I opened my eyes to darkness. "Strange," I thought, "I couldn't have slept that long." I had gotten up early to clear some brush on my property, and had worked hard for several hours through the morning and into the early afternoon as the temperature and humidity rose. I had finished the work outside by one o'clock, put the tools away, guzzled two beers with a light lunch, took a quick shower and flopped onto the bed to nap for an hour or two. Had thought of jerkin' off, but was too beat to beat it. Would revisit that idea when I woke up.
I was awake now, and even in those confused few seconds between sleep and wakefulness, I pressed my hard-on into the mattress, and the resulting ripple of sensuality caused me to remember that pre-nap need for a JO session. But the flexing let me know something else, and I was immediately more than wide awake. I couldn't move! While I normally slept sprawled out across the bed, I now became frighteningly aware that the spread eagle position in which I found myself was not a natural one. Only when I tried to bolt upright did I find that my ankles and wrists were tied, stretched and somehow attached to the corners of the bed. Panic set in, but no amount of thrashing about loosened the restraints. It was through the jerking movements of trying to free myself that I also realized my head was covered with some sort of cloth sack. Yelling and cursing did nothing but perhaps relieve some of the incredible tension I was feeling. I knew the noise wouldn't draw my neighbors' attention. They lived too far away. Who did this? How did it happen? WHY did it happen? And then suddenly the rather obvious thought hit, "Someone's in the house!"
I talked to the anonymous presence, placing all the bravado into my voice that I could muster under the circumstances, but got no response. My ears became my only receptors for external stimuli. I became very still and simply listened, but could hear only my own pounding heart and rapid breathing. I could not hear or sense the presence of anyone else in the room. I tried to breathe deeply, sought a least a level of calm that would allow me to think. Whoever did this must have entered the house through the sliding glass door. I had left that open to catch whatever breeze wafted by, and I knew the other two doors to the house were locked. Had I been watched as I worked on the property? Was this planned or random? Just as I was facing the possibility that I might die, I felt it. At first I though an insect had landed on my back. As I twitched and jerked to try to get rid of the pest, my heightened senses brought an awareness of the metallic nature of the beast on my back. It felt like the point of a knife. Amazing how quickly a cold sweat can break out! Still I heard nothing.
As lightly and deftly as the legs of a ladybug, that knife point moved between my shoulder blades, across and down my back, up along the right side of my rib cage and into my arm pit. The situation was at once desperate and dangerous, yet the soft caressing--even with that metallic blade--made me aware that my cock was throbbing, partially from the need to get rid of the two beers I had with lunch and partially from the eroticism of the caressing.
Without a sound, the knife left my upper body and next made its presence known on my left foot. It made its way up my calf, lingering and tickling the insides of both thighs before, like butterfly wings, working its way across the globes of my ass. By this time, I was so turned on, I was unashamedly humping the bed, even as I tried to push thoughts of death from my mind. As quietly as it had arrived, the knife point left. Within seconds, however, a hand gloved with latex, I think, reached up between my legs and pulled my very hard cock down so it was pointing toward the foot of the bed. Another hand pulled my balls away from the base of my cock and began to wrap a length of rope tightly around the upper part of the scrotum, stretching the sack and making my dick even harder.
Then nothing. For what seemed like half an hour, nothing happened. I had almost begun to hope I was now alone, when a warm stream of liquid began to cover my back, ass and legs. The smell told me I was being pissed on. My mind told me I should be disgusted, but my body reacted with renewed passion. The latex gloved hand returned and began to feel my ass muscles, fingers gliding down the valley to the opening. Still wet with piss, spit was added and a finger was inserted, rotated and removed. A weight moved onto the end of the bed. I braced myself, confident that I knew what was coming. There was no finesse. There was no easing in. The weight settled onto me even as he rammed his dick into my ass--his pubes against my skin in one swift move. I tried to wrench away, but held by ropes and the rapist's weight, that effort was pointless. As my body adjusted to the invasion, as I stopped fighting and clenching, as I relaxed--dare I admit that I started to enjoy the feelings I w as experiencing? My cock was still rock hard. The thrusts continued, increasing in intensity, until with a grunt---the only verbal sound I had heard during the entire afternoon--my attacker unloaded his balls into my gut. He pulled out and got off the bed. I didn't hear him leave the room. After a few minutes a weight again depressed the foot of the bed. With no preliminaries, a hard dick was embedded in my ass and pounding. Back for seconds? But then, unexpectedly because I thought there was only one person involved, a tongue was licking my throbbing dick and balls and licking between my balls and asshole which was again being fucked. The second fucker was doing a job on my prostate, which when combined with the tongue action, set me off. I exploded and my ass muscles clenched, sending fucker number two over the edge. Before he pulled out, this second fucker emptied his bladder in my ass, giving me a full, warm feeling.
I felt both of the other bodies leave the bed, but did not hear them leave the room. Suddenly the knife point was back. Again---panic. This time it did not caress. The point rested on my upper right ass cheek. The pressure increased, and as the knife broke through the skin, I screamed. The cuts were painful, but not deep. I had only begun to dare to hope that I would live through the day, when a liquid soaked rag was clamped over the cloth sack in front of my face. As I was fading out, I realized that my attackers had probably used the same liquid to enable them to tie me to the bed. I went to sleep in a warm embrace as I released the beers I had been holding for too long.
When I woke, I was no longer tied. My body ached from straining against the ropes, and my ass hurt. Hobbling to a mirror in the bathroom, I saw that a one inch Greek letter, lambda--symbol for homosexuality, had been incised on my upper right ass cheek. It was already scabbing over and would leave a scar. Why was it done? Why had the rape happened? No answers. Looking back on the experience, parts of it had definitely been erotic!
I returned to the bedroom to change the bedding and noticed a printed business card on the nightstand. It contained only the word, "Later," and a Greek lambda.