Okay so I used to be a member (biKCboy) and just rejoined after nearly a year away. The new profile name is Hawaiian for Brad. Anyhow, It was called to my attention by a Jubber on MYSPACE that a story I wrote on here is suddenly missing the second half. So luckily I had it saved and will repost the whole thing. Springbo or whomever can delete the incomplete one. I think the last time it was bumped up was like in May of 06. Anyway, here tis. My first post as a new member once more is actually an old post. Enjoy.
The Pledge Brothers
This is pretty much my personal my story. I updated the times, because I was in college in the early to mid eighties, and I wanted it to be set in the present. I changed the names, and of course, and my bike wasn't a CBR900, as they weren't invented yet. Just modernizing the story a little. Anyway, I was so hot for this dude. It is just too bad we didn't discover this little secret years earlier. When this happened, I had actually already transferred to another college and hour away. These events occurred during the summer, before my jr year at the new school, and I had driven over to my former frat house to party. The chapter of my fraternity at the new school was...well...lame...so I went back to visit my pledge brothers. Pat suggested we go drive around and maybe go camping. SO we did. We had a swimming hole where we had often skinny dipped, but neither of us ever made a move or had acted interested. Although we were, and always had been. Sadly, neither of us had the fore for all to make an advance. I changed details and will use a little writers privilege, but pretty much this is what happened. It was actually taken from a couple different camping trips, but for the story it is combined. Also, I don't condone drug use. This was the early eighties, and I found myself caught up in some of that culture, but mostly just pot. Many of us were, and that was just part of my college experience. If that bothers you, this story may not be for you. It was a phase, one that I outgrew. Oddly enough, I later chose a career in law enforcement for several years. I think it made me a more empathetic police officer. Pat is now a very successful professional, with a beautiful wife and three children. Anyway let me know if you like it. One other note, in reality, both Pat and I were a little more willing, and a little bit of his name-calling and nasty attitude is made up for the story. It was still a hot ass time for both of us. Thanks for reading.....BiKCdude (Palakalei)
My name is Trevor Kasselman, and I am two years out of college, after having attended a Big Twelve university, here in the midwest. This is the true story of how my fraternity brother and I let our inhibitions down, during a drug induced escapade. It happened one weekend, in early September, during our junior year. From that fateful weekend, which is forever etched into my memory, our relationship would never be the same.
This story is the beginning of my reintroduction to my own bisexuality. I had always known I had an attraction to the boys, as well as the girls, but thought I had put it in my past. I had messed around with a couple of my friends in junior high, and still another dude during my sophomore year of high school; but I pretty much wrote it off as a phase, and naively thought I could get over it.
When I got to college, it dawned on me that these urges for hot jocks had not subsided, but had gotten worse. Still, I disciplined myself not to act on them, out of fear of being found out, as well as my the hope that these thoughts would just disappear. And so this was the case, emphasis on was, during the first part of my Junior year. Pat Baker would change all that, as you will soon find out.
"Hey Kasselman, we still going to the river after classes?" Pat Baker shouted across our fraternity parking lot, having just pulled in, following wrestling practice at our mid western university."Depends bro, you got weed? Or are you just planning on mooching off of me, as usual?" I replied with frustration. Pat had a habit of always showing up when my roommates and I would be leaving the frathouse to go smoke a bowl or two. He never seemed to have any, but was always more than willing to partake of the stuff that the three of us had acquired.Pat was also kind of a hypocrite, in that he would be one of the first to voice his strong disdain for any drug problem in the house, perceived or otherwise. Yet, he always seemed to been in the stairwell, to invite himself along when we'd go party.
Aside from the fact he was a freeloader and would talk shit behind your back, Pat was perhaps the hottest guy in my house. Standing five foot, ten inches tall, he had blue eyes and blonde wavy hair, just shaggy enough to reach mid ear. His lean body was cut as could be, with not one ounce of fat, and he had the lats, abs and chest that could cause you to drool, if you weren't careful. Pat was not huge, by any means, but he was muscular in a gymnast's sort of way. I don't claim to have a gaydar, as so many seem to possess, but I always figured he might be bi. I wasn't about to make a move and find out, as my luck would have it, all that would give me is a black eye. But Pat always seemed to be shirtless, whenever possible, and the shorts he wore were all too revealing, as they would be tight enough to outline his shaft and the head of his dick. I think he was aware of this, and did it just to tease people, but I don't know for sure. I do know he seldom wore underwear, and that was obvious.
Early in our pledge year, I made sure I was in the showers at the same time as Pat, just to get an 'innocent' glimpse of his naked body. We had communal showers in the house, so it was a matter of timing, and both of us had early classes, so I saw him naked plenty of times, but never allowed myself to get caught looking. His dick was a little smaller than mine, but I never had seen it hard, of course. He was your typical, loud, obnoxious jock type, and he would have no humility while soaping his cock, almost as if he wanted you to stare, and then bust you, and call you a fag if he caught you looking. This didn't happen, but you get my point.
Sometimes, he would return from wrestling practice, wearing his uniform with the top pulled down, and he would drop by our room on the way to his. He would sit and have a beer with us, or listen to music, then leave. As soon as my roomies would leave, I was always compelled to jack off, with Pat being my fantasy material. He was a cock tease, whether deliberate, or not. He had the same arrogance with girls, and had a fuck 'em and leave 'em attitude. So this gives you the mental picture of Pat Baker, frat boy and college jock.
Pat was gathering his gymbag and wrestling gear from out of the rear hatch of his Bronco. He closed up the vehicle and proceeded to walk in my direction, while I strapped my books onto the seat of my CBR900 Crotch Rocket.
I tried to be nonchalant, where Pat was concerned, lest he realize my fascination with him. And of course, as he approached, off came his shirt. "It's cool, Trev. I got shrooms...ever done em?"
"Uh...no dude, I just stick with pot. I heard that shit can fuck you up."
"I got then from J.T., he owed me money, so he gave me these, instead. He told me to blend them into strawberry dacquaris. Man, I already mixed the drinks, its in my fridge. All we have to do is blend in the shrooms, and put the drink in the cooler and we are good to go. You gonna do them with me, or are you gonna be a big pussy?" Pat shoved the baggie back into his gymbag and awaited my reply.
"I'll think about it, dude. I'm gonna be late for class." I hopped on my bike, and as I did so, Pat reached up and gave me a painful titty twister.
"Don't be a puss, Kassel. I'll be in the active room watchin' the tube when you get back. Come get me. Don't fuckin' forget, either."
Come get you, I thought. You have no idea how much I want to come get you. Fuck. I had been obsessed with Pat since our freshman year, but never had I gotten the nerve to try anything. Perhaps if the sex gods were with me?....who was I kidding, there was no chance.
I did a burnout and flew out of the parking lot, nearly missing a carload of Chi Omegas. One of the girls was nice enough to flip me off, as they skidded to a stop. I was late to class, and needless to say, I was distracted with my thoughts and fantasies all through linear algebra.
Three hours later.
"Here, its lit. Hurry and hit it." I coughed, and passed the bong over to Pat, as he drove the backroads to the river. I had to pretend that I wasn't phased by the fact Pat had his left hand down in his shorts, 'scratching' himself. The fucker was always playing with himself, no matter who was around.
"Damn, Baker. Do you have to do that? Like I want to hold the fuckin' bong after you get your crab lice and dick sweat all over it!" I feigned disgust over the situation.
Pat took a deep drag and looked over at me, all pie eyed, and smiled. "Kasselman, how bout you just check me for crabs when you are suckin on my biggo dick? You know you want too." He chided, and punched me in the arm. "Fuck you, prick. My boat don't float that direction, unlike you. Besides, I'd need tweezers to hold it and a magnifying glass to see it. I've seen you naked, bro. It ain't nothing to write home about....Tiny." Inside, I wanted to say Okay, I'll suck it, drop your shorts. But I was sure he was joking. Though the thought had crossed my mind, that he makes jokes like this a lot. Perhaps he's testing the waters. But how do I know for sure?
The dirt road narrowed and the brush was scraping up against the side of the vehicle. Judging from the weeds grown up in the middle of the dirt path, few people knew of our secret fishing and party spot. My roommate and I got stuck out there during a storm once, and barely made it out with all the mudholes in the road.
"Dude, we're here" Pat said. I had my eyes closed and was lost in Led Zeppelin's D'yer Maker, and was unaware we had been parked for a couple minutes. Pat turned off the engine, and the music stopped.
"You fuckin butcher! How can you just turn off Zeppelin, right in the middle of the song?"
"Chill," Pat said, "I can turn it back on."
"Too late dude, you just fuckin' killed it. Lets smoke this, and get shit unloaded." I said after rummaging through his glove box and finding a badly rolled joint.
"I was saving that, but okay." Pat replied, with an irritated look.
"Saving it? Saving it for what? For when you can't mooch off someone else, geez Pat. Don't be so stingy."
He handed me a clip, put on some Godsmack, and we toked on the joint. After a while his eyes lit up, "Hey Kasselman, wanna get really high?"
"Already am, man." I said, my head floating.
"Ever do a shotgun? Here, lemme show ya; dude it'll fuck you up."
Pat took the joint, and told me to get in close to him. He put the lit end of the joint in his mouth and exhaled, blowing a huge stream of smoke straight into my mouth.
Evidently some smoke was escaping, because he mumbled that I had to be closer, reached up and grabbed my head, with both hands and pulled it in closer to his. Our lips now only a couple inches apart. I was awarded with a huge, long hit, nearly choking me. Then, he pulled out the joint and claimed it was his turn, and I was to do the same for him.
Now, If I was completely straight, or if Pat was some butt-ugly dude, I would have found no sexual innuendo with what had just happened. But the fact of the matter was, it was summer, we were in a hot humid climate, sitting in a hot Ford Bronco, and high as kites. Neither one of us was wearing anything but boardshorts and flip flops. And suddenly, here I was, my lips within tongue's reach of the hottest guy in my fraternity. To make it worse, he had just grabbed me by the ears and pulled me closer,' so I could get a better hit', as if it were standard procedure.
I returned the favor, by shotgunning him a big hit, but now the joint was even smaller and our lips were only an inch apart. I could feel his warmth, and it became too much. Without warning, I began to get a boner. I was so paranoid he would see it tenting my shorts. If he did, he said nothing of it, and merely reached around to the back seat and got us a couple Buds from the cooler. I took advantage of his predisposal and used the opportunity place my beach towel on my lap, and make like I was ready to exit the vehicle. Geez, I had about fucked up royal. To make it worse, Pat stretched around to get the beers, and his muscles tensed up and shredded, already moist with perspiration. I so wanted to reach out and touch his beautiful tanned obliques and serratus.
I was hard as a rock and uncomfortable as hell, but I dared not adjust my dick, below the towel. What would he say if he found out? Would he run back to the house and tell everyone I was a fag? Or was this an opportunity for me to see where he stands? Am I blowing the situation? How could I be sure about anything?
All these thoughts raced through my head, and Pat said, "Fuck dude what's your hurry? You seem so anxious? The fish will still be there, sit back and have a beer. It's hot as fuck out there." He handed me a bottle of beer, turned up the music and started headbanging, singing along to Godsmack's "Awake."
After the song, and downing the beers, we sat a few more minutes, chatting about this and that. "Dude, I'm glad its just us out here and that T.J. had to work. Three's a crowd and its more weed and beer for us."
"Yeah, me too", I replied. "He's got a condescending attitude towards me. Especially if I'm stoned. Also, he never shuts up if he's high. Ever notice that?"
"Yeah, but neither do you, for that matter." He said, popping me in the chest. "Lets go get the camp set up."
For the next forty-five minutes, we worked, drank, and set up our camp. The sweat glistened on Pat's browned torso, as he went about his tasks. His cheeks slightly red from sunburn and the contrast of his yellow-blonde hair was stunning. He caught me standing there in deep thought, staring at him. "Hey, you supervising? Stop watching me work and get to it, Trav. We got lots to do, here."
"Umm, yeah Pat, I was just trying to remember if we packed all the food." I lied. " Did you grab the Hamburger Buns"
"Yeah its all here, but it ain't gonna do us any good with no fire. You gonna go get some wood or what?"
I already had wood I mused. I put the thoughts aside, glad I had thought quickly in my moment of lust, and began to do my part in setting up camp.
After a short while, all was done. We enjoyed another beer and a few bong hits, and cast a couple lines into the water, for catfish. I went to adjust the radio, and while I was walking back to our beach towels, Pat stood up, exclaimed how fucking hot it was, pulled off his shorts, and threw them at me, hitting me square in the head.
"Last one in is a cocksucker." He said, thinking nothing at all about his nudity. And off he dashed, diving into the river. I followed him in, and just as the water go to my knees, he yelled at me to lose my shorts. I was terrified I would get a boner, but then again, fear was usually was a pretty good deterrent to that. So I went back to the bank, took off my shorts and underwear, and made a mad dash for the river, before anything could 'come up' again.
We swam around for the better part of a half hour, and began to splash each other and roughhouse a little. I had long dismissed any sexual thoughts and all was going well. Going well, that is, until Pat swam beneath me and pulled me under by my feet. I fought, kicking him, and tried to swim away. But soon, he caught up to me. I was making for the bank, and found I was in shallow water and could touch the river's floor. Pat exploded out of the water, and immediately put me in a full nelson, pressing my back against his well-muscled pecs.
He was just playing around, and I honestly believe, to this day, he had no sexual intentions...but who knows? As he pulled me back, I could feel his flaccid penis against my ass cheeks. I struggled more, to no avail. The more I struggled the more I was aware of his dick touching me, and it didn't take long until I sprang the biggest hardon ever. Pat just kept playing, totally unaware, dragging me in this full nelson toward the shore. I tried desperately to escape. My attempts proved futile. Even though he was a good two inches shorter than I, he was somewhat more stout; not to mention the fact that he was an NCAA, Division I, wrestler.
I pushed myself backward to throw him off balance, which it did. However he only tightened his hold on me. He regained his balance, and within a few long seconds, I was only in ankle-deep water. There I stood, on the rocky, pebbled shore, in a full nelson, with a raging hardon.
Pat was suddenly aware of my 'situation', and hastily released his hold, pushing me away. "What the fuck, Travis?" He said, and I just wanted to crawl under a rock.Still I couldn't help but notice, his flaccid penis, although soft, was much bigger now, than I previously recalled. None-the-less, I was still terrified.
I expected him to fight me or something, or at least say something. But he just stood there and snarled, more in disbelief than anger. Or was he merely being enlightened, but unsure what it meant; unsure how he should react. I put on my shorts, leaving the underwear lay. He still stood there naked, shook his head, then retrieved a beer. After a long awkward silence, he walked over toward me, to get his shorts, and seeing the fear in my eyes he said "Its alright, dude. That shit happens. I've seen it happen in wrestling, sometimes. It doesn't mean anything, bro." He pulled on his shorts and went over to his fishing pole, and recast it away from.
Still, I was terrified and in fear. I was concerned this was just lip service, and that before you know it, it would be the talk at the frat house. I had never felt so dejected in my entire life. I'd have to move out of the house, and I wouldn't be able to face anyone.
For the next hour we didn't talk. We caught several small catfish and put them on the stringer. He sat on one end of the clearing and I, on the other.
"Hey Baker, you wanna pack up and head out, dude. This is pretty fucking weird." I said, breaking the long silence. "You kidding? I'm just still kinda stoned. Not real chatty at the moment. Besides we haven't tackled them dacquaris yet." Pat said, as if nothing had happened.
I didn't buy it, and yelled at him, "Dude, I ain't no fag! So you can get that out of your head right now. I was high, drunk, and I don't know why it happened, it just did." I became immediately aware of how defensive and overly-paranoid I had just sounded.
"Chill, Kasselassel!"(that was my nickname...don't ask), "I never said you were... Besides, its kinda flattering I turn you on. But then again, look at me...what's not to like?" Pat chided, as he bounced his pecs, puckered his lips, and made a kissing sound.
"You don't turn me on, dipshit. Look I'm sorry, Let's drop it, or leave."
He retorted, "Look Travis, it happens, everyone gets boners, don't sweat it. And hey if it is my dick you want, well here it is. Come get it. But seriously man, don't give it a second thought, its water under the bridge, as far as I'm concerned.
I was in so much turmoil now, trying to read between the proverbial lines. What would he do if I went over there and gave him head, right here, right now? He wasn't serious though. He was just making light, and showing me that he still had a sense of humour about everything. But then again, I couldn't help but think he may be baiting me, to see my reaction. He should have been more upset, I thought.
"How bout you give me some of that weed and I go roll us another J. We can do some more shotguns. Then we can eat and drink up our special dacquaris." Pat said, with a devilish grin, as he searched his bag for his rolling papers.
All I could think was, 'Oh shit, not again'. But surely, after what just happened, I wouldn't spring a boner again.
"Dude, we gotta bong. No need to roll em." I said, hoping he'd change his mind.
"Yeah, but you liked doing shotguns, Travis. I could tell. Anyhow, Look how much higher you can get, bro."
He could tell how? Just what did that mean? Then it dawned on me, that he knew I got a hardon when he shotgunned me earlier. No, that's stupid, I covered that up. He just likes doing shotguns, I thought, trying to convince myself. "Fine man, roll em up." I said giving in.
Pat found the papers, then grabbed me a bottle of beer, opened it and handed it to me. Then once again, knowingly or unknowingly driving me crazy, his hands went into his shorts, to adjust himself. He acted as if it was nothing, took my bag of weed and walked away to go roll.
There was so much sexual tension in the air. He had to have noticed. How could he not, after seeing me with a boner sprung at full staff.
After the joint was rolled, Pat seated himself on the beach towel, his golden skin reflecting the sunlight like a copper coin. He turned to me, lit the joint, and said, "If you want some, you better come get it."
Bad choice of words I thought, and walked over and sat next to him, on his towel.
To be continued......................................... ......
The Pledge Brothers
We sat on that sandbar, next to one another. Pat lit the joint, and repeated the same procedure as earlier. He scooted in close to me, and I was hoping I could just put everything out of my mind, all the tension, and the intimacy that the shotgun hit seemed to bring.. He gave me a long hit, and a steady steam of smoke erupted from the unlit end of the reefer. While doing so, Pat maneuvered around in front of me, and sat up on his knees. His right thigh and knee was positioned between my legs which were stretched out on his beach towel. As he straddled my leg, and blew smoke down into my mouth, I felt a tingling sensation rise up my spine. The contact of his flesh on my upper thigh was starting to cause, yet another, embarrassing reaction within my loins. I prayed for this not to happen again, but fate was not on my side.
To make it worse, after the hit, he handed me the joint, for the return hit. I took it from him, placed the lit end it in my mouth, put my hands on the ground behind me, and leaned back. I had hoped to get some distance from his mouth. In turn however, Pat put his hands on each side of my hips, and leaned over me. During that process, his knee brushed against the lower seam of my shorts. The fabric of the shorts was the only thing between his knee and my stiffening cock. I was trying desperately to blow a lot of smoke very fast, hoping he would back off and have his fill, but he just kept inhaling; his face so close to mine. I closed my eyes, but that did little to alleviate what I was feeling, nor did it relinquish any activity brewing within my boardies.
Finally, he backed off; but not before he put his left hand directly on my right thigh. His eyes were as red as cherries as he stared inquisitively into mine. He sat up straight, making no effort to move his left hand, and I just layed back onto my elbows, trying to put distance between us. I was extremely nervous and I am sure it was apparent. I had forgotten about the stiffening of my cock, when I suddenly realized, in my earlier haste, I had failed to put on my underwear. There was no shield between my shorts and my hard cock, and here I was, laying back with Pat straddling my leg. I was sporting a huge, very visible, boner that could plainly be seen, through my shorts.
I realized that Pat was no longer looking into my eyes, but instead, his attention was directed to the aforementioned boner. He just stared, and without taking his eyes off of it, he took a hit, and reached out to hand me the joint. I took it from him, and I can remember my hand was shaking, as nervous tension encased my body. I took a short hit, as Pat just continued to stare, and I put the joint in our makeshift Frisbee ashtray.
Without any warning, and catching me totally off guard, he grabbed the entire shaft of my eight inch dick, and squeezed it painfully hard, through the cotton fabric. "Damn, Kassel. You got one big ass dick when its hard. Are you always this fuckin' horny, or is it just around me?" With the rather harsh tone that he used, I was unsure how to interpret his reaction to my embarrassing circumstances.
I just stared at him with no response. He let go of my dick and gave me a quizzical look, from which I gathered he was pissed. The evening sunlight was in my eyes and his silhouette seemed ominous, sitting there straddling my leg. It was hard to make out his expressions, but then he slapped me in the nuts with the back of his hand. The effects of the marijuana only amplified the pain and paranoia.
"I asked you a question....................BRO. Are you horny for me? Because it's becoming pretty evident to me......unless you have some rational explanation for gettin' a boner around me, for the third time today." I just sat there, still unsure of a viable response. "Yeah, I saw the same rise in your panties, back in the SUV, in case you weren't aware." He remarked, beneath squinted eyes. "So, you wanna see it, up close I mean?" He suddenly jumped forward, pushed my chest to the ground and sat, straddling my stomach. He unbuttoned his shorts and pulled apart the velcro fly revealing his limp five inch dick. "Well there it is man, get a good fucking look."
Then, just as quickly, he started to get to his feet. In doing so, he came forward, grabbed his cock and slapped me across the cheek with it. Then he pulled up his shorts, and stood over me. I began to move, as if I was going to get up, when Pat put his foot on my chest and kicked me back down to a lying position. I just layed there, making no further effort to move.
"I always thought you we bi.....that is what you are right? I mean I see you with girls, I figure thats not just for show. When's the last time you sucked a dick, Kasselassel? I have no doubt, whatsoever, that you want mine. I always thought you did, but now I'm certain." He said very smugly.
Then he just walked over the the cooler, got out two big jars, and split the strawberry dacquari mix evenly, between them. After throwing the burgers on the grille, he returned, handed me a jar, and sat down next to me.
"Good thing we got that tent pitched earlier. There's no moon. It's gonna black as pitch out here before long. Hell, the nearest house is at least a mile away......Dude, did you see that fish break water? That was fucking huge!" He said pointing into the river. "Man its awesome out here, just us, the frogs and whatever wild animals are lurking about. Anyway, drink up, Trevor. Let the festivities begin." He took a big gulp of the hallucinogenic laced drink, licked his lips, and then took another smaller sip.
"Come on Trev, drink up. We need to eat before this shit kicks in. I better go turn the burgers. Hey dude, you sure got awful quiet, all the sudden. Lighten up bro.....Anyway, be right back." I slowly drank the strawberry flavored concoction, as he ran back over to the fire.
I felt as though I had just seen Robert Louis Stevenson's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, up close and personal. What the fuck? One second he's grabbing my dick, racking me, humiliating me, slapping me in the face with his cock, and then kicking me to the ground. The next minute, he's acting as if he nothing had ever happened.
At first, I thought that my hopes were correct, and that Pat was, indeed, bisexual. However, I didn't believe that to be possible at this stage. His dick was soft in the water, it was soft when he was shotgunning me, and it was definitely soft when he hit me in the face with it.
On the other hand, he seemed to instigate this whole, damned charade. Obviously, he had seen that I was hard in the Bronco, and said nothing. Than he decides to skinny dip. Perhaps he is bi. I heard that they give athletes salt peter to keep them from having sex. I wondered if that was true. The pieces of the puzzle just didn't seem to fit together. Not just yet.
We finished our Dacquaris, ate the burgers, and even had some of our fish. Our conversation went on, as if nothing had happened. After dinner we even went for a very quick swim. Pat made a comment about my shorts, I just flipped him off and left them on, while he swam naked, 'because he didn't want to get his shorts wet'. After getting out of the water, he was in no hurry to put clothes back on, either. In light of the earlier incidents, I just tried to ignore the fact he was naked and didn't look. At last he put his shorts back on, and I never thought I'd ever think this, but I was glad. I felt as though he was poking fun at me, by prancing around naked. Especially now, when he seemed aware that I had an attraction towards him.
The 'shrooms' kicked in, and we started clowning around. It seemed everything was just hilarious. We couldn't stop laughing. This went on for some while, as we smoked and drank and even tried to play cards, but our concentration level never let us finish a game.
Out of the blue, he made a remark to me, that caught me by sheer surprise. He blurted out to me that Todd Behlman, our house secretary, was gay. I told him I wasn't surprised, and that he 'acted' that way a lot. Then, he told me Todd had come on to him, during the prior school year, and that he was so drunk, he let Todd suck his dick. Up to now, he said, Todd had sucked him off like ten times. "It's great, bro....If I'm horny, go out to the bars, or can't get laid, I just go up to his room. He's willing, so what the hell."
We both busted out laughing, for no real apparent reason, which is an affect of mushrooms. But I couldn't believe my ears. Not about Todd, because that, I had suspected..but the fact that Pat would let him suck his dick. "But Kassel," he continued,"I gotta tell ya, there's no way in fuckin hell I'd go down on that dude...not my type, plus he's kind of creepy...but a BJ's a BJ in my book. Dude! He thinks I'm totally straight, and that I'm doing him a favor, by lettin him do that. He wants it. That's terribly wrong, I know it is. But hey, he propositions me, says he wants nothing back. Ya know? Anyway there has to be this high level of attraction for me to do that kind of shit with a guy. I mean, I just don't go blowin any random dude, there's standards. Know what I'm sayin'?"
I was stunned. He talked as if I knew all along, that he was bi. "What the hell, Pat? What was that little show you did earlier, making me feel so guilty, and all? Dude, that kinda pisses me off."
"Man, I have been trying to hint at you for over two years now Kassel, but I could never be positive about you. You do need to control yourself, though, because you give out a certain vibe, every now and again, and people will begin to suspect."
"Vibe, my ass! Damn bro, I been trying to throw hints your way since we met at the rush party, but I never new..not just till now, anyway." I was suddenly very horny, and under the influence of the drug, Pats body was now appeared hotter than ever to me. I wasn't sure if my perfusive sweat was from the humidity, the 'shrooms', or from his unexpected revelation of sexuality.
"Well, after you showed me your true colors, I decided I'd better come clean with you. I just couldn't earlier, didn't have the nerve. Even after you popped wood. I still wasn't sure, with all your straight acting bullshit. So here we are, dude its part of the reason I brought these 'shrooms'. I thought if there was ever a chance, I'd find out tonight. Especially on this shit, its amazing what people will blurt out."
He walked over by the fire, and put on some Pink Floyd. "My big brother used to listen to this shit...it'll trip you out."
"Oh, I's trippin' alright...So when was your first time with dude? And how do you keep from gettin a boner wrestling some hot guy?" I inquired, suddenly aware that my longtime dream was finally coming true.
"I was eleven. And I just don't think about it when I wrestle. I guess the fear of being outed keeps me in check. Also, not everyone gets hard at a drop of a hat......like some people."
We sat by the fire, squeezing oranges over the flame, watching the flames rise, listening to Comfortably Numb. Weird, huh? One of those things we discovered long ago when we were stoned. Its amazing what will fascinate someone who is high, let alone on a trip. The flames glowed on our suntanned bodies. Finally I was uninhibited, and able to just stare at Pat, and he at me, from across the campfire; able to check him out in all his splendor, no longer needing to hide my feelings. And the feeling was mutual, judging from the look in his eyes. We commented on the shadows that the flames cast on our chests, and how it looked like demons were rising from out of the fire, and consuming us. The we just danced about, and laughed uncontrollably, until our sides hurt.
We spent the better part of an hour telling our stories, amazed at how similar tour sexual backgrounds were. How both of us, at an early age, had engaged in tie up games with our friends. How we tried to put it aside in high school, only to have these same sex feelings continue to gnaw at us. In fact, our stories could not have been more alike. I even told Pat how I used to rig the deck, from time to time, so that when we played high card/low card for clothes, I would be sure to lose. This, because I liked losing more than winning, when it came to strip games and sexual servitude. But I also told him that I was a very convincing master, from time to time, and sometimes enjoyed that role.
He chuckled, saying he was just the opposite, but got into being tied up on some occasions. He preferred to be the dominant party, but was always a good sport, if he ever lost.
"So, how bout we wrestle and the loser has to be slave to the other all weekend, or for as long as he wants, anyway. Or we can play cards. But if you're wanting to lose, I'd say that unless hell freezes over, the wrestling is a sure bet you will be my bitch." He looked at me with a shit eating grin. "Hold on I will be right back." He went to the Bronco, got into the storage, and brought back a large tool box and some rope, and set them next to the tent.
"So when...umm..if I win, you gonna let me tie you up?" He asked, still unsure of my overwhelming excitement, and if I would indeed, go along with it.
"Hell yeah!" I said enthusiastically, and I'm sure that I was noticeably hard....once again.
"And I can do ANYTHING to you that I want?" Pat's right eyebrow raised, as he kicked the dirt with his barefoot, much like a bull ready to charge a matador.
"No piss, no shit, no blood...other than that...oh, and none of that fisting crap, either...other than that...anything goes. What goes around comes around Pat, just keep that in mind." I became very anxious, and was elated to see a sudden bulge in Brother Baker's shorts.
"Drink the rest of that beer and go pee. Grab the stereo, and meet me over by the bank, on that thick patch of grass." Pat picked up the tool box, and the coil of rope, and walked the fifty yards to his destination. "Bring my backpack from the tent, too!" He yelled back to me.
I had one hell of a hard hard time pissing, with such an erection, but soon, I was making my way through the blackness of the night, toward the flashlight beam off in the distance. I handed him the backpack and set the Stereo down. He reached into the pack and pulled out a bottle of baby oil, opened it and spread it all over his body, then tossed it to me.
"Oil up, Kasselman, it'll make it more fair. At least this way, there will be some semblance of a challenge for me to pin you. You really sure you wanna do this? There's no quittin once we start. Anything goes, man. We can just sit here and do whatever if you want, but I think this shit's hot as hell. I never dreamed you'd be up for this crap!"
I just smiled and put on the oil. Teasingly I pulled my waistband forward, and poured oil down my shorts, instantly leaving a wet mark. I casually walked over to Pat and flicked him in his nuts. "That's for earlier, asswipe." I said.
With that gesture, he lunged at me, and the match was on. We wrestled around, laughing and screaming, and in no time we were on the ground. The slippery oil made it difficult to keep a good hold on each other. Pat reached around and pulled my shorts up, in a crude attempt at a wedgie. I tried to do the same, but he rolled me over and was behind me. The sound of tearing fabric alerted me to the fact that my sorts were being ripped. Soon, they were tattered and laying on the ground beside us.
At some point, Pat's shorts were missing, as well....although still intact. I remember wondering if I had another pair, when I was thrown over onto my back, landing hard and winded. Pat plopped down, hard, onto my chest. Thus far, I had felt good about the fight I was putting up. I knew the inevitable outcome, but I wanted to prolong it for as long as I could. After all, he was a lettered, varsity wrestler, and I just felt good about being able to hold my own.
Suddenly, Pat's arms pinned my elbows to the ground. I bucked violently to throw him from my chest. Each time I would buck, Pat's balls hit me in the chin. I was amazed at how much bigger his dick was hard, but then again, it was a mere inches from my face.
He was relentless, and it was no holds barred. I had nearly freed myself, when he reached behind and squeezed my nuts hard. The pain put me off guard, and instantly, he was right on top of me. He maneuvered himself around, our bodies mixing in a potion of baby oil, sweat and the scent of male musk. The struggle ensued, until at last, he put me in body scissors, a very painful and questionable hold, the purpose of which, it seemed to me, was to inflict pain.
"Damn, Baker....Fuck! Is that legal?" I plead.
"Anything goes, Kassel....theres no rules out here, it just you and me! Now say Uncle, you maggot!" He squeezed me tighter, as I hesitated....."UNCLE.......SAY IT BRO!!"
The pain was unbearable, and I relinquished, surrendering to my chosen foe. "Uncle!"
Immediately the pain subsided as he loosened his hold, and let go. I just layed on the ground, breathlessly huffing and gasping for air. "You put up a hella fight, Trevor, I had no idea you had it in you." He said, breathing hard.
He got into his tool box and pulled out a bag of plummers ties, like the nylon things cops use for temporary handcuffs. "Glad I didn't throw these away, now roll over on your stomach, pussy!"
I resisted, just to make things interesting. He came over and forcibly rolled me over, and pulled my arm up behind my back. "Gimme your other arm or I will break this one. " He threatened, trying to sound very serious.
Soon he had my wrists strapped behind my back. He walked me into the river so we could get the grass and dirt off our bodies. After rinsing off we headed back to shore. Pat walked behind me, and as soon as we were back on the sandbar, he kicked me, just below my hamstrings. My knees buckled and, instantly, I was headed to the ground, Pat grabbed me under the pits, lowering me to my knees. He walked around in front of me, grabbed his rigid cock, and tapped the swollen head of his blood engorged tool on my lips.
"Before we get started here, I got something I need you to take care of, bitch. Don't think I've not noticed you looking at my crotch..you've wanted this a long ass time, Trevor. Well here it is. All yours. So suck away, buddy, and don't waste my cum either. You fucking better swallow every last drop of my spooge. Got it? Now suck on it, boy." He grabbed a handful of my medium length, dishwater blonde hair, pulling it forcefully. His other hand was on his cock, guiding it to my mouth. Again I resisted, just for the sport of it, and he pulled my hair harder. "Open the fuck up! I ain't playing with ya, here! Now suck my fucking dick, asshole. " He demanded, and, of course, I did as he asked.
His penis was the perfect size, I mused. It was only about six inches hard, but I soon found I had no problem taking his whole shaft, into my mouth. I had fantasized about this moment for two fucking years; this exact situation. Now here I was, nursing on Pat's cock like there was no tomorrow, and it tasted better than I could have ever imagined. He moved both of his hands to my ears, grasping them, and some hair, as well. As my head bobbed back and forth on his penis, I can recall the sensation of my nose being tickled by the matt of short blonde pubic hair. I giggled at the feeling, but was unable to speak.
"You think this is funny?" Pat looked down upon my scalp, from above. He began to fuck my face with an intense vigor. He grabbed my head, and at the moment his entire shaft was in my mouth, he pulled me closer still, my nose flattened by his lower abdomen. Then he would proceed to fuck my mouth from that position, each time, his cock driving deeper and deeper into my throat.."Yeah suck that cock, you faggot. Come on Kassel, be a good little cocksucker and suck it like you really mean it!"
It went on like this for what seemed like an eternity. I found myself submersed into the role of being his slave. I had never had anyone talk shit on me while engaged in sex. The more rude he was, the more turned on and aroused I became.
"Fuck yeah, you bitch, suck it all. You like my cock in your mouth don't you, you piece of shit."
His thrusts got faster and faster, until finally, he rammed it in as far as he could. I could see his muscle tense, with that final thrust, he grabbed my ears so hard, I thought he was going to tear them off. Gusher after gusher of hot, slimy cum spewed into my eager mouth, and as much as I tried to swallow it all, it was too much for me. Some of the creamy goo ran out onto my chin, and some dripped onto Pat's feet.
His look of pleasure, turned to one of feigned disapproval. "What the fuck!" He put his fist beneath my chin and jerked my head up, so that I was looking up his torso. "Fuck, Kasselman, you were doing so well, too. Now you went and spoiled it. Now, fucking lick that shit off your chin!" I complied, after which he took his finger and scooped up what I couldn't reach, then placed his finger into my open mouth. "Suck that finger, boy!" I lapped up all of Pat's nectar from his forefinger. Then, quite aggressively, he put his hand on my head and forced my head down to his feet.
"Lick that spooge off my damned feet too! In fact, keep licking till I say you can stop."
I had never done anything like this before, but I was really getting into it; mostly because it was Pat, I suppose. But in some respect, it was because I felt he had cute little feet. So I eagerly did as I was told. I lapped up all the drops of cum, and eagerly licked his feet clean, surprising, even myself.
"Alright, up ya go." He hoisted me up to my feet and flicked the head of my hard cock with his finger. "Anything goes, huh?" He looked at me and winked.
"Can I recant?" I asked with a chuckle.
"Too late for that shit. I gave you a chance, remember? Now you are all mine!" Pat smirked and knuckled me hard in my sternum. He licked along the rim of my ear, then whispered into it, "And Brother, you're in for one helluva long ass night." He pushed me in the back, up along a narrow path, to the old cottonwood tree. He taped a small stone to the end of the rope, and hurled it over a branch. He then cut the strap on my wrists, and brought my hands out in front of me. Quickly and expertly, he went about his task, tying them together with the rope, and wrapping the excess rope around my wrists, several times. Next, he pulled the other end of the rope, tightly, which jerked my arms straight up into the air and stretching my torso. Satisfied with his progress, he anchored the loose end, tying it around the tree's trunk.
My head was spinning, as the drug induced stupor continued, greatly amplifying the suspense and eroticism of my situation. Not knowing what was to come, or what plans my pledge brother had for me, made it all the more enticing. The sounds of Metallica, Enter Sandman blared from the stereo, as I hung there, arms stretched to the sky; a piece of meat, for simple pleasures and at the sexual disposal of another.
He walked up to me, his chest pressing against mine, his face so close I could feel his every breath. "This is gonna be real fun. Don't go nowhere, I'll be right back." He reached up, with one hand, and twisted my nipple, while giving my balls a light squeeze with the other. I grimaced, and my dick was hard with anticipation. He turned, walked away, and disappeared into the darkness.
This was just weird, I thought. Patrick Baker, the object of my desire for the past two years in the fraternity house, was now suddenly, and quite completely, in total control of my body. Pat had a real dominating personality anyway, let alone sexually. Many guys in the frat house kind of had him pegged as an asshole. But something about his domineering and cocky attitude always turned me on. I always thought he had an intriguing quality about him of self assurance and confidence. I always saw through the cockiness, figured it was a show, and ignored it. Now, it turns out, he had been involved in the same type of perverted crap that I was as a kid, and was obviously very turned on, when I exposed myself as a willing playmate.
What kind of idiots are we to get off on this shit, I wondered. Here I was, stark naked, strung up from a tree next to a river bank, in the blackness of the night; and in the middle of nowhere, to boot. He could just pack up and leave me to be found by some fisherman, trolling down the river. Talk about your trust element. For someone who has never experienced this kind of activity, this may be hard to believe. I never once lost a bit of my stiff erection, during the several minutes in which I awaited his return. The anticipation is all part of the game.
Pat appeared with a flashlight from around the wild shrubs and out of the darkness. He was carrying a grocery sack, which was no longer filled with groceries. Instead, he had been to the truck, and to the tent conjuring up new ideas, creating makeshift sex toys, and filling the sack with his erotic surprises for me. He was still shirtless, but now wearing jeans, and basketball shoes. It seemed to add to the whole domination/submission thing, in my mind, with him in a state of partial dress. It made me feel more into my role of subservience, and he evidently felt the same way, in that regard.
Pat had a big grin on his face. "Dude, this is unfuckingreal." He laid the sack on the ground. "Do you have any idea how long I have fantasized about this day? I have planned this for a long time, in my dreams, but never thought in a million years you'd be into this shit. Sure, I suspected you were bi, but hell, Kasselman, this is the icing on the cock..um I mean cake." he laughed.
"Have you ever been fucked?" he asked.
"Nope. I fucked my best friend from high school, one night, over at his college frat house, my freshman year. That was the last time I was with a dude. We had never done anything except a blowjob once, the summer before college. Then one night, after we returned from a rock concert, he wanted me to fuck him, and I did. I think he's paranoid, because it kind of changed our friendship and he's real distant now. But I never got fucked, myself. My friend in Jr High used to stick candles up my ass, when I was tied up, and he fucked me with those...but thats about the extent of anal stuff." I said, quickly realizing that I was giving him ideas.
"Well, Trevor, after I get done putting you through some hell here, I want to fuck you. I only fucked one dude, and that was along ass time ago, and you are hella hotter than him. So, after this is all over, I'm gonna take you back to the tent and I'm gonna fuck the hell out of that tight ass of yours. You don't have any qualms about that, do you, Brother Kassleman? Not that I really care, I'm just curious." He said, ripping up my already tattered shorts, from our wrestling challenge.
"If anyone's gonna plow my ass, I'd want it to be you, Pat. So hell yeah! I just hope this shit doesn't make it awkward between us, from now on." I said, somewhat concerned it would hurt our friendship, as it had done with my high school pal, Mike. "Pat stood up, holding a joint to my lips, allowing me to take a deep drag. He took a drag himself, blew the smoke into my mouth, then reached down and stroked my cock several times.
"You have an awesome cock, Trevor. I wish mine was as big. What's cool is, I sorta have two cocks now. Mine, and now, yours. By the way, after today, I don't ever want to hear that you are sharing this with anyone but me....Got that?" he said lightly squeezing my testicles. "I'll do the same for you. As far as this changing things between us, yeah, things are changed, alright. But it'll be a change both of us will enjoy, in the future. What's awesome is, now I can tell Todd Behlman that I'm uncomfortable with him sucking me off, and that its gotta stop. What he doesn't have to know is, is that I now have you for that.
I will expect a blowjobs on a regular basis, whenever I want it. Hell, with you, I'll even return the favor, from time to time. Just not right now. Now, we just gotta get you trained to my standards." He said with a huge smile, complete with, perfectly white, straight teeth. I about melted. The anticipation was killing me. I couldn't wait for him to fuck me, and to feel his hard, throbbing cock enter my ass, and sense his hot load shooting inside of me. But that was going to be sometime off.
Pat took another drag, offered me one, and then blindfolded me with a strip of fabric from my own shorts. Suddenly, he was on a mission, and I was the primary target. "Okay Kasselassel, its party time!"
I heard the sound of a twig snapping behind me, and then silence. After a few moments, the silence was interrupted by the sound of of air being disturbed. It was a swishing sound, which ended promptly as the switch from the willow tree connected with my exposed ass.
"Crap, dude! What's up with that shit?" I yelled, recalling the times in Jr High, when my childhood friend and I would tie each other to the post in my parent's basement, and whip each other with pieces of Hot Wheels track. The pain here was nothing in comparison to that.
"Anything goes.....this wasn't on your list of boundaries... Besides, you can consider this your punishment for not telling me for two fucking years that you wanted my cock." Another swishing sound, this time stopped by my upper back. The stinging sensation was abrupt and immediate. Despite the burn, I was aware that Pat was holding back on his strength, positive that he could strike me much harder, had he desired. In a sense, I was relieved, knowing that he was keeping this game in perspective, and not out to do real harm. None-the-less I responded.
"Oww! Dude you are just as much to blame as me...you coulda told me you were bi!"
Swish......Another strike of the willow branch hit across my stretched out six-pack, stinging somewhat more than the first two.
"Silence, maggot! Keep bitching about this, I'll lay one across that hard cock, and dude that'll fuckin hurt. I got hit in the dick once like this...it hurt for days. So suck it up. How old are you now, Kassle? Birthday's in March right........twenty?" Pat seemed to be enjoying this a little too much, I thought. Someday, I would be sure to repay him for this.
"Yeah, I'm twenty! Fuck dude, oww!" Another strike, this time to my hamstrings.
"Great....that's four....there's sixteen to go. I remember how you disappeared from the house on your birthday. I'm just giving you what's due...only this is gonna sting a little more!" Swish........snap. Number five landed squarely on my chest. "Crap, I missed. I was trying to hit your nipples." Within seconds the 6th strike hit its target and stung my right tit.
Our frat house had a tradition that on your birthday, if you were caught around the house, you could get subjected to being paddled. But that was certainly tame compared to this, and usually only happened on the 21st birthday. Pat, however used it as a good excuse to inflict his wrath.
Another blow hit the ankle, which smarted more than any of the others, and I yelped again.
"Trevor, we ain't even halfway done. Stop acting like you hate this, your dick is so hard its trying to bust out of the skin." He said, as he drug the leafless willow branch across the head of my cock, causing my blood-engorged dick to twitch, involuntarily. "See, you like it.....maybe I should lay one right across that meat of yours."
"Fuck no, Pat...Serious, bro. Please don't." I plead, genuinely concerned that he would, and also worried that, in his state of mind, and under the influence, the circumstances might prevent him from having proper judgement. Probably a valid concern, as I was still tripping enough that I was seeing shapes and movement, in the shadows around us.
"Then just suck it up and take it...and I won't. In fact, hold on; I got something here that'll keep you quiet. Pat proceeded to tie a bandanna around the back of my head, and across my mouth. The fabric stretched the corners of my lips way back, forming a makeshift gag. "There ya go Kassel....blind and speechless....perfect." Swish, snap, and one more blow, then another, and still another, to my reddened, tender ass. Finally, after twenty strikes, he said, "See that wasn't so bad, huh? Believe me, Trevor....that hurt you more than it hurt me." Then he busted out laughing. "Don't worry, ya big baby, I didn't even leave any welts. My buddy, Seth, used to lay into me when we were kids, so you just breath easy there, and be glad I was reserved."
I could hear him messing with something, and then, unexpectedly, I was inundated with the shock of water being thrown on me; though the water was relatively warm, the chill of the night air sent a shivers through my helpless body, as it became drenched from head to toe. Next, he drove two stakes into the ground, and tied my ankles to them, as far apart as the rope, that bound my outstretched arms to the tree, would allow; approximately two-feet. I felt the coldness of metal against my armpits as Pat used scissors to trim the hair, as short as he could. My chest was smooth save, save a few hairs around my nipples. Therefore, his attention was directed to my genital area, and again, I felt the coldness of metal against my skin, and now, my dick.
After meticulously trimming my body hair in close, I heard the sound of an aerosol can, then the feeling of a creamy substance lathering my armpits, nipples and crotch. I couldn't even put up the 'act' of resistance, as I was stretched out so tightly from the tree branch, to the stakes. After shaving my armpits and nipples, Pat worked his way to my cock, shaving what few hairs were on its shaft, warning me not to cum, and telling me it was in my best interest to hold very still. He then commenced to shave my balls. The sensation of being shaved down while blindfolded, was very intense, and judging from Pat's comments regarding the volume of precum present, I was very much aroused.
After ensuring my cock, balls, and ass were stripped of any remaining hair, he put down the disposable, in favor of an electric cordless. With this, he trimmed my leg and arm hairs to a mere quarter-inch, saying to me that he liked the leg hair very short, but not hairless. After a brief pause, another gush of water cascaded my already shivering body in order to 'rinse' me off, or so he said.
"Now it's time to stretch out those hot-ass balls of yours, Trevor. But since this is your first time, we're just gonna use light weight." I struggled to see what he was doing, but the blindfold was serving its purpose, very well. Pat cut a short length of small diameter rope from our minnow saining net. He tied it, rather tightly, around my balls and next to my hard shaft, looping it just above my tender nuts, several times. The result of which, caused my nuts to protrude. He let the other end of the rope drop to its full length, just about knee level, and tied it to a two and one-half pound dumbbell weight that he found in his Bronco. Seeing his handiwork, he reached up and began stroking my cock, faster and faster; the weight now swinging like a pendulum between my legs.
He must have sensed I was near climax and abruptly stopped stroking me, much to my disdain. But the next sensation, after much rustling around, was quite a shocker. Pat proceeded to shove several ice cubes, from our cooler, up my tight ass. This, followed by his finger, which was lubed with baby oil. The sensation of his finger rubbing against my prostate caused me to groan loudly, and my youthful body responded by pulling tightly against it's bonds. And just as I was getting accustomed to the incredible feeling of that stimulation, he pulled his finger out, and inserted more ice cubes. This was followed by, what I found out later to be, a large screwdriver handle. He used remaining strips of cloth from my shorts, and tied them to the metal shaft of the screwdriver, securing it, by tying the fabric around my thighs. This held the plastic handle in my ass, as a makeshift butplugg, trapping the cold water inside.
But he was far from finished with me. He took another ice cube and teased my body with it, rubbing my ears, my hard nipples and abs. I attempted to laugh beneath my gag, as the cold melting ice tickled me in a way I had never experienced. When one cube would melt, he would simply get another, continuing his 'ice torture,' as he called it. With a handful of ice cubes, he grasped my sensitive, swollen nuts, as they were being stretched out by his dumbbell weight, sending an incredible almost electric sensation up my spine. He then discarded all but a couple of the cubes, and stroked my rigid shaft and began to caress the sensitive head. The heat of my cock quickly melted the ice, and he simply replaced it with more. Rubbing my thighs and calves, the cold, tickling feeling continued. He ended his icy fun, by dumping a large mound of ice on each of my feet. It put a new meaning to having cold feet, that was for sure.
I began to smell the sweet aroma of marijuana, once again, as Pat relit the tiny roach of our last joint. After he finished, he took the roach clip and attached to my left nipple, thoughtfully putting a leaf in it for padding against the sharp teeth. He found a clothespin in his tackle box for my other nipple, and after attaching it to me, began to tug on it playfully.
His fun was distracted by something blowing around in the gentle wind. Leaving my shaven, naked body, hanging there, Pat went to investigate. My eyes were hidden behind the blindfold, and therefore, I was unaware of the huge satanic grin that appeared on Pat's face, and the diabolical look of joy as he reached for the object. Bending over, next to the stereo, Pat picked up the blue jay's feather that had been carried by the summer breeze.
Once again, Pat approached my splayed out, bondaged body. He ran his fingernail up my sides, and was clutching the blue, white, and grey feather, with his other hand.
"Wanna hear something funny, Kasselman?"
The Pledge Brothers
A chill ran up and down my spine, as Patrick drug the fingernails of his right hand, down my side and over my sweat soaked ribs and body. Muscles tensed from the sensation, my back arched up pulling against the ropes, which bound arms and feet. My whole body glistened with the moisture, which was beading on my flesh, from the humid summer night air. My feet were now planted in puddles of mud, as the ice Pat had dumped on them, was quickly melting. My toes dug into the fresh cold mud, in response to his claws scratching against my tanned skin.
Blindfolded and gagged, I could only ponder what he had in store for me. I was lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, slightly paranoid from the drugs, and yet excited about the mystery of what was happening. Just then, I was rudely startled from my mind's wandering, as I felt sudden tugging, and slightly painful feeling on my tender balls. Pat pulled the dumbbell weight high into the air and let go, allowing it to swing like a pendulum, between my outstretched legs. The rope noosed around my nuts even tighter and now, they were even more sensitive. Pat lightly slapped them with the palm of his hand, and I clenched my jaws into my gag, fully aware of his complete and unchallenged control of my helpless body. I bit into the gag like a horse on a bit, tightening my teeth into the fabric as I struggled with the mixture of pleasure and pain. He must have sensed I was near the end of my comfort zone, as he began to ease up. The weight stopped swinging, and all went deathly quiet.
I heard nothing for the next couple minutes. My ears were strained, fruitlessly, to hear what he was up to. Suddenly I felt something lightly brush my vulnerable balls, tickling them, but just lightly. Then the sensation went to the crack of my ass, causing yet another involuntary response. My sphincter tightened up around the head of the screwdriver, which was so skillfully tied, holding it in place, as a makeshift butt plug. A feeling of intense stimulation occurred to my prostate, like I had never experienced before, as the plastic handle rubbed up against my g-spot. My butt cheeks flexed, as the bird's feather was dragged between them. My hard dick leaked with pre-cum, begging for some attention, but to my dismay, it was left untended to, and the clear liquid continued to seep from the tiny hold.
"Damn Kassleman, you are a little fag boy ain't ya'? You really seem to enjoy being my bitch here. It's gonna feel awful damn good when I slide my dick up that ass of yours. I'm gonna de-virginize that hole, mother-fucker, and you won't be able to walk straight for a fucking month. I'm gonna fuck you damned hard bro, so you better hope you like it that way." Pat said smuggly and with mock animosity.
"As for now, I wanna hear you beg. Hell, there's no one else out here, so I may as well let you plea out loud." Pat cut the gag from my mouth, letting the fabric fall to the ground beneath my legs. As I began to say something, he squeezed the roach clip that was attached on my nipple, bringing forth a very loud "Ouch!"
"Shut the fuck up, Puss! All I want to hear from you is sounds of joy, and laughter."
Before I had a chance to reply, he began to tickle me with the bluejay's feather. First, he tickled me under the arms, then on my sides and belly. He was relentless in his torture as I bellowed with laughter. If anyone was on the river, they could have heard me for sure. He ran the feather down my inner thighs and on the arches of my feet, covering every inch of my body, save for my newly shaven penis. My sides ached from all the laughing, and the ropes securing my arms and feet dug into the flesh, as my writhing body pulled against its bondage. As soon as I thought he was letting up, he would get a second wind, and go for more.
After what seemed to be an eternity, he knelt before me and blew his warm breath on my rigid cock. At the same time, I felt a tugging on my balls, while he removed the weight and unwound the rope encircling my swollen nuts. The relief was unbelievable, for it felt as if my balls had been stretched to the knees.
Once again, he picked up the feather. This time, though, he ran it up and down my shaft, which had been oozing a continuous stream of pre-cum. In the background, AC/DC was blaring from the stereo with Back in Black, and my cock throbbed while Pat circled the head with the feather, then continued to move it up and down on the rod. I felt as if my dick were going to explode, when Pat, unexpectedly, grabbed my shaft and squeezed it hard, milking a large amount of pre-cum from the slit.
Scooping the gooey mess up on his finger, he stood up, grabbed my jaw, forcing it open and without warning pushed his finger into my mouth. "There bitch, suck that juice off my finger…..you just can't get enough of that can you, boy?" I complied, and licked my own pre-cum from my fraternity brother's finger, savoring it's salty flavor.
"One more thing here, Trevor, then I'm gonna sink my boner deep into your ass. I decided I'm gonna fuck you right here, instead of in the tent. Then, if you are a good fuck, maybe I will untie you and let you sleep in the tent with me. Then again, maybe I will let you stay like this all night, and let my cum drip out of your asshole onto the ground between your legs. It's up to you. If you make me happy, and beg for it like a nice bitch, you sleep in comfort." I heard him walk away, despite the music, but did not hear him when he returned.
The piercing feeling of high-pressure water on the flesh of my cock, was the next thing to shock to my heightened senses. The water dug into my cock with each trigger pull. Pat had a spray bottle, water mixed with baby oil, with which he misted himself for sunbathing. But he set the nozzle, not on mist, but on stream. Holding the bottle merely an inch from my dick, he pulled the trigger, over and over; the sensation of which, was unreal. I think that if had he kept it up, I could have cum, just from the water pressure alone. But it was when he got to the head of my penis, that the sensation had became unbearable. The water welted the purple head, the feeling was a mixture of a tickling, and the feeling of pins digging into the flesh. My cock started to throb, a tell-tale sign I was near an orgasm. Pat stopped the 'punishment', instantly. He then removed the roach clip and clothespin from my nipples, and sprayed the sensitive nipples down in the same fashion, causing me to shake, involuntarily. Then on to the abs, which served, once again, to produce laughter, from the tickling feeling. Adjusting the nozzle to spray, Pat commenced to mist down my entire body with the baby oil/water mixture. Walking around behind me, he opened the bottle and poured the remainder of the mixture down the crack, between my glutes.
I felt a pulling on my thighs, while Pat removed the fabric strips, that were all that remained of my shorts, freeing the screwdriver. He took hold of the Screwdiver's shaft, and relentlessly began to fuck my ass with the handle, evoking groan after groan, from my tiring mouth.
"Alright Trevor, you know what I want to hear. Now say it!" Pat demanded. "Your asshole is as primed as it gonna get, beg for it bitch, make me want to give you my cock."
Feeling somewhat weird about it, I relented, and started to yell out what he wanted to hear. "Fuck me, Pat….Please fuck my ass…I want your cock in my ass…Please, Pat…" And finally, "Just fuck me, already, dude" I had pleaded over and over, as Pat continued with his beckoning and taunts. Finally, he must have been satisfied with my pleas. My arms abruptly fell from above, and down in front of me, and I nearly racked myself with my bound fists. Pat had taken the filet knife and cut the rope, which strung them up to the tree branch.
My legs, feet apart, were still bound to the stakes. Movement was not an option, as he cut the rope binding my hands together. "Touch your cock, and we start all over again, pretty boy! Now, cross your arms over your chest and place your palms flat against your shoulders." Pat instructed, and I did as he asked, without comment or hesitation. He, evidently, had removed the Siran-Wrap from the food cooler and had it handy, as well. The next thing I knew, I felt the palm of his hand holding plastic on the middle of my forearms, which were crossed over my chest. He wrapped the plastic around my torso and arms several times, securing them firmly against my own flesh. Next, he removed my blindfold, and walked around in front of me, flashing me an evil grin.
I had a hard time balancing, with my legs tied apart, and my hands, now firmly on my front delts, but that was not to be an issue for long. Pat kicked off his high top sneakers, and began to unbutton the fly of his jeans. His jeans dropped to the ground and he stepped out of them, not once taking his eyes off of mine. He was just as hard as I was, in anticipation of his reward. He walked over to the tackle box, got the KY Jelly, and began to stroke it onto his six-inch shaft. Picking up his jeans, he wadded them into a pillow, of sorts, and placed them back on the ground, about three feet in front of me.
"See, Trev, I ain't heartless, I'm gonna let you plant your face right in the ass of my jeans while I plow you from behind. That is what you want, isn't it?"
"Sure, Pat, just get on with it, and fuck my ass, okay? You want it just as much as I'm ready to to let you have it." He squeezed my tender nipple, making me wince.
"Don't get lippy, bro, I just wanna hear how bad you want it. And you ain't letting me have nothing....I'm taking it!"
Ironically, AC/DC was now playing Givin' the Dog a Bone. Pat walked up and slapped me in the abs, slightly knocking the wind out of me, then he instructed me to get on my knees, as he helped me down. My toes dug into mud, pulling against the stakes, and soon I was on my knees, with Patrick standing, nude, just behind me, feet between mine. He clenched a fist onto my medium length hair, and pushed my head down to the ground, resting my nose in his jeans. With a sudden jerk, he pulled the screwdriver from my butt, and I let out a gasp. I felt his hard warm cock wedging itself between my ass cheeks, and his hips began to, instinctively, rock back and forth. I could feel the glans of his penis begin to poke against my moistened hole, when suddenly he took hold of his cock, and with one quick, stabbing motion he entered me full force, crushing my face into his jeans.
"Fuck yeah!" He said as I grimmaced, adjusting to the feeling of having his cock in my ass. "I'm glad you saved yourself for me, Kassleman. Now tell me how you have always wanted this, you faggot!" He yelled as he continued to thrust his hips, with a hard driving motion, deep into my ass. His lean pelvis bounced off of my butt cheeks, with a repetition that was gradually getting faster and harder, and more intense. One fist was still clenching my hair, keeping my face firmly in his jeans, while the other hand began to fondle my swollen nuts and occasionally stroke my penis. "C'mon, Bitch, Beg me for it!"
"Hell yeah, Pat….ugh..ugh….uhh….Fuck that ass, Pat. Dude, errgg, I've wanted this for so long...umpf! Fuck me, dude!"
He banged me even harder, muffling my voice into his pants. I could feel his testicles slap against my buns with each powerful thrust, and then, with one final thrust, my face was mashed into the ground, and Pat announced, loudly, that he was cumming, shooting his creamy load, deep into my wanting asshole. I could feel the slimmy goo, around his shaft, and down my crack, as his cock began to soften inside of me. This was the first and only time I have ever been barebacked, but I would not have traded that moment for the world.
Pat remained inside of me, but now leaned over, pressing his warm muscular chest against my back. He released my head and began to stoke my cock. He put his other arm around my chest and instructed me to sit up. As I did so, I could feel his cock begin to get somewhat rigid, once more. It began to swell inside of me, and as it grew, I could feel it expandind inside my rectum. Both of us on our knees, Pat began to stroke my cock at a faster pace, and my balls began to tighten. After hours of this intense play, and being deprived of sexual release, it didn't take much. My body shuddered, and I tensed up. Pat stroked my dick faster still, and the end result, a gusher of cum spewed out of my dick, onto my abs, onto the Siran Wrap covering my chest, and all over Pats hand. To this day, I don't recall ever having shot a load that huge.
Pat brought his hand up to my face, and without being told, I opened up my mouth as he, literally poured my own spunk from the palm of his hand, onto my tongue. After swallowing the initial load, he offered me his hand, and I eagerly licked it clean. Once again, he began to pump my ass, in this upright position, allowing him to thrust deeper than he had before. His first load acted as the perfect lube as his thrusts, once again, began to pick up pace. He wrapped his arms tightly around my chest and arms, and within minutes was shooting his second load up my ass. It was the most intense thing I had ever felt; losing my anal virginity, his cum in my ass, and then the sensation of him getting hard once again, only to shoot a second load.
Pat pulled his cum-soaked dick out of me, and started to remove the plastic wrap, freeing my hands and arms. Once my arms were free, I grabbed his pants, threw them forward, and laid down, in the dirt, on my belly. I rested my head on the denim pillow, while Pat worked at untying the tight knots, holding my feet to the stakes. Once my legs were free, I remained on my belly, and Pat positioned himself on top of me, his now soft dick, once again, laid upon my ass. He put his head around the side of mine and began to lick my ears, then he tenderly kissed my right cheek, and rolled me over. Up to that point, kissing was not really something I was accustomed to with guys. This, however, felt right. Again, he laid down on top of me, mashing our penises together , and the mixture of my cum and the dirt on my belly, was of no concern to him, as it was transferred to his own chiseled stomach. We just lay there, under the night sky, kissing and cuddling for what seemed a long time. After a while, basking in each others warmth and sorting through our new emotions, we felt raindrops falling onto our bodies, and decided it was time we head to the tent.
We reluctanly got up, decided to take a quick dip in the river to clean up, and picked up as much of our things as we could. Lugging our supplies along with us, we headed for our campsite. Once we arrived at the tent, the rain had become steady, and the hint of morning light was just below the horizon. Knowing we were on an off road, and that it would get muddy, we debated on leaving, and heading back to the frat house. After some thought, we figured the The Bonco was a 4 x 4, and since we were still in a drug induced state, we should take our chances with the impending storm, and stay. We ran for the Bronco, put some of our supplies inside, and grabbed a couple towels and ran back to the tent.
Just as we closed the tent flaps, there was a loud clap of thunder, and the storm had became a torrential downpour. We were both exhausted, so after we dried off we sat on the sleeping bags, passed a joint around, then cuddled nude, and in each others arms. Pat reached over, and shut off the battery powered, flourescent light. We closed our eyes, enjoying the warmth of each other's body, our friendship now on another level. The rythmn of the rain on the tent's canvas, soon put us into a deep slumber, Pat spooning me as we slept.
The storm had lasted all morning, and into the early afternoon. The weather was of no matter to us, as we were still sound asleep, crashed from all the beer and substances that we had ingested. When we finally woke up, it was 3 P.M., on Saturday, and the sun had just peeked out from beneath the clouds. We got up, neither of us bothering to don clothes, ate a quick meal, and decided to go for a swim. There was a small island in the middle of the river and it was decided we would race to the island and back, across the swift current, (thanks to the morning's rains).
"Wanna wager on the race?" Pat questioned, with a stupid smile.
"What kind of wager are you thinking?" I asked, already knowing where this was going.
"I was thinking something like we did last night!" Pat said with the arrogant confidence he always posessed, believing he was, unquestionably, the superior athlete.
"Anything goes?" I said as I prepared to dive back into the water, my eyebrow raised in excitement. I noticed Pat was getting somewhat hard, and seeing that, I began to get a rise, myself.
"Yup!. Anything goes."
"You're on, Sucker!" I said diving into the water.
We remained at our remote and secluded site on the river through that Sunday night. And, of course, there were other campouts, over the next couple years. Pat moved out of the fraternity house at semester's end, and signed a lease on a rental house. He had two roommates, (a couple other guys from the frat house); but when they were out of town, our diabolic and kinky games would continue there, as well.
For me, this whole thing was like a dream come true. Never, have I been with a hotter guy; one with whom I could share so much of my fantasy life, and yet have a "normal" friendship, at the same time. I miss those days, and still think of them very often. Since my college days, Pat has been the fuel for many of my late night fantasies.
Oh, in case you were curious about the race to and from the island,……………I won by two full body lengths.