The Two Hundredth and Seventy Fifth of One Thousand and One Nights – by Amalaric

[Click image to enlarge.]

Always shirtless, sometimes stripped to a loincloth, maybe best to dispense with all of that and lay the big buck out in the dirt stark naked. Many here have commented that they like it done ‘nice and slow’…well…leave it to the sun, the insects, the cold at night, stretched and strained muscles…and any number of other little ‘helpers’ as the long hours slowly pass. In the meantime, there is a living canvas to play with- great chest rising and falling in labored, terrified, angry, or humiliated breaths, flat belly glistening with sweat and maybe a treasure trail pooling in a thick bush of curly pubes, cock and balls flopping helpless in the relentless light and fairly begging some careful attention, long hairy legs and strong arms spread wide in the classic mode of display; spread eagle….ah, there’s a word! Yeah, plenty of time to consider all of the, ah, options as he sweats and strains, curses or pleads or maybe just grunts in agony; helpless and exposed in all his glory. Take your time, yeah, that’s right; nice and slow.


9 thoughts on “The Two Hundredth and Seventy Fifth of One Thousand and One Nights – by Amalaric

  1. You’re absolutely correct to suggest there are myriad ways observers might play with this “living canvas,” Amalaric, and that it’s smart for them to give due, extensive contemplation to their “options” rather than necessarily diving right in. After all, one of the sweetest pleasures for those viewing his abject nude humiliation is just that — viewing him there while he is fully aware that he IS being observed in the most intimate detail imaginable. and can do nothing whatsoever about it. Add in appropriately frustrating taunts and laughs and roguish grins (all, of course, provided by fully and comfortably clothed men), and over a period of a few hours, that in itself at least psychologically is as potent in causing him to squirm and curse and buck (forcing his relatively unrestrained hips to thrust with the attendant flopping of his not-so-private parts) as any number of direct interventions/intrusions/lashings/ticklings/strategic applications of itching powder. Imagine his red-eyed rage when one of the viewers helpfully points out, “Dude, did you realize we can, umm, see your, well, you know, the underside of your penis and BOTH testicles right here in broad daylight and that we’re not nekkid like you and that we’re enjoying it because, after all, it’s happening to you and not us? That must SUCK. For you, I mean, not for us of course.”

  2. Not at all, big A. I used to be under a serious delusion that I was good at these sorts of stories. (Once wrote an OK piece about a dumb college baseball player subjected to a very public hearing before an academic panel after he made the mistake of complaining about an explicit and completely recorded mock physical performed on him by a respected professor in front of his anatomy class.) Then I started reading your material, and that snipped away my ego faster than a sharp knife snips the loincloth off a desperately publicly shamed and displayed stud in a Tagame drawing. I’m more frustrated than a bear losing his trunks on a water park slide (Yes, that happens, believe me) that I can’t put adequately into words the effect you have on me and, I think, everybody else on this forum.

  3. A profound meditation that penetrates deeply into the reader, on … yes, what? About torment? About torture? About pain? About lust? No, about the long, anxious and uncertain waiting of the victim. A meditation on uncertainty and thus on fear. The queen of all torments. Long live the Queen! 👑

  4. Joe! Dude…your metaphors are…priceless! A bear losing his trunks on a water slide???? Gonna steal that one somehow. BTW the story of a baseball player getting a mock physical in an anatomy class sounds as hot as they come…

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