Date: Fri, 1 May 2020 14:39:15 -0500 From: Jeff Moses Subject: Kyle's In Trouble This is a work of fiction. It includes scenes of BDSM sex among teen boys. No resemblance to persons living or dead is intended. If you are underage, or if possession of this text is illegal in your area, leave now. Some of the activities described in this story may cause injury or transmit diseases, including HIV. Please play safe--I don't want to lose any fans! If you enjoy this site, be cool and click the "Donate" link at the top of the index and contribute to maintain it! (Nifty is a 501-c-3 non-profit organization.) Looking for more of my stories? I'm honored. Look for "Jeff Moses" on Nifty's Prolific Authors page. And feedback is always welcome! Authors retain rights to and title to their submitted works. (Please consult Nifty's submission guidelines for more information.) KYLE'S IN TROUBLE --AND SO AM I Oh, boy! We got caught! It was bad luck, plain and simple! There's a hole in the side of the garage. It's been there since forever, probably, but Kyle's neighbor decided to dig out all the Virginia creeper or whatever it was that had been blocking it, and the guy next door saw us! Kyle and I have this thing we do Tuesday nights while his Dad's out bowling in the garage -- I mean we're in the garage, not his Dad. Anyhow, a while back we discovered that Kyle's into tough-guy stuff, putting up with being whipped and tortured and fucked in the butt to prove he's all man and not a sissy and ... Let me start again. It started when I convinced Kyle we could make a little money selling pictures of him tied up and stuff. And it turns out that he likes getting whipped, and things like that. Don't ask me why, because neither one of us has a clue, really. Except there's this: I'm the only guy he does it with. I've been in love with Kyle since sixth grade. I told him and he sort of freaked out, but after a while things got back to how they were, but I didn't dare say it again. He's straight, he insists. Dates girls and everything. A-level athlete, Student Council, too. Anyhow, he set up this workout space in his garage, with a chinning bar and a weight bench, that he uses after school for actual workouts and Tuesday nights for messing around with me. For example, he gets naked and I lock his wrists to the chains that hold up the chinning bar, and he stands on this piece of plywood with rings mounted on it to hold his legs apart, and I put this rusty metal collar round his neck and whip him. And we rigged up a sort of rack with some boards on top of his weight bench and a hook on the wall and some pulleys so I could stretch him out. And I got a butt plug and some dildos from a website so I -- we, actually -- could play with his ass, which it turned out he liked, so I tried fucking his ass, and he really likes that. But he's straight. And somebody saw us. We were doing our regular Tuesday night thing, with a few wrinkles. For one, I had Kyle stand on a couple of bricks while I secured his wrists to the chinning bar chains, then took the bricks away and tied out his feet, so he was barely able to support himself on his toes. We've got this signal, "cashmere sweater," that he can use if things get too intense, but he really hates to use it, because it's almost like "I give," and Kyle's too much of a man to say that. (Well, he did say it once, so far, but ...) Anyhow, he's stretched out pretty good, and I go after the insides of his thighs with my belt, starting just above his knees. Left leg, right leg, left leg, back and forth working my way up very slowly but so he knows where I'm headed. I don't even count the blows: it's all about the climb to just below his balls. Then I stop, and walk away, nice and slow, and grab a weight and a piece of rope, and walk back holding them up. "We're going for a pound, tonight," I tell him. "I can take it, fucker!" I kneel in front of him, resisting the urge to suck his meat, and tie the weight in place so it's hanging down about four inches or so from his balls -- enough to get a decent swing. Then I do another slow walk to our toy box and return with the riding crop. I start at the bottom again, light taps on the right leg, then taps on the left leg, back and forth. The riding crop can be nasty -- I tried it on my own body once, just to see, and that mother stings! So I go pretty easy, just enough to make him twitch so the weight gets to swinging. I can tell by the way he's breathing that he's starting to feel it. After a few minutes, his eyes are squeezed shut and his nostrils are flaring. I like to keep him right there as long as I can. I'm getting better at it. But just at the moment when I think he's going to say something, I stop. Before he opens his eyes, I'm behind him, and I'm using the crop on his ass. It's already tight, because of the way he's stretched, and the weight swings wild and he kind of squeaks, and then he growls, "Fuck you, asshole! That all you got? You're a pansy!" Which is Kyle-speak for "I want more!" I move up tight behind him and jam my fingers into his mouth. "Get 'em wet, boy!" I growl, and he does, and I pull them out and add a little spit of my own and jam my third and fourth fingers into his asshole. "Queer!" he shouts, and at the same time he tries to get my fingers further in. (But he's straight!) I give him a nice internal massage, and then a nice spanking, and then I decide it's time to tease his asshole some more. That's when we see the flash. "Did you set up a camera?" Kyle gasps. "Fuck no!" "That was a camera flash -- I know it!" "Where!?" I yank my hand out and spin around, looking for a camera, or something, or maybe a window where the paper's come off. "There's a hole!" Kyle yells. "In the wall!" and he's shaking his head like he's trying to throw his eyes at it. I run over to the wall. "Lower! To the right -- left, I mean! To the --" "I found it!" I'm trying to decide if I should try to look through it when we hear a knock. "Oh, shit!" Kyle whispers, and we both stand frozen still, listening. Another knock. "Might as well open up, boys," a voice says. "I got the picture." "Shit!" I say. Kyle nods agreement. "Better get him in here so we know what we're dealing with," he whispers. "Are you sure?" "Go!" Kyle snaps. Kyle's still tied hand and foot. I hope he doesn't expect me to take the guy on. But I sigh, "If you say so," and head for the door. Behind me, he's straining to see, but he's facing exactly the wrong way. Deep breath. Unlatch door. Brace for ... who knows what. The knob turns and a guy walks in and quickly shuts and latches the door. "Nice," he says, and walks right past me. "Hi, Kyle," he says, and grabs Kyle's hair from behind. "What the fuck, Ben! Get your hands --" "Introduce me!" "This is Ben, Andy. He's in college." "Hi," I say, really uncomfortable. Ben turns to me. "Hi, Andy," he says, as if there's nothing out of the ordinary going on. "I'm Kyle's neighbor." "Hi," I repeat. What's a guy supposed to say, right? "Did I interrupt something?" "Well, I was --" "Andy and I were doing--" "Rehearsing a play--" "Exercises--" "Messing around--" "Just seeing if--" "Having sex?" Ben's voice cut our excuses off like when you turn off the TV. "Andy was ..." "I was testing him! To see how much of a man he --" "Looked more like rape to me!" "Rape?" I said. Suddenly, everything looked ... well, awful. "It's not rape!" Kyle laughed. "The little queer can't rape me, no matter what he does!" Well, I guess that was true, in a way, as long as you weren't worried about the definition of rape, or something like that. Like they say, "you can't rape the willing." Right? "In that case," Ben grins, "carry on." "Huh!?" Kyle and I answer at the same time. "I want to watch. Show me!" "Show ..." I'm completely confused, somehow. "You were giving your prisoner a spanking! Do it!" "Oh. Yeah." I walk over and give Kyle's butt a couple of swats. "Oh, come on, Andy-boy. A spanking, not love taps! I want to hear it! Be a man!" Ben orders. A couple more slaps. I feel Ben's breath on my neck. "Do I have to show you how to do it, Andy-boy?" And without waiting for an answer, he grabs my hand and slams it into Kyle's butt cheek! "Yeah!" Kyle shouts. "Now spank him!" Ben thunders. It takes me less time than I'd expected to get back into a rhythm, probably because Ben is standing in the shadows, outside of my field of vision. I keep my eyes on Kyle's butt, watching my handprints fade. Thing is, his ass muscles are so tight it's like spanking a stone. I'm not sure which of us is hurting more. "Had enough?" I sneer. "Fuck you!" Kyle roars. "I don't think so! You got it backwards!" I practically run over to the box and return with a dildo. "How about a little warmup?" I hold the rubber shaft in front of Kyle's face and grease it up, then walk around him and crouch so I can line everything up. "Here comes Andy-boy!" I laugh, and work it in -- not too fast, but with a lot of angling up and down, side to side. I really have to try to do more of that with my own cock. "Faggot!" Kyle gasps, as he tries to move his ass to adjust to my attack -- or maybe intensify it. But then I see Ben out of the corner of my eye, moving around so he can see what's going on, and I suddenly remember we aren't alone. And I realize he's just like the guys I imagined enjoying the pictures I'd convinced Kyle we could sell to make money! "Pull it back slow and then ram it in!" Ben orders, and I do it. "Faggot!" Kyle yells again. "Yeah," Ben hisses. "Keep it up!" So I do: fast, then slow, then slow again and then fast until Kyle is breathing so hard I think he might faint, or something. I'm thinking, "Say cashmere sweater, Kyle! Or just sweater!" "You ever play with his nipples?" Ben asks. "Huh?" "Hold that thing in there." Ben walks around in front of Kyle, and a few seconds later I hear this gasp. "You like that, huh?" Ben sneers. "Hey, Andy-boy! Find me some clothespins or something!" I let the dildo slip out. We didn't have any clothespins, but there was a coffee can full of plastic ones on one of the shelves, so I grab it and bring it over to Ben. "This won't hurt," Ben says, and he pulls one of Kyle's tits out and clips it. Then he clips the other one. Then he clips Kyle's earlobes and that skin between his nostrils and under his arms, and the clip pops off his tit. Kyle yelps, from surprise I think, and Ben puts the clothespin right back on, but turned crossways. Then he goes back to adding clothespins to his other arm, and down his side. Every once in a while he flicks one, and sometimes they come off and Kyle lets out another yelp. And I'm hard. Then he starts clipping Kyle's foreskin, and his nutsack. "Fuckin' fag!" Kyle gasps. "What'd you say?" Ben snarls, as he slaps Kyle's hardon. "Fuckin' fag!" "You better not cum, pretty boy!" Then he spits on Kyle's cock and starts working it. "Fuck his ass! Work that dildo!" "But --" "Do it, kid!" Kyle grunts, "Fuck you, Ben! Go ahead, Andy! I can handle it!" So I put a little more grease on the dildo and ease it in. "Fuck him!" Ben snaps. I start easy, but we get into a rhythm, pretty quick. Ben slides his hand down Kyle's cock every time I push the dildo in. Maybe it felt to Kyle like he was fucking himself, or something, but pretty soon this kind of rumbling moan builds up. "Oooh, yeah!" Kyle groans. "Ooooooh, yeah!" over and over again. I don't know how the hell he's holding back. "Ooooooh, YEAH!" he roars. "Shoot into your hand, Andy!" Ben orders. Then he hisses at Kyle. "Don't lose the dildo, prettyboy!" I sort of press one elbow against the base of the dildo and grab my cock and shot a handful of cum. "Smear it on the faggot's face!" Ben orders. I grab the dildo again with my free hand and smear like crazy, knocking the clothespin off his nose at the same time. "Now shoot, prettyboy!" Ben commands, and I feel the dildo getting pulled into Kyle's ass, and he just about explodes. "Get him down!" Ben orders. That takes a few minutes because my hands are pretty messy. That's when I get a good look at Ben for the first time. He's standing there watching us in these tight jeans and this sweatshirt with the sleeves torn off and his arms crossed, and I realize I'm staring at his arms. "Don't just stand there, Andy-boy!" And he flexes. As soon as I get Kyle loose, he half-kneels and half drops to the plywood. I go down with him to keep him from hurting himself, while clothespins keep snapping and clattering to the floor. "Hey! My cock needs attention!" Ben snaps. "Get over here! Crawl!" He starts to undo his jeans. Kyle and I look at each other. "One click and you're all over the net, faggots!" Ben snarls. Kyle shrugs and nods at me, and we crawl over to Ben, steady ourselves on his legs, and start licking his cock and balls, me on his left side and Kyle, smeared with my cum, on his right. I should be ... I don't know, but I'm not. Instead, I'm thinking how hot it would be to see Ben's log fucking Kyle's butt. Then I realize the sooner we get Ben to shoot, the sooner this whole thing will be over. So I push Kyle's lips aside with my mouth and go down on Ben full press. To my surprise, Kyle immediately goes after his nuts. It doesn't take long. Ben yells, "Oh, F-U-U-U-UCK!!" and fills my gut and sort of wobbles back toward the weight bench while Kyle and I just kneel in place. But as soon as Ben sits down on the bench, Kyle springs to his feet. "Get the fuck out of here!" he yells, and reaches toward Ben's phone. "Don't bother, kid. It's already loaded on my hard drive. From now on, you fags are mine!" And God help me, my stupid cock starts to twitch.