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.
My thanks go to Nifty for all the pleasure the Archive has given me over the years and for the opportunity to bring my writing efforts to the attention of those who share my particular erotic interests. Readers are encouraged to make a donation to keep the archive going for many more years.
As always, feedback both critical and complimentary is welcome via e-mail to: barneybumpkin@gmail.com.
Please don't contact me with commercial requests or advertising.
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...
Part 9
Although, as far as men were concerned, Ian wasn't Marcel's usual fare, he was readily available, which was more than could be said of the other gay guys busy preening themselves on the rows of sun-loungers back on the beach!
He also seemed to be less inhibited and more sexually adventurous than his British compatriots, who usually had to be pissed out of their heads before they let their defences down and went for what they were really after.
Plus, this one had the advantage of knowing how to do as he was told as well as being willing to suck dick for more than a few minutes at a time without complaining!
"Oui," Marcel reflected to himself with a snigger, as he patted the industrious English guy on the head for adding some variety to his cock worship by licking his balls without need of telling, he could certainly have some fun with the naked sub with the recently spanked derriŠre, now so expertly sucking his dick!
"The Arab guys did a job on your tits, as well as your ass!" the increasingly confident Frenchman chuckled, reaching out to fondle Ian's swollen nipples and tweak them between his fingertips.
Ian instantly let out a gasp of pleasure, and to encourage Marcel to continue, rapidly returned his lips to his shaft to suck on it more enthusiastically than ever.
"Guess you like that, English boy!" he laughed, increasing the pressure on his tits as he witnessed his cock thump up hard against his belly.
Thrilled at being controlled in such a demeaning way, Ian responded by upping the pace of his sucking even more...
"Slow down!" the Frenchman was soon protesting, anxious to prevent himself from cumming before he'd had the pleasure of fucking this deliciously co-operative sub.
"Slow down!"" he repeated, backing-up his words by twisting Ian's reddened nipples as though they were speed dials.
When he was slow on the uptake, Marcel sank his nails deeper into their tender pink flesh until Ian backed off his cock completely and knelt drooling shame-faced before him.
"I said, slow down!" the Frenchman remonstrated, yanking up Ian's head up from his groin by the ear and awarding him a hard slap across the face.
"Pardonn‚ moi, Monsieur!" pleaded a shocked Ian, hiding his resentment and hanging his head contritely as he knew a good sub should.
"Hands on head!" Marcel then commanded, made bolder by Ian's meek acceptance of his punishment, only to up his humiliation yet further the moment he complied by twisting his tits so cruelly as to make him squirm.
Although the pain was hard to bear, Ian was so excited that he made no attempt to prise the Frenchman's hands from his chest and permitted him to fully exploit the power he had ceded him.
Encouraged, Marcel not only continued to torture his tits to obtain sadistic pleasure at his expense, but showed his contempt for the Englishman's excitement at his own humiliation by also slapping his dick around and squeezing his balls.
Despite his sufferings, Ian kept his hands glued to his head and added to his tormentor's satisfaction by whimpering and moaning and begging to be forgiven for committing the egregious offence of (almost) bringing his superior to too rapid a climax!
"Now I will fuck you!" Marcel announced, after having rendered Ian's arse, nipples, cock and balls as tender and raw as they had been at the conclusion of his visit to the shopping mall the day before.
"You have condom?" he enquired, suspecting the obliging Englishman had probably been fucked several times during the course of his holiday not just by the Arab guys!
"Oui Monsieur, dans mon baggage..." Ian mumbled, scurrying across to retrieve his bag, with his pulse still racing from his excitement and the torment the Frenchman had inflicted on him.
Marcel took it from him graciously as though being presented with a gift, only to slap him hard across the face once more when he noticed his eyes were now wide open and he was taking the measure of his cock.
"Eyes closed!" Marcel demanded, roughly prising Ian's head down to his groin once more, to have him prime his dick, prior to fucking him.
As the Englishman resumed sucking him as frantically as before, Marcel peered down into his bag and not only located the optimistic tourist's ample supply of condoms and lube but also his hidden watch and unused swimming trunks, which prompted him to grin.
"Take off my boots!" he commanded imperiously, setting down the bag after extracting what he needed from it and prising his slave's head down to his feet, "And then my pants!"
Unable to see the youngster's bared flesh, Ian opted for sampling its feel and taste instead, as he excitedly complied with his instructions, setting his footwear down reverently on the towel behind him before unfastening and easing down his French Master's pants over his arse.
Taking the opportunity to underline his obsequiousness still further, he not only licked Marcel's balls, but also slid his tongue along the inside of each of his hair- coated thighs, not stopping until he reached his feet, where he placed a series of grateful kisses on each of his sand-encrusted toes (the sand having got inside them as a result of their fruitless ascent of the dunes).
With the crouching Ian's reddened arse now beckoning, within a trice Marcel had ripped open the two sachets, adorned his cock with the condom and smeared the lube in and around the English boy's defenceless hole.
After hastily wiping his fingers on the towel, the Frenchman rose to his feet, positioned Ian with his head pressed down to the ground and his arse in the air and mounted him, sinking his rigid dick fully inside his hole with a single thrust.
Excited by the totality of Ian's submission, Marcel wasted no time going for gold, thrusting his cock in and out of his ass repeatedly whilst uttering a series of expressions in his native tongue that had been omitted from Ian's school English- French dictionary for fear of corrupting the young.
The youngster came quickly, giving Ian no opportunity to satisfy himself and withdrew his cock from his arse the moment his orgasm had subsided.
After casting the spunk-filled condom into the bushes to fertilise their roots, he quickly pulled on his culottes, emptied the sand from his boots and then stepped back into them.
Only when he was fully dressed again, did Marcel turn his attention back to Ian, who remained dutifully obeying his instructions by remaining in his ostrich-like position with his eyes closed, his arse in the air and his head in the sand, desperately hoping there was more to come.
"Now you must cum too!" the Frenchman avowed, chuckling to himself as he admired the inflamed circles adorning Ian's up-turned rump, which looked as though they'd been coated with rouge, before playfully reaching between his legs to grab hold of his still hard dick and lever it backwards to make him squirm.
"But first, I tie you up!"
"You like that, I think?" he chuckled.
"Oui Monsieur!" Ian confirmed rashly in reply, becoming freshly excited at the prospect of being rendered even more vulnerable and maybe being forced to cum, but also wondering where the restraints would come from...
As though in answer to his question, Marcel removed Ian's socks from the tops of his shoes, knotted their ends together and slid them, like a bandanna, over the top of his head, only to then pull them lower to form a blindfold.
"Get up!" he then demanded, hoisting Ian up from the ground and placing his hands on top of his head so his naked body was now visible to passers-by.
He then ripped the laces from the Englishman's trainers and tied these together too.
"Follow me!" Marcel then commanded, steering the sightless Ian barefoot across the hot sand to the more exposed side of their oasis, with his hard cock bouncing around harder than ever in anticipation of what was to come.
Wordlessly, Marcel manoeuvred Ian's body until he was backed up against the trunk of the single willowy tree, then knotted the end of the conjoined laces around his left wrist, draped the remainder of it over an overhanging branch and, after a bit of toing and froing, with his victim's complicity, succeeded in knotting its opposite end around his right one.
"Bon!" the Frenchman commented to himself, awarding the now helpless Ian a kiss on the cheek, reminiscent of that of Judas, before pulling his cigarettes from his pants' pocket and sitting down on the wall to admire his handiwork while he enjoyed a post-coital smoke.
As he did so, he noticed one curious sun-seeker after another divert his stroll through the dunes to take a closer look at what was going on in his particular sexual oasis, only to walk away when he caught his eye and hover indecisively a short distance away, beneath the shade of the next clump of scrubby trees.
It was at this point that a means of increasing the Englishman's humiliation beyond leaving him stranded, bereft of his clothes and possessions, occurred to his captor, one which might prove to be even more lucrative...
To be continued...
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