There would be no sleep.
At least not feeling the way I felt. Hurt, vulnerable, completely helpless. Captive in my own home. Whatever Ian slipped me wore off pretty quickly, following just behind was the alcohol and weed leaving my system. My focus was returning, and I really had to take a piss.
The first guests arrived a few minutes after Ian left me here. I could hear the doorbell and muffled chatter as they came in, as well as the unmistakable slap of high-fives. The next crew came a few minutes after that. Before long it had become a true rager. Music blaring - Ian's hip-hop again. It was hard to tell from the quality of noise available to me but between what I could hear going on upstairs, plus the commotion in the backyard hitting me via the open window high up on my basement wall, there must have been at least 30 kids here, all having the time of their lives, oblivious to what was lurking in the basement. My dick started to stiffen with the thought of sharing my home for such a juvenile occasion. I'd give anything to be 15 years younger and join them as a peer.
I was discovered about two hours after Ian left me. The basement door creaked open flooding the downstairs with reverberated commotion for a moment until the mystery entrant closed it behind them. I could hear them amble down the stairs sloppily as they started working their way around the bottom floor's only other room, a space I was using as a pathetic attempt to prove I worked out. To whom, though? I wasn't sure if I should be worried or hopeful yet.
After exploring the space, the faint clinks of weights making their way through the paper-thin walls, the laundry room was discovered. The closer door slowly folded open and an unfamiliar presence slinked in. From the pale light of the moon coming in through the tiny window, my only illumination, I knew I didn't recognize this boy. He struck me as.....older? More mature maybe? He was bigger at least. Sporting a respectable mustache for anyone under 18 and wearing a high-school football jersey. Saddle Ridge. Same as Ian. He took a quick survey of the room before spotting me and quickly turning back around.
"Whoa, shit! Sorry, dude. Just trying to find the shitter!"
It took him a few seconds for his brain to process what he had seen, telling him to swing back and investigate. He poked his head around the corner.
"Uhhhhh....hey there, man. Uhhhhhh.....you good, dude?"
He had an affectation not unlike one you might hear from a SoCal surfer. That sort of perma-stoned voice. Except I think in this case he was also actually stoned.
MMMHMHMMMMm MHHHHhHhHMHMMMMM
It was maddening being robbed of my voice. Everything just came out muffled but it piqued his curiosity. He stepped closer cautiously.
"Yooooo..... Uhhhh.....shit. Wicked! Okay. Uh.....damn. What do I do?" The full extent of my predicament was now apparent. "Okay, uh...Okay man. I'm going to get Ian, wait here."
MMMHMHMmmhhhhhhmmmMMMm!!! MHHHHhHhHMHMMMMM!!!
My mind was screaming at him to handle this himself. I just needed to be able to communicate, but he was gone too soon.
I heard the basement door reopen a few minutes later, multiple sets of footsteps this time. My nerves heightened not knowing what was coming next. I found myself welling up with embarrassment. I didn't want anyone to see me like this, let alone a bunch of punk teenagers. The same kid from before was now explaining what he saw aloud.
"Yeah E, I'm telling ya man I was just trying to find another bathroom cause the one upstairs was busy and now I'm getting fucking freaked out. I don't think this Airbnb is what you think it is, man. Get a load of this shit."
In walked three figures. One, the football player, now looking around the room nervously. Second, Ian, fisting a near-full bottle of Vodka with one hand and eyes bloodshot. And the third, a woman, her arm around Ian's waist. The vaunted Cindy. Must be. She was stunning with long blonde hair and glossy lips. A stretchy, barely-there tube top covered her modest but perky breasts, revealing her toned stomach. A pink mini-skirt didn't leave much else to the imagination.
MMMHMHMMMMm MHHHHhHhHMHMMMMM
"What do you think, man? This is so fucked up," the football player asked. "We gotta call the cops right? This is like, a news story man!"
"No!" Ian said immediately, so booming loud that everyone else in the room flinched, including me. It became dead silent. He had our attention now.
"No. Shut the fuck up, Ross. No one calls the cops." He looked over at Cindy. "We don't want this party to end do we, babe?"
"So this is the dude, huh?" Cindy said, locking eyes with me. The dude? Ian told her about me? She looked on with an intense curiosity, and not the first hint of shame or disgust or indignation.
"Dude? What dude?" Ross replied. "Why is there a....an adult tied up in the basement of your Airbnb?"
"This isn't a fucking Airbnb, dipshit. I never said it was." Ian brought the bottle of Vodka directly to his mouth, taking a swig and then wiping the remaining detritus on his mouth with the back of his free hand. Despite his sloppiness, he never looked hotter. "This is Chris, he's the fucking faggot that owns this place. He's graciously hosting our party tonight," he said, chuckling.
"Uhhhhh, okay dude, but why is he in here....like..... this?"
"Because I throw dope parties, man!" Ian replied. "And I don't want some bitch-ass almost old enough to be my dad hanging out with us and crashing the vibe. I can't risk him trying to pull rank and kick people out when shit really starts to go down."
"Suuuuure, dude." Ross said, skeptically. "But like how? I guess? Like. How do you know him again?"
"Because he's a little pedo faggot who couldn't help himself," Ian answered.
"Not gonna lie, he's low-key cute," Cindy volunteered, earning a sudden glare from her man. He continued undeterred.
"But for real, I was out jogging, getting ready for the season, when this dude invites me in for water. I come in and he's, like, practically begging to suck my cock. Faggot became an addict, started doing me favors. He's just like everybody else, once they get a taste of this cock, it's over." Ian used his free hand to pull down the waistband of his shorts, playfully revealing his full, but still now semi-hard member. It was hard not to stare at its stunning beauty. As shitty as he's treated me, I couldn't deny I wanted to shove it as far down my throat as it could go.
"Put that away, baby." Cindy said, laughing while she helped cover him back up. "You're getting me hot."
"What, dude? Like he really sucked you? Gross." There was a tinge of disgust in Ross' voice but an even larger tinge of curiosity.
"Nah, it's not the nineteen-hundreds anymore, dude. Doesn't matter where it comes from if it feels good. No judgment."
"Yeah, I hear that." Ross said looking me up and down again, as if needing to validate Ian's story. I could tell he was struggling to square modern convention with his own instinctual inclinations, but he wasn't going to say anything else on the subject. Such is the influence of Ian. "So... what, he sucks your cock two months ago and then he lets you throw a party in his house?"
"Naw man. This shit has been going down all summer. Me and Adam have been over here raging almost every fucking week!"
"Adam's in on this?" Ross interrupted to ask.
"Yeah, dude. I think this fag has the hots for him. Like, seriously."
MMMHMHMMMMm MHHHHhHhHMHMMMMM
Fuck. I hated being so transparent. Ian continued.
"He's desperate to do whatever I fucking tell him to. He's been doing my homework all summer. Paying for my weed. This has been our party spot. Man, we've had some wild fucking nights."
"Hell yeah, E, that's dope," Ross said, things were beginning to click with him in a way that calmed him down.
"Yeah, jesus he's so fucking pathetic." Ian took another swig of vodka. Making a grunting sound as it went down, as if it was more a struggle than usual. "Dude was a virgin until Adam plowed his ass a few weeks ago."
"Fuuuuuuck. Hell yeah, little dude. Getting your dick wet!" Ross said, laughing.
This was becoming unbearable. All my insecurities were being laid bare, the circle of people knowing how much of a loser I am, how Ian has totally dominated me, continuing to grow larger. I started thinking about all the work I was going to have to do to cut this contagion off. Meanwhile, Ian kept pouring it on.
"I don't think he's even seen a woman naked in real life. Never seen perfect little tits like these right here," he said as he cupped Cindy's breasts with his free hand.
"Oh, come on babe," Cindy responded with a little jump and a chuckle, as if she didn't expect the sudden contact. "They're not that little."
"Nah, girl. They're fucking exquisite," he responded, adding a playful chef's kiss.
Ian put his bottle down on the ground and used both hands to pull Cindy's top down, now exposing her to the room. He immediately got to work, moving his face in and sucking on her left nipple, while continuing to fondle the other. Every cock in the room was at full attention now. Ross was positively drooling. Cindy seemed surprised by not upset, a wry smile coming across her face. She cupped his head with her hands.
"Damn, Ian, you are fucking crazy man. I love it!," Ross exclaimed.
After a few more moments of face time Ian came back up for air.
"Shit, babe. I could work on these forever. Someone needs to put them in a museum." Everyone laughed.
"Now go give Chris over there a little thrill," Ian said looking in my direction.
"Uhhhhhh, what do you mean, E?" Cindy replied, trepidaciously.
"Dude has never had tits in his face before. Go show him what he's been missing." Cindy paused for another moment. "Show him, girl," Ian insisted before picking the bottle back up off the floor.
"Show him," he repeated a little more forcefully.
Cindy took a moment to process before sauntering over. She straddled herself over me before slowly moving down to align her chest with my eyes, now wide as saucers. Her supple breasts and soft nipples began making contact with my face. They felt comforting, like a blanket.
"Fuck yeah, you slut. Sit down a little so you don't have to squat, give him a little dance."
"Holy shit, babe, he's hard as a rock!" Cindy said laughing, as she moved up and down on my lap, getting into it. I've never even sniffed a strip club before so this was an entirely new experience for me, and my manhood was showing it. I guess I prefer guys, but there was no getting around it, Cindy was fucking sexy.
"Fuck, this is something else," Ross chimed in, grabbing his crotch to reposition things. I think he envied me. "Correction. Both of y'all are fucking crazy."
"You like my girlfriend, loser?" Ian said with equal parts humor and disdain. She began riding me harder and harder. At some point she dispensed with the pretense of her smothering my face with her chest and turned around, locking eyes with Ian as she continued her version of a lap dance. I heard her moan ever so slightly.
"Alright alright! Enough. Cindy, get the fuck off him!" Ian said as he quickly moved over to intervene, grabbing Cindy by her arm and forcing her off of me.
"Jesus, E. I was just doing what you asked!"
"I know what I asked, dammit. Both of you are liking it just a little too much."
"I'm sorry, baby. I thought that's what you wanted," Cindy replied, with a hint of exasperation in her voice.
"It's fine." Ian paused, "You know I love you, baby girl. Just....." He appeared at a loss for words before turning to me.
"Did you enjoy that, faggot?" he asked. I stayed silent, the tape preventing me from saying anything. He grabbed me by my hair again, forcing me to look up at his imposing presence.
"I can't hear you, bitch. DID YOU ENJOY THAT?"
MMMMMMMmmm hhhmMmMMMM
It was the best I could do under the circumstances. And then.....pain.
RRRRRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPP
My mouth and lips were suddenly on fire, but my voice was free. I gasped for breath.
"FUUUUUUUUCK, Ian. JESUS CHRIST, man." My first words in over two hours.
"This is insane man let me go!!" I struggled against my shackles in a slightly performative display of pain. Ian stepped up and grabbed me by the throat.
"I'll let you go when I'm fucking done with you, faggot," Ian growled, his breath steaming hot on my face.
SSSSSPPPLLLLAAATTTT
Ian's spit hit me on my right cheek, my recoil not enough to counter his stellar aim.
"Fuuuuuuuck," I heard Ross say from across the room, still being ignored by all involved. "This is the craziest thing I've ever seen. You're insane, man!" He chuckled giddily.
Ian pulled down the elastic waistband of his gym shorts and boxers in one go, once again revealing himself, this time rock hard. It had been two weeks since I last sucked him off and despite everything, despite my plan to finally cut things off, I was desperate for it again. A complete slut for his cock - for his control. I was addicted. I was still committed to ending this tomorrow, but what harm would there be in going out in a blaze of glory?
"Give it to him, babe!" Cindy called out from across the room.
"Oh I'm gonna give it to him, girl," his response. "Time to close your eyes, faggot. Mouth open."
I complied instantly, expecting another taste of his rank, musky member. The anticipation built as I felt the heat radiating off the tip of his spear. But instead of that familiar, warm flesh, I felt something different. Warm, wet, voluminous, acrid, splashing across my face.
"Holy shit, dude, you're a fucking freak," Ross said. I opened my eyes, now witnessing a strong stream of urine emanating from in front of Ian, splashing into, and out of my mouth, taking me by complete surprise. My instinct, once my brain registered what was happening, was to avoid his missile by squirming any way I could out of the line of fire, but my physical constraints made that difficult.
"What the fuck, man?," was all I could register in the moment. Ian reached out and grabbed me hard by the chin.
"Stay still, faggot! Gotta wash my spit off you." Ian couldn't help but laugh, his spirits riding high from drink and power.
I couldn't help but wince as Ian continued, helplessly at his whims. The pressure of his stream gave him pinpoint accuracy, directing his piss to within an inch of the desired target. The rank liquid exited my mouth almost as soon as it entered, droplets firing everywhere, collecting and cascading down my chin, down my neck and beyond, beginning to soak the ratty t-shirt I had on.
"SWALLOW, MOTHER FUCKER!," Ian said with palpable disgust. He took a step forward and placed his cock inside my mouth, forcing it closed to make a seal. I struggled to keep up, my head wanting to pull back but Ian's hands now braced the base of my skull. I had no other choice but to start chugging. It was utterly disgusting. I gulped maybe twice before my entire body convulsed and I broke free of Ian's grasp. I slumped in my chair, as far down as my constraints would allow me, coughing up spit and urine, making an absolute mess. Ian took a step back and surveyed the room, turning to Ross.
"You're up bud. I know you weren't looking for a bathroom for nothing, there's your toilet right there," he said motioning at me.
"Oh, uhhhh..... I dunno man," Ross responded, "I think I just want to watch."
"Ian! Come on, dude!" I pleaded, as I continued to expel the remnants of spittle from my mouth, now pulling my hands apart as hard as I could with a pathetic cry, just hoping without evidence that they would somehow break apart and I could at least use my arms as intended. "This is over the line dude, I'm telling you to let me go!"
Ian ignored me completely and turned to Ross.
"I know you came downstairs for a reason," referencing the bathroom search that started this scene in the first place. I interrupted before Ross could respond.
".....or do we need to have a conversation about.....Gabriella."
That got Ian's attention. He stopped dead and glared in my direction.
"Oh you little fucking shit!," he said with pure evil in his eyes. Ian extended his muscled arm and grabbed my throat preparing for what I'll never know when I heard cackling from the other side of the room. It was Cindy.
"Gabriella?" Everyone turned their attention to her. "You mean that little slut in Cancun?" She laughed again. "Nah, that bitch can't hold a candle to me, right babe?"
"Nah, girl. No one will ever beat you and you know it." Ian said without once taking his eyes off me. "Her little clit was sore watching that video of me and Gabriella fucking. But nice try, faggot."
"Okay you didn't need to tell him thaaaaat," Cindy called out.
Ian took a step back and landed a quick but stout punch right to my gut.
THUD
I buckled over in pain, moaning, spitting up even more, now crushed with embarrassment that my strategy completely backfired. Ian wins again.
"You're getting too friendly with Adam, faggot." He growled in my ear, barely audible to anyone else but me. "I know how much you've been talking. I've heard what you've been saying to him. I am going to end this...NOW." Upon saying the word "now" he hit me with another jab.
THUD
I cried out in pain. "Fuuuuuuuuuuck Ian, why???"
"Who the fuck do you think you are? You're never going to talk to him again do you understand, bitch? Not another fucking word, I mean it."
"You wouldn't." I was quivering. "You can't."
"The fuck I can't!" Ian snarled back. "Watch what happens."
It had only been a few weeks but I had established a real connection to Adam, and I assumed him, me. We had been chatting constantly, about increasingly serious things. We talked about how we could keep up with his school, how I could help him with computer homework and maybe offer him a referral when the time finally came. Our age difference meant we'd probably never have a physical relationship but it was good enough for me to just be able to talk to him, see him grow up. I had been desperately looking forward to it. I couldn't help but start to get emotional.
"Are you....are you fucking crying?" Ian asked.
"Stop it, Ian. You can't do this, man! There's more to it than this game you're playing. We're friends now."
"Awwww, hit a nerve did I?" Ian replied maniacally. "You got a little boyfriend now and you think you're buddies is that it? Man, Adam doesn't give the first shit about you, dude. Sorry to burst your bubble. He's fronting."
His words were hitting me like knives to my heart.
"That's not true! Stop saying that shit, man. And FUCKING LET ME GO!" I screamed, my emotions pouring out of me, the pure exhaustion making me even more vulnerable. Ian recoiled in annoyance at the scream, then pulled his phone out.
"Let's get him down here then. I need him to bring some shit anyway," Ian said, now completely calm, typing away at his phone. When he was done he put it away and grabbed the roll of duct tape.
"But first, a promise is a promise, not another word. Stay still, faggot." Ian said as he stretched out a foot-long section of tape and applied it to my mouth.
MHHHMMMMMHMHMMM MHHHHMHMMMMM
Ian stepped away and turned on some music on his phone. Just loud enough to wash away the intense feeling that had settled deep down here in the basement. He wanted to turn this back into a party. Adam's footsteps on the loud staircase leading to the basement could be heard almost immediately.
"Yooooooooo. Heard our little secret it out," Adam said entering the room, stumbling a bit. He was drunk too. He too was carrying his own bottle, and also what appeared to be a small beer bong - a funnel with some kind of tubing attached. He looked over at me and stopped for a moment to process. "Fuuuuuck. What is that smell? Did you pee on him you sick fuck?" he said as he chuckled.
"Just marking my territory," Ian said with a smirk. "Gimmie that shit. You got the lube too?"
"Fuck yeah, I do," Adam produced a small bottle from his pocket and handed it to Ian. His hands now free, Adam walked over to me and did something I didn't even think he was capable of.
SMAAAACK
"You little faggot bitch! You think I give a shit about you?!? You think you're gonna turn me against my best friend!"
SMAAAACK
MHHHMMMMMHMHMMM MHHHHMHMMMMM
"FUCK YOU, FAGGOT!" He screamed, taking a moment to spit in my face.
SPPPPPUHHHHH
"Jesus, Adam," Ross couldn't help but remark.
"Me and Ian are going to be friends forever! After tonight I'm never thinking about your disgusting ass ever again!"
MHHHMMMMMHMHMMM MHHHHMHMMMMM
The tears were streaming down my face uncontrollably, a mix of the physical pain and the pain of feeling betrayed. Ian's influence is unquestionable, potent and vast.
"Fuck yeah, little buddy," Ian said proudly. Cindy was still watching, laughing to herself, now clinging to her man. Ross was still in the room watching with wide eyes, still unable to fully understand what was happening. "You should block his number, dude!"
Adam looked over at Ian and back at me. He pulled his cell phone out and dialed up my contact, turning the phone to me to be sure I saw it when he tapped the "block" button. I was dumbfounded. How did I read this so wrong? Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but damn, it was still having its desired effect.
"Let's get these smelly fucking clothes off him," Ian declared, interrupting my thoughts.
He walked over and grabbed my soaking, ratty t-shirt with both his powerful hands. With ease, he ripped in a straight line down the front, exposing my lily-white chest to the room. He continued with the sleeves, grabbing and tearing with real force, jerking me forward and about, ripping the delicate cotton into shreds, circumventing the need to remove the constraints that still tied my hands behind my back. It was a true display of power.
"Stand up, faggot!"
Ian kicked the chair out from under me before I had a chance to even register the command. I crumpled forward to my knees while the second constraint tying me to the wall forced my arms up and backward in an awkward, painful way. I winced from the feeling caused by the angle my arms were now in.
"C'mon now, bitch. I said stand up." Ian placed his hand under one of my armpits and brought me up forcefully. He grabbed the waistband of my shorts and pulled down, struggling at first to get it past my erect penis, which was now plainly exposed to everyone.
"Holy shit, how is he still hard?" Cindy asked. The disgust was plain in her voice.
"Because he's a fucking faggot," Adam answered. "In his sick mind, he gets off on me and Ian treating him like a fucking dog. If only he knew what we have in store for him. He's gonna be hard the rest of his li..."
"Alright, alright, little buddy. That's enough." Ian interrupted.
My shorts were now at my ankles. I saw Ian fish around in his pocket for a few seconds before producing a small key. He moved around to my backside and I could feel him working. After a few moments, I could tell I was no longer tethered to the wall, but my hands were still cuffed.
"Back on the ground now, bitch," Ian said, giving me a strong push from behind. My instinct was to take a step forward to keep my balance, but the shorts at my ankles prevented my step. Gravity took care of the rest. I was at least able to bend my knees forward to brace some of the impact but I still took a hard hit to my chest and shoulder as I came crashing down, my hands unable to pick up any of the slack.
"Shit! Man that must have hurt," Ross said, wincing on my behalf.
Ian kept working, ignoring the comment completely. With me now, my knees on the floor, my chest and neck providing the other fulcrum, he finally pulled the shorts completely off, freeing my legs.
"Lube up that bong for me, dude." he said, looking over at Adam.
I could tell Adam knew where he was going with this, taking the 15 seconds needed to apply the jelly to his hands before he started working the end of the tubing up and down. Watching him do this was not helping me settle my now painful erection.
"Ass up. Spread your legs," Ian said to me. I did my best to comply, but it felt like a physical feat to do so given I didn't have the benefit of my arms. Regardless I provided Ian with enough of a target to do what he had in mind. He then unexpectedly turned to Ross.
"Make yourself useful," he said, as he motioned with the funnel and tube. It took Ross a moment to understand what he was suggesting, but it finally clicked.
"Ahhhhhh no, man. I'm good. I'm staying out of this."
"Cost of admission, bud. I need to know you're with us on this."
"C'mon, man! If coach finds out about this I'm so cooked."
Ian walked over and deposited the beer bong in his stomach, Ross instinctually grabbing it with his hands as he crouched down as if hit with the same gut punch I just received, quickly exhaling. He then gave Ross a forceful push in my direction, almost sending him to the ground. Ross used his free hand to prevent stumbling completely.
"Alright, alright! I fucking get it," Ross said slightly annoyed. I braced for impact as he stepped behind me, my asshole now vulnerable. It went in like butter, thinner than anything else that has gone in there before, lubricated more than anything else too. A forceful entry was not the point here.
"Alright it's in, Ian."
"Good, hold it straight up."
Unable to see behind me, my ears were now my guide. I heard a small pop sound, clearly that of a bottle reopening. Within seconds I could feel it. Extreme cold sliding into my rectum. I fought every instinct not to immediately try to expel it back out like a watery shit, but it kept coming.
"Alright thaaaaat should do it. I saw on Reddit even a shot or two this way completely fucks somebody up. Nighty night, faggot."
The tubing was pulled out and I collapsed down prone on the cold cement floor, breathing hard. Within a minute it was already hitting, I knew I wouldn't have much consciousness left this evening.
Amazingly, I woke up the next morning still sitting on that chair. The sun's light easily filled the room with light, the lone window cracked such that I could hear the morning birds' call and the passing of vehicles on the nearby street. I had a headache, and I was real groggy, but otherwise, I wasn't all that hungover. Still, I couldn't remember a thing after Ian had Ross perform his duty.
All the restraints were removed, thank god, although I could still see marks on my wrists, as I could see, and feel, the sticky residue of urine and crusty deposits of semen all over my body, face and hair. I looked over to see a spilled beer, its expelled contents newly crystalized, already discovered and conquered by a small army of ants reaping the benefits. I made a mental note to call the exterminator.
Stranger than that perhaps, I wasn't naked. I was wearing a pair of burgundy basketball shorts, emblazed with Ian and Ross' high school emblem on one side, half soaked from piss, mine apparently. I definitely don't remember that, but thinking about them also having been on Ian's body at some point gave me a charge. They were tight, but they fit. Were Ian and Adam still here even? As much as I hate to admit it I hoped the answer was no. With the summer now officially over it's the easiest way. Cold turkey. I started thinking about having to clean up after such a rager. Is it too much to expect these kids to clean up after themselves? I chuckled to myself.
I mustered up the strength to stand up, feeling the creakiness in my knees getting up for the first time in half a day, when.....I felt it.
My limp cock and balls felt strange. Heavy. Way heavier than normal. I pulled the shorts down to investigate and I felt a pit form in my stomach. I feel like I've seen them before in passing. I'm not really into the really kinky stuff. But I knew enough to understand what I was looking at. My penis was entrapped in a cage of steel rings, itself wrapped around my scrotum, and locked closed.
I gulped. I knew in my bones my circumstances had suddenly changed.
This felt very, very wrong.