Chris' Experiences
Written by Anuttymous, a.k.a. Nathan
Written for Chris himself.
All rules and laws and whatever else you can think of apply. This is just fiction - please use protection whenever and wherever you are. Enjoy the story!
With special thanks to many people for the ideas used in this chapter.
Apologies for the long wait. I'll try to make it up to you, by turning all your great ideas into stories.
Once my eyes have dried, I stand up and face the table. I pick up the tweezers. I submit to hours of pain.
I look down my tiger-stripe body at my red, raw, hairless pubic patch. The rest of me is hairless too, except my head. I've spent the last few hours individually pulling each hair on my body out, with only a pair of tweezers. I started with my arms, but wished I hadn't, as they became numb, and holding the tweezers became harder than it should have been. Once my arms had been stripped, I went to my legs, and plucked from my feet up, enduring the pain all the way. I reached my upper thighs when things really started to hurt. Once I'd finished my legs and thighs, I sat hesitating around my groin for a long time, until I realised I was getting nowhere. My balls were the worst part. I was cringing in pain, tears flowing freely by the end.
Now, I'm left with no hair anywhere, and still have to stick some plug up my ass. Finding no lube, I decide to use spit to get my ass open, and suck my finger nice and wet, then slowly slide it into my hole. It slips past my sphincter and I get it in all the way to the knuckle. I pull it out, then push it back in a few more times, then with my other hand I pick up the plug and slick that with spit, by sticking it in my mouth and coating it in saliva. I suck on the plug until it's nicely covered in spit, then bring it down to my ass, where my finger is still pumping in and out. I pull my finger out, then push the plug up against my hole, pressing hard to get it in. I begin to feel it go in, as it stretches my ass, but without proper lube, it starts to get painful. The more it hurts, the harder I push, until, with a load cry, it pops past my sphincter.
Almost the instant it's in, I hear the door unlock and open, and Sean stands there, grinning sadistically. I would run at him and attack him, but I have no strength left in me.
"Here," he says tossing my tiger-style jockstrap, tail and ears at me, "Get them on, and then we can go out." I don't have the strength to argue, so I comply, and pull on the jockstrap and ears, then attach the tail to my current buttplug. Sean takes me out the door sluggishly, leading me by the arm. He takes me outside, and we get in a car, with the two men who abused me earlier in the front.
"Go, Mac." Sean says to the guy in the driver's seat, and the guy called Mac begins driving us. I fidget the whole ride, as every little bump causes the plug in my ass to jostle and send jolts through me. The journey lasts 5 or so minutes, and when I look out the window I see we've arrived at some kind of backstreet studio-type place. Sean gets out, then opens my door for me, as though his being gentlemanly will make up for my hairlessness. Sean drags me inside the studio and through many doors in the large building, up a flight of stairs, through more doors and eventually into a large open room.
The room is mostly empty, reminding me of the room Sean locked me in, but there are lots of windows and air in here. The only doors are the double doors we went through, and the windows are floor-to-ceiling, covering a whole wall. The windows open onto the street below, which is a fairly busy-looking high street. There are canvases about the room, at least a couple dozen, each with their own set of brushes and paints. There's a large rolled up canvas at the top of the window on the outside, and a piece of string dangles in through the window from it.
But none of these things attract my attention. What immediately drags my eyes from all else are the only two other people in the room besides Sean and his goons. They're in the centre of the room, on a podium. Both are male, about my age. Their bodies are entwined in such a way that there must be much strain on them. Both are entirely naked, except for blindfolds, and one has a cloth tied round his mouth stopping him speaking. The other has no need of a cloth, as his mouth is full with the dick of the gagged one. His mouth is all the way down to the hairless pubic patch. Both, I realise, are hairless, like me. Their legs are wrapped round one another, yet somehow still standing.
Neither Rob, unable to see or speak, nor Matt, with a cock down his throat, know I'm here.
Before I can even say anything to them, a cloth is wrapped round my own mouth, and I can't do anything but muffle curses.
"They've been waiting for you for quite a while," Sean says, dragging me, with the help of his goons, over to my friends' entwined bodies, "Time to add you to the masterpiece. Mac. Paul. Come on." The two goons grab my body, and I'm manhandled into a bent over position. Sean carefully pulls out my tail, and they pick me up like this, and carry me, helpless, over to Matt's exposed cock, straining hard out from his body. They lower me down, and just as I realise what's going to happen, I feel Matt's cock pressing against my hole. I yell out my protest into my gag, but get no response. I wiggle and yank from the arms holding me, but they're too tight. Matt's cock slides in, painfully with no lube, all the way in to the bald pubic line. My arms are yanked behind me, and tied together, and then one of my legs are wrapped round one of Matt's. Sean comes over and bends down to my face,
"You are living art now. Don't move a muscle. If I see just one twitch, or hear a slight cough, you will never forget this day." he warns, then moves back and places a piece of cloth he's picked up over my head, so that I can just about see through, but no one can see me. I daren't move in case I upset Sean.
Through the cloth I see Sean walk over to the hanging piece of string and yank it, causing the rolled up canvas outside to unfurl, revealing a sign that says "ART EXPOSÉ" backwards from this side. As he does that, multiple people outside look up and into the room, seeing me, Matt and Rob, staying as still as we can in such circumstances. My cheeks flush red at being seen by so many people like this, but that's hidden by the cloth.
Soon after, many people walk into the room, and begin looking at us. I can see Sean greeting them and taking them up to the canvases, presumably telling them to draw us. The room begins to steadily fill with people, until there are more people inside the room than on the street below. The room is beginning to get very packed, with only just enough space for those lucky enough to nab a canvas to paint the art before them.
My cheeks are burning red, but invisible under the cloth, and I can feel my boner in my jockstrap, provoked by having a dick in my ass, begin to subside. I can also feel Matt's cock beginning to shrink, so decide with nothing else to do, I clench my cheeks, causing his dick to swell again. Some of the people viewing us have children, who run up to the podium trying to reach our naked bodies. The two guys who were with Sean are now standing by the podium, to ward off children and other people who get too close. Most of the viewers are more interested in my tiger-print body, which causes more discomfort and embarrassment on my behalf.
The viewing goes on for almost 2 hours, the whole time I have to stay standing bent over, with my hands painfully stretched behind my back, my leg wrapped around Matt's and his cock up my ass, without moving at all. By the end of the two hours, I feel like I'm going to collapse, but luckily Sean begins ushering people out, slowly. He lets the stragglers on the canvases finish, before closing the doors. I think he'll come over and let us down, but he pulls out a phone and begins talking to someone. I can't hear from where I am, with the cloth over my head and more than enough things to worry about, but when Sean finishes, he just waits, leaving me where I am, still straining, in pain.
About 5 minutes later, someone new enters. They look very sophisticated and are carrying their own canvas and paint kit. When they get closer I notice it's a woman, presumably a professional painter. She gets about 5 metres from the podium, then stops, moves a canvas already there, and sets up her own. Sean comes over to her and tells her she can rearrange the model as she likes, as it won't move from her adjusted position. She then walks over to us, and walks 360 degrees round us. After a moment of contemplation, she walks up to Rob and bends him backwards slightly, pushing his ass forward, so that his pelvis thrusts into Matt's face. I feel his cock surge at this, and know the cock in his mouth has just forced its way further down his throat. She then moves Matt's ass forward, so that his cock is pushed deeper into me, and then finally she grasps my shoulders and lifts me up, so that I'm almost standing straight. Then she walks back over to her canvas, and begins her work.
She takes a long time, first tracing with a pencil, with much erasing and restarting. When she finally gets to the paints I feel as though my legs are going to collapse if not for the threat Sean promised. She paints slowly and deliberately, a true professional. After at least another hour, she steps back, looks from the canvas to us, then back again. She calls Sean over and asks his opinion. He applauds her, calling her a genius and saying he'll give her a nice tip for this one. They both walk back to the doors, and with an exchange of, presumably, money, she leaves, with her kit and stand, leaving the canvas with Sean.
Sean passes the canvas to one of the guys, who are still here surprisingly, and he goes out the room with it. Sean then walks up to us, and removes the cloth from my head, then tells all of us we can relax and separate, that we did well.
With a massive sigh, I prise myself off of Matt's now completely deflated cock, and collapse on the floor, almost falling off the podium. Both Matt and Rob do the same, but neither pull off their blindfolds, so I decided to leave my gag in, until Sean lets me take it out.
"Take off the blindfolds," he says releasing my arms from behind me, "And the gags, so you can have a chat. I'm leaving. Do whatever now." With that he walks away from us and exits with the other guy. As soon as they hear the door close, Matt and Rob remove their blindfolds, and I take off my gag.
Matt gets his blindfold off and sees me, just as I get my gag off.
"Chris!" he shouts, and leaps onto me, embracing me as if we'd been away from each other for years.
"Chris? Matt?" Rob asks, and we turn to him, "What are you doing here?"
"That bastard brother of mine tied me up and took me here," Matt says, then to me, "It seems he got both of us. I'll kill him, I will."
"Don't worry you two," I tell them, "I've been thinking for a while, and I think I know how to get back at him. We'll meet at mine tomorrow." With that we all get up and exit the building.
SEAN------
I wake the next day feeling refreshed and extremely happy about my enslavement of the three fag friends. I get up and brush my teeth, get some clean clothes on and then go down to have breakfast. Downstairs, I find my parents giving me a very discerning look.
"What have I done now?" I moan at them, like I normally would in such a situation.
"Don't give me that tone!" my Dad shouts at me, and I realise this is serious, "You know what you've done, and you should be bloody frightened of the consequences!" I just stand there and quiver.
"Chris told us what you've done to him. He showed us footage from a camera in the house you took him to," my Mum tells me, "And we know what you did to Matt as well."
"We will not have such actions like that here," my Dad booms, "So we're sending you to your Uncle, who knows a lot more about discipline than me. He'll teach you."
"But... I..." I stammer.
"You should've thought of that before you did what you did," my Dad says, his voice lowering, "Go pack your stuff. He'll be coming to pick you up this afternoon."
CHRIS-----
News of Sean's departure soon reaches the three of us, all at my house, and we're soon rejoicing.
"How should we celebrate?" Rob asks.
"A party!" I cheer.
"Where? What kind? Fancy dress!!" Rob yells out.
"How about a pyjama party at my house?" Matt suggests, "Now that Sean's gone it'll be a lot emptier."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: From now on, I shall be announcing what the theme of the next part will be, so as to forewarn those who may not wish to read certain scenarios, and also as a little spoiler for those who would be interested.
Chris' Experiences 9 theme: Pyjamas. Hey, I'm just sticking in what I get from emails. Don't like it? Send your own ideas. Don't worry, I'll stick some sex in for you horny buggers.
Emails will be happily received, criticisms, flames, junk mail, I don't care. Well, actually, not the junk mail. Feel free to request or suggest plot twists.
Copyright 2010 Anuttymous All rights reserved by the author. This work may not be reproduced, except for personal use, without permission of the author. Reproduction for any other use is prohibited.