Bound Muscle

Bound_MuscleI step out to greet one of my buddies, who is here for a bondage session in my new place. I haven’t seen him in six months and as usual, am completed awed by how buff and sexy this guy is: 6’4”, 230 pounds with spiky brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. He is wearing one of those awful Coca-Cola t-shirts everyone and their mother seems to own, but it’ a size too small and shows off his tight pecs, huge shoulders and washboard abs. His cargo shorts are hiding the immense thighs and bubble-butt I’ve seen a dozen times before since we met several years ago.

The scene is always the same: Strip him down, rope him to my bed, and edge him for a few hours until he is begging to be allowed to shoot. He claims to be straight and married and while I doubt he is either, I’ve never pushed him on the subject. One: I understand how important fantasy is for some people. Two: This hot, masculine stud is allowing himself to submit to me, so why the hell should I mind playing along?

That being said, I am in the mood to change things up a bit. I figure: New house, new rules.

He’s always a little shy at first, which I use to my advantage. I walk him into my bedroom and give him 60 seconds to strip down to his underwear, warning him he will receive a paddling for every second he is late. He tears his clothes off within fifteen seconds and stands in front of me, panting a little. He is wearing powder blue Ginch Gonch briefs which look ridiculous on him, but he is tanned and has clearly been kicking ass at the gym, so I keep my opinion to myself. He has shaved what little hair he has from his chest and legs. I prefer hairy guys – I like having chest hair to pull on – but he looks amazing just the same. I tell him to drop to his knees and avert his eyes to the floor. I begin rubbing his huge shoulders, knowing it helps relax him. I confirm that I have him for two hours and remind him of his safeword, which is my name: Enzo. He knows that he can yell and scream all he wants, but that I will assume he is having a great time until he uses my name. Besides, he is well-aware that not referring to me as “Sir” will get him a swat with my paddle, or worse.

I reach into my toy chest and pull out several coils of black rope, a leather blindfold, steel handcuffs, some simple clothes pins and my weapon of choice: A wicked steel paddle encased in black leather. I carefully set each item on the table at the foot of my bed, letting him see what I plan to use. As predicted, his cock begins to swell. Also as predicted, his little briefs don’t stand a chance of containing his 8” monster. I rub my fingers lightly across his stretched briefs, causing both of us to moan. For me, there is nothing hotter than a seemingly perfect, masculine guy submitting to me. It drives me crazy, and makes it hard to stay in character.

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My Naughty Neighbor

naughty neighborI hadn’t been in my new place a full three days before my neighbor made his move. He and his wife introduced themselves as I was moving in, so I didn’t think much of it when he walked across the street to join me as I was taking out the trash. He asked how the move went and I invited him to check out what I did to the place. He looked cute enough, in that straight-guy way: Bushy brown hair, blue eyes, a few days worth of scruff and a lean athletic body. I guessed him to be in his early thirties. He was a little taller than I am, maybe 6’1”.

We spent a few minutes on boring small talk until he saw my king-sized steel-framed bed, which basically took up 80% of my bedroom. “Damn, that’s some bed.”

If he wasn’t straight, I would have explained it was great for bondage scenes, but I didn’t want to scare him away just yet. “It’s a pain in the ass to move, but I think it’s cool.” I reached up and playfully hung from the top beam. “It’s great for pull-ups.”

“Is that the secret to those huge arms?”

If he wasn’t straight, I would have assumed he was hitting on me. “That, and genetics, I guess.”

“How big are your biceps?”

“A little more than 18 inches,” I replied.

“Damn,” he said, whistling. “I doubt I could even get my hands around them.”

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