Dangerous Games - 2

Here's the conclusion of the story I posted on Tuesday, with another illustration by the artist Sean.

 

I’d left my home a few days early to spend some time in Kansas City before heading back to college. It was late afternoon and I figured I’d get a motel after dinner. The Windjammer hadn’t opened yet, so I trotted down to Taps which had a restaurant. I hung out after eating, but the crowd was boring. The Windjammer was open by then and I popped in for a few bourbon-and-waters (I’d graduated up from beer). It was still early and just a dozen or so locals sat around the bar. In well-worn jeans that displayed my basket nicely, a sleeveless flannel shirt and cowboy boots, I propped myself against the wall for all to see and appreciate.

 

I noticed a guy checking me out; mid 40’s, with crew-cut styled grey hair and closely cropped beard. He was comfortably reserved in faded jeans, blue T-shirt and sneakers and although he wasn’t wearing any leather or tell-tale signs which might indicate he was cruising, he possessed a self-assuredness and confidence that made him hot! He approached to start a conversation and I knew he wasn’t my type; we obviously didn’t share the same interest, but I was polite.

 

He charmed me immediately with a hearty “Hello, Mate!” spoken with a thick Australian accent. After chatting a while, I discovered he was really 54! I said my dad was a year younger and wasn’t nearly as fit! He laughed and said being a merchant sailor for most of his life kept him in shape. He regaled me with seafaring stories from Down Under and how he’d wound up living in K.C.

 

Finding out I was from out of town, he insisted I spend the night. I was having a genuinely good time with this guy, but I told him thanks; I wasn’t really interested in anything sexual…he said that was fine. I was a little miffed by his lack of interest in me; my usual cruising techniques didn’t seem to affect him…but something about those steely blue eyes pierced through me, so I accepted his offer and we drove to his place, an old converted warehouse on the river.

 

Our conversation continued in his small third floor flat, ranging from my life and school to discussing my deep-seated intrigue with the leather scene. I felt strangely comfortable with him as we sat on opposite sides of the tiny room. He poured me countless bourbons while I spewed forth a never-before-spoken litany of activities that I desired to pursue but had only read about in magazines.

 

He appeared to have no interest in leather, but listened intently to my ramblings and never once made a pass or suggested a sexual innuendo… which was kind of frustrating because I was really turned on by his physical appearance, as well as his self-confidence and down-to-earth spirit. Here was a man old enough to be my father and I’m throwin’ a rod in my jeans over him… I was even drunk enough at this point to blurt it out! He laughed and I immediately felt foolish for saying it. Sensing my embarrassment, he strode over and gave me a big hug (which didn’t help my boner any!)

 

He held my chin in his leathery palm, stared into my eyes, and said, “You’ve got a lot of learnin’ ahead of ya, son.” I melted up against him and he said, “Let’s get you to bed… ya can barely keep your eyes open.” He wrapped a powerful arm around my shoulder and guiding me to his bedroom, he helped me get undressed, chuckled when he saw I was still sporting a hardon, and left me naked on the mattress where I soon drifted off to dreamland…

 

My love for bourbon taught me two things that weekend… I talk too much, and the more I drink, the harder I sleep. I woke the next day with a dry mouth and a piss hardon. As my brain cleared the cobwebs of unconsciousness, I sensed the sun pouring through a window and heard running water. A familiar panic from the past swept over me though when I tried to rise from the bed and realized my arms and legs were tied to the four corners! Several layers of white medical adhesive tape were stretched firmly across my mouth and as I shifted my gaze, I saw my genitals bound with a piece of clothesline, my cock bouncing against my belly!

 

I struggled in vain to find the knots with my fingers and mumbled for help but the tape stubbornly adhered to my face. Steam billowed out from the bath right off the bedroom and when the shower stopped, I heard the hearty whistling of an old sea chanty. I moaned into my gag and soon heard that familiar Aussie dialect:: “Rise and shine, son! The day is wastin’ away; we got things to do!” I lay there in disbelief when a few moments later, he stepped out.

 

My eyes bulged as I saw him standing naked and dripping wet… He was built like a brick shithouse! Unlike overblown bodybuilders, every muscle was developed to just the right degree in proportion to his stature; not an ounce of fat anywhere! Racing down his expertly chiseled smooth pecs, rivulets of water clung hungrily to erect mountainous brown tits. His abdomen was an intricately detailed washboard and swinging between his meaty thighs was a perfect set of low-hanging melons that nestled a flaccid, but rather large cucumber of a dick!…he kept it all smoothly shaved. I couldn’t help admiring this seafaring old salt whose physique was created by years of hard work and strenuous labor.

 

“What’sa matter, son… too much drink last night?” I mumbled through the tape, but ignoring my pleas, he sauntered into the living room. “I’m brewin’ us up some java, matey… ya wanna cup?” He later returned with a cup of coffee and my overnight bag and as he crawled onto the bed, he positioned himself so that he sat against the headboard, his feet stretched under my arms and rested on my stomach. He sipped his coffee while cradling my head on his thigh … his cock and balls were so manly and perfect as they nuzzled against my face. I longed to taste that cock, yearning to worship this ideal man, paying homage to his years of knowledge and life experience. My lust and adoration jumbled together with confused feelings of fear and betrayal as this gentle old salt caressed my hair, rubbed his palm over my taped-up mouth and lightly played with my nipples.

 

“Careful what ya wish for, son… ya just might get it!” His statement sunk in as he pinched my tit and continued: “Things come to them that wait. On the other hand, ya gotta reach out and take what life has to offer. Me, for example… Who’da thought I’d get a chance to live out my fantasy? I’m thinkin’ these young bucks today need lessons in humility, respect and self-discipline… then Bang! … there you are … struttin’ and actin’ so special. I guess the short of it is … you were here so I reached out and took advantage! Yes sir, matey, life has a way of giving ya what ya ask for!”

 

I knew if I didn’t ask to relieve my bladder soon, I was gonna piss all over the bed! When I mumbled this, he gently pulled the tape off. I hoped he’d untie me since I asked to pee, but instead, he produced a plastic hospital urinal bottle from underneath the bed. “I knew this’d come in handy someday!” Wedging my swollen pisser inside the container, he chortled, “Fire when ready, mate!” Frustration, horniness and embarrassment prevented me from filling the urinal at first, but I eventually was able to drain my bladder.

 

Waiting for me to piss, he took a couple Drummer mags from my bag, informing me he’d gone through my stuff earlier. As he perused them, he said leather restraints and toys were unnecessary when you could make do with what was around. When I asked if he was going to untie me soon, he climbed on top, straddling my chest and said, “Ya don’t get it, do ya, son? I’m only givin’ you what ya want… what ya need! Trust me… relax and take advantage of what life is offerin’ to ya!”

 

With that, he grabbed a jockstrap off his dresser, stretched the waistband over my mouth to the back of my head, twisted it and doubled it back to the front so that the elastic stretched tightly between my teeth and his crotch sweat-scented pouch lay over my face. He untied my genitals and grabbing the urinal, disappeared to empty its contents. He returned with a towel, razor and shaving cream, cheerfully announcing, “Shaving time, son!” and whistled a little tune as he lathered up my crotch. There was nothing I could do but whimper as I watched him meticulously erase every last follicle from my groin.

 

Finishing his chore, he bathed my balls with his tongue and nuzzled my cock head with his beard. I stayed erect while he shaved me, but now he kept me on the torturous edge of cumming by chewing my tits and licking every inch of my smooth crotch … He’d always stop before I was ready to shoot and say, “Self-discipline, son!”

 

He pulled the jock from my mouth and pressed his semi-hard tool to my lips: “It’s time to show your appreciation for all your old man’s done for ya!” I savored every delicious inch of his prick as it grew in my mouth. He soon grabbed my head and moaned as he thrust his rod faster until he pulled out and shot all over my face and the headboard. Sweaty and spent, he collapsed on top of me.

 

My own cock still bouncing for relief, I meekly begged him to untie me so I could jack off. He raised his head, kissed me lightly on the lips, and with that “daddy-knows-best” smile, whispered, “Son, ya need to learn to think with your head, not your dick!” Taking the jock and wiping his cum off the headboard and my face, he stifled my pleadings by twisting it back around my mouth.

 

Before heading into the other room for a fresh cup of coffee and settling down with my mags, he tied rope around my elbow joints and snugly secured the other ends to my knee joints. He retied my balls and secured the rope to the footboard. My cock swelled up as more rope was wrapped around my shaft just below the tip and tied to the headboard so my prick stretched in the opposite direction from my bound up balls. Next, he took a length of rope and tightly mummified my shaft, knotting it securely before tying the loose ends to the bonds stretching my elbows towards my knees.

 

He checked the ropes around my limbs making sure there was plenty of circulation and, satisfied his knots were secure, the old sailor disappeared, leaving me there for the remainder of the morning to watch precum slowly ooze from my tightly constricted purple mushroom.

 

I didn’t dare squirm too much for fear of yanking on some part of my aching member… my captor’s ropesmanship was effectively efficient since every strand seemed to serve a purpose. He peeked in on me from time to time, making sure I was alright and giving me water. I dealt with a few of my fears as I began to realize how much I loved being controlled by another man… especially one who knew what he was doing like this hot sailor! My thoughts continued to wander but kept returning to the image of bathing my captor with my tongue and feeling his perfect cock in my mouth and, yes, even my ass.

 

Sometime in the early afternoon, the slam of the apartment door wakened me and I heard that familiar whistling. My Aussie was fully dressed and carried a loaded paper bag as he poked his head through the doorway. “Ya was sleepin’ so soundly, son, I didn’t wanna wake ya when I left. I stepped out to get a few things… hope ya don’t mind!” He walked over and kissed my forehead. “Looks like ya sprung a leak, mate!” referring to the pool of precum drying on my stomach.

 

He tweaked my nipples and strode into the other room, continuing his one-sided conversation., “I think I can remedy that for ya… I was readin’ about a sure-fire cure for that in one ’a those magazines ’o yours…it’s a good thing I went shoppin’ when I did!” He returned with a smaller paper sack in his hand and proceeded to strip down to the waist… the sight of that chest set my cock to bouncing in its bonds! He sucked on my nipples which were already so tender from all his earlier attention; then he blindfolded me with one of his sweat–socks.

 

“Let’s see if we can’t plug that leak!” I heard him rustle the paper sack and smelled the odor of burning sulfur. He untied the rope mummifying my cock shaft, but left the rope around my balls and cock head. I soon screamed into my gag as the first few drops of candle wax splashed onto my prick, but his soothing voice calmed my pained yelps to plaintive whimpers. Manipulating the ropes tied to my balls and cock head, he dripped layer upon layer until I sensed my gonads had become a mounded sheath of wax.

 

He removed my blindfold and said, “There, mate, ya shouldn’t have any more problems down there.” I peered down my chest and saw that the ropes bound around my cock and balls were buried under a heavy armor of red wax. My cock tip was now pointing towards my feet having been tied off at the footboard. He continued dripping the candle onto what used to be my genitals, alternating by splashing my tits as well.

 

He asked me if I’d had enough for one day and I whimpered through my gag, “Yes, sir.” A feeling of exhausted relief enveloped me as he began loosening the bonds that had restrained me for most of the day… He lay down next to me and all I could do was lie in his arms as I lightly flicked my tongue over his tits, my cock still throbbing in its waxy encasement. He slapped my ass and told me to get cleaned up.

 

I let the warm water flow over me until I was able to brush off the last remaining pieces of wax… my sore muscles returned to life with their new found freedom. My sailor was standing naked with a towel when I stepped out of the shower, but instead of letting him dry me off, I dropped to my knees and took his cock meat in my mouth. He allowed me to suck on him for a while, then stood me up and said, “There’ll be time for that later…”

 

We fixed dinner with the groceries he’d bought earlier and that night, I slept with his arms entwined around me… but not before I thanked him properly by servicing that awesome Aussie cock with my mouth and ass! I left the next day hoping I’d meet up with him again someday… I never did. And although I eventually learned how to flirt with danger in safer and more controlled settings of mutually consenting bondage, those sailor’s words have stayed with me… “Relax and take advantage of what life has to offer!”

 

Comments

[Bondokid]

Another great story. Hope to see more of those great illustrations too. Thanks Bob.
Bondokid

[Mike]

I always liked this story - never forgot it.