Disclaimer:
This story is intended for adults interested in homosexual erotica. If that is not something that you wish to read then go no further.
All characters and situations are fictional though hopefully plausible and grounded in reality.
The work published here is all my own with all rights reserved.
The author is based in the UK so the diction reflects this but my stories involve characters of different ethnicities and many are set in locations outside the UK.
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Hope you enjoy
Barney
THE ISLE OF DOGS?
Summary
After hearing about Playa Del Ingles reputation for being a sun-drenched gay paradise, Ian Hamilton opts to take a winter holiday in the Canary Islands.
Travelling alone, after the beak up of a relationship, he opts to book with a gay tour operator, thinking he will soon make friends with his fellow tourists.
But introverted Ian doesn't make friends easily and when his travelling companions all seem to be in tight-knit couples or groups and no one he fancies takes much interest in him, he turns to the locals to satisfy his craving for sexual domination and his lust for hirsute Latino and Arabic guys.
A few years later, a more sexually accomplished Ian hears the resort now has a leather scene, so decides to visit Gran Canaria again.
This time, he mixes more with his British compatriots, but after finding it hard to pin down a guy he fancies, who is into the sort of sex he enjoys, he fears he may have to settle for watching the drunken antics of others.
Until, on the last night of his stay, he summons up the courage to make a move on a strikingly handsome guy who has caught his eye in the disco.
When his affection is reciprocated, Ian proceeds to introduce his companion to the delights of public humiliation and bondage, only for things not to work out quite as he had planned...
- Bondage 101
Ian's cock had stirred the moment Enrique had kissed him, now it became as hard as a rock! Excited not only by the thought of having to shed his clothes while the barman remained fully dressed but also by the prospect of being put into bondage, he hurried to comply with his demands.
But after quickly kicking off his trainers, it dawned on Ian that the moment he removed his jeans, his new admirer would discover the redness of his recently spanked backside and, when he took off his T-shirt, would spot the "marks of Zorro" adorning his neck, giving him the impression he was a complete slut!
Although, before he had set out that evening, he had hidden the hickeys beneath a thick layer of ultra-fair blemish concealer he had bought at a pharmacy, by now he guessed the brownish-blue teeth marks would almost certainly be showing through.
Once the Spaniard had him trussed up and at his mercy, he feared he would interpret the scars he still bore as a result of his previous sexual adventures as an open invitation not only to redden his flushed ass cheeks yet again (by spanking him for the third time that week), but also for him to impose his own marks on his previously pristine body!
However, the last thing Ian wanted to do at this juncture was risk dampening the handsome barman's ardour by attempting to impose limits on him in advance of them having sex! Besides which, the language barrier that existed between them made such negotiations virtually impossible.
Only then did it hit him that the same had been true of his tryst with Ali and his young assistant in the shopping mall and with Marcel and the guy who'd fucked him in the dunes. In the latter case, he'd ended up being trashed by a whole mob of horny strangers who had no qualms about taking what they wanted from him regardless of his own preferences.
And yet, only hours afterwards, he had been beating-off ferociously as he recounted every moment of his public humiliation!
Only at this point did the shy Brit finally realise that he really was a slut - at least when he was on holiday in a place where nobody knew who he was! So, after just a moment's hesitation, he opted to continue his reckless pursuit of new sexual adventures and eagerly yanked his T-shirt off over his head, deciding he would take the risk of letting the more sexually experienced barman tie him up and do whatever else he liked with him! At least he knew where the guy worked for god's sake, which was more than you could say about Marcel and the nameless guys he'd met on the beach!
But before he lowered his pants to unveil what he thought might be the red rag of his beaten arse to his hirsute Spanish bull, Ian wordlessly conveyed the most important of his limits to his latest sex partner by extracting the condom and lube packs he kept in his jeans' pocket and thrusting them into his hand.
Interpreting this as Ali had, as an invitation to fuck him, rather than a sign of his commitment to safer sex, Enrique just flashed him a grin as he took the packs away from him, tore two of them open and set them down on the table beside him, ready for use.
Relieved he had not cast them aside, Ian slid his jeans down to his ankles and was about to complete his strip by tugging off each of his socks, when the impatient Spaniard grabbed hold of his wrists and hoisted his hands up above his head.
He then stood back to inspect his latest conquest naked for the first time.
"You very nice!" he cooed, repeating the three words that had been all that was required to seduce the British tourist, as he examined Ian's muscular body with his penetrating brown eyes, breaking into a grin when he witnessed his swollen dick thump up hard against his pallid belly as he looked him up and down.
"Turn around! I want see ass!" he then demanded, displaying a greater mastery of English than Ian had given him credit for.
Maybe doing this sort of thing on a regular basis had given him the incentive to memorise the essential commands not only in English but in French and German too!
Realising he should have known he wouldn't be able to hide his twice-beaten arse from him for long, Ian hung his head in shame before performing the required pirouette, hoping his previous sluttish behaviour would not lead to his rejection or his still-sore ass being tanned yet again!
Unable to see his admirer's face, he could only deduce from the barman's laughter and the playful slaps he immediately landed on each of his buttocks that his reddened rump, the hickeys on his neck and his absence of any underwear were not going to put him off fucking him!
"That not sunburn, I think!" he sniggered after turning Ian back to face him, "And these not mosquito bites!" he added, rubbing off the remnants of the concealer so he could see the teeth marks imprinted on each side of Ian's neck more clearly.
But within the flicker of an eye, the barman's laughter mutated into something more sinister, as he wrapped his fingers around Ian's throat, thrust back his head and slowly tightened his grip around his windpipe!
Already red from the effects of the sun and his sexual arousal, within moments Ian's cheeks had flushed purple, but even as he gasped for air, he continued to hold his hands up in the air to signal his submission.
He'd come across breath control before - but only once when he'd been corralled in a sex-club cubicle with a dominant older South Asian guy who had taken a fancy to him. He'd survived the experience but had read about how dangerous it was on the internet afterwards, so ever since then, given the chance, he he'd specified it was not something he was looking to experience again.
He also recalled a rumour that a former gay college buddy of his had met his end in his mid-twenties as a result of either autoerotic asphyxiation or suicide by hanging!
However, his own experience had left him unsure how much his increased excitement had been the result of halting the flow of oxygen-rich blood to his brain and how much the result of the humiliation of being controlled in this way.
Delighted by his mark's response, before Ian had summoned up the temerity to resist, Enrique quickly let go of his neck and returned a smile of approval to his face, leaving Ian simultaneously shocked and thrilled by his unexpected actions.
The barman, meanwhile, calmly picked up two of the cuffs from the table where Ian had put them while he undressed and proceeded to fasten them around his wrists.
When he was done, he handed him the two others to wrap around his ankles and told him to remove his socks while he was at it.
A trembling Ian did exactly as he was told while Enrique reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out four short choke-chains with carabiner clips attached to the ends of them, which he hooked onto the fixtures he'd driven into the wall and skirting.
After positioning Ian centrally between them, still facing him, Enrique stretched up each of his arms in turn until both cuffs were clipped in place.
He then knelt down to do the same to the ones wrapped around his ankles, pulling Ian's legs wider apart and moving the hooks further along the chains to reduce his height and thereby increase the tension in his splayed-out body.
Once he had him trussed-up to his satisfaction, the barman sat down a few feet away from him, put his feet up on a table and resumed quaffing his beer, only this time round, he had no need of a porn mag to entertain him!
To be continued...
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