Tie Me Up, Please Sir

This story is the property of the author, and may not be reproduced in any form without his permission.

All participants are 18 or older, and no suggestion of underage sexual activity is intended.

I was taking a break from my work at home, browsing through some gay porn I had downloaded the night before. It was mostly pictures of S&M bondage, something I've never actually tried, but now and then I get off on pictures, and imagining I'm the one doing the tying. The idea of some muscle-bound macho hunk at my mercy while I teach him a few things about his body does turn me on.

The doorbell rang, and it was the young stud-puppy who manages my apartment complex. He's about 25, short, dark, and very muscular. This time he was wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy gym shorts and his tennis shoes, and his dark, smooth-skinned body was glistening with a light coat of perspiration - the temperature outdoors was about 90, but with our humidity in California so low, it felt quite pleasant to me. He'd obviously been exerting himself in the sun. I tried not to make my appreciation of his bare flesh too obvious. I figured he knew I was gay, but neither of us had ever said anything, and I knew he was married, and liked beer and Monday Night Football and all those macho straight-boy diversions. He was total eye-candy, and had fueled a few fantasies, but I knew better than to make any advances, however veiled or jovial.

"Hi, Dave, what's up?"

Dave and I get along OK, but I find communicating with him a chore - his train of thought always seems to be heading down a different set of tracks than mine, and it can take a long time to connect. So I try to avoid chit-chat, stick to the key issues.

"Mornin' - I need to change the batteries in your smoke detectors." He was carrying a step ladder, and had a box, presumably containing batteries, in one hand.

"Oh. Yeah. Uh, OK, come on in." I stepped back to make room for him to step inside.

My two-story town-house apartment has two smoke detectors, one at the foot of the stairs, the other in the upstairs hallway. Dave set up his ladder at the foot of the stairs, and got to work on the one there. I couldn't get past him to go back upstairs, but didn't mind. Watching him climb the ladder and stretch to take down the detector was quite pleasant. I'd never had an excuse before to stand so close to him when he was wearing so little, and the view was mouth-watering. I found myself wanting to reach out and steady him on the ladder, put my hands in places like his smooth solid thighs, his crotch and ass, reach up and stroke his big hard pecs, run my fingers down his rock-hard washboard abs.....

I found myself getting a raging hardon and turned away - there was no point in frustrating myself further, and possibly offending him. I went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter to drink it, breathing slowly and trying to think about things like gardening and dishwashing and balancing my checkbook. Eventually I had calmed down enough that I went back into the hallway. Dave was nowhere in sight. The front door was standing open, so I thought maybe he had finished and left. I closed the door and started up the stairs. I saw Dave's ladder at the top, leaning against the wall, but no Dave. My heart took a sudden flip-flop as I remembered what I had left displayed on my computer monitor. I took the stairs three at a time and ran into my office.

Dave was sitting in my desk chair staring at the screen of my computer. Displayed in front of him was a screenful of about ten thumbnail photos of naked young guys tied up in various ways, all with erections in spite of the looks of discomfort on their faces. Dave had one hand buried in his crotch and the expression on his face was one of awe.

"You weren't supposed to come in here," I told him, hoping he would have sense enough to get up and walk out and forget what he had seen.

"Shit!" Dave said softly, not really to me. "Fuck!"

I reached out and pressed the power switch on the monitor and the screen went dark. Dave continued to sit there, his hand rubbing his crotch. He did not look up at me.

Slowly it dawned on me - "What the hell?" I thought, "nothing to lose by trying."

"Would you like me to tie you up like that, Dave?" I asked him quietly. He looked up at me, but said nothing.

I went into my bedroom and opened one of the drawers under the bed, and took out a coil of soft rope. I had used it on myself a few times, liking the feeling of constraint, and the way it cut into me certain places. I took it back to the office.

"Stand up," I told the cute young stud. He obeyed, looking into my eyes dazedly. I turned him around so his back was towards me, pulled his hands behind his back, and used the rope to tie his wrists together. I did it slowly, so he had plenty of time to say No, and I did it loosely, so he would be able to escape easily. He stood and let me tie him. I avoided touching him any more than necessary, not wanting to scare him away. I pushed him towards the door.

"Go into the bedroom and lie face down on the bed," I told him, and he moved slowly down the hall and into my bedroom as instructed. He stood beside the bed, facing it, and I pushed him lightly. He fell forward. I knelt on the bed straddling the half-naked muscle-boy and grabbed the rope and looped it around his ankles and pulled it taught, hog-tying him. I made it tight enough that he was in some discomfort, but not so tight he couldn't move.

"Open wide," I told him - I picked up a pair of my undershorts from the floor and stuffed them into his mouth to gag him, then got up and stood looking down at him. He looked totally awesome, his muscular body straining against his bonds, his face turned towards me in supplication. He was struggling against the rope ineffectually, his face screwed up in mock pain and humiliation. I rolled him onto his side so I could get at the front of his body, and started stroking and fondling his naked torso, rubbing his pecs, playing with his big nipples, punching him lightly in the belly with my fist. He grunted and moaned. I avoided anything too openly sexual, stayed away from his crotch. But I did look, I had to look - he wasn't wearing anything under his shorts, which were loose, and his hard cock was now sticking out one leg hole. He had a big one, and it was so hard it looked ready to burst. He was totally aroused, loving this. I drew my thumb slowly up and down along the center of his chest and abs, tracing the sharp line between the slabs of rock-hard muscles, and he gasped. I dug my thumb into his navel and he moaned. Then I started tickling him, running my fingers up and down his rib cage, poking and prodding. His eyes went from a look of ecstasy to one of terror - he started laughing, fighting, twisting. I kept it up. I hadn't tied him so tight that he couldn't get free, but either he didn't realize that, or he liked what was happening. I kept it up until he was screaming into his gag, and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

I guess I got a little carried away. I stopped when he seemed to be in real pain. Had I gone too far? I moved back and let him recover. He panted and sobbed for a while, then slowly relaxed and fell back, still hog-tied. He was looking at me expectantly, waiting for more. I leaned down and started licking his chest, kissing and biting and sucking his big hard pecs and nipples. He sighed and moaned softly. I moved lower, licking his abs, digging my nose into his navel, loving his warm hard muscles against my face.

The phone rang, and I jerked, startled. I was expecting a call.

"Fuck!" I swore. I stood up. "Sorry, I have to get that."

When I finished talking on the phone - I kept it as short as I could, but it was two or three minutes - Dave had freed himself and gone. I thought of going after him to make sure he wasn't fetching a gun, but decided that was unlikely. The best thing was to say nothing, pretend nothing had happened.

The next day I was working at my desk in mid-morning when the doorbell rang again. It was Dave, ladder in hand.

"Uh, sorry, I forgot to do the one upstairs," he said apologetically, avoiding my eyes.

I stepped aside and let him in. Today he was wearing an even skimpier pair of shorts, the nylon kind with a slit up each side. I looked up at him as he climbed the stairs and saw his pale ass cheeks revealed alternately as he lifted each leg in turn. Most of his body was darkly tanned, but his ass cheeks were pale, smooth, round and firm. I imagined licking them, biting them, making the sexy little stud moan and gasp. He glanced down at me, and hesitated, then continued up. Was he pissed off? Was he here to pay me back? I turned and went into the kitchen to wait while he did his job. There was nothing on the screen of my computer but a spreadsheet, and I doubted that would arouse his libido. If he was looking for revenge, he'd have to come and get me, I wasn't going to make it easy for him.

After a while, I heard Dave coming back down the stairs, then there was silence. I waited about half a minute and didn't hear the door open. Finally I called out "Finished?" He didn't reply, and I walked into the hallway.

Dave was standing at the foot of the stairway, stark naked, my shorts stuffed into his mouth. His cock was sticking out, rock hard. He was holding out the rope towards me. "Unplug the phone," was all he said.

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