A Teen Jock's Humiliation
Copyright 1999 Calspeed
Chapter One
"AWW SHIT!" I said as my car coasted to a stop on the mountain road. The alternator light had come on and then the car stopped. I fumbled around under the hood for a while and determined that I wasn't going anywhere.
My irritation then turned to worry. Let me explain: My name is Cal. I just turned 18 a couple of weeks ago. About six months ago my father (who is a lumber company executive) got transferred from the Pacific Northwest to a hole in the wall town in backwoods Maine. I was trying my best but I was just not fitting in at my new high school. I got on the school baseball team but other than hanging out with some of my teammates (none of whom I liked all that much), I really hadn't made any new friends. Part of the problem is I come off kind of cocky - I am a jock and pretty good looking (5'11'', well built, light brown hair and blue eyes) - and it puts people off. I guess I am somewhat arrogant (I'm self-confident about my athletic ability and looks) but a lot of my manner is really just shyness. I guess you can't expect other people to figure that out though.
Anyway, there was some sort of mechanical problem up at one of the lumber camps owned by my dad's company and since no pickups or deliveries were scheduled up there, my dad asked me to drive up and deliver the needed part. It was going to be a hassle since it was almost 100 miles, most of it on private logging roads. It would take me a full day. But since it was Saturday (no school) and I didn't have anything better to do (and, besides, my dad is pretty cool and doesn't ask me to do much), I said sure.
I delivered the part without incident and hadn't gotten even halfway back home when the car dies. I don't have a cell phone and no one lives nearby. In fact, since all the land is owned by the lumber company, I don't think there is any human habitation nearer than where the logging road meets the public road which must be another forty miles or so.
It dawned on me that I didn't have a lot of good alternatives. I could wait in the car for help but it could be a long time coming. No one but the lumber company was supposed to use the road and they weren't going to have anybody coming up for over a week (that's why I was up here to begin with). My parents would look for me eventually but I had told them that I might stay over with Pete, a baseball teammate, tonight so they wouldn't miss me until probably tomorrow night. My plans with Pete were pretty tentative so he wouldn't think twice if I didn't show. Also, it was early Fall and while the day had been unseasonably warm, it was supposed to get very cold tonight. Up here it would be below freezing and I only had a light leather jacket for warmth. I couldn't run the car heater with the car dead. Could you freeze to death inside a car? It seemed like you could. On the other hand, leaving didn't seem like such a good idea. Walking back to the camp didn't make much sense; it was back up the steepest part of the mountain. I wasn't a marathoner; if I walked down the mountain toward home, there was no way I would make it before the temperature dropped. I had to hope that I would either run into somebody or find some sort of cabin or something on the way down (though I sure didn't remember anything like that driving up). The only good news was that it was going to be a full moon so I would be able to see okay after dark.
Ultimately, I decided to go for it. Action seemed better than inaction. So I grabbed my jacket and started walking.
My mood brightened a little as I walked. It was still warm enough in the late afternoon sun, and with the leaves already turning, the woods were really quite beautiful. After I had walked for about an hour, I started feeling horny. With being on the road and all, I had not masturbated today. I was at a bend in the road that overlooked a shallow valley with a slow moving stream running through it. Downstream a bit was a small bridge. It was a nice view and I figured this was as good a place as any to beat off. I unbuckled and unzipped my khakis and let them slip to the ground. I pushed my underpants down below my knees. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled up my undershirt. My manhood quickly sprang to attention as I began stroking it with my left hand (I'm right handed for most things but left handed for this for some reason). I really like my dick; it isn't overly large (6") but it's nicely proportioned. I gave special attention to playing with the head and the small slit. As I continued pumping with my left hand, I used my right hand to stroke my balls and then reach behind me to rub my butt cheeks and crack. I tickled that sensitive area between my balls and asshole and then blew my load. I cleaned myself up, pulled my clothes back together and then started walking again.
I had walked down the logging road for a few more minutes when I caught what I thought was the break of my young life. Parked on a wide spot in the road near a bridge was a rusty old black Camaro which I recognized from school. It belonged to Steve, a guy I had a couple of classes with. Steve was the undisputed leader of a group of kids who hung out together. They had kind of a bad reputation with the guys on the team - they didn't take part in school sports or other activities, they didn't like jocks, they smoked pot. I had pretty much given them the cold shoulder at school. However, (and I wouldn't have admitted this even to myself), I thought they were just about the best looking kids in school. Steve was a senior, about six foot tall, swimmer's build, longish dirty blond hair and deep brown eyes. He had a killer smile. His sidekicks were Rick (short for Eric), and Ryan. Rick was also a senior, tall, about 6' 3", lanky, with black hair worn relatively short and parted just off center. Rick had dark gray eyes, an earring and a goatee that made him look a little devilish. Ryan, another senior, was a muscular guy about 5' 11" and 175 pounds. Ryan had brown hair that he kept really short, hazel eyes and what I can only call chiseled features. Also hanging out with Steve usually was his little brother Scott, universally called Scotty. Scotty was a sophomore and smaller than the others. He had his brother's eyes and hair and would probably look pretty good in a couple of years but right now he just looked like a skate brat.
Sure enough, I could see Steve, Rick, Ryan and Scotty sitting on the bank of the stream near the bridge. I had walked up behind them when I stopped short. This was the same bridge that I could see when I was jerking off! I had been silhouetted against the sun and they could have seen me if they had been looking the right direction. Flustered, I decided to go on anyway. I called out, "I know you guys aren't supposed to be up here but I sure am glad to see you! What are you doing here?"
They turned and looked at me unenthusiastically. "Oh, hi, Cal. We're just helling around. What brings you to the middle of nowhere?" said Steve. His killer smile was nowhere in evidence but at least he showed no sign of having watched me beat my meat a few minutes earlier. I started to relax a little.
I could see that they were drinking beer and passing around a joint. I wasn't into pot (Just say no and all that) but I decided to ignore it. "Oh, I had to come up here on an errand and my car broke down up the road. I think it's the alternator. Do you guys know any way to patch that up?"
Ryan, who I knew was in auto shop and knew something about cars, said "Nope, you just have to replace it with a new one."
"That's what I thought," I said. "Then I sure could use a ride back to town."
Ryan shrugged. "You'll have to talk to Steve. It's his car."
I turned to Steve and said with what sounded even to me like a fake heartiness, "So, Steve, can I talk you into giving me a lift?"
"I don't know," Steve said slowly, "the Camaro is pretty crowded just with us. I don't know how I would fit in five."
"Come on, Steve. It's a long way down and it's supposed to get below freezing tonight."
"Well, can you pay for it?"
I fished around in my pockets and came up with $3. "Here's three dollars," I said, handing him the money, "It's all I have on me and it should be enough to pay for the gas."
"Well, okay," said Steve, "sit down until we're ready to leave."
I sat down on the edge of the old wooden bridge and tried to make conversation. It didn't go too well. It seems my presence had put a damper on the group. Steve wouldn't say anything. I knew Rick was in the photography club at school and I tried to start a conversation about that with him but he just answered monosyllabically. Ryan was at least courteous but I only really had a conversation with Scotty. I found out from him that the four of them often came up the logging roads since they knew no one would bother them. This spot was pretty far for them but they liked to take a swim in the stream. I helped myself to a couple of their beers since I had gotten thirsty on the walk down. I also tried the joint and, after a few coughs, found I was getting a pretty good beer/weed buzz.
After a while, Steve announced that it was time to leave. He turned to me and asked me for my $3. "Hey, I gave you the $3 already," I exclaimed.
"That $3 went for the beer and weed you helped yourself to," said Steve. "You drank and smoke more than $3 worth. You owe us $3 more for the ride."
It was probably true that I had drunk and smoked more than $3 worth (and I guess I should have been less grabby and asked first) but I didn't have another $3. "You know that was all I had. But I will give you another $3, no, $5, when I get home."
"No, I don't extend credit for gas money. The car would have been too crowded anyway. You can just keep walking."
"Okay, fine," I bluffed. "Just do me a favor when you get back to town. Call my parents and tell them where I am."
"Sure," said Steve, shrugging. "If I remember." He started walking toward the car. The others glanced at me and then followed Steve.
I realized that these guys really didn't like me. I guess they did resent jocks. "Steve!" I called after him, starting to panic, "it's getting late and it's supposed to get fucking cold tonight. There must be some sort of deal we can work out."
Steve turned to look at me. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "The four of us split the gas money for these trips. And it's all four of us who are going to be uncomfortable if you squeeze in the car. So you will have to make a deal with each of us to get our consent for you to ride along. If you can make a deal with these three, then you can come back and talk to me. And there's two conditions: First, its cash and carry; no credit. Second, all deals are final. If you make a deal with some but not all, you don't ride and you don't get to back out of the deals already made."
This didn't seem quite fair to me but there wasn't much I could do about it. I thought I would give it a shot. If I couldn't make acceptable deals then I would just have to start walking again. "Okay, I'm game," I said.
The four of them looked at each other and then silently sat down in a semicircle looking at me.
I decided to start with Scotty. I figured I had the best relationship with him. Besides, he was young and I could probably out-negotiate him pretty easily. "Hey, Scotty, you heard Steve," I said, "so let's make a deal."
"I like your jacket," Scotty said quickly.
"What?"
"I like your leather jacket," repeated Scotty.
"No ride is worth a leather jacket," I said.
"How about if I just borrow it for awhile, asked Scotty eagerly. "Say, a month?"
I thought about it. It was a real nice jacket but I could live without it for a while. It wasn't really costing me anything to loan it to Scotty. I was pretty sure I could get it back; I knew where Scotty lived (in our small town, everyone knew where everyone else lived) and I could always beat him up to get it back if I had to. So I said, "two weeks and we have a deal!"
"It's a deal if it starts now," said Scotty.
"Sold!" I said. I took off the jacket and handed it to Scotty. He looked ecstatic as he put it on. It was kind of cute to watch him; he seemed so excited. He started to stroke the leather on the sleeves. I felt pretty good about my bargaining skills. One down, and three to go, and it hadn't really cost me anything yet.
I turned next to Rick. Rick smiled at me and said, "I'm not settling for some kind of lease deal. Anything I get, I plan to keep."
"Well, what did you have in mind?"
Rick looked me up and down and finally said, "that's a nice watch."
I looked down at my wrist. It was a nice watch. It had been given to me on my eighteenth birthday. It had belonged to my grandfather; I wasn't giving it up. "No sale," I said flatly. "The watch was my grandfather's and it's not on the table. What else?"
Rick looked me up and down again and said, "what is your shoe size?"
"11 1/2."
"I am an 11. Hand them over and let me see if they fit."
I took off my shoes and handed them to Rick. "They're probably a little big," I said doubtfully as Rick slid off his own shoes and tried on mine.
"No. They fit fine," said Rick. "This is what I want."
I looked at my shoes on Rick's feet. My shoes were a good brand of running shoe but were getting a little ratty looking. I had been considering retiring them to the section of my closet I rarely visited. They would be no great loss. But what really did it for me was when I looked at Rick's old shoes. Rick's shoes were virtually falling apart and looked to be the WalMart house brand to begin with. I started to feel a little pity for Rick.
"So what do you say," said Rick. "Deal?"
"Okay, deal," I agreed. Rick reached out his hand and I shook it.
A thought struck me. "Can I have your old shoes, Rick?" I asked.
"No," said Rick. "The trade was for my consent to ride in the car, not for my old shoes." Rick stood up and walked over to the Camaro. He threw his old pair of shoes in the open trunk.
It was now time to tackle Ryan. I didn't feel too bad about my deals to date. Scotty hadn't really cost me anything and Rick only cost me an old pair of shoes. I started feeling kind of cocky.
I turned to where Ryan was sitting. "So, Ryan, can I interest you in a nice belt?" I asked. I started to pull out my belt to show it to him. It was a nice belt - leather with a heavy buckle.
"No, I have enough belts," Ryan said quietly, not looking at me.
"Well, you caught me at a time when I don't have much else to trade."
Ryan stood up and walked over next to me. "What is your waist size? You and I look about the same size."
We were about the same size though he had a little more upper body mass. "I have a 30" waist. I'm sure the belt would fit you."
"Forget the belt, Cal." Ryan looked me right in the eye and said, "I'd like your shirt and pants."
"Uh, gee, Ryan, that wouldn't leave me with much on," I said with a shaky laugh.
"That's what I want. Take it or leave it." Ryan looked at me slyly. "I don't think you have much choice. You need my vote to get a ride and I don't think you'll get far walking without any shoes."
Stricken, I glanced over at Rick. He winked at me. I realized I had made a critical error in trading away my shoes before completing my deal to get a ride. I couldn't walk far on these rough roads without shoes. I really didn't have a choice; I'd have to make some sort of deal with Ryan. But I decided to bluff it out. "I can't trade you my shirt and pants, Ryan. I need something left to trade Steve. Why don't you reconsider the belt," I said, holding it up for his review.
"Nothing doing," said Ryan. "Give me what I want or you're walking back to town in your socks. But you may find it a little cold without your jacket."
That was a good point. Why did I let myself trade away the two most crucial things to my survival? And I had been so proud of my negotiating ability. I guess I could blame it on my now rapidly disappearing buzz. I looked down at my clothes. I hadn't really dressed up for my trip today but, since it was for my dad's business, I had put on decent clothes. Also, I pride myself on usually looking pretty together. Today I was wearing some new khaki pants and a nice shirt. I glanced over at Ryan. He was wearing a tee shirt and some old jeans. It struck me that these were not particularly well off kids and my clothes would probably be the best things in Ryan's wardrobe. Again, a little pity welled up. Still I hesitated.
"Take it or leave it," Ryan said again. Then, more gently, he said, "you really don't have a choice."
He was right; I didn't have a choice. I now had to accept pretty much any deal to get down the mountain. And, realistically, for survival purposes, once I had given up my jacket and shoes, losing a lightweight shirt and thin pants probably wouldn't make much difference.
Reluctantly, I said, "you've got a deal."
"Fine," said Ryan, a little smile spreading across his face. "Strip."
I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. I kept waiting for one of the guys to say it was all just a joke. But no one said anything; they just watched me. I unbuttoned the top of my pants and pulled out my shirttails. I handed my shirt to Ryan. I unzipped my khakis and stepped out of them. What the hell, I thought. I undress in front of guys every day in gym. Yet it's a little different when you're the only one stripping and everyone else is fully clothed and gawking at you. However, it wasn't like I was nude or anything and I didn't feel I had anything to be ashamed of in the looks department.
"Here they are," I said, handing my pants to Ryan. "I left my keys and a comb in the pockets. Could you hold on to them until I get home?"
"Sure," Ryan said, smiling. "I can see you don't have any pockets."
I stood there in my white cotton Jockey briefs, tee shirt and socks and watched Ryan peel off his old jeans. He stood there in threadbare blue and white striped boxers and his tee shirt as he pulled on my pants. I could see that he must have really worked hard on his body. He had powerful legs and a strong chest and arms. He slipped my shirt on over his tee shirt and asked, "so how do I look?"
"Honestly," I said, "you look great." And he did. My clothes really set off his looks. Ryan looked pleased with the compliment.
"Uh, Ryan," I asked, "could I have your old pair of je-"
"No," Ryan said quickly. "You traded for my vote not my old clothes." He turned and grinned at Rick. Ryan then threw his jeans in the trunk of the car.
I was now back to Steve. I turned to where he had been sitting silently, watching the negotiations so far. I tried to look on the bright side. Things hadn't gone so badly. I had gotten the consent of the other three. So what if I had to sit in my underwear on the ride home. Who was going to see? All I had to do now was cut a deal with Steve and I was home.
Steve looked up at me and smiled for the first time. "I guess I shouldn't have gone last," he said. "Looks like you don't have much left to trade?"
I picked up my belt from where it was laying on the ground and held it out to him. "I still have the belt. You interested?"
Steve barely glanced at the belt as he took it from me. "Sure, I'll take the belt," he said, "but I'll need something more."
"Like what?" I asked suspiciously.
Steve laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "I don't want your used underwear."
"Well, I don't have much else," I said.
"I want that watch," he said calmly.
"No," I said, equally calmly. "I said it's not for sale and I mean it. Think of something else.
Steve sat still, just staring at me, for what must have been close to a minute. I started feeling uncomfortable, particularly since you feel kind of vulnerable in just your underwear.
Finally, Steve spoke. "Okay. I accept that. I have one final offer. Take it or leave it."
"What is your offer?" I asked.
"This won't cost you anything. It will just make the long drive home more interesting. With five in my Camaro, it's going to be real crowded. We're going to have to stop a number of times just to stretch our legs. To give it a little interest, Rick, Ryan, Scotty and I will each have a stop at which you will have to do anything that person tells you to do."
I looked suspiciously at Steve. "Anything?"
"Anything that person can think of," Steve replied. "Like truth or dare without the truth part."
Truthfully, this sounded pretty juvenile to me. I was sure there would be some humiliation or another involved at each stop but, after all, I was already standing around in my underwear. How much worse could it get? Besides, what choice did I have. This would get me home.
"I accept," I said finally.
"Good," said Steve, smiling. "Let's go home."
The five of us headed towards the car. Steve stopped to rummage around in the trunk and called me over. "Cal, hold your hands out in front of you, palms together," Steve told me.
"Why?" I asked as I held out my hands.
Steve pulled a length of rope out of the trunk and started to tie my hands together. "Because you're a pretty muscular guy," he said, flashing his killer smile. "I want to make sure you're just as agreeable at each stop as you are now."
This seemed unnecessary to me but it was a little late to complain as he was finishing up his knots. Then Steve thought of something. "Hey, Scotty, want Cal's belt?"
"You bet," said Scotty, taking the belt from Steve and putting it through the belt loops on his cargo shorts. "Thanks a lot, Steve!" It occurred to me that maybe he ought to be thanking me but I decided to let it slide.
As we were about to climb into the car, Steve said, "Oh, Cal, thanks for the show earlier."
I said, "what show?"
"Your show up the hill earlier. You know, when you were jerking off!" replied Steve.
"We particularly enjoyed it when you started rubbing your balls and butt," added Rick, playfully swatting me on my briefs clad ass.
"Of course, we didn't know it was you until you walked up a few minutes later," said Steve. All four of them grinned at me as I felt like I wanted to sink down beneath the pavement.
My face was burning as I quickly clambered into the back seat of the Camaro. As I sat down I realized that Steve had been right; it was damn crowded in that car. Steve drove and Rick took the other front seat, and it wasn't too bad for them. But the back seat didn't really have a middle seat; it was just a barely padded area over the drivetrain hump. Of course, this was the seat I got. I was jammed in between Scotty on my left and Ryan on my right. I almost laughed when I realized I was sitting between my clothes: My jacket and belt to my left and my shirt and pants to my right. I would have been a lot more amused if I wasn't so embarrassed and wasn't so worried about what I had gotten myself into.
Chapter Two
It was pretty uncomfortable in the back of that old Camaro. I had traded away my jacket, my shirt, my belt, my pants and my shoes for this ride and now I sat jammed in the middle of the back seat in just my briefs, tee shirt and socks. Oh, and with my hands tied in front of me.
No one said much on the drive. Steve concentrated on driving the tricky road. Scotty seemed lost in his thoughts and Rick looked like he had fallen asleep. Ryan tried to strike up a little conversation with me about school but I was pissed off about having my hands tied so I was kind of short with him. He went silent too. After what didn't seem all that long, Steve announced that Scotty would have the first stop and asked where he wanted to stop. Scotty said he didn't care, anyplace would do. I started to wonder what Scotty might want to do with me.
After a few more miles, Steve pulled the car over at a wide spot in the road and we all got out to stretch our legs. "Okay, Scotty," said Steve, "you take Cal back into the woods and have him do anything you want. We'll wait here. Don't be too long!"
"He'll do anything?" Scotty asked, looking sideways at me.
"Sure," said Steve. "That's what he agreed to. Isn't that right, Cal?"
"Yes. I agreed to do anything you told me," I said slowly.
"So go knock yourself out, Scotty," said Steve. "How often do you have a senior at your beck and call!"
Scotty grinned and, picking up the end of the rope like a leash, started to lead me into the woods.
"Wait a sec," called Steve. He came up to me and removed my watch from my wrist. As he put it on his own, he said "I just want to keep it safe and sound. I'll give it back when you get home. Probably."
"You better give it back," I muttered as Scotty led me away.
We walked until we were out of sight of the car. Despite my lack of shoes, it wasn't too bad walking because there was a thick carpet of leaves on the ground.
"Okay, far enough, Cal," said Scotty. He stopped at a large tree that had an outstretched limb about nine feet off the ground. Scotty looked up at the tree and then hesitated. "You know, the others can't see us," said Scotty. "If you don't want to go through with this, we can just wait a few minutes and then head back to the car."
This was a tempting offer and I thought about it for a moment. The problem would be if the other guys found out that I had bailed on Scotty. Would they take the position that I had reneged on the deal and leave me behind? It seemed like the better course was just to go ahead. After all, Scotty was just a kid, what could he have dreamed up to do to me? . It couldn't be too bad, I figured. "No, a deal is a deal," I said. "I'm willing to live up to my agreement."
"Okay," shrugged Scotty. "Don't say I didn't give you a choice."
It took a little doing but Scotty was able to throw the end of the rope over the tree limb. He pulled it down and tied it off, yanking my bound arms straight into the air above my head. I almost had to stand on my toes. Scotty looked at his handiwork and seemed satisfied. He carefully took off the leather jacket and set it aside. Then he started looking at me.
Scotty went behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. He then slowly brought his hands down my back. He pulled out my tee shirt from where it was tucked into my jockeys and reached his hands under the shirt to feel my abs. He moved his hands up my chest to my pecs where he stopped to play with my tits. He touched them with the tips of his index fingers and then traced around them with a circular motion as they became erect. Scotty then withdrew his hands from under my tee shirt and felt my butt cheeks through the thin material of my briefs. He moved around in front of me and pulled out the waistband to peer down at my equipment. "What do we have here?" Scotty giggled.
I started thinking that this wasn't going to be too bad. He was just going to feel me up a bit and we could be on our way. Then, without warning, Scotty reached down and squeezed my balls. I yelped (more in surprise than pain since he didn't squeeze very hard) and Scotty reached up and gave me a slap across the face. "No sounds out of you," Scotty ordered.
The next thing he did surprised me even more. Scotty reached into his pocket and unfolded his pocket knife. He held the point up and said, "we're not going to speak unless spoken to, right?" I nodded silently.
Scotty then reached the knife under my tee shirt and ran the flat of the blade down my chest from my collarbone to my waistband. I barely breathed but he was careful not to touch me with the edge. He then used the knife to tear my tee shirt all the way down the front. A few more cuts with the blade and my tee shirt was in ribbons on the ground. Then to my relief he folded up the knife and put it back in his pocket.
Scotty pulled off his sweatshirt. He wasn't wearing anything underneath and I could see that his chest, while not overly muscular, had nice definition. He pulled his belt (formerly my belt) out of his cargo shorts and put it aside. He then slipped off his shorts and stood there only in red plaid boxers, socks and shoes. He looked to be about 5'9", maybe 140 pounds. With his blond hair and all, he was actually a pretty cute kid.
Scotty picked up a branch from the ground and walked back behind me. He lightly flicked the branch across my shoulders a couple of times. Then a stinging blow landed on my back. I gasped. "I said no sounds!" Scotty growled. A series of further blows landed on my back and then on my butt. The thin material of my jockeys was little protection. The fusillade stopped for a moment and then even that protection was taken away when Scotty pulled my briefs down to my knees.
Scotty dropped the branch and picked up the belt. He started laying into my back with it. He would alternate light touches with heavier ones in a random pattern. But I noticed that he was not using the buckle end and, while it hurt, I think Scotty was being careful not to whip me hard enough to inflict any real damage.
Scotty's next barrage was on my bare ass. I didn't protest because, after all, I had agreed to all of this. Also, I didn't want Steve, Rick and Ryan to come running; I didn't want my classmates to see me being humiliated by this kid.
Scotty then stopped with the belt and started paddling my ass with his bare hand. He kept up a rhythm: first one cheek, then the other cheek, then across the middle. He kept that up for quite a while, making the blows come heavier and faster as he went along. Every third or so set he would reach under and give my balls a light twist. Finally, out of breath, he stopped paddling my poor ass and came around in front of me. I could see his hard dick poking through the slit in his boxers. What shocked me is that I was sporting wood too; this was all turning me on!
Scotty slipped out of his boxers, exposing a hard 5-1/2 inch cock and a bubble butt. He walked right up to me and grabbed my 6 inch boner. He held it together with his own and started masturbating the two of us together in his right hand. With his left hand he tweaked and pinched my tits. Scotty was quite gentle as he rubbed our two dicks together. I had never had another man's cock that close to mine before. I started moaning a little as I got close to coming. Scotty then dropped my dick to concentrate on his own. He came pretty fast, considerately turning away so as not to spurt all over me. He then started stroking my shaft again. He was pretty good at it, concentrating on the sensitive head. In no time, I blew my load. Scotty finished milking me until I became soft. Then he thrust his hand, covered with a mixture of both of our cum, in my face. "Lick it clean," he ordered. I started slurping at his hand. He stuck each finger one by one into my mouth to suck clean. I had never tasted cum before. It was kind of salty but not bad.
When he was satisfied with the cleanliness of his hand, Scotty put his clothes back on. Then he pulled my briefs back up and untied the rope from the tree. "That was great," he said, "and thanks a lot. I'll never forget it." I had more mixed feelings. I was starting to realize I had enjoyed Scotty's activities!
Scotty led me by my bound wrists through the woods back to the car. It was after sunset now and getting dark. Steve, Rick and Ryan were lounging against the Camaro. They watched us walk up. I was careful to keep my back to them because I didn't want them to see any marks left by Scotty.
"So how was it, Scotty," asked Ryan. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
"It was okay, I guess" shrugged Scotty.
"Hey, what happened to his tee shirt?" asked Rick, noticing that I was now bare-chested.
"Uh, I guess he lost it someplace," said Scotty lamely.
"Pretty careless of you, Cal", said Rick, as he winked at Scotty.
Steve was looking at Scotty's shoes. "You know, your shoes got pretty dusty walking through the woods."
"So?" said Scotty.
"So, why don't you have Cal here clean them for you?"
"Can I?" asked Scotty.
"Sure," said Steve. "It's still your stop."
Rick, being helpful, put his hand on the back of my neck and pushed me down to my knees in front of Scotty's shoes. I tried to dust them off as best I could with bound hands.
"Not with your hands, Cal, with your tongue," snickered Steve.
I gave him a dirty look but then bent my head down to lick Scotty's shoes. It didn't take too long because I had already gotten a lot of the dust off with my hands. Fortunately, no one suggested that I clean the soles. However, I didn't like the taste of dirt and I didn't like the guys seeing me on my knees, dressed only in briefs and socks, licking Scotty's shoes.
Ryan must have noticed my back when I was kneeling because he looked closely at it after I stood up. Rick then wandered over and also looked at Scotty's handiwork.
"I'll bet it's on his ass as well," said Rick as he yanked down the back of my underpants.
I looked behind me to see Rick, Ryan, Steve and Scotty all apparently transfixed by the sight of my red ass. Scotty had also turned red. Each of them was now tentatively touching the marks Scotty had made with the belt.
"Bend over so we can see better," ordered Rick, pushing my head down.
"Well, no real harm done," observed Ryan quietly after a moment. "There won't be any permanent marks. But I'll bet it's sore for a while."
I was mortified to have my ass hanging out there on display. I tried to pull the back of my briefs up but Rick pushed my bound hands away. I knew I was blushing beet red.
Steve eventually broke the spell. "Well, we can't spend all day here," he said briskly. "Scotty, you animal, pull Cal's drawers up. Everybody, back into the car. Ryan, your turn is next. Figure out where you want to stop."
We climbed back into the car. The back seat hump I was sitting on was even more uncomfortable now. Scotty said nothing. Ryan refused to make eye contact with me. My face remained as red as my ass.
Chapter Three
"Where do you want to stop, Ryan?" asked Steve after we had been driving a while.
"That old broken down shack," replied Ryan. "You know the one, we've been there."
"Yeah, yeah, I know where you mean. Good choice," said Steve.
I had no idea where they meant but it had gotten to the point that I was almost looking forward to the next stop. I was extremely uncomfortable sitting in the back seat of the Camaro. I was dressed only in my Jockey briefs and socks since I had traded away the rest of my clothes for a ride home. My hands were bound in front of me to ensure my compliance with my agreement to do what they told me at each stop. I kept shifting my weight from butt cheek to butt cheek because my ass was sore from the activities at the last stop.
At the next stop, it would be Ryan's turn to order me around. I didn't know what Ryan might dream up but I would just as soon he not have the same S&M fantasies as Scotty. However, Ryan was starting to make me nervous. He had been avoiding eye contact with me but now, all of a sudden, he was eyeing me speculatively. I started to feel a bit like a piece of meat.
After a number of miles, the car stopped at a wide spot in the empty logging road. We all got out of the car. It felt good to stretch my legs. While the others waited at the car, Ryan motioned me to walk ahead of him on a barely visible trail leading from the road. It was a moonlit night so I could see pretty well but the terrain was kind of rough without shoes.
Ryan had me walk in front of him rather than lead me on the rope like Scotty had. It was getting pretty chilly so I moved quickly. I wondered if Ryan was watching my backside as I walked.
After a couple hundred yards, we reached a small, dilapidated cabin. It obviously hadn't been occupied in many years. Ryan forced open the door (it was warped, not locked) and we walked in. Ryan rummaged around and found some candles and matches. He lit the candles and I could see around the cabin. It was only one room and showed some signs of recent activity. There was an old mattress, some empty beer bottles and food wrappers and a number of used condoms on the floor. It looked like this was the local make-out spot.
There was even some kindling in the fireplace and, while I was concerned that the whole place might burn down, Ryan got a nice fire going. While I got warm, Ryan continued to search the cabin. I could see Ryan put aside some nylon rope he found.
"Okay, let's get a look at you," said Ryan, smiling. I noticed that while you rarely saw it, Ryan had rather a sweet smile.
I stood at attention before Ryan. He looked me up and down and then right in the eye for a few seconds. Then he gently ran his fingers through my hair. He slowly moved his hands down my body to my hips. He hesitated a second and then pulled my Jockeys down to my ankles. I stepped out of them and was nude except for my socks. Ryan crouched and took a close up look at my dick and my balls. He turned me around and examined my butt. "I was right," said Ryan, "Scotty's marks have already almost completely disappeared." I was glad to hear that though my ass still felt kind of sore. Then Ryan noticed I was favoring my left foot.
"What's wrong with your foot?" asked Ryan.
"I don't know. I think I stepped on something on the trail," I said.
"Okay. Sit down on the mattress," ordered Ryan.
I did as he said. Ryan knelt and pulled off my socks to examine my feet.
"It's a thorn," said Ryan, pulling it out of the sore foot. Ryan then started to massage my foot. He used both hands and was really getting into it. It felt pretty good but then, all of a sudden, Ryan blushed, dropped my foot and stood up. "Let's get down to business. Stand up," he said somewhat gruffly.
As I stood up, Ryan picked up the nylon rope. He tied one end on the inside of my balls and the other to the far end of the cabin. He then untied my hands. "I've untied your hands but if you try to run for it, you'll pull off your balls."
Why did he bother, I thought to myself. Where was I going to go? But it felt good to be able to swing my arms.
"Now take off my clothes," said Ryan, standing directly in front of me.
I reached out and unbuttoned his (formerly my) shirt. I moved behind Ryan and pulled it off his back. I then folded it and put it down on a table on the side of the room. I reached down and unbuttoned his khaki pants. I knelt to slip off his shoes and then, still kneeling, reached up to unzip the pants. I carefully lowered them as Ryan stepped out of the legs. I looked up at Ryan, now dressed only in blue and white boxers, white socks and a white tee shirt. I stood up to take the pants over to the side table. I then pulled Ryan's tee shirt off over his head. I stopped to take a good look at him. Even in the flickering light, I could see he was a fine looking guy. Ryan had broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. A line of fine hairs led from large, squared off pecs through a perfect six pack to disappear beneath his boxers. He looked like he didn't have an ounce of body fat on him.
"Umm, Ryan, may I ask you a question?" I said.
"Depends what it is."
"Do you work out a lot?"
"Yeah, almost every day. But on a different muscle group each day. I have an old free weight set at my home."
"That's great," I said. "I work out on the crappy equipment at school."
"My weights aren't much better," said Ryan, "but you're welcome to come over and use them. Any time. I'll be glad to help you train."
"Gee, thanks a lot. I really appreciate it. I'll take you up on that."
I reached down to take off Ryan's boxers. "No," Ryan said, "not with your hands."
I knelt down and grabbed the waistband of his boxers with my teeth. I pulled them about halfway down his crotch, my lips brushing his pubic hair. I released his waistband when my chin ran into Ryan's half hard dick on the way down. I then crawled around behind Ryan and grabbed the rear of his boxers with my mouth. It felt like I was kissing his ass as I pulled his boxers the rest of the way down to the floor. Ryan kicked them over to me with a smile. I caught them and took a good look at his nude body. Ryan had a nice uncircumcised dick and big low hanging balls. He had a large firm butt on top of powerful hairy legs. He was a damn good looking guy!
I started to feel a stirring in my own dick while looking at Ryan. Surprised and a little embarrassed, I jumped up to put Ryan's boxers with his other clothes on the side table. I put them down neatly and as I turned back to face Ryan, he stepped forward and planted a big kiss on my lips. He embraced me and I felt his nude body press up against mine. As he ran his hands up and down my back, I felt something unmistakably hard press against my midsection. Was Ryan GAY? I had thought Ryan was just planning to have some fun ordering me around and maybe get his rocks off with the only available person. But the passion of Ryan's kiss suggested some deeper feelings. Shocked, I didn't reciprocate Ryan's kiss but just stood there like a statue.
Ryan stepped back and looked at me in surprise. He had a raging hard-on. It looked to be a little longer than 7 inches and quite thick. I must have looked like an idiot standing there with my mouth open, dumbfounded. Ryan blushed bright red, then quickly turned his back to me.
"I'm sorry, man. It's okay. You just took me by surprise," I babbled. I felt bad; I was starting to like Ryan.
"No matter," said Ryan, coldly, still with his back to me. "Kneel on the floor!"
I got down on my knees. Ryan thrust his butt in my face. "I didn't clean up real good after my last crap," said Ryan. "Lick it clean."
"No, Ryan, I don't want to do that," I pleaded. "Don't ask me to do that."
"Did I hear someone talk back? If I heard someone talk back, that someone's ass is going to get sore all over again!"
"Okay, okay," I said as I leaned into Ryan's ass. There was a slight musky smell. Ryan had a fair amount of hair in his crack and a light tracing of hair on his cheeks. I searched out his puckered asshole. I gingerly stuck out my tongue and swirled it around his hole. Ryan must have been kidding about not cleaning up because he was clean as a whistle down there. I then remembered that he had been swimming earlier in the afternoon as well. With a little more confidence, I flicked his hole with my tongue. I could feel Ryan shudder a little. I tried a circular motion for a while and then tried to push my tongue into his tight hole. Ryan was breathing heavily. I swirled my tongue around a little more. Finally, he croaked out, "that's enough. Stop now!"
I pulled my tongue out of Ryan's ass. He turned around. His hard-on was angry red and throbbing. Ryan struggled to get himself under control for a few moments.
"Suck my dick," Ryan then commanded. I licked the precum which was oozing from his slit. Then I placed my lips around the head of Ryan's cock. I was careful not to use my teeth. While exerting a sucking force on his shaft, I swirled my tongue around the head, under the foreskin and in the small slit. Ryan moaned. I expect he was a little surprised how good I was at this but while I had never licked ass before, I did have some experience in sucking dick. Back in junior high school, I had fooled around a little with my best friend. It was mainly jerking each other off but we had graduated to giving each other blow jobs until we had become uncomfortable and stopped the whole thing.
"Grab my butt," moaned Ryan. I reached behind him and grabbed a couple handfuls of ass. Damn, he had a muscular butt; they were buns of steel all right. I started massaging each cheek, kneading it like dough. I could feel my own dick rising straight up. Then I thought I saw from the corner of my eye a flicker of movement at the cabin window. I started to look but Ryan hoarsely ordered me to keep my mind on business. I removed my mouth from Ryan's cock and gently nibbled on his balls. I took one and then the other into my mouth. I then started sucking on the head of his dick again. I was tracing his furry crack with my finger when Ryan straightened and I knew he was going to explode. He started bucking his hips, shooting what seemed like gallons of semen into my mouth.
"Don't swallow it. Keep it in your mouth!" Ryan ordered. I held it in my mouth while he finished spurting and withdrew his now soft dick. Ryan then dropped to his knees and once again kissed me. Ryan suctioned his jism out of my mouth into his and swallowed it. I was astonished; this guy was full of surprises.
"That's a snowball!" announced Ryan with a goofy, cum filled grin.
"What?"
"That's what they call it. A snowball. When you suck back your own cum and swallow it."
I just looked at him. Then Ryan ordered me to clean up his mouth and dick. I knew what that meant. I licked the cum from around his lips and then swirled my tongue around the inside of his open mouth. When I had gotten the remaining cum, I knelt and took his now flaccid cock in my mouth. I sucked it clean. Satisfied, Ryan looked down and noticed that I was fully erect.
"Jack yourself off. I'm ready to see it up close this time," said Ryan.
I took my member in my hand as Ryan lay down on the mattress to watch. I ran my left hand up and down the shaft, using the precum for a little lubrication.
"Rub your ass like you did up on the hillside," ordered Ryan. "And your balls." He was idly playing with himself as he watched me intently.
I stroked my balls with my right hand. I then reached around and rubbed my ass cheeks and crack. My dick was pulsating and I straightened up. I soon felt the familiar rush as I came. I kept stroking until I was soft.
"I liked it better last time," said Ryan with an air of disappointment. "It was more leisurely. Oh well, fun's over. We better get back to the car." Ryan stood up and started pulling his clothes back on. I realized I was a little disappointed that he was now covering up his great body.
When he was dressed, Ryan ordered me to put my arms behind my back. He then started to tie my hands together.
"Why are you retying my hands behind my back rather than in front?" I asked.
"I don't know. Maybe I think it looks sexier," replied Ryan. Ryan then untied the nylon rope from around my balls. I breathed a sigh of relief. Ryan pointed down at the cum I had shot onto the floor of the cabin. "Clean up your mess before we go. You know how."
I knelt on the floor and lowered my mouth to the pool of jism on the floor. I licked it up and stood up. Ryan opened the door and motioned me out.
"Hey, Ryan, put my shorts back on before we go," I urged.
"No," said Ryan. "You get them back when we reach the car, not before."
"But Ryan, I don't want the guys to see me buck naked like this."
"Tough," said Ryan and he stuffed my balled up underwear into my mouth. Then he pushed me ahead of him out the door.
We walked back along the trail towards the road. I knew I was going to get shit from Steve and Rick when they saw me nude back at the car. They didn't know what I was doing at these stops and I was still trying to maintain some sort of dignity in front of them. I had more than that to think about, however. Was Ryan gay? More importantly, was I gay? I had always thought of myself as basically straight. I was still a virgin but I had dated girls and liked them. My experiences with guys were long ago and I had put them down to youthful experimentation. But there was no denying that I had been turned on by Ryan's body. I was confused.
When we were just in sight of the car, Ryan took pity on me and told me to stop. He took my briefs out of my mouth and held them out for me to step into. He pulled them up and gave me a playful slap on the butt. Then he took my socks out of his pocket and as I held up each leg in turn, he pulled them on. We then proceeded to the car.
When we got to the car, Rick, sitting in the front seat, opened the door and pulled the seatback forward to allow Ryan and me to get in. There wasn't much room and with my hands tied behind my back, I ended up falling into the back seat. Ryan jumped into his seat and tried to maneuver me around. I'm pretty big and with my hands behind my back, I was pretty awkward to move around. Scotty and Ryan pushed and pulled but I ended up jackknifed with my head between Scotty's knees and my butt in Ryan's lap. My legs were squashed against the floorboards.
"Can't you sit him up?" asked Steve in an exasperated tone.
"No," said Ryan. "He can't help himself with his arms tied behind him and he won't fit in the seat."
"Fine. He can ride that way until Rick's stop." Steve put the car in gear and we took off. I realized that in that exchange, no one had addressed a question or answer to me. It seemed to me that as the ride went on, the guys were thinking of me less as a person and more as an object. This disturbed me.
What disturbed me more was when Rick reached into the back seat and rubbed my hair. Then he announced, "I know where I want to stop, Steve. I think I have something pretty interesting planned for our friend Cal." I didn't like Rick's accompanying little smirk. I had a funny feeling that whatever "interesting" thing Rick had planned, it might not be something I was going to enjoy.
TO BE CONTINUED
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