[For over a year, from September 1993 through December 1994 I published this incredible correspondent's memoir of his twelve year bondage relationship with Scott. I consider these stories among the best Bound & Gagged ever published. This first introduction to Scott appeared in Issue 36.]
1.
The Scott Addiction
(To the tune of “Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines)
Stiff, rock-hard Scott fucks his bound-and-gagged Marine
Up, up his ass
Down, down his throat
He fucks him all night, the male fucking machine
Huge, rock-hard Cock fucks his bound-and-gagged Marine
(or, to the tune of Rudyard Kipling’s “Savior of his Country”):
O it’s rich preppy Mike saying Scott, I’ll fuck you if…
But it’s the preppy who’s kneeling when Scott’s cock is hard and stiff.
Blue blood preppy drawls, Scott you’ve got no class
But when Scott is stiff and naked, it’s: Scott, please fuck my ass.
(We had a lot of these songs, later in the relationship. Scott particularly liked any scenes where I was fucked from arrogance to submission, and most of the songs and stories I wrote for him conveyed that theme).
Thinking back on it, I’m trying to remember exactly when (I remember where!) Scott and I first met. I haven’t seen him since July 1991, although he lives a mile from my house; I emancipated him in August 1989; I maintained him for nine years; and I knew him two years before that. So, 1 year plus 9 years plus 2 years = 12 years, so I guess Scott’s 31 or 32 now. He was 19 or 20 when we first met, one fateful Friday night.
I was 31 or 32, and heavy into using an escort service in Philadelphia. I usually had guys out once or twice a month to service me; sometimes I asked to be fucked but most of the time I was big in the macho Marine stuff, and fucked them. A few of the guys became regulars, and I would call up and ask for Dave or Randy or Steve or whoever. The guys usually picked their own name for the escort service, so Dave’s real name was something else, and Randy was really Bob, and Steve was really Kurt, and so forth. Except for Scott. Scott was Scott.
That Friday night I was very lonely and thinking of being tied up. Once before, an escort named Randy, who had been to my house a lot, had tied me up and fucked me. I was thinking about that night, and about Dave in the Marine Corps before whom I had masturbated on my knees [see Bondage Recruits, “The Corporal Performs”]. In other words, I was horny. It was after 9:00 at night, and I was pretty loaded, so when I called the escort service, I asked for someone to tie me up. He laughed, and said he had to man the phones, but there were 2 new guys on the service, both of whom had filled out their applications for being escorts as being “interested in bondage”. In the usual manner of escort services, he described both of them to me. TJ was GQ cute, he said, beautiful build, wonderful smile; Scott, he said, was shorter than the guys I usually liked to have, but his endowment was “unusual”. He didn’t lie. Later that night I found out how unusual Scott was, and GQ TJ just vanished from my life.
In the flux of excitement, I ordered both boys, the way someone orders a sandwich from the room service menu, and ordered both of them for the night. Back then, as I remember, escorts cost about $250 the night, so this was a pretty expensive investment. But the excitement and the booze and the fact that both boys were “interested in bondage” swayed me. So out they came. When they arrived, at about 10:00 or 10:30, my eyes were all over TJ, who was a real cute guy, with a highly developed social sense, humor and a lot of things going for him. I went for him at once. His companion, Scott, didn’t say anything except hello, and yes, I’d like a drink, and may I have an ashtray. He was shorter than I by 3 or 4 inches (I am six foot), he had a mustache (which I didn’t like), his looks were average, his clothes were cheap. But he was a guest in my house, and any guest in my house deserves a host’s attention and interest. So, although I was highly sexually attracted to TJ, I laid myself out to make Scott feel at home. (Later it turned out that I was his second escort date, and he was very ill at ease because of the bondage thing).
Booze helped, and soon TJ, Scott and I were on excellent terms, chatting about the other escorts, and so forth. Then finally the bondage thing came up. We had taken the show outside, and walked down the quiet little road I live on, to a house I owned which was up for rent, but no takers so far. TJ expressed a girlish desire to see the inside, so I unlocked the door, and we went in. The house had no furniture except some wooden chairs (to which I regularly tied myself), and a metal box spring (to which I also tied myself). On the floor was a mass of clothesline, and rolls of tape, stuff I used when I was rope horny and came down to this house to invent mock scenes of kidnapping, torture, bondage, etc. etc. TJ immediately became interested, but Scott seemed to back off. TJ flounced around, asking questions about who was tied up, and how long, and so forth. One thing led to the next, and it became crystal clear that TJ wanted to be tied up in the worst way. So we did.
Scott and I held him, and “assisted” TJ in removing all his clothes. We spreadeagled him on the box spring, stark naked, face up, and tied him very tight. Scott picked up some tape, and unreeling some of it, then quickly and expertly taped TJ’s mouth, all around his head. Something stirred in me as I watched this being done, and I became aware for the first time that Scott had a neat, hard body, and a particularly humpy, perky ass. I watched him as he bent over TJ, taping his mouth, and I thought about how I would fuck this guy up and through that cute, tight ass of his. “Interested in bondage,” I thought, means they want to be tied up. OK, I thought, I’ll tie this Scott guy up and fuck him hard. I should have been aware that if Scott knew how to gag someone that well, he was probably better at binding than at being bound. But I was pretty drunk.
Scott and I walked up the hill towards my house, talking about TJ. It seemed Scott lived with TJ, and found out about the escort service through him, and had signed up only two weeks before. His first time out had been with “some older guy” who had been a real asshole. That was why he was uncertain about coming out to my house this late at night. I asked him about TJ, and Scott said that “TJ was ok for the night.” The way he said it stiffened my cock, as I wanted very much to be tied up the way TJ was. After all, I was paying for entertainment; it was a little much to pay some guy to be tied up when you were the one who wanted to be tied up. But I was still into the macho Marine thing, and began thinking how soon I could get this Scott guy tied face-down on a bed. Then, one of those curious things happened which immediately change an entire relationship.
I said before that Scott was overshadowed by his more flamboyant friend, TJ, with the gorgeous looks, the body to match, and the style and wit. But now TJ was tied up, stark naked, in an empty house down the street, and I was alone with Scott, age 19 or 20, to my 31 or 32. I was still playing charming host when we came back to the main house, and I moved towards the bar. “What will you have?”
“Nothing, thanks.” Long pause. “And nothing for you, either.”
I was pouring a drink at the time when he spoke. I was suddenly aware that this guy who had been socially inept while TJ was around, now spoke with a confidence that I hadn’t suspected him of.
“Let’s go upstairs,” Scott said.
And I followed, with my heart frankly pounding in my chest so hard I was sure Scott could hear it.
We entered one of the guest bedrooms, and here I was introduced to one aspect of Scott which I grew to know very well: his disinclination to talk while a sex scene was unfolding. He went to the bed and stripped off the blankets and the sheets, and threw the pillows on the floor. He then went to a chair and sat down. All the time saying nothing. I stood uncertainly in the center of the room in front of him, and divined somehow that he was waiting for rope. So I went and got the bag I kept the bondage stuff in, and brought it in, putting it on the floor. Again, I wasn’t certain what it was I was to do. Unquestionably, however, it was not he who was to be tied up. It was I. Without being told, I stripped stark naked in front of this 19-year-old boy, who sat fully clothed in the chair. My cock was very stiff, and I knew I was going to be tied up.
Scott got up, and with a minimum of movement, had me face down on the bed. He tied my wrists behind my back, expertly, neatly, quickly, and tightly. Then he split my legs apart, tying the ankles to the bed legs, then taking a single rope, trying it to the leg above the calf, bringing it under the bed, and tying it off to the other calf, pulling it very hard, so my ass was split. Neither of us knew it then but I was to be tied up like that many, many times in the ensuing years.
Now he left the room, reappearing a few minutes later, stark naked, in a state of male erection that had to be seen to be believed. This boy had an endowment which would have been huge on someone 6 foot 8. It was not only long, it was thick, from root to head, a solid, rock-hard mass of male meat. As for his body, I’m not good at describing people, but today I saw the now-famous Marky Mark ad for Calvin Klein, and if you look at Marky, you will see Scott’s body: hard, taut, and strong, with big upper arms, and of course, that strikingly huge endowment.
Scott came to the bed, and knelt on the bed, his knees on each side of my head. He picked my head up by the hair, and inserted his huge cock into my mouth, gently, so that my mouth became accustomed to the enormous size of his fuck rod. Then, as I ate on it, he slowly, but again, very gently, forced his cock part of the way down my throat, pausing to let my throat get used to its insistent size. As he did, I felt it stiffen, as I would feel it stiffen many, many times again, as my stud Scott fucked the mouth of his soon-to-be crotch slave. He kept it in my throat until I choked and gagged on the meat, then he withdrew it. I watched in amazement as the young stud walked around the bed, his cock rock-hard stiff and jutting proudly in front of him, his perky ass bouncing up and down. The cock was so big, so solid, so long, and so thick that it was hard to believe. My mouth had tasted it; now I was in for the fuck of my life.
Scott shoved the two pillows up under my hips, stretching and spreading my ass even further open. He grabbed my cock, and pulled it down between my legs, and bounced it up and down on the bed. It was very hard.
Scott mounted my ass very, very slowly. He first greased my rock-hard erection and my ass at the same time, and as he stroked my cock, he inserted the head of his massive equipment into my ass, then quickly withdrew it. Slowly he got my ass, as he had my mouth and throat, accustomed to accepting his huge tool. Finally, he had a couple of inches up my ass. Then he stopped, and got off me.
He went into the other room, and I heard him rummaging around. He went downstairs, and finally returned with tape. (Scott always had a thing about taped mouths). He gagged me as tightly as he had gagged TJ, and I thought momentarily of TJ, still spreadeagled down the street. Then Scott mounted me again. This time he used slow, relentless, insistent pressure with his cock. The first insertion was made, and my ass took his cock head, and part of the stiff shaft. But the relentless pressure kept up. Every time I took an inch more, I expected him to withdraw, and thrust, withdraw and thrust, the usual rhythmic fucking. Scott didn’t. He was forcing my ass to take his entire massive sex tool on the first thrust by slow, endless pressure. I waited to feel his hips against my ass, but I didn’t, showing that inches of Scott’s male meat were still waiting to be buried up my ass. I writhed, and heaved in the ropes, and discovered as Scott told me later, that a spreadeagle with wrists tied behind the back is more effective than the traditional 4-corner spreadeagle. The victim’s bound and gagged trunk can be very enjoyable entertainment, as he writhes and struggles. A 4-corner bondage limits the struggle. On other guys (and, interestingly, a few times on Scott!), I have tied them down in the same way and enjoyed their heavings, moanings, and lustings in that position.
The meat kept coming, and my ass was reacting violently to it, and my mouth screaming into the tape. There was no end to Scott’s cock, it seemed, but finally his hips met my ass, and Scott had his thick, stiff meat inside me. I was his, unquestionably.
When the fucking commenced in earnest, I was in part ready for it. I had surrendered to this guy when he tied me up, he was so good at it. I surrendered again, over and over that night, while Scott fucked me. He was an artist with that cock of his. I have been fucked by a lot of guys but Scott’s fuck pole was unique. He started with rhythmic, piston-like fucking, gradually increasing the speed until he was slamming his telephone pole into my ass. Then he stopped, and let me creep down the parabola. Then he started again,slow, rhythmic, filling my ass with his huge, stiff sex tool. Over and over. He took me through resistance to lust, in which I heaved up and down on the bed, grinding my ass up into Scott’s hips, moaning and slobbering into the tape gag. Then he took me over the edge.
Scott, as I discovered later, particularly in Throne Room scenes, had what we both christened “Scott’s second erection.” Maybe I’d better explain. When I got Scott really, really hot while tied to his Throne, or when we had one of our Fuck Fights in which I pretended to resist him and ended up tied up, gagged, and fucked, Scott’s cock went through two clearly discernible stages. It seemed to happen best when one of us was tied up viciously tight. Kneeling, I would take the Speedos he was wearing off his cock using my teeth, and finally sate my crotch lust on his gigantic stiff tool. It took many times of practice to take his cock: the sight of it alone was enough to make my throat gag, and at first I didn’t experience the second erection in my mouth. But one day, when we were both erection-stiff with lust, I slowly coaxed my throat to take Scott’s meat, and for the first time felt Scott’s hugeness down my throat. He very very slowly thrust at me (when tied up, even as tightly as he was, Scott could still thrust a little) as I, kneeling, slowly and rhythmically fucked my throat. Finally we got into a good rhythm, and I felt the second erection. Scott’s cock suddenly got a little longer, and grew a little larger. It was clearly discernible in my throat which was filled to the bursting point with Scott. It was kind of like blowing a little more air into a balloon. Soon after that Scott burst, and my throat revolted from the stream, and I ended up on my knees with Scott’s cum dripping out of my mouth, and most of it shot from Scott’s cannon onto my chest. I was graciously permitted to perform on my knees in front of the still-tied-up male Stud.
Anyway, this first night was when I experienced Scott’s second erection for the first time, and it signaled a change of some kind, what I’m not sure, but I think it was the transition from male fucking machine into Scott the Sex Hunk Forces Preppy to Submit.
Scott’s the only guy who ever got me this far, because he was the only guy (except the motel sadist, about which more later), who was able to fuck my ass for any number of hours. He had a technique of cooling his cockhead if he came close to shooting; eventually his cock became so adept at holding that his erections lasted longer and longer. Scott took me beyond lust into surrender, and the only way I can describe it is by picturing yourself hanging off a cliff by your fingertips, and slowly you tire. As you tire, you start to want that free fall from the cliff, you start thinking about it, and the sea of Scott’s sperm you’re going to land in, and how you will become another man’s property. That’s what happened that first night.
Scott broke out of my ass for about 20 minutes, and when he came back, he came with TJ, whom he obviously had untied, since there was no way TJ could have untied himself, or wanted to. TJ’s beautiful body glistened as he stripped his briefs off, and prepared to fuck me. He did fuck me, but nothing special. After 10 minutes or so, he started grunting, and soon he came up my ass. Then he went into the other bedroom, and to sleep. Scott remounted my split and waiting ass, and as I felt the gigantic tool slip easily into my ass groove, I knew instinctively that something special was happening. It was Scott’s domination fuck, in which he settled into a rhythmic, thrusting routine, pounding my ass and through my ass, my mind, into submission. It was not submission through pain, though. It was submission through the hugeness and thickness of Scott’s cock, and the relentless, constant fucking. God, that guy could fuck! My struggling and writhing and Scott’s slamming into my ass made my body sweat like the Marine pig I was, and a pool of sweat gathered in the small of my back.
Later he untied me, and all 3 of us slept together. In the morning, Scott took me back to the room where I had been tied, tied me again, and fucked me for about 30 minutes. After he untied me this time, I thanked him by kneeling and sucking him off. A kind of wake-up call.
Scott became a regular at my house, coming often twice a month, usually for dinner, a little TV, and then to fuck me. He fucked me all over the house, in the basement, in the attic, in all the bedrooms, in the bathroom, in the swimming pool and once in the kitchen while I was making dinner. I slowly got to know the things he liked and didn’t like, but it wasn’t easy because Scott didn’t say much. Well, he didn’t have to. When the bedroom door closed, and I stripped for my fuck master, we didn’t need conversation. And maybe he was reluctant to tell me what he liked, seeing as how I was his regular customer, and a good tipper. So for the first year or so he was pretty reticent. Somewhere in the second year, I proposed buying him a house, and that changed things.
First he quit the service, no surprise. He didn’t want to service anybody else but me, and it gave him a kick to fuck a good-looking hung preppy guy, and have the preppy kneel in front of him. Also, I was taller than he by 3 or 4 inches; he liked the “bigger they are the harder they fall.” His strong, wiry, compact body became intensely sexy to me, and Scott accentuated his sexiness by wearing very tight Speedos, which he knew turned me on, and using his male erection in my mouth, throat and ass in a way which became addictive. It never occurred to either of us that he should move in with me, in my house. We weren’t interested in that kind of relationship. And also we both had enough sense to see that our lives were polar opposites; I liked things neat, orderly, and regular. Scott did everything at the last minute, left laundry all over the place, dishes piled up, etc. When he moved into his first house, one of my jobs as Crotch Luster was to clean up for him.
I started going regularly to Scott’s row house, which he shared with a roommate. The place was nothing special, and the two guys had very little money. I came along as a big boost to Scott’s income. We worked out our own arrangement, and I usually paid him by kneeling and putting the money in his tight jeans, stroking his legs and crotch a good amount before shoving the bills in his pocket.
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