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Extract "Chaining Chad"

Heather McVey 2007

     Suddenly, the slow but purposeful “tip tap” of heavy footsteps approaching where I lay drowned out the drone of even my thumping heart. The whole time, I’d been lying there flexing and grunting against my captive bonds, someone had been standing quietly in the shadowy corner watching my pathetic struggles. And although I was petrified by just who and what that nameless someone was capable of doing to me, I couldn’t help but be turned-on at the very notion.

     That was when it hit me that I liked being watched. I liked it a lot.

     The confident footsteps approached the left side of the foul mattress and I strained my neck to hear more.

     “My you’re a bad, bad little boy aren’t you?” A deep male voice which was somehow familiar hissed in my face startling me. “Look at you. I haven’t even stroked you and your dick is all hard and standing to attention begging for my touch. It sickens me that you want me so much.” He reached out and grabbed a handful of my abundant pale curls. “You have no idea how much it sickens me, Golden Boy.”

     “I’m sorry,” I gushed and recoiled.

     “Huh!” He snapped back. “I don’t believe that you are sorry enough, boy.”

     “I am, honestly, I am.” I whined not quite sure exactly what I should be sorry for. My cock which moments ago had been engorged somewhat with expectancy had never been smaller. Beneath the gauzy shimmer of my white boxer shorts, my manhood continued to shrink pitifully to its adolescent size. I really feared that I was about to piss in my pants.

     I heard a mocking laugh, and then there was the distinctive sound of a key being placed in a lock, and I heard the sharp whish of a well oiled door opening. In the next second, I felt a welcome rush of fresh, cold air from the rooms outside the confines of my dark prison mingling with the stifling air inside and hundreds of minute goose-pimples in response broke out all over my arms and naked thighs.

     My balls throbbed, and I fought down another hard-on. I was at another man’s mercy. A man who was no doubt some psychotic manic, the whole situation shouldn’t be turning me on. Damn it, I thought gashing my teeth together until my jaw actually ached. The situation wasn’t turning me on, it wasn’t.

     Yeah right, my inner voice such a smartarse, but usually right on screamed, and I’m you’re fucking Fairy Godmother , Chad .

     “Oh, please, I insist don’t get up.” the deep masculine voice spoke almost friendly as I pushed myself up onto my elbows.

     “Let me go.” I begged over the tinkling of the chains, hating myself for it, yet unable to do anything else. “Please, just let me go.”

     “No,” my captive barked. “You’re not going anywhere, Golden Boy that is not until I’ve finished with you. That is not until I’ve had my fun with that tight, little ass of yours.”

     “But…” I protested, wanting, no needing suddenly to reason with the maniac who despite the fact that I couldn’t see him gave off the impression that he was larger than life.

     “Buts, I will hear no buts. Do you understand?” he hissed, and just as before, petrified like a little frightened mouse, I recoiled.

     “Good boy, you’re learning.” the voice said approvingly. “Still, I think you’ve got the look about you of one who might try to escape at the first opportunity. I’d better make sure that you stay nice and quiet. After all we don’t want any uninvited guests bursting in and ruining our little private party, now do we?”

     Swallowing over the dry lump in my throat, I choked. “That’s right, w...we don’t want that.”

     “Mmmm,” he agreed. “I like that you and I are finally seeing things on the same wave level. Maybe I don’t have to punish you as much as I first thought, hmmm?”

     “Y, Y, You don’t need to punish me, I’ll be a good boy.” I promised, my voice breaking like a teenage quire boys voice yet to break.

     “Will you now?” He laughed.

     I nodded frantically.

     “Then in that case lets just see exactly what you’ve got to play with.” he said.

     I stiffened as my boxer shorts were suddenly tugged brutally down over my thighs. “Oh, God, don’t rape me. ” I cried as I felt the silken material slip away over my feet.

     He laughed again. “You’d do better to get used to the fact that I’m going to do what I want to you and that sexy young body of yours when and just how I want, Golden Boy.”

     My heart racing, through my blindfold I could make out the outline of a bulky, masculine shadow move. I felt someone crouching over me. A gag was stuffed brutally into my mouth, and choking I caught a whiff of scent from the cloth, quite musky and yet somehow familiar. As it hit me that he had rammed my boxer shorts into my mouth, I was left more confused than ever. I couldn’t decide if having my pants in my mouth repulsed or excited me.

     “Just do as I say, boy, and you won’t come to any real harm. Do as I say and I won’t hurt you more than I have to,” the voice commanded, and all thoughts of my underwear were instantly forgotten. “Now lets get started, shall we?” he chimed agreeably.

     My mind had just registered the curiously thrilling fact that I was now totally at the mercy of another man when I felt him shift position and straddle me. He was wearing something skin-tight and slippery, something like a wetsuit perhaps. The warmth of his muscular legs enveloping mine contrasted starkly with the goose-bumps still prickling along my naked body. I felt his weight pressing me down against the thin, mattress, and I realized that I was trapped.

     It didn’t occur to me to struggle, for I figured, chained as I was that it would be naught but a waste of my energy.

     “Oh, but I do like the way your shrivelled dick rests just so against your yellow pubic curls, Golden Boy.” he said, and I shivered as he scratched his surprisingly sharp nails along the underside of my balls. “Tell me, are you frightened?”

     Unable to speak because of my boxer shorts gagging my mouth, I nodded.

     “Good,” he purred. “You should be afraid, very, very afraid, bitch.”

     His fingers fell away from my genitals, and wondering just what he was going to do next, I strained my eyes to see if I could make out any of his facial features, but my efforts were in vain for I couldn’t. The man straddling me, the man whose mercy I was completely at could be anyone, my best friend, chemistry lecturer, or a complete stranger. I hated the fact that he was as hidden from my gaze as I was blatantly exposed to his.

Heather McVey  | Heather@heathermcvey.de