71 It’s a Bet
Part 1 of 5
Great! I found a group of teens who play poker. There are not a lot of them around. God, I’m good! I’m not rich, but I love to play poker and win big. I almost always do. It’s not just the winning part. It’s the way I win; I take the teen saps for all they got. I’ll do anything to win. And that makes it so sweet. I let them think I am only an average 20-year-old who’s not that smart. I even lose some hands-on purpose to show a glimpse of my “not-too-bright” side. Then, as the game starts to wind down to a close, I try to get them to up the bet, little by little, pile up the pot. Then my stupidity vanishes, and my “luck” is turned on. I take them for all they have! Even my friends!
And when I say I take them for all they are worth, I mean just that. As the game goes on, and I allow myself to win more and more pots, I take their money and then any jewelry items they chose to bet, and then … I TAKE THEIR CLOTHES. Yes, the way I ham it up and feel I will lose the current pot, they buy it and go all out. Or should I say, go all off? I recall an enjoyable game a few weeks ago. That’s me in the green and red plaid shirt. Well, you can see how much fun I had. Before you think my cruelty is unlimited, let me say I did return their clothes. But I kept their money, watches, and other interesting personal items I won. Sometimes I cheat with a sleight-of-hand card switch when I deal.
Today, I’ll make that happen again. I grabbed my gym bag and put my MP3 player, a book, a deck of cards, a bottle of water, and some cookies in it. Then, just in case I have a real game for money, I grabbed most of the cash I had on hand and jammed it into my pockets. I pulled out the expensive pair of sunglasses I bought from my last winnings, then headed to the bus stop. The bus arrived a few minutes later, and I climbed on, paid the fare, and took a seat near the back for the long ride. Most of the traffic was going in the other direction, so only a half dozen passengers were on the bus at this time of day. I put on my earphones and turned on my MP3 player. Then, I pulled out the deck of cards and started playing poker with myself. After about ten minutes, the bus stopped a few times, and a few people got on, including a very nicely dressed man who looked older than dirt. As he approached my seat, he smiled at me. It was almost as if he knew me, so to be polite, I smiled back, which caused him to smile even wider. He stared longer than usual, and then I saw his mouth moving. I knew he said something, but with my headset on, I didn’t hear him. I ignored this old geezer.
I knew he said something, but with my headset on, I didn’t hear him. I ignored this old geezer.
As he stood there again, his mouth moved. I was annoyed and removed my headphones to hear him. "I'm sorry; you’re talking to me?"
"I said, it seems you were in a hurry when you left the house." He smiled broadly again, and I noticed his gaze going to my crotch, then back up to my eyes. I had no idea what he meant, so I shrugged my shoulders to show I didn't understand. He smiled again and said, "Your barn door is open." He laughed after he said that, and I wondered if he might have Alzheimer’s or some other old man disease. I just smiled and shrugged my shoulders again. He looked slightly surprised and said, "Kid, you're flying wide open."
I saw his eyes go to my crotch again, and suddenly it hit me. He was trying to tell me my zipper was down. I felt my face turn red and was about to reach down and zip up. But then, I thought, I don’t want to come across as stupid or careless. So instead, I gave him a smart-ass response, "Yep, just airing it out a bit. That should not concern you. Should it?” I love to show that cocky side of me, even to a 70-year-old coot like this.
As the bus continued to move on, he was still standing, holding onto a pole as he caught himself mesmerized by the sight of my red undies. He blushed, and I knew he wanted to see more. We were far enough towards the back of the bus where no other passengers were, so I smiled back and spread my legs, which pulled my zipper even farther open. I wonder how he’d feel if he knew I was wearing my tiny bikini brief underwear. Oh yeah! He loved looking at my red, slightly-stretched bulge, but that’s as much as this old geezer would see. I’ll bet he was getting a hard-on under those old-man baggy suit pants he was wearing. He had been standing in the aisle this whole time, and I knew the driver would soon tell him to take a seat. Since it was obvious he wanted to worship and adore me, why not? He can love this sexy teen all he wants. Let him look me up and down, feasting his eyes. I was about to ask him to sit across from me when he pointed to the seat right beside me and asked, "Mind if I take a seat?"
I was facing forward beside the window; I patted the other bench seat I was on and said, "Sure, no problem." So we shared two sides of the same seat, and we were both facing forward. I planned to befriend him, get him all hot and bothered and frustrated as he looked at my crotch but get none of it. Then I’d laugh him off the bus when we arrived at his stop. It was like flexing my better-than-you muscle. I love to embarrass and humiliate people – any people.
He quickly sat and told me his name was Harry. I shook his hand and introduced myself. While he asked me where I was going, his eyes never left my crotch. I told him I was going to a poker tournament. When I snuck a glimpse, I saw a bulge forming in the front of Harry’s pants. I also noticed he had a gold watch chain hanging out of his vest pocket. He was, indeed, nicely dressed. He looked like he had money. BINGO! Maybe I could take all he had. I briefly looked at his face and saw he was interested in me, at least in a physical way. That would make him more receptive to my technique. "Do you play poker?"
I caught him off guard. Harry cleared his throat and said, "I used to, but haven't for quite sometime now." I could tell that he loved sitting next to me. For a 20-year-old, I knew I was looking hot and sexy with my stylish, wind-blown hair and thin but muscle-tone frame. I could also tell he liked how I looked. I heard him take a loud breath of air, and then he cleared his throat again and said, "How long have you been playing?"
"Not long. I’m just learning.” I lied to Harry. Hell, I’d lie to anyone to win their loot. “But I think I’m catching on really, really well. I do enjoy it. I make a few mistakes, but winning a huge pot of money is really fun. It … it … gives me a natural high. I’m on my way to a private game now. It’s pretty far; I have about 80 more minutes to kill. If you would like, we could play until your stop comes."
He hesitated but then agreed. We played a few hands of seven-card stud, just for fun, with me letting him win. Then I suggested, "You ever play for money?" He hesitated but then agreed, so we started playing for real. It only took me about seven hands to win all his cash, and he looked at me, smiled a little, and said, "I think I just got hustled." I think he was joking; I don’t think he was really upset with me.
I won only about $30. I put on my innocent face and said, "I think I just got lucky, Sir." I threw in the “Sir” to keep showing respect. I noticed the whole time we had been playing. His eyes kept darting to my open zipper. I pretended to adjust my position to get comfortable, but I did it to spread my legs wider apart, “accidentally” opening the zipper further. His face reddened with embarrassment as I did this while pretending not to notice.
Then he cleared his throat and asked, "Any problem with upping the stakes in the next game, giving me a chance to win some of it back?"
"Are you sure?” I asked, knowing he already told me I won all his cash. “You have anything left to bet with … Sir?"
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold watch on the end of that chain I noticed earlier. I could tell it was very old and worth a lot more money than I had just won from him. As he held it by the chain, I stared at it, admiring its beauty, and actually found myself excited at the thought of owning it. I mean, he was old. What did he need with that anyway? He then said, "I have this, but it's worth a lot more than the money you won off of me."
I had to have it, not just to own it but to humiliate this man. So I pulled all the cash out of my pocket I had just won, as well as the money I had in my wallet, and showed him. But when he told me the value of his watch, it was still a lot more than all I had. So I pulled off the watch my Dad gave me for my last birthday. He looked at it for a long time, longer than normal, and told me, "Nice watch, but mine is still worth a lot more than all of this."
I finally offered my MP3 player, sunglasses, and even my return bus ticket, pretty much everything I had, and he finally agreed. The biggest hand of my life was dealt, and I was amazed that I got two aces as my hold cards, “pocket rockets,” as they say. It’s the best-starting hand you can get. My confidence made me want to taunt him, but I kept my poker face, wishing I had more money to bet. The second, third, and fourth cards were face up and were another Ace, the Six of Clubs and the Six of Spades, giving me a full house and making me seriously wish I had more money to bet. I almost laughed when he said, "Too bad, wish we could raise the stakes again."
I checked his face and was sure he was trying to bluff me. I had become very good at spotting the signs, then I told him, "Me, too, but everything I have is in the pot, Sir." My saying “Sir” was important to build up his ego and make me more like a boyish, 20-year-old victim.
"Too bad, boy, too bad. You sure you don't have anything else? I would love to teach you a lesson." He giggled in an overly-confident manner. Fuck! I wanted to raise him. His eyes kept checking out the view of my red underwear, which I used to taunt him. “Absentmindedly,” I let my right hand gently run over my crotch and said, "As I said, Sir, everything I have is in the pot." I watched as his hand dipped into another pocket and pulled out a gold cigarette lighter, not as old as the watch, but still, it looked valuable. I was almost panting. I wanted it badly.
He then looked at me and asked, "Your sweatshirt and those jeans look expensive. What did you pay for them?" My first thought was to tell him to go screw himself, but the way he was twirling the lighter in his fingers, flaunting it in my face, made me want it even more. So I told him that they were designer clothes and that they were expensive, and how much they cost me.
"Not enough, boy. Add in your shoes and socks and your t-shirt, and you have a deal," he said, talking smugly.
"What? No way! I'd be sitting here in just my underwear." A half-dozen people were still on the bus in the middle and front areas. He twirled the lighter again, the light coming in through the bus window glinting off of it. Then he started to put it back in his pocket. I had to have it, so I pleaded, "OK, but can it be that I only give you my clothes if I lose?"
He laughed loudly, looked at me, and said, "Boy, you've been playing long enough to know that's not how it works. All bets must be on the table." Again, he was acting all high and mighty. I absolutely knew I would win this hand. And I really wanted to punish this arrogant asshole for thinking he was getting the better of me. But I kept my cool with my pretend look of respect.
As he put the lighter away, I said, "Wait, let me see that again." He smiled and held it open in the palm of his hand. As I picked it up, my fingertips briefly touched the palm of his hand. It was like electricity was shooting through my entire body for a split second. Not in a painful way, quite the opposite. The sensation was so pleasing I felt my cock starting to stiffen in my underwear. Of course, my fly was still open, displaying my red bikini underwear. I assumed I was sporting a bulge, but I could not look down to check. And no way could I zip up now, not after telling him I had it down on purpose. I also felt my face redden when I saw him staring at me. Though I had no idea why it felt like he knew my cock was hardening, winning this bastard’s gold would be fucking erotic! I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. I rechecked the lighter and was pleased when I found the gold stamp indicating it was genuine.
"Well, boy, you can see it's real. So is it a bet or not?" He took it back. I hesitated briefly, and he started to put it back in his pocket, making me yell, "OK, OK, it's a bet." Oh shit, a few elderly women five or six rows in front of us turned around and looked to see what caused the brief commotion. Seeing nothing interesting, they turned back forward. I reminded myself to remain calm and to keep my voice lowered. I did not notice Harry’s look of complete pleasure at my loud, overly-zealous reaction.
Smiling, he dropped the lighter in the pile of money. I looked around, seeing again no passengers were looking our way, then very slowly pulled my hoodie up and off and dropped it on the pile. Harry watched every move I made, even as I bent down to undo and then pulled off my shoes and socks, adding them to the growing pile. It felt very odd to be barefoot on a bus. As I grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt, I looked at him with pleading eyes to stop me, but he just met my gaze as if challenging me. So I pulled it up and off and added it to the pile of clothes, money, watches, and the lighter.
His eyes scanned my naked torso as he said, "Nice, Boy; you must work out. Oh, and a nice gold necklace you have on, too.” I had forgotten about that, but the bet was made. Seeing how much he enjoyed this, I wondered if I could make him forget about my pants. So I gently ran my hand across my chest and nipples and immediately regretted it because I saw the bulge growing in my pants. My nipples had always been overly sensitive. My touching them to distract him only made my cock throb a bit more. He kept staring at me, waiting, and I knew he would not be fooled, so I undid the button and zipper, awkwardly pulled my jeans down and then off, and added them to the pile. I was now just wearing a very tight pair of red bikini brief underwear, and my cock was fully hard. Why? It must be the idea that I was nearly naked on a public bus and hoping, praying, the other passengers never looked back at me.
“Nice little bikini, boy. They look good on you.” He grinned. The fifth card was up, and it was the Ten of Hearts, which did nothing for me, and from what I could tell, likely did not help him either. I was absolutely confident in the power of my hand. I also had two aces in the hole, another ace up and a pair of sixes up. That gave me a full house, three aces over two sixes. I was fucking drooling. But then Harry asked, "Raise the stakes again, Boy?"
I was getting tired of him calling me “boy,” but I watched as he pulled a ring I had not noticed from his finger. It was also gold. He actually had a gold ring on each hand. I guess this old codger loved gold and loved to show it off. I could tell it was real and had to have that, too. He looked longingly at my briefs, "My ring against your necklace, boy, up to you." I hesitated. I knew my necklace was not worth much, so I had little to lose against his more expensive ring. I undid my necklace and added it to the pile as he added his ring. The sixth card was the last up card, and it was the Ten of Spades, which gave me an even better full house, Aces over tens. After working through the odds once again, I was confident I had him beat. No doubt now!
I then watched as he pulled a very old expensive cigarette case from another pocket. I was sure he would not bet it against my underwear. That would be stupid of him and me. I can’t be naked on a public bus, and he knew that. But … when he said, "This case against your underwear, boy." My mouth hung open. What the fuck?!
I did not want to be naked in front of this old man and was about to say, “No.” But then I thought I was already almost naked, and all I had to do was pull them off, show him my cards, and then laugh while I pulled my clothes back on and pocketed all his money… AND ALL HIS GOLD! I took a deep breath and said, "You're on."
He added the diamond ring to the pot. I paused awkwardly, then pulled my briefs down and off and threw them on the pile while covering my cock and balls with my hands. Harry was gawking at me, and I could see how excited he was getting, and for some reason, that was making me excited. I felt my cock pulsing under my hands.
I took a deep breath in all my nakedness and on a public bus, no less! I faked a look of calm, though inside, I was anything but relaxed. I did not want him to know my heart was racing in my anxiety. I half smiled, placed my hands behind my head, and stretched my chest. I was like an innocent little lion, ready to pounce on my old withering victim. Then he dealt the final, seventh card to each of us, face down. Mine was the Nine of Hearts. No help to me, but I was ecstatic with my ace-high full house. Now all the cards were dealt. We could only make one last bet on the hands we had or just call. I had nothing to bet. I was fucking naked! So I called. But he shook his head, indicating he did not want to end it there.
He set his card face down on the table and used his right hand to pull a ring off his left little pinky and flashed it at me. This ring had a sizable diamond in it. It looked like it was worth much more than the first stoneless ring he had already placed in the pot. Oh god! Did I want that last piece of jewelry? I wanted to strip him clean of every piece of jewelry he had. But I had nothing to bet. Harry smiled wider and asked, "Up for a final bet, boy?"
"As you can see, I have nothing left, Sir."
He looked me up and down, then said, "Oh, but you have that gorgeous body, boy, and I still have a good 30-minute bus-ride left. You do what I say for those 30 minutes, anything I say, and I put up this precious ring. It’s up to you, boy. You can refuse this ring, and I will just call, or you can put up 30 minutes of me enjoying your body as your bet. Who knows, you could win this ring too.”
“But I am naked… on a public bus… and passengers are within 5 rows of us. You can’t have me do stuff. I’ll get arrested. The driver can radio the police.” During our long ride, I watched some passengers getting on and some getting off at various times. Gladly, no one was coming to the back of the bus where we were or even glanced this way. Most just took the first seats they saw up front, and a few sat awkwardly closer. Likely, there would all get off before us anyway. My plan was to throw my clothes on quickly as soon as I won this game, and no one would be the wiser, not even the bus driver. Yet, I had to ask. “What will you do to me?” I knew I would win, but still, I was a bit nervous about my predicament.
“Boy, as they say, put up or shut up. What will it be, boy?” and he stared piercingly into my eyes, trying to read them.
The way he looked at me like I was the sexiest thing on the earth, made me anxious and excited at the same time, but other than a few hand jobs, I was a virgin. Harry must have sensed my uneasiness because he repeated in a calmer tone, "Well, boy, what's it gonna be?"
"I'm not sure; I'm thinking."
He smiled and said, "Don't worry. I promise I won't hurt or make you do anything unsafe."
I rechecked my cards. I knew I had him beat. This would be a great haul. I searched his face for a bluff, then took a deep breath and said, "Deal, you're on. Let’s show our cards."
I had my winning hand already, a full house, Aces over Tens! Now I’d get all my clothes back, my return bus ticket home, and all his gold jewelry. Fucking shit, what a god damn haul!
I had to move one of my hands, covering my dick and balls to turn my cards over. His eyes stared at me as I laughed, flipped over my two Aces, and said, "Full house, Aces and Tens." I started to grab for my underwear with great relief that this was over.
But he caught my hand to stop me, then smiled and calmly said, "Not so fast, boy, those undies belong to me now." I then watched, dumbfounded, as he turned over his cards, two tens to match the two tens that were face up, giving him four of a kind. That beat my full house. I stared at them, my heart pounding, realizing I had lost everything, including my clothes, even my return ticket home! I even lost the final bet of letting him fondle my naked body for 30 minutes. Harry wasted no time in beginning his 30 minutes. "You have been in charge so far,” he chuckled, “and that is going to change as of right now."
He had not raised his voice, but it had taken on a stern, authoritative quality that caused me almost to jump a bit in my seat. "Stand up!” I was afraid the bus driver would see us in his mirror, but hopefully, it was darker in the back of the bus, and he would be concentrating on his driving, not checking out passengers. I saw Harry looking me up and down, and then he added, "You are lovely. This is going to be fun... for me." After I nervously stood up, he scooted closer to the window, centered on our bench seat. I was squeezed between him and the window side of the bus.
Without saying a word, he gently guided me down with his hands on his lap, his belly side up, and my ass on his thigh. He had the back of my head resting on the aisle end of the seat cushion, my ass was on his thighs, and my knees were sharply bent upward so that my feet were flat on the seat, my toes touching the side of the bus. My heels were against his thighs. I was short enough to fit comfortably like this. My arms were hanging over my head and into the aisle, so he told me to tuck the palm of my hands under my head. As you can imagine, I was lying long-ways on the seat; my head was on the aisle edge, and my feet were flat against the window edge of the seat, but my ass was elevated to rest on his thighs, which obscenely thrust my hips upward displaying my now flaccid dick, flaccid do to my nervous state fear. With my hands under my head, one elbow jutted up against the seat back, and the other jutted out to the foot side, exposing my armpits.
Harry reached over and carefully ran a finger up to one armpit. I immediately brought my elbows down and pressed them against my sides to stop him from tickling or even touching my armpits. In the calmest voice, Harry told me flatly, “If you move one more time, I’m going to push you onto the floor, pick up all my things and all the things that were yours, and abandon you here and now, totally naked.
It’s a Bet
Part 2 of 5
If you are going to welch on a bet, I have no use for you.” Then he just stared, waiting for my response. I was so fucking frightened. I was trembling. Harry had everything I owned. He was totally in charge of me. I spread my elbows and expanded my chest to fully expose my armpit to him. He was right; I did owe him 30 minutes. He was so fucking right!
Harry then resumed. He ran a fingertip in the hollow of my lightly-hairy pit, making circles. I was not afraid he would tickle me; I was afraid he would give me a hard-on. My 20-year-old body is overly sensitive. Then he slowly ran all his fingertips down my side causing my cock to move and expand. I let out a low moan. He ran his fingertips over my nipples and even pinched them gently, then down my front over my abs, but stopped before he reached my cock. "Yes, a very nice, tight body, indeed.” He then started using the fingertips of both hands to tickle-tease my body everywhere, everywhere except my cock. My cock responded by standing straight up, fully erect, and twitching just a little. I moaned with pleasure. My eyes were closed. It felt so fucking good. I forgot all about being naked on a public bus, driving down major streets with other passengers on board.
My moment of bliss ended abruptly when I heard him say, “Boy, stand up.” I hesitated as I came back to reality. “Go ahead, stand up now and face me!” I slowly slid off his lap and nervously planted my feet on the floor. I stood there naked, turned to face him, trying to hold my balance as the bus hit a few potholes, casing my jutting-out cock to bob in all directions. His knees were spread out, and I stood between them.
This bus had high seat backs, so no more than my head and the top of my shoulders could be seen from the front of the bus. I did feel somewhat shielded from view. I assumed I would get my clothes back now. Thank goodness.
Again, Harry’s voice grabbed my attention. “Hand me that bag you brought with you. It has slipped under the seat.” I looked down, grabbed the gym bag, FORMALLY MY gym bag, and handed it to him. He opened it, gathered all my clothes, money, MP3 player, and other bets, stuffed them inside, zipped it closed, and put it on the seat next to him. We were facing each other directly, me standing with my back to the driver.
"Yes, an excellent, tight body, indeed, boy, and nicely tanned too." His hands once again worked over my chest, then down to my abs, and then back up again, where he rubbed and pinched my nipples. “Not just a nice tight body, a nice tight naked body, on a metro bus. A nice tight, naked, all-boned-up body on a public bus. That’s so nice of you, boy, to be so publicly displayed and on show for me.”
The way he said it so bluntly freaked me out. “Fuck! I am so fucking naked! Me, riding naked downtown, standing up on a public bus!” I screamed in my mind as I looked down, watching my cock, and felt my balls waving and bouncing around as we traversed this section of rough pavement.
“I think I am enjoying my 30 minutes of touching you more than any other of our bets I won.” The next time he lightly touched me. His hands traveled a bit lower and went to each of my ticklish hipbones. My whole body jerked. Then back up to my tits, he went. Then he tickled me down over my abs again, and this time his hands almost made contact with my cock. I moaned as his hands worked their way up to my nipples again. He pinched them harder, then he slowly fingered his way down to just barely brushing across the head of my cock, where a string of my precum was inadvertently wiped off. His fingers gently traced down my shaft, across my balls, and up my shaft. As hard as I tried, I could not help moaning.
"Yes, very nice, boy and you are all boned up. I wonder if that is from just me touching you, or from being naked so publicly, or maybe it is from all the humiliation you are experiencing. At any rate, it is not something you can control. Can you?” It wasn’t a question. If it was, I had no answer to give him. The way he spoke to me was humiliating, but at the same time, it made me hornier than ever before. Even though I knew all I had to do was scream to get the bus driver’s attention, I didn't.
His hand grasped my shaft, stroking it slowly as he said, "Yes, my little boy needs a man to show him how to behave, what his worth is, and how he can be of value to a real man." I was amazed that I was about to say, “Yes,” but he stopped me and said, "Don't speak, boy. I can see your needs all over your face. Now, turn around and face the front of the bus, but stay directly in front of me, between my knees."
I was extremely nervous at his request. I was totally naked and with a stiff boner. But I could not renege on a bet. He won 30 minutes to do as he pleased if he won, and he won. I did as he asked. Since I am only 5'8" tall, only my head and shoulders would be visible over the high seat backs in front of me. I heard him take a deep breath, and then I felt his fingers run over my butt as he admired my ass. "Yes, my boy has a very nice butt, very tight and firm.” I felt the palms of his hand caress my ass cheeks tenderly, ever so lightly. “If I had time, I would spank this butt to a deep red. Not because I am angry with you, but because you need it."
I felt my face turning a warm, deep red, but at the same time, I felt my cock throbbing even harder as I felt his fingers tracing around the mounds of my butt. No one has a gorgeous bubble butt like me. I moaned as one finger lightly traced right down my ass crack, tickling the tiny bit of hair I had there. He then grabbed each of my mounds in a hand, squeezed, and said, "The firmest, most beautiful butt I have ever seen boy, and there is nothing I like more than a teen boy’s butt. It is all presented here, in front of me, stripped bare, and under my command, even here, in public! I now own this ass.” I shivered at his authoritative words. My cock was dribbling precum down the back of the seat in front of me. I could not help it.
“Oh, how this ass deserves a spanking. And I don’t mind grabbing you and pulling you to the front of this bus, pulling you over my knees, all bare-assed naked, and spanking it long and hard, right in front of everyone. Yes, boy, you were trying to tease me when you first saw me come on board. You were trying to hustle me out of my money and my gold items. Yes, boy, this ass deserves a long, hard spanking, indeed." As soon as he mentioned spanking again, the way he was saying it, as his hands worked over my butt cheeks, my mind went back to how I had taken advantage of others in poker games, and although I didn't know why the thought of this man spanking me almost made me shoot my load right there. I know I needed punishment, harsh punishment, humiliating punishment. I felt his finger run up and down the crack of my butt, and then he said, "OK, turn and face me again, boy."
I did what he said right away and so quickly that my erection swayed back and forth, dropping strings of my leaky precum on the bus floor as well as across his pants. He looked up at me and, in his firm voice, said, "You really are a very naughty boy."
His words were driving me wild; as my cock throbbed, I thought it was going to burst open. I watched as his hands reached down and then ran lightly up and down the inside of each of my thighs, over and over again. Then he reached out and carefully cupped my balls, causing me to moan even louder. I also noticed the bulge in his pants protruding as he massaged my balls. "Beautiful, smooth, taut, teenage body. I could not have done better myself. You really are exquisite, boy. No one could ever appreciate you as much as I do. And you could not have met a better-suited master."
His compliments again made me feel both excited and humiliated, and there was something familiar about him using the word “exquisite.” Still, the thought left me as he gently grasped my erection. He didn't move his hand at all. He just very lightly, gently embraced it, causing my erection to throb harder than ever before in my life. "A beautifully formed, very hard erection. You truly are exquisite, boy. All these people on this bus need to see and appreciate you in your total nakedness, right here and now."
His other hand gently took hold of my balls, then slowly moved the hand holding my cock to guide my hard dick to directly point to his face. I watched as he licked his index finger, then slowly ran it all over the very sensitive head from my piss slit to the flared edge of the mushroom’s edge, then ran it around in circles. I forgot about being naked on a bus with passengers until he reminded me, “My naked boy, on a bus, standing up in front of me, with a stiff dick screaming to climax, screaming for permission to climax, even if I require it to be so publicly.” I felt so humiliated, and as my knees got weak, I knew I was about to cum. But he sensed this and pulled his hand away from my cock and balls and said, "Now, now, boy, don't you go ejaculating without permission. You'd make me very angry that you are trying to be in charge. You lost that bet, boy, at least for 30 minutes. You have nothing to say or do or even think."
I stood in front of him, my cock bouncing up and down, and I saw from the expression on his face that he was really enjoying my agonizing public humiliation.
After a couple minutes of silence where I was holding myself on my tip toes on the verge of climax, then he gave me a moment to get down from my erotic high. But not for long, because he grasped my dick, and this time he slowly stroked it, making sure to do it very slowly, and rubbing it fully all the way to my groin and then all the way to the tip. Then back to my groin. This time he used the other hand to lightly tickle my balls with his fingernails. He brought me to the edge and nearly over the edge a few times. Each time I was about to climax, my hips would thrust forward and backward in increasingly longer movements. He knew that sign. Then he smiled at me and said, "I'm sorry, boy, I've forgotten all about your mouth, and it's a beautiful one at that."
I watched as he unzipped his pants, and suddenly, I knew what he wanted. Being as horny as I was, I was ready for almost anything, even from a 70-year-old man. Not only did I want to suck him, deep down I knew I needed to. I started to bend down, but he stopped me with his hand and said, "Naughty, naughty boy, you are not in charge here. You think you can try to con me at poker and then do as you wish? You do need a good, long spanking, but there is no time for that. Get down on your knees between my legs and show me how well you can use that beautiful mouth."
The way he stopped me and made me wait until he told me what to do, aroused me so much I felt a tingling sensation go through my entire body as I awkwardly knelt down. I had to shove my feet under the seat behind me, but finally, after some maneuvering, my head was level with his crotch. He smiled at me and said, "Good, now open my pants and get to work. Boy, my stop is coming up in a few minutes."
I undid the button on his suit pants, pulled them open, and saw he wasn't wearing underwear. I traced over his erection through his pants and, for the first time, noticed how big it was. When I finally got it free from his pants, I was shocked at how big and beautiful an elderly man’s dick could be. He laughed and said, "Yes, it's a big one, boy. Now get to work." I grasped the base in my hand, lowered my head, stuck out my tongue, and gently ran it over the huge, swollen purple head. I heard him moan lowly as my tongue ran circles around the head, and deep down, I wished he would cum, because I didn't think I could get even the head, let alone the shaft, into my mouth. After a minute, he said, "OK, boy, time to stop playing around and really open wide."
His firm voice drove me on, and I opened my mouth as wide as I could and slowly started taking the head into my mouth. I got about half of it in, but it swelled larger, so I had to pull back, making him say, "No more fooling around, boy, you are making me very angry." I wet my lips, opened them wide, and slowly took the flared head into my mouth again. Again, I only got about half of it in and thought I would have to pull back again, but this time, he thrust his hips up, which shoved a couple more inches of the shaft into me. I started to gag. It was huge, but he quickly said, "Relax, boy, relax."
I did as he said, and the gag reflex left, but his cock was so big I thought my mouth would break open as I tried to take more into me. I heard him say, "Relax your jaw muscles, boy." He pulled out a little and allowed me to breathe before pushing it back into me. “Relax.”
I did what he said and found it a bit more comfortable as I slowly started getting more of his shaft into me, but I could see I would have trouble going any further. He was just too big, as well as too thick. He sensed what I was thinking because he said, "You can do it, boy. You will be a pro cocksucker after this." Me? A pro cocksucker? I am not even gay! But his words were both humiliating as well as exciting to me, and I deeply wanted to take all of him into me. However, I was unsure of how to do it. I heard him sigh; then he said, "OK, guess I'm going to have to help you, boy."
He then reached out, grabbed the back of my head, and pushed down while at the same time, he thrust his hips up, forcing his entire cock through my mouth and lodging it to plug the opening of my throat. I started to gag again and tried to pull back, but he held my head down firmly and said, "Relax, boy, and take my dick all the way, and don't stop until I tell you to."
I did what he said, and he let me take a couple of breaths. I was amazed at how large his cock was and how good it felt at the back of my throat. I raised my hands and tried to play with his balls, but he quickly said, "Boy, put your hands behind your back and don't move them until I tell you." I obeyed. I had to do it; I needed to do it, and once they were behind me, he moved forward and my body backward, which trapped my hands behind me between my back and the back of the seat. He then said, "OK, boy, now I will let you take a breath, then you become a pro; time for a good face fucking."
He then used his hands on the back of my head to pull my mouth up and down, thrusting his hips up, forcing his cock up and down my throat. I concentrated on breathing when I could and relaxing my mouth as he picked up speed, driving his cock up against my throat hole. A minute later, I felt it swell even larger, then felt his first shot of cum shoot deep down my throat. I was surprised that at his age, he shot spurt after spurt of his cum deep down my throat as he continued driving his cock in and out of me. Finally, he slowed, then stopped, and said, “Good, boy, you sucked me, which makes you a pro. You can now probably suck anybody.”
For some reason, I felt pride race through my body as I looked at him, then he said, “And I have the feeling you are going to get a lot of opportunities.” I wanted to tell him I was straight and would never do this again with anyone. But it’s not the thing that would matter to him. “Now, stand up again and face me, boy.” I did, and my erection stood almost straight up and out. When he saw my erection, he added, “Yes, not only a lot of opportunities, but it looks like humiliation is going to become a part of you.” Should I tell him that I am straight? He grasped my shaft and said, “Guess we should tie up this edged-up hair-tiger dick of yours.” And he proceeded to do exactly that while I was totally naked on a public bus.
I thought to myself, finally, I get to cum. Hopefully, he’ll give me back my clothes with some of my money and my return bus ticket. After all, I kept my part of the bet. I did as he wanted. Now, at last, it’s my turn to shoot my load and get dressed.
He lightly stroked my dick all the way back, then all the way to the tip, slowly and torturously. I could feel my balls churning a huge pent-up load to eject. He brought me to the edge of cumming three times. I was so horny, my knees shook a bit, and I needed to cum so badly that he probably thought I would have done anything for him. He paused; then he started stroking me again. Just when I was about to cum, we both heard the driver announce the next stop was two minutes away. He stopped stroking, smiled at me, and said, “Guess we better hurry, boy; that's my stop.”
He brought me to the edge of cumming two more times until I was at the point where I thought I would go crazy. Then he said, “Hands behind your back, boy.” I gladly did, hurrying to obey to reach my climax quickly before his stop. As my hips were doing their best to thrust back and forth to plead for a desperately needed climax, I watched him open my gym bag, reach in, and pull a shoelace from one of my shoes. He pulled me way forward without a word, bending me over his lap until my face was on the beach seat at his hip. Before I could move, he quickly and securely bound my wrists behind my back with my own lace, and then he pulled me to a standing position again. I looked at him with shock and confusion, my erection bouncing up and down so hard I thought it would fall off. He smiled widely at me and said, "Looks like you are in a predicament, boy, naked, erect, hands bound behind you and on a public bus. I want to tell you it's been a pleasure meeting you. And, now, this is my stop. I really must go." I started to open my mouth to angrily protest, but he stopped me.
“You're wondering why this is happening, right? You could have been nice when I got on the bus. I tried to tell you your fly was open, and instead of appreciating it, you tried to tease me, and then you tried to hustle me at cards. As you can see, you will be the only passenger left on the bus. Everyone else got off already, so it will be just the driver and you. Now, you have a choice here. You can promise me that you will never try to do anything like that again to anyone, and I'll leave you my number. I will give you another chance to win your stuff back. Or … if you don't promise, I will leave."
My mind raced, but I had no choice, so I nodded, indicating I agreed. He smiled, then looked at my erection and, brought me to the edge one last time, then let go. As he stood up, he smiled and told me, "Again, great to meet you and your mouth. Remember your promise. Have fun getting your hands unbound and getting home." He then turned, and I watched him walk to the front of the bus, say something to the driver, and then get off.
I quickly sat down and started thinking about my situation. I was naked, very hard, my hands tied behind my back on a city bus, alone with just the driver. I started struggling against the shoelace that bound my wrists but quickly gave up, as the more I struggled, the tighter it got. I thought about how this day had started out so well, and even though it had not ended with Harry as I would have liked, I knew deep down that I had loved my public and erotic meeting with him. His dominant nature and how he talked to me had brought me to new heights of arousal. I leaned over a bit in my seat and looked at the driver for the first time. I was far back on the bus, but from what I could see, he was a tall, middle-aged black man. He wore the uniform and hat of a city bus driver, and my only hope was that since he drove the bus, he would be eager to help me. However, I had no idea how I would explain being naked with my hands bound behind me and that all my clothes were off the bus and gone with Harry.
It’s a Bet
Part 3 of 5
Suddenly an idea came to my mind that seemed good, so I took a deep breath and stood up, and started walking to the front of the bus, my very hard cock leading the way. When I was halfway to where the driver was sitting, I saw him turn his head briefly and look at me, then heard him roar, "Hey, Kid, take a seat while the bus is in motion." I stopped walking and was about to sit when I saw him look in the mirror at me, then turned his head, taking a longer look. I then watched as he rubbed his eyes, shook his head, turned around, and took a longer look at me. This time with his eyes very wide open. "Kid, are you… What happened? Who?"
I almost laughed at how confused he was. The bus continued to slow, and then the driver actually pulled it over to the side of the road and stopped. Then the driver got up and walked over to me. I saw he was a black man, maybe in his 40s, and also very well-built. He looked like he must have spent a couple of hours at the gym lifting weights every day and had been doing it for quite some time. The next thing I noticed was how he had the whitest teeth when he opened his mouth and how handsome he was. He stopped when he was one row away from me, where he could easily see me in all my nakedness. "Are you OK, Kid?"
"Ummmmmm… I… I… um… ah… a… a…"
He laughed an easy laugh, and then I noticed his gaze lowered and then quickly rose. I knew he explored my naked body from where he was. But he could not see my erection. His skin was too dark to tell if he had blushed, but his expression changed. It seemed like he wanted to look down again but was holding himself back. He then said, "Are you OK, Kid? Can I help? I'm not supposed to stop the bus. I could get fired for this."
His concern was so real that I almost didn't use my excuse, but then I thought it was the best option, so I said, "I'm sorry, Sir. I appreciate you stopping for me. My friends pranked me, took my clothes, tied my hands behind my back, and then got off at the last stop. Please help me, Sir."
Fuck! I needed to cum! I was so horned up all I could think of was how sexy this b8s driver was., I started fantasizing about his big dick, indicated by the large bulge in his pants.
A big dick that I needed to suck. I pictured him naked, displaying his dick, and ordering me to suck it, but I needed no encouragement. I did. It was wonderful.
He looked at me with concern, then paused, and the smile left his face as he explained, “Nobody got off at the last stop except an old man who happens to be a very good friend of mine, Harry."
My fantasy faded away. I swallowed hard. I had not planned on him paying such close attention to his passengers. But I had started this excuse and figured I should stay with it, so I said, "Sorry, Sir, maybe it was two stops ago a couple of older teens pulled a huge prank on me. We played a little poker, and they tricked me and made me bet my clothes."
This time I noticed when his gaze lowered, he smiled and asked, “So, they got your clothes in a poker game, tied your hands, and got off two stops ago”? I figured he had bought my story, so I stuck to it, "Yes, Sir. That is exactly what happened. Can you help me, please?" His smile left his face right away.
His voice raised slightly, "Kid, two stops ago, nobody got off at all. I stopped the bus as required; I could get fired for this. Why would you lie to me?" I told him that what I just said was the truth. "Kid, you just lied to me again. You must be one of those high and mighty white boys who think I am stupid just because I am a black man. Just tell me, Kid."
“Oh, fuckin shit! Why are you so fuckin’ unbelievably stupid.” I just lost it. I have nothing. I lost all my possessions, my money, everything, and now I just lost my temper. “Who the fuck do you think you are keeping me prisoner on your fucking bus?”
"Boy, you better watch your mouth. Look around. Look at your situation. It's just you and me here, and you're naked with your hands bound. I’m not holding you prisoner. I didn’t do anything to you. I’ll open the door and let you out exactly as you are, naked and bound."
He was right, of course, but I was determined to get out of this, so I told him, "I’m sorry. I am so sorry I cursed at you.” Then I put on a most desperate boyish pouty sad look and pleaded. “Let’s just forget the whole thing. Mister, could you at least untie me? Please?"
"Too late for that, Kid. If you had told me the truth, you'd be on your way right now. So, since you're a betting boy, I'll give you a chance."
He pulled a coin from his pocket and explained, "One flip of the coin. Heads, I untie you and let you go on your way. Or, tails, I spank that ass of yours until you learn a lesson. Agree?" I really had no choice, so I nodded in agreement.
I watched as the coin flung into the air, fell, and bounced on the floor several times. Finally, it laid still with tails showing. The driver looked at me, "Time for that butt of yours to learn a lesson, Boy." Then I asked if we could do double or nothing.
"Kid, you got nothing left to bet that I would want, and I gotta get this bus moving soon, so, time to learn a lesson." This was not going how I wanted, and I felt my face go beet red as the driver took two steps forward. His eyes were taking in my fully-naked body and my very hard cock. With my hands bound behind me, there was no way I could cover up my dick or even think about making a break for it. He just stared at my boner. My humiliation was almost complete, as I realized that through all the talking, this situation was turning me on. No matter how much I tried, I could not make my cock soften.
"Well, you naughty boy, time for your spanking." When I heard him say “naughty” and “boy” and “spanking,” something deep inside of me wanted to hear him talk to me like that some more.
"C'mon, I'm too old to get spanked." I challenged him, wanting him not to back off.
"Boys are never too old to get spanked, especially naughty boys who lie and disrespect their elders.
I watched as he moved into the bench seat I was on and sat beside me. His thigh was touching my naked thigh. It sent shivers up my spine. Then he reached over, grabbed my shoulder, and easily pulled me to a standing position. "From how you have been acting, you've needed this for a long time."
He surprised me when he took off his suit coat. It’s like he did not want to mess it up. A second later, I was bent over his knees, bare ass naked, and on a public bus! My face was pushed down, almost to the aisle floor, so my ass was in the air, over his lap. My knees were bent, so my feet were in the air, against the window. His beefy, strong arm was over the small of my back. It was pleasantly heavy, holding me down. I realized that with my hands bound, I could not move at all. He wasted no time as his other hand smacked against my right butt cheek, hard, much harder than I thought he would. The pain it produced was more than I thought I could take. His hand then solidly smacked my left butt cheek even harder. Seconds later, he was covering my butt with fast, hard slaps. I wanted to escape this intense pain, but something deep inside me realized I needed this punishment. He smacked me faster and harder. The noise echoed in the bus as I felt the first tears seep from my eyes and roll off my cheeks. I was fearful that my tears would cause him to stop. But he did not. A couple minutes later, tears were streaming down my face and onto the aisle floor.
With all sincerity, and I mean that I called out, "I'm sorry! I'll be good! I am so sorry. I promise I’ll be good." But his spanking continued. Oh god, he knew what I needed and deserved.
"I bet you’re sorry but not as sorry as you're gonna be. You've been a very bad LITTLE boy, and you will learn what happens to bad LITTLE boys like you." His hand started spanking even harder and faster, intentionally avoiding a rhythm or pattern I might get accustomed to. I was being hit from my ass cheeks to my thighs, on my right side and left, in a mix of unpredictable targeting. I started continually sobbing, and a minute after that, I was bawling loudly like a little kid.
Through my crying, I pleaded, "I'll be good; I promise. I'll be a good boy! I’ll be a good LITTLE boy."
Just as I was sure I would not be able to take anymore, he delivered several of the fastest and hardest spanks, causing me to cry out the loudest I’ve ever cried. Then just like that, he stopped. As I lay across his lap crying, I suddenly realized my cock was like a steel pipe lodged between his thighs. A few minutes later, he stood me up naked. Facing him, my dick all boned up and bobbing in front of this handsome ebony stranger who just manhandled me, I mean… boy-handled me.
"I hope that taught you a lesson, but I feel you will need many more lessons."
I stood there before him; my cock was so hard it was standing almost straight. I looked at him, looking at my dick. Then I looked down at it, too, and I was so humiliated. My face was red with total embarrassment to see my hard dick bobbing with excitement. My face was wet with tears, still dripping, as I tried to calm down. My ass was sore and felt very warm. Deep inside, I wanted more; I wanted him to humiliate me even more.
He had this big sexy smile, showing his beautiful perfect white teeth, as he stared at my dick and brought the tip of his index finger to lightly touch my piss slit. Then he slowly pushed it down, paused, and then let it flick up. He repeated that several times. He was talking to me but only looking at my dick bouncing up every time he let it go.
"Well, I gotta get this bus moving. Since Harry told me when he exited the bus to send you his way, I don’t want to drive you farther away from Harry's place. I’ll let you off here." I was so caught up in watching his finger flick my precum-dripping dick that I was slowly hearing his words. I was focused on his attempt to keep up with the twitching movements of my dick and continually teased it as it danced to his tune. He was controlling me with the slightest touch of his one index finger. My body trembled and shook. At first, I thought his finger was following the movement of my dick. But soon, I realized it was the other way around; my dick was following the movement of his mighty, all-powerful fingertip.
Then it sunk into my brain, "Wait! Oh god! Please. You can't send me out like this. I'm naked. And my hands are bound behind me! You can’t! Oh god! You can’t!"
"Boy, that sounded like an order," he said calmly. He was still looking at and teasing my leaking dick as it now danced to his will. Then he stopped, stood up, and started walking me to the front of the bus. To my horror, he opened the door and started pushing me down the steps to get out. My hands were still tied behind me, and my dick bobbed up and down, leading the way like the cane of a blind man probing for obstacles.
"No. Please, Sir. I'm sorry. You punished me as I needed. Now, please, Sir, don't send me out like this. Please." I started to beg and sob and plead.
“Now, that's better. Now you are talking to me with respect. I guess you are learning just a bit. OK, let me see what I have in the lost and found box for you to wear." He put his hand inside the box but not all the way. He had me stay at the top of the bus steps with the doors wide open and my dick facing the sidewalk. I wanted desperately to step further inside, so I could not be seen. But I dare not move; that would be showing him disrespect. I turned my head and twisted my body slightly to watch him, looking behind me near the driver’s seat. He was rummaging through the large plastic storage container picking up each item, taking his time. He examined several clothing items, including a t-shirt, shorts, another shirt, a small coat, sunglasses, keys, and a book. I guess people leave all sorts of stuff on his bus. After seeing the articles of clothing, I felt some relief. He really took his time, as I was getting more nervous, looking out the door to see people walking toward the bus from both directions. Fuck! He was really taking his time. Some of the people I saw from a distance were wearing shorts and sandals and carrying a beach chair. I realized we must be a few blocks from the beach.
The bus driver’s delay gave my dick time to go down, and it was now, more or less, flaccid. I was thankful for that. I was just about to call his attention to people approaching us when he interrupted my thought, “OK, step inside. You are lucky I found something for you to wear. You can take this if you want; it’s been here a long time."
Thankfully, I stepped back into the bus, though he left the doors open. And then I looked in shock at want he was holding out to me. It was not the clothing I saw him handling. It was a bright-pink bikini Speedo. “But... but… the other clothes… I… I…. can’t… Please… the other clothes?”
He smiled at my helplessness. “This is the only item that has been here a long time. We have to keep things for 60 days before tossing them out.” I kept shaking my head, “No, no, no.” “Well. It’s up to you, but you’re getting off this bus one way or another, and I don’t care if you leave with this or with nothing.” He was so fucking calm and so powerful. Thinking I was refusing it, he started to push me out the door.
"Wait, Please. Yes, I'll take it. Thank you, Sir."
I was sure he would untie me so I could put the bikini swimsuit on, but instead, he knelt down, and after prompting me, I raised my feet one at a time so he could get the Speedo on me. Then he pulled it up my legs. As he raised it, I realized how small and tight it was. It was easily two sizes too small for me, so it took him a while to maneuver them fully up to my waist. Strangely, he continually tugged, shifted, and pulled on them. I dare not complain; he might rip them off me and push me out naked. Then he was mumbling that my dick did not fit right. I wanted to yell, “Well, of course not. These Speedos are way too small.” But I just let him keep readjusting them.
I did not realize what he was doing, but soon, he had both his hands inside my stretchy, teeny, tiny bikini brief. He had one hand down my backside between my ass cheeks, touching my crack with fingertips, and the other down my front side, pulling and adjusting my balls and dick into place. However, he seemed unsatisfied with his various adjustment to the skimpy material.
My erection was developing again. With my hands secured, I could only watch him manipulate my dick and balls and grope my ass crack. First, he placed my hard dick toward my right hip but shook his head and repositioned it straight down, curving under my balls. He grunted with dissatisfaction and then moved my dick to point upwards, but it was getting longer and stiffer now, and it stuck up with only the base covered by the Speedo. Two-thirds of my pole showed pointing to my face. He loudly exhaled in frustration and slid it like a windshield wiper over to my left hip. “No,” he mumbled, then back to the right and back to my left hip. His other hand, down my ass crack, reached in further and cupped my balls. It tickled, and I wiggled my hips.
It dawned on me that he was teasing me on purpose to get me as erect as ever. The Speedos were so small; he could not pull them up to cover any of my pubic hair. He ended up leaving my now hair-trigger dick angled to my left hip. He “hooked” my mushroom head just under the waistband, letting it catch there so it would not spring up and peek out of the top of my swimsuit. Once done, he quickly pulled both hands out of my suit when I moaned and shuttered as if I was about to climax. He knew, I guess, I would shoot if he touched my dick any further. If I did shoot, my dick would go down, and the Speedo would fit a little better. Obviously, he did not want that. When he was finally finished with all his window wiper movements of my dick, I looked down and saw how indecent I looked. It was so tight that anyone seeing me could make out everything. The suit was so small; I could feel that the top third of my butt cheeks were not even covered by the material. And anyone standing near me could look down into the front of the suit and see my dick all cramped sideways since my dick stretched the material outward away from my belly.
He stood back, looking at me proudly, smiling, "That Speedo fits you perfectly; I can see almost half of your butt cheeks, and the red on them really goes with the pink material.” Then he added, "It was nice meeting you, kid. Harry lives down that road to your right, about six blocks. You can't miss his house; it's the only house you’ll see with huge palm trees in the front."
With my bikini barely covering my dick, I turned my back to him and pushed my bound hands toward him. I looked pleadingly at him to at least untie me. He gave me that wonderful toothy smile and winked as he scooted me through the doorway and steadied me as I took the three steps onto the sidewalk. My only comforting thought was that anyone who took a quick look at me would think I came from the nearby beach. I heard the bus engine start up, and he released the air brakes and left me there.
Although I saw people around me, none were close. My best bet was to hurry quickly to Harry’s house. My heart was pounding; my hard dick was throbbing with excitement. I started to run, but then I realized my dick, which was precariously wedged under my bowed-out waistband, would spring free, and with my hands bound, there would be no way for me to tuck it back in. I abruptly slowed and took long but slow and steady strides.
The possibility that someone would see me, or worse, walk up to me and check me out closely, was freaking me out. Yet, at the same time, it was keeping me very hard. I never looked in any other direction except straight ahead. I imagined people looking out their windows at me and coming up behind me, but I just kept going down this street, looking for the house with huge palm trees. If I saw someone walking toward me, I crossed to the other side of the street, desperately continuing to Harry’s house. I must have been in a daze, but the house with palm trees suddenly appeared. I walked more quickly to it and bounded up the few front porch stairs with a bounce.
“Shit!” My “bounding” caused my dick to spring out of my bikini Speedo and was now pointing straight toward the door before me. I was extremely anxious to get Harry’s attention to get into the safety of his house. The front door was open wide, but the screen door was closed, and the way the sun hit it, I could not see in. So, I call to him.
“Hello, Sir?” I did not want to call too loudly because his neighbors might hear and poke their heads out to look at me with my big boner sticking out. “Hello? Is it Nick? The guy from the bus?” Luckily, my Speedo didn’t fall down my legs. The front of the waistband was resting under my dick and sort of gripping against the top of my ball sack. I notice two couples walking on the sidewalk toward Harry’s house. I thought they wouldn’t see my obscene dick jutting out as long as I didn't turn around. If Harry did not come to the door soon, I thought I should somehow try to rub against the wall and work the swimsuit material back over my dick to cover it again. “Please? Sir? Are you there? Please, kind Sir?” Then I added the magic words. “I’ll be good, Sir.” I did not know Harry was peeking through the window curtains all along, watching my frantic behavior, and hearing my panicky pleadings.
After a few minutes, he finally appeared at the door behind the screen, and I could see him. I was so relieved. “Oh, thank God! I am so glad to see you. Please, may I come in? Sir?”
“Well, boy. I see you made it. You kept your word. Now that’s a good boy. How were your bus ride and your little trek to my house?” What the fuck? I’m standing on his porch with my dick pointing to his face like a cannon, and he is chit-chatting with me!
“Please, Sir, I am all beat. You win. I have no more fight left in me. I respect and honor you, the big winner.” Then I whispered, “May I please come in now; people are approaching.”
It’s a Bet
Part 4 of 5
“Now, finally… you are speaking with respect. Boy, I don’t mean to be hard on you, but apparently, you only respond to firm management.” He paused and then added, “I’ll tell you what, if you agree to not touch your dick or even your pink string thingy, I’ll untie your hands. Agreed?”
I was so fucking overjoyed. He was kind even though I treated him like an asshole. “YES! YES, Sir! I PROMISE!” And he turned me around and untied my hands. I shook my wrist. I was just as vulnerable, but somehow I felt better.
However, when he untyed me and shook my body in the process, my dick dislodged from being held up by the string waistband and now slid down to poke out from under the pouch. I looked down to see how indecent I was, standing nearly naked on his front porch with my dick protruding like a horizontal flagpole. Actually, I would have been less obscene if I were totally naked. The bright pink G-string brought more attention to me. I quickly looked around to see if anyone was on the street. I didn't know what I could do about it, but I had to know who was looking my way if anyone.
Suddenly Harry looked up and noticed, as I now did, an athletic teenager coming toward his house from the sidewalk. Oh shit! My dick is hanging out. “Hey, Billy,” Harry yells as he waves him up to the porch. “Come on up here. I’ve got your lawn-mowing pay. Come here. I’ll get it for you.” And Harry disappeared into the house. As Billy cautiously approached the steps, I wanted to disappear from the front porch. As he approached from behind, he was googling at me and my near nakedness in public.
“Whoa!” was all he said as he stepped fully onto the porch beside me. He was dressed in western-style boots and jeans, with a muscle T-shirt. Billy was shocked to see my dick sticking straight up from my bikini string. He, obviously, saw me standing in a submissive position as I held my hands behind my back. I immediately turned away from him to try to hide my jutting dick, even though he was already staring at it. I was so humiliated. My dick was now bobbing up and down and drooling liquid strings of precum. My face must have been beet red as I involuntarily made a nervous, stuttering hum. I was trying to think of something to say to answer the thousand questions that must be whirling around in his head. I just cleared my throat in preparation to speak when Harry called out from inside the house.
“Billy, come on in. The screen is unlatched,” came Harry’s voice from inside. “I’ll have to write you a check for this month.” Since I planted myself close to the screen door to try to hide from the view of the street, Billy had to reach across in front of me to grab the handle. He was slowly squeezing himself between me and the door. His backside gently pressed against my nearly-naked front and rubbed my dick as he nudged me politely to step back. He was not rude, just politely trying to open the screen door I was blocking. I just moaned as I felt his jeans-covered ass press against my dick head. He pulled the door toward us, which, in turn, pushed him more tightly against me. I was just too scared to step back or turn my body. I was shaking. I did not know what to do, so I left my feet glued where they were.
Finally, he looked me in the eyes and whispered sheepishly, “Sorry, I just need to….” Then with one hand pulling the door open, he placed his other hand on my dick and used it as a handle to nudge me back. Then, suddenly feeling foolish, he let go and noticed my leaking goo all over his hand and running down his jeans. He had a puzzled look on his face. I guess he felt some sympathy for me standing there so obscene looking. He leaned to my ear and quietly said, “Do you want me to tuck your dick into your … ah … pouch?”
I whispered back, “Oh please,” and I started to tear up. I was humiliated, asking a handsome cowboy-type stranger to shove my dick into my pink bikini. I was busting with embarrassment. He was obviously straight and just being kind. But was he actually going to grab my leaky boner with his hands … on Harry’s porch? Are neighbors watching through windows? I just wanted to crawl into a hole. But I looked at him teary-eyed and whimpered, “Please?”
I whispered again, “Oh please,” and gave in a beggar’s stare. He awkwardly took my dick in one hand and tried to push-force it back under the pouch material. In the process, he pulled the G-string Speedo up to try to cover my dick within the pouch. But this caused my balls to plop out and fall out the bottom of the tiny pouch. He tried to stretch my bikini pouch up, but of course, it was too small. Billy then tried to pull the skimpy back panel up the back, exposing my ass cheeks. Then he pulled up the front section again. He pulled it up and away from my groin to jam my balls and dick back inside before letting go of the waistband. I now knew why the bus driver had one hand down my backside, between my ass cheeks, as he worked the tiny material on me. He was pulling my balls down and back toward my asshole, so there would be more room in the front of the Speedo to house my dick. But I was not going to tell Billy what to do. I was so humiliated. He was trying to help me. My knees were shaking as this handsome cowboy carefully manipulated my hard dick this way and that. But all that was happening was that I was getting closer to climaxing.
He finally placed my dick under the waistband, pointing to my right hip. My hard dick usually curves a little to the left, so I was not sure it would stay. Then Harry again called out, “Billy, I’ve got your check for you.” And suddenly, we both saw Harry appear on the other side of the screen door. Billy stopped immediately and turned to Harry. He was red-faced, embarrassed, and hoped that Harry did not see him touch me. “Here you go, Billy.” Harry opened the door a few inches and handed him the check. Billy quickly said thanks and hurriedly turned to go down the steps, bumping nervously into me on his way to the walkway. That “bump” caused my dick to flip out again. I don’t know if Harry saw Billy trying to subdue my dick, but he did not mention it; he just smiled.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes, you were apologizing for wearing that ridiculous pink bikini. They look like the obscene panties of some two-bit whore, don’t they?” Again, I nodded. “You were much better off staying the way I left you. Weren’t you, boy?” I nodded, begging with my eyes for him to usher me inside. “Well? You don’t expect to enter my home wearing that indecent little pussy rag, do you?” I shook my head no. “Well? Get rid of them, boy, and don’t use your hands. ”
I was stunned. But I finally picked up on what he was telling me. What he was ordering me to do. I stepped to the side of his stucco house, bent my knees low, pressed my left side against the wall, and then straightened my legs to stand. I did this a few times. The rough stucco kind of grabbed the material and held it as I stood, making the string speedo roll down my thighs. The stucco also scratched up my skin a bit, but Harry smiled as I repeated the same maneuver on my right side.
Now the Speedo was just above my knees. One more time, I used the stucco maneuver, and this time, the material rolled below my knees and fell to the ground. Now I stood on Harry’s front porch, totally naked and fully boned up. I did not notice anyone coming along the sidewalk, but I thought someone would soon. I was completely at Harry’s mercy. Naked, my hands kept behind my back as Harry had instructed, with my still rigid boner dripping. I waited.
I know this was what I needed. What I justly deserved. I started to cry. I wanted Harry to hug me, kiss me, spank me, bring me inside, and leave me outside - I did not care. What the FUCK! I wanted whatever Harry wanted me to do… to be. I sobbed and sniffed at Harry helplessly through the screen door. It was unlocked; he only needed to open it and let me in. We stared at each other, and I cried, “I am so fucking sorry, Sir. I tricked you, tried to cheat you, and was rude and arrogant to you. I am so truly, fucking sorry. I don’t deserve your help, my clothes,” I angrily kicked off the G-string that had fallen around my ankles, making my nakedness complete. “No, I don’t deserve my return bus fare. I don’t deserve any kindness from you. I feel so fucking stupid for being a fuck-up, selfish, greedy, self-centered, idiotic asshole. And I am so very sorry for all my stupid behavior.” And I cried. I didn’t care what happened to me. I didn’t care who heard me, who saw me.
As I started calming down to sobs and sniffles, I thought Harry would let me inside. I was sincere and now truly respected Harry, no matter what he would or would not do. This is the punishment I deserve. He owes me nothing. I didn’t know what would happen to me or where I would go, nor did I care. I was all out of fight, completely empty of arrogance and the need to have anything my way. I was not the winner; I was the loser. I just stayed there and looked down at my naked feet, with my huge hard dick sticking out. I saw a puddle of precum between my feet.
Harry said one word, “Stay.” And I did. Where was I going to go? He disappeared into the house, and I heard him making some cutting-type noise. I had no concern that someone might pass by and see me so naked. In a few minutes, Harry came back to the door. I could see him carrying a bundle of stuff, my clothes. “What are these?”
I looked at the bundle. “These are the clothes you won from me in the card game we played on the bus, the card game where I tried to cheat you out of your money and jewelry.” Without waiting any longer, he opened the screen door and set the small pile of clothes on the concrete beside me. My jeans, shirt, t-shirt, underwear, and socks were all there, with my tennis shoes on top. My MP3 player, my wallet, my money, my backpack, and all the stuff in it was missing from his winnings. Then I realized he was extremely generous to return my clothes. I did not deserve to have even these. “I have your return bus ticket for you to get back home. I’ll give you that, too.” I looked at the pile of meaningless clothes for a long time. I bent down to pick them up. “How strange to have this choice to get dressed,” I thought. My ordeal was over. I was no longer wanted. I screwed up big time. I was done being temporarily used and controlled as punishment. I no longer had an owner, an overseer.
My dick had gone soft as I reflected on these final, parting thoughts. I was now to go home. I was being left to my own decisions, my own values, and my own deceptions. Alone, I have made some greedy, hurtful, and callous decisions. I have conned people, including my friends and dorm-mates, out of large amounts of money and their valuable possessions. I am sure that to many of them, what I took from them was painfully missed. My need to win at poker was not to increase my fortune. I did not need money. It was to feed my ego. My stupid ego.
I sadly reached for my clothes, picked up my underwear, and started to put one foot into the leg hole. Then, in a calm yet authoritative voice, I heard, “Or … you can take that pile of clothes, walk out to where my trashcans have been set at the curb and place them in there with the rest of my refuge. The trash collectors should be here any moment. They must be late. Then come back here, and I will let you inside to be severely spanked as I promised you I would do when we met on the bus this morning.”
Any average, normal teen of 20 would ask the fundamental and reasonable questions: “What will I wear when I do go back to my dorm room? What will you do with me, to me? How long will I be here? Will you give me money to get home? Will all my other processions be returned? How will I get home? What about my school? It’s Saturday, and I have classes the day after tomorrow?” These were all important and reasonable questions, especially for this 70-year-old stranger. But I asked none of them. To require these answers would mean that I want the responsibility for making decisions. What a natural high not making decisions created in me. I was scared, needy, nervous, afraid, child-like, embarrassed, helpless, worried, endangered, vulnerable… humiliated … very humiliated. I felt a stir in my soft dick. Again I thought about being humiliated, and again my dick tingled. Being humiliated publicly, both frightened me and thrilled me.
I looked up at Harry, who stared at me, waiting for me to make a final decision: ask for the bus fare home or take my precious clothes to the trash can. I saw no clue in his eyes what he wanted; it was my decision, my final decision involving Harry. I stooped down, picked up the clothes, and paused. Then I heard the noisy trash truck approaching. I heard the air brakes squeal. The hydraulic mechanism powerfully grunted away as it finished a nearby neighbor’s collection. It was now at the house next door, emptying those cans. The noise snapped me out of my daze. I quickly pivoted on the porch, and with my full nakedness for all to see, I carried the pile of clothes in both arms, close to my chest, and moved quickly down the walkway to the curb, where Harry’s covered trashcans sat.
The trash truck was arriving. When it stopped at the curb, I saw two men two young Latino men; one was the guy riding on the bumper end, and the other I saw through the cab window. They must have been weirded out to see a naked teen at the curb as if he was waiting for them. I wasn’t. It was just a coincidence that we were both there at the same time. There they were, the driver staring at me from his high vantage point in the cap and the other man hopping down as he approached Harry’s cans. I thought he would assist me by raising one of the lids to allow me to deposit my arms full of clothes. I was shocked when he started speaking to me instead.
“Hold on, just a sec,” said the muscular white man with a nametag indicating “Sam” as he eyed my nakedness up and down. “You can’t mix recyclables with vegetation.” WHAT THE FUCK!
I looked up at Harry, who stared at me, waiting for me to make a final decision: ask for the bus fare home or take my precious clothes to the trash can. I saw no clue in his eyes what he wanted; it was my decision, my final decision involving Harry. I stooped down, picked up the clothes, and paused. Then I heard the noisy trash truck approaching. I heard the air brakes squeal. The hydraulic mechanism powerfully grunted away as it finished a nearby neighbor’s collection. It was now at the house next door, emptying those cans. The noise snapped me out of my daze. I quickly pivoted on the porch, and with my full nakedness for all to see, I carried the pile of clothes in both arms, close to my chest, and moved quickly down the walkway to the sidewalk, to the curb, where Harry’s covered trashcans sat.
The trash truck was arriving. When it stopped at the curb, I saw two men two young Latino men; one was the guy riding on the bumper end, and the other I saw through the cab window. They must have been weirded out to see a naked teen at the curb as if he was waiting for them. I wasn’t. It was just a coincidence that we were both there at the same time. There they were, the driver staring at me from his high vantage point in the cap and the other man hopping down as he approached Harry’s cans. I thought he would assist me by raising one of the lids to allow me to deposit my arms full of clothes. I was shocked when he started speaking to me instead.
“Hold on, just a sec,” said the muscular white man with a nametag indicating “Sam” as he eyed my nakedness up and down. “You can’t mix recyclables with vegetation.” I screamed inside my head, “WHAT THE FUCK!”
Then he added as if he thought of it, “And you can’t stand near the truck for safety reasons. Put those down here, and please step back to the sidewalk. “ As he spoke, his arm gestured for me to back up, and he accidentally deposited a small blob of grease on my belly. “Oh, sorry. Here.” He reached for a roll of paper towels and handed it to me. I immediately wiped whatever it was off my body.
I laid the clothes down at the curb and stepped back as he told me. I'll never know why I did not immediately hop back up to Harry’s pouch. I did not think about it then or ever. I just obeyed these two musky-smelling, handsome Latinos. A few cars drove by, honked, and hooted at me. I just stood there as the trash man emptied the two cans there and then signaled to his driver to cut the engine and come down to us.
I had to get off the street, so I quickly tried to resolve this issue, whatever his issue was. “I just need to put these in the trash, any trash. What do you want me to do? Get a different type of container?” I spoke nervously as I now addressed both men. I again felt humiliated, being naked, and needing to deal with these two … two … trash men.
“First, are these your clothes? Or did you steal them?” I should have said, “It’s none of your business.” But both men seemed to be making a big issue out of nothing as they each removed their heavy work gloves. “So, where did you steal these?” I had no idea if they were seriously asking these questions. It seemed so obscure, but I was scared. I was panicky. I had to get back to the safety of Harry’s porch.
“What? Steal them? Me? These ARE my clothes. Please take them. I need to get rid of them. Please.” Now I sounded like I was begging. I could not help it; I wanted to get back to Harry and the security of his house. “Please?”
“Let me take a look at these.” And Sam picked up my shoes and socks and held them up. “Don’t you know there are boys and young men who would fight for expensive shoes like this? I know this brand, but I cannot afford shoes like these. Many of your neighbors here don’t even have decent shoes. Are you some conceited asshole, little muscle stud who does not care about your own neighbors?” He was not yelling, but he did sound angry. That shook me up and got me off balance.
“I am so sorry. Please. Please give them to anyone who needs them.” I was shaking and was extremely embarrassed. He simply looked at me in disgust and placed the shoes and socks in a plastic box attached to the side of the truck. I guess it was for special items that should not be thrown away. Then he picked up my shirt. “Are you kidding me?” He said in disbelief, “I’ll bet this shirt cost $50.” I stupidly blurted out 100. “What kind of a degenerate is as selfish as you? I just shook my head and looked down at the ground. Then he picked up my t-shirt, a muscle, string top T-shirt, and said, “Now we have a problem. Jessie.” He was speaking to his driver now. He held up the tee, “Look at this.” Jessie was probably wondering where Sam was going with this. “First, this bastard tries to throw away his costly clothes. Now he has this tiny, stolen t-shirt from God knows who, probably some poor kid, and is trying to get rid of the evidence.”
“No! Wait! That’s mine, too. Honest. It’s a muscle shirt; it’s supposed to be super tight. Really, it’s mine.” I pleaded.
“Let's just see if it’s actually your size.” Jessie told me, “Come over here. We want to put this up against you to see if it would fit.” I covered my dick with both hands as I walked up to Jessie and stood one foot before him. Sam moves behind me, maybe as close as one foot. I could smell a lot of sweat and heavy manliness. Then Sam did something odd. He took my t-shirt and held it at the top of the shoulder straps, and from behind me, he brought it over my head to hold it in front of my chest for Jessie to check. That was weird. In the process, Sam moved his body very close to my backside. His clothes were now rubbing against my bare back and butt. It was as if he was giving me a full-body bear hug from behind me. His muscular biceps were circling – and caressing - my shoulders as he held the shirt against my chest.
I moaned. I could not help it. I loved how my bare backside rubbed against his shirt and pants. His chest, belly, groin, thighs, legs … all pressed against me. Even his booted feet were pressed against the insides of my naked feet. I did not want him to step on me, so I abruptly moved my bare feet out and away from his heavy leather boots. Weird, but soon after that, I again felt his boots against the inside of my feet, and again I quickly moved mine still farther apart, spreading my legs wider. Sam asked Jessie, “Does it look like this would fit him?”
“I don’t know, Sam,” Jessie said, “His arms and shoulders are all scrunched up.” Of course, I held them to cover up my dick and balls. After all, I was on the sidewalk … naked! I saw a white Toyota pickup slowly drive by. The driver was staring at us. That was creepy. Jessie said my shrugged posture made my shoulders too narrow to match the tee.” Then Sam told me to flex my biceps and place my elbows out to the sides, my fist toward my head. So I did. “Just hold that position.” I did.
I felt so fucking stupid. I was out on the public sidewalk, totally naked, and these two guys had me sandwiched between them, having me strike a pose to flex my bicep muscles. I felt like an idiot. I don’t know if Sam, the guy behind me, was intentionally rubbing the front of his body against my butt or if I was just too weak to stand still, and I was swaying against him at times. His clothes were massaging my entire body. I held to keep my feet wide to prevent Sam from stepping on my toes. I felt the row of brass buttons on the fly of his pants slowly move up and down my ass crack. He must have been gyrating his hips. My dick was getting harder, and my arms were required to stay in this tense muscle-flexing pose, so I could not protect or even cover my dick. I was confused. I really never thought of them as mind fucking me. They weren’t, were they? I felt so manipulated. My dick didn’t care. It was happy and pointing straight at Jessie.
“OK, Jessie, with his arms up flexing, now can you tell if this fits him?” Sam had gone from just holding the straps loosely in front of my chest to now pressing the straps onto the top of my shoulders. His fingers were teasing my neck, almost massaging it, but I am sure it was not done intentionally.
“Sam, it’s hard to tell,” Jessie told him. “Let’s have this bitch just put it on, and then we can judge.” Sam agreed, so I grabbed the tee, raised it over my head, wormed my head into it, and pulled the body of the shirt down. The bottom edge rested just above my hard dick. It fit like always, very snugly. “Now, make your bicep muscles again.” I did.
“That is tight.” Jessie stared at the front of the shirt. “Sam, most of these muscle shirts are designed to center a guy’s nipples in the center of the material. Here I cannot tell. His nipples must be tiny.” Jessie and Sam laughed. I wondered if Harry was watching all this from inside his house. God, I wish he’d rescue me. I just wanted to cry.
“Guys? It’s my shirt!” I finally spoke up loudly. “It always fits like this. My nipples are fine. That’s how it fits.” I can’t believe this. These two filthy, sweaty, macho garbage men are having me stand out on the sidewalk, wearing only a thin t-shirt, and my dick is sticking out like a sword. And… now they are having a lively conversation about my tits! WHAT THE FUCK! I’m glad the trash truck is blocking a lot of the public view, at least from across the street. But then the white Toyota pickup truck is back again. And he just parked on this side of the street; he is nose-to-nose with the trash truck. He is so close; I looked at his eyes throw his windshield. The bastard is smiling. And just when I think he has shown all the balls he had, he takes out his cell and begins to record me! How in the fuck did I get into this? Why don’t these guys leave me alone? FUCK, why don’t I just leave and go to Harry’s porch? Why am I staying here, submitting? Why do I have a boner?
It’s a Bet
Part 5 of 5
“Wait, Sam,” said Jessie, who was only six inches in front of me. “Let me make his nipples more… prominent.” He raised his hands, and using his index fingers, he felt under the straps to find my tits. He lightly scratched my flat tits with his fingernails. I thought he’d stop immediately, but he continued to scratch them and pinch and pull them. I moaned, trembled, and tried to jerk back away from him, but Sam was right up against my back, bracing me. “Sam, hold him still so I can work his nipples, then we’ll see them make a little peak into the material.” My dick was now bobbing up and down as I moaned, naked in public with a dripping boner, all while some pervert recorded me. They seemed to own me; I felt helpless and humiliated.
I was withering and weak-kneed. I refuse to admit that I enjoyed leaning back intentionally hard against Sam’s chest, assisting them in immobilizing me. It was wonderful having my tits played with by two grubby, handsome, young strangers in the full daylight of the mid-afternoon. My motor was running loud and clear. I was still pretending to resist, so they would not stop manhandling me. At some point, my T-shirt was lifted off my head. I was lost in Wonderland. Sam, behind me, now shoved my bare feet wider with his boots. It was weird because it made it difficult to stand straight. Then he brought his arms under my armpits and interlocked his fingers behind my neck. Creating a full-nelson wrestling hold caused my arms to flail upward, like gull wings. He did not use much pressure. It seemed he was not trying to hurt me but just holding me still. I resisted, as I felt I needed to, but with very little force.
Then Sam, while he leaned his upper body backward, forced me to lean back with him, lifting my bare feet off the ground. My struggle, as pretentious as it was, was not impacting his ability to hold me still. It did cause my hips to be thrust forward, pushing my dick out into Jessie. I now felt, or thought I felt, Sam’s hard dick being pressed against my bare ass.
Then Jessie humiliated me by mentioning to Sam that my dick was super hard and now leaking precum all over his work clothes. He seemed slightly irritated and blankly asked me, “What’s up with you, prick? Why is it so hard and dripping? Your dick slop is getting all over my new clothes.” Of course, those were not new, but I said nothing. I felt so ashamed. He thought for a moment and asked, “Hey, Sam, what can we do to stop this fuck from dripping all over us, or at least me?” Sam suggested Jessie grab the T-shirt on the ground and wipe me down. Jessie nodded.
He leaned over, picked up the shirt, wrapped it around my dick, and rubbed it lightly. What the FUCK! I was completely made immobile by Sam’s full-nelson hold on me and made to lean backward on Sam like a rag doll. There was nothing I could do to resist or move. I was their puppet. AND… I was totally naked in public in broad daylight! AND… my dick was all boned up, sticking out, and Jessie was lightly patting it to wipe off the dripping precum. The guy in the Toyota continued to hold his cell out toward me. I moaned at my helpless, forced naked exhibition… for two rough and sweaty well-built garbage men!
“Sam, every time I wipe it dry, it leaks more, like a leaking pipe. He is even getting his slime all over his balls. Oh, I can wipe his balls down too.” Then I felt the soft tee-shirt material lightly tickle my balls. I was gasping for air, making animal sounds, desperate to climax. I could not take any more teasing of my dick or balls or even my tits. I was edged to exhaustion, near collapse. I tried to stop them but could only manage to vocalize, “Please.”
“Well, maybe he will drip until he is empty, and when empty, he will not make any further mess. Or should we let him beat off? That should end the mess with a bang.” They both laughed at that. “Second thought, it would be offensive for him to do it here on the street. Many people are probably watching from their windows, and some might be offended. Well, our friend in the pickup does not seem to mind.” The two guys chuckled at the video guy. “No, I don’t think that is a good idea. Plus, it does not seem right to allow him the privilege to beat off.” Sam agreed.
“Let’s do this,” Sam said. “I’ll continue to hold his tight little body so he won’t be able to masturbate in public. Just let him drip. Jessie. Use his T-shirt to wipe off his goo as he leaks from his dick faucet. Then we can finish our uninterrupted questioning to determine if he is a thief.” Jessie agreed.
I just wanted my dick to go down and get to Harry’s house’s safety. But just as I thought my dick might be deflating, I felt Jessie wiping my dick off. Worst thing was he was very gentle and tickling as he did it. Then he grabbed my balls and pulled them down, causing my dick to stand obscenely out alone, and with the other hand, he lightly touched my dick all over with my soft cotton tee, flickering it like a feather duster. He manipulated me back to a full erection.
There I was, sandwiched between two young muscle-toned dirty street workers, one holding me from behind and the other teasing my dick. I was totally naked, embarrassed, and made a public spectacle.
FUCK! I just wanted to grab my dick, and with two quick, firm pumps, I’d release a full day’s load of pent-up cum. Instead, the full-nelson wrestling hold Sam had me in made my arms stick out at an upward angle from my shoulders, like gull wings. “Please?” I was breathing hard. Jessie likely noticed that, so he stopped feather-dusting my dick and balls. I was never sure if they were teasing me to edge me or whether this was all a big misunderstanding. I used to consider myself a smart, know-everything top stud. Since I met Harry, I don’t know who I am or what I should be. I only know decisions are no longer mine to make.
As soon as Jessie stopped teasing my dick, on purpose or not (who the fuck knows – who the fuck cares), he picked up my jeans from the pile. “Wow, Sam, I think these are super expensive, too. These can’t be his.” He further examined them and even turned them inside out. “Oh-oh. Lookie here, Sam. Take a look at want this little muscle stud brought us.” I, too, was curious about what he just discovered. He had inserted his hand through the cut hole in the butt area to point it out to Sam. As I looked more closely, the hole ran from the crotch where my balls would be to near the top of where my ass crack would be.
“Do you suppose this is a fuck hole? That he made it so he can bend over whenever he wants to have a big fat dick shoved up his ass?” Then he brought them to my face and wiggled his fingers through the hole. “So, is this true? Little man? These are your fag fuck pants you wear out to gay bars?” Jessie asked.
I garnered some strength, “Hell no. I’m straight. I don’t have fuck pants, I don’t get fucked, but… but… but… these are my pants. Something must have caught on them, and they ripped.” I really believed that Harry cut the hole before giving them back to me so that if I went home on the bus, every time I bent over, everyone would see my ass. I’d be embarrassed. Sam and Jessie didn’t seem to believe me. “Look, if they were fuck-pants, no one could fuck me because I wear underwear, so you are wrong. You can’t fuck me through underwear.” Sam and Jessie seemed to believe me, mumbling that it made sense. Jessie put the down pants and picked up my last article in the pile I carried out to the trash, my red bikini brief underwear, which Harry had won from me in the morning poker game on the bus.
“And… now… lookie here. You think these red bitch bikinis are his, or do you think they are stolen?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned them inside out to take a better look. “Oh, you are a bad little muscle stud boy,” Jessie said as he noticed a hole cut in them too. I saw that he was poking his fingers through a large hole about two inches in diameter in the bottom back of my underwear. He let out a toothy grin. Yes, this was Harry’s doing, too. I guess he really wanted me to be embarrassed and humiliated if I left his place dressed in those clothes. Anyone could see my asshole through the round hole cut in the red briefs, made visible by the larger hole in my jeans. Yes, it was Harry’s work, but I lied to Sam and Jessie. I needed an end to this. I lied and told them that I intentionally cut holes in my jeans and underwear to get fucked on the spot in any gay club. Now they would no longer argue if these were mine. I broke down. I felt so stupid, embarrassed, and humiliated. I cried aloud, “Please let me go,” even though Sam had already let go of me, I still thought I was their captive bitch. “I am so freaked out. Please!”
Both men began to play with my body parts. “Oh, Yes. Fuck…” My ass was now being tickled. First, my dick was slowly pumped, then I felt fingertips on my balls, then hunky Sam was behind me and tickling around my asshole. “OOOOOOOOOOOO! Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” There must be four hands teasing, playing, massaging, tickling my dick, ass, and balls, “AHHHHHHHHHHH!
“Hmmmmmm.” Yes, I was going to blast off. I was so dizzy and lightheaded. My balls were tightening, and my dick was in the process of squirting volumes. In my mind, I was thinking five, four, three, two, and… And… all of a sudden, the hand leaves my dick waving and nodding with short pulses, “yes,” “yes,” “yes.” It is doing a solo dance with no one touching it. I hear Sam hock up gobs of spit. Soon my ass feels so good; a finger is entering and slowly pumping in and out of my asshole. “UMMMMMMMM. OHHHHHH. SHHHIIIITTTT!” I just want to cum. My dick is right there, begging, craving one last firm stroke. “PPLLLLEEEEAAASSSEEEEEEEE.”
I heard a horn honking and some teens jeering me somewhere in the distance. It’s not the first traffic noise, but somehow I was relating it to me. Oh, fuck! I’ve got to go. I can’t be seen. I can’t be here like this…”
I saw a cop coming, I imagined myself getting arrest. Right there in the street, in front of Harry’s house.
My mind was going wild. I was fucking scared out of my wits. Just think, getting arrested for being naked in public. But, then, the cop turned off onto the side street before seeing me. Lucky break. ”
What a vsion! Now I’m thinking I had become nothing but a pussy sub, Harry’s cunt slut, to obey without question. He’s loaned me out to garbage men, sweaty day laborers, and even filthy sewer workers.
“Hey, little stud! Do you hear me!” Sam woke me from my daze. I was back at the curb, naked and all boned up. I was back to my current, unresolved reality. Seeing he had my attention again, Sam dropped his voice to a whisper, “No one is stopping you,” Again, I felt four hands all over me, teasing, lightly rubbing, tickling. My tits were tweaked, my balls gently pulled down, only a little attention on my hair-trigger dick, and my ass was so comforted by that plunging finger.
“Please stop. Let me leave. I’ve got to get into the house. Please!”
“I’m not restraining you; you’re the one leaning on me. And by the way, your ass is clamping down on my finger. You seem not to want to go anywhere. What is it that is upsetting you, Stud?”
“Upsetting me! Fuck! You guys got me out here at the curbside, totally naked! People can see me! You got me all boned up like a fucking street whore!” My dick just then was about to cough up a huge load, but Jessie pulled his hand off and immediately was pinching and twisting my tits with his fingernails. I was sobbing. I almost came. “You bastards! You think you can do anything to me! I felt like your public fuck toy. You keep me naked and hard, like your boner boy fuck-up toy.” I agreed with them. My mind was only stating the obvious.
“That sounds about right. So what do you want? No one is keeping you here, all exposed and publicly humiliated. You want to suck our dicks? Get fucked hard? Right in the street? In broad daylight? Like a fuck-up bitch slut?” Sam asked.
“Oh god, yes, please fuck me, please. Do it now. I don’t fucking care who sees. I really need it. Oh fuck, yes, I have to have your dicks to suck. Please force them down my slut throat. Please use your sexed-up, fuck toy, please, please, now. Do it now. Please use me here, please. I can’t stand it.”
“Well, isn’t that a good little stud? Begging to be fucked and to take our dicks, right here, while cars drive by, with you all naked, like, as you say, a sick, sexed-up, fuck toy for our use.” I was finally going to get what I wanted and needed. “Well, Jessie? I don’t think he is worth our effort, do you?” Jessie shook his head. All of a sudden, Jessie stopped touching me and stepped back. Sam removed his warm finger from my asshole and let me slide down his body, crumpling on the ground. He looked down at me, “What a fucked-up piece of shit you are. Look at you, all naked, piled on the grass, your dick still pumping more pussy juice. You’re making a mess on my boot. Don’t you think you should lick it off? Huh, stud? Is that something worth you begging me for?”
“Please, Sir, may I lick the cum off your boot? I’d be honored.” I teared up in complete humiliation. What a degenerate I had become, from just this morning when I was all high and mighty and cock-sure of everything. Now, I beg to suck dick, get fucked, and even lick a garbage man’s filthy work boot. Here. Right fucking here! All naked and kneeling. “Please, kind Sir? Let me lick your mighty boot?” I sobbed and continued. “Oh, God, yes. Please, I need to please you,” I said as my face hovered over his boot. I licked my lips in preparation. My tongue was sticking out of my mouth like a panting puppy. I was drooling and ready to give his garbage-smelling boot a real spit shine. I was waiting for permission.
After a very long silent pause, as my eager tongue was hovering over the filthy leather, he said, “Nah, I don’t think a naked boned-up pile of shit like you is worthy to do that. Go on; get back in your house before you get arrested.” It was Harry’s house, but I knew what he meant. “And remember, don’t ever touch the leaking fuck pole of yours. It’s not for your enjoyment. It’s not your toy. Just consider it something that you carry around and offer to a real man to amuse himself. If a man, ANY man, wants you all hard and dripping your juice, it is none of your fucking business. Now, crawl. Crawl to your house and leak all over it. Like a good fucked-up muscle stud.” He was not really angry, but he said it in a way to signal that the idea of me licking his boot was an honor I had no right to.
I found myself so humiliated. I was kneeling on the ground, in public, naked, and my dick harder than ever. The tip was pointing up to and rubbing against my belly and dripping my slop all over my belly and onto my thighs. I had gone from a bright-eyed, smart, know-it-all teenager to a slutty asshole, unworthy to lick a real man’s filthy, smelly boot. I was ready to lick his garbage worker’s boot and begged him to let me do it. And… and… he refused me! Am I not worthy enough? I’m not! And, I admitted to myself, he was right. Harry was so right. He never said it; I guess it needed to be a self-discovery. Who I had become, who I had been inside all along, was a cock-sucking, fuck-hole slut, who needed to be humiliated, even in public, and present myself as a plaything for a man to use. Would Harry accept me? I wondered.
I sobbed softly and wondered. I turned and crawled on my hands and knees up the walkway toward Harry’s house. The trash truck drove off to the neighbor’s property and then beyond. I glanced back where we were standing and also noticed my clothes were gone. I did not care. Those clothes were none of my concern. I tried to blow out the snot from my runny nose as I crawled up Harry’s stairs. I crawled, wondering if Harry would still want to use me for anything. As I approached the screen door, it opened toward me, and I saw Harry standing there in the doorway, holding it open for me. I assumed he wanted me inside. After all, I was still naked, and now, on his porch, his neighbors would know he knew me. But he stood there as if waiting for something.
I was now on my hands and knees before him, with nowhere to go. I broke down. I placed my face on his shoes, kissed them, and hugged his legs as tight as possible. I never wanted to let go. I embraced his lower body, not only in my bare skin but with my soul stripped naked, as well. I knelt down, my face at his groin, and squeezed him as my way of begging him to forgive me. He was silent, as my chest and arms now encircled his upper thighs and ass cheeks. I held onto him desperately, so full of humiliation and shame. I cried out loud with my open mouth pressed firmly against his pant zipper as I cried into his groin. It was not a sexual thing. That’s just where my face ended up when I kneeled there. I could feel his dick inside, stretching out and lengthening. My eyes were squeezed shut. I was too embarrassed to look up at him. There, on his front porch, naked, I openly whaled my most intimate private needs and completely exposed myself.
“Sir, I am so sorry. I am so, so fucking sorry.” And then I just convulsed with tremors and released uncontrollable sobbing. Harry did not speak, nor did he move. He let me hold him tightly as I handed him my soul. “Please forgive me. I was so cruel, greedy, selfish, arrogant, and wrong. I cheated you and everyone, and even my dorm room friends. I will never play poker again. Never! I am so sorry I treated you and everyone like dog shit.” I cried more sobs. “You don’t have to accept my apology. You don’t have to speak to me or even let me in. I don’t deserve to be in the company of an honorable and powerful man like you.” And I released more tears until I was emptied by my confession and new-found humility. Then a hand touched me gently on the top of the head and stroked my hair softly from ear to ear. Then he spoke.
“Here are the new rules, my rules that will control your life, at least in the near future.” And he listed them. My mouth gaped open in awe as he went through his list.
“One, you will come to visit me every Friday evening when we are mutually available. When you arrive, and before you ring my doorbell, you will strip naked and toss ALL your clothes into my trashcan on the side of the house. Best if you buy cheap, used clothes at a thrift store and wear as little as possible on your journey here so you won’t have to throw away any important clothes. Furthermore, I suggest you stop wearing shoes on your journey here, so you won’t have to keep replacing them. I promise you will leave here in time for your college classes at the weekday start. I assume Monday morning.” I nodded hypnotically. “Two, you will no longer play with your dick to climax or even just to tease it, not even if you are bored in the privacy of the dorm room. Of course, if a virile lad like you has a climactic dream, I will not hold that against you. You did not knowingly cause that. If you feel you will either need to climax or go crazy, you will have to call me. I might allow you to beat off, but not likely. Your agony in times of extreme erotic frustration is something that I will strive to deeply develop in you.” Of course, I knew he wanted me to be in agony for long periods of time--needy for his approval.
“If you feel it is better for you to enjoy a much-needed climax, anyway, and then suffer the consequences with me later, it will cost you dearly. Your punishment will be intense. And you will regret testing me. The upside for me is that I will enjoy your physical pain almost as much as your erotic pain. You do not know it yet, but you will seek desperately to please me even if it means seeking severe punishment from me, even for no reason.” He smiled as he said this. I did not believe him, but my dick bobbed a few times.
“Three, I will put you through various training ‘programs’ so that your dick will learn two things: 1) your dick will get hard and stay hard anytime I wish, no matter where we are or the circumstances. 2) It will not release its load. I will allow your release occasionally to keep you healthy, usually in public. You will not enjoy being pent up and frustrated to the extreme. However, that is none of your concern. It is rather another important way you will learn to please me. So if you have an erection, even none stop, for several days, from Friday night to Monday morning, you will be ecstatic because it pleases me. Although, I do realize that you will need to get some sleep. I must tell you, boy, I do love those occasional three-day holiday weekends where you need not return to class until Tuesday.” He spoke firmly. I think I caught him lustfully drooling. As if rule three was not shocking enough, he floored me with his last rule.
“Last, you will NOT stop playing poker, as you just promised a while ago. Just the opposite. You will continue to play with anyone who asks you to. You will carry a deck of cards, often in your hand, to signal your readiness for a betting game. However, you are never,” he put his finger under my chin to bring my face looking up into his eyes, “NEVER to win. You will use all your past art of conning everyone to throw every game, winning only a small hand here and there. But in EVERY game, you will end up the big loser. This is how you will repay everyone you cheated, and no matter what is in the pot, money or your dignity, you will lose.” I nodded and realized that my friends would start to take complete advantage of me, as they would soon see me losing my edge at poker, unable to win as I usually did. I was dumbfounded but found myself just nodding yes to everything.
“Now, if you break any of these or future rules, I will dump you. And I likely will. You will never see me again. This is an all-or-nothing deal. So think carefully and tell me if you accept my rules?”
I did not even hesitate. I was naked on the porch, eager to accept his offer, and in good earnest, said, “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
“Then, stand up and go inside to the rear of the house. There is a bathroom there. Shower, get all cleaned up but do not wash your dick. You will wait for me to wash that. It is mine now. You are a good kid, a beautiful good kid. I know that. You had always thought that you knew yourself. Today, you have started to learn otherwise. I know what you need. I will be there for you every step of the way. You will resist.” Harry looked up at the ceiling and mumbled, “Oh god, how I love that.” Then he looked down at me with a smile that seemed both loving and sadistic. “Just to let you know, boy, after you bathe, we will go into the living room, and I will teach you how to throat my dick. You will practice on my dick as I sit back, relax, and call a few friends to come over for dinner tonight. Try not to disturb my phone conversations by making choking noises. Later, when my guests arrive, we will all play a long poker game. The bets will not involve money.” Harry snickered. “They will be most unusual. My friends and I will have a lot of fun. You will be what you truly hunger to be, what your soul craves to be, our entertainment.” Then he looked at me with some seriousness and added, “Do you have any questions, boy?”
I was floored and unsure of so many things. I asked him the only question that came to mind, “Sir? Do I have to admit that I love to be used? And even forced into it?” Harry smiled, knowing where I was coming from and pleased to see HIS naked boy on his front porch.
“No, boy. No. You don’t have to admit it. Even after all that has happened to you today, you still have a lot of shyness. I like that very much. Trying to hold onto the tiniest bit of modesty, to protect yourself from embarrassment, is a wonderful sight for me and my friends.” He chuckled more to himself and then dismissed me with his hand. I got up, went into his house as he directed, showered, and waited for him to wash my dick. I wondered what lies ahead this evening as I looked down and saw my dick once again rock hard.
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