“Party Animal” –by Amalaric, Part 3 of 6

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Part 3.

The exquisite blond waited passively…but, really, he didn’t have much of a choice. I guess it’s appropriate to say that he was tastefully, even artistically, displayed- buck naked upright with hands shackled behind his back, affording us an unobstructed view of his physique, and attached to a sturdy iron post, thus presumably immobilising him for casual observation and…er…examination. He had the cubicle all to himself- well, he did until we arrived- and I wondered if the black velvet curtain that served as a backdrop was intentional as the contrast between the sensuous, dusky colour of the hanging fabric and the pale perfection of the young stud’s perfectly smooth skin was really striking. I mean, Ric, the guy was a true blond- this was immediately obvious from the deep gold of his soft, curly pubes and glinting carpet of spun sunlight on his athletic legs and forearms- but his otherwise smooth skin was a wonderful subtle mosaic of fair blushing alabaster, moving sensuously from marble white to rose to the palest of golden tans. In other words, the guy was like a perfect canvas…untouched and unspoiled; ready and primed for some serious creative endeavour.  He looked pretty young- maybe somewhere between 19 and 22…something like that…probably a college student (once upon a time) and, if so, almost certainly into sports. How do I know that? Easy- the guy’s build just shrieked athlete. Though not over-developed, his broad shoulders, defined biceps and pecs and flat tapering abs all bore witness to many a hard workout, as did his muscular thighs and calves. The young jock’s cock and balls, framed by the patch of deep golden pubes, shyly pulsed; ripe testicles retracting and relaxing as if aware of all the exposure and attention and not at all sure what to make of it. We licked our collective lips, determined to clear up any doubts or misunderstandings…’

I couldn’t help but notice that Brent’s tone had subtly changed. Nervousness had given way to animation and…what? A sense of gleeful anticipation? I began to wonder if coming to the strange couple’s hotel room had been such a good idea after all. Brent, oblivious to my rising concern, continued the story, ‘The clerk, or whatever he was- you know, the guy who showed us into the room- said that the young jock was a demo, yeah, a kind of sample of the establishment’s very special kind of product, and that, as such, we were free to…ah…conduct various tests. I ran my hand through the helpless stud’s crew cut hair, marvelling at  its bristly softness, and he looked up at me with wide, frightened eyes the colour of the sky at twilight and whispered, ‘Please man, help me…I don’t belong here, have to get out…’ Shifting against the post, he flexed his biceps, swallowed hard and repeated, ‘Help me!’ Well, Ric, let me tell you,’ Brent was now positively excited; a light sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, ‘I decided then and there that I would help the dude…to the full range of toys arrayed on a nearby antique chair. I mean, it was like Christmas morning or something; there were various gauge whips and paddles, clamps, pins, screws, even a prod, man!! I just couldn’t wait to try out the prod!! The captive, realizing his pleas were futile, eyed the same goods that we were and began to squirm in earnest, raising some more sweat on that delicious body, unconsciously showing off his muscles in the process. He was breathing hard and fast, blue eyes fixed on the medium gauge multi-strand cat in my buddy Steve’s eager hand, and gave out a satisfying yelp as the first stroke raked across his lower rib cage, instantly raising a bright red welt on that smooth, pale skin. Ten minutes later, and with the proprietor’s permission, Steve switched to a heavy gauge bull whip and we all stepped back several paces. The young jock’s naked torso was already bright red- you know, sort of like someone who has spent too much time in the sun…WAY too much time, actually- and he seemed to be in a lot of pain…though he may have been faking it? Yeah, the sucker made a shit load of noise; begging Steve to stop, for someone to help him, dancing all the while against the post, right in time with the snapping of the whip, like some kind of disco lover-boy spaced out on Ecstasy… Anyway, though he was most likely really hurting and not putting on an act, the bull whip put an end to all doubt.’ By this time I was feeling a little queasy but swallowed hard and urged Brent to continue his tale. He raised the short hairs on the back of my neck with narrowed eyes and a knowing glance, asking me what else I wanted to know. ‘Uh…what was the guy’s name? Did you ever find out?’

‘Name? Doubt if he had one…at least at that point. Anyway, like I was saying, the bull whip jacked the concert up an octave, so to speak, and- let me tell you, man- the sounds coming from that dude’s raw throat sounded like Janis Joplin doing an imitation of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz!’ He laughed at the disgusting analogy, but I got the point. ‘First, though, they flipped him around- welted chest now hugging the post with his pert ass, overdeveloped hairy thighs, and broad muscular back presenting a fresh canvas worthy of a man’s whip!’ ‘Didn’t you feel just a little bit sorry for him?’ I asked, hating myself for the quaver in my voice. ‘Nah…’ Brent yawned, I mean Ric- the dude was a demo after all. So, where was I? Oh yeah. Right. See, the bull whip cut where the cat had merely raised some colourful welts and a few bruises. After five or six hard strokes the blood flew around the room as thick as his sweat and the big stud was left sobbing into the cold iron of the post…when he wasn’t shrieking like a stuck pig. Of course, he eventually passed out…and we all reckoned that was cool as it was time for a smoke break anyway.’ ‘And…’ I hesitated, but only for a split second, ‘what about the, ah, prod?’ I was amazed to feel my pecker stir to lazy life in the depths of my trousers and hoped Brent hadn’t noticed. ‘Farkin right, man!’ Brent grinned like a school boy and glanced at the wet spot spreading in my lap. ‘After around twenty minutes the clerk (or whatever the fuck you call the guy) revived our boy and I got to try out the prod. Yep, pressed the prong right up to his hairy ball sack, threw caution to the winds adjusting the juice to the highest notch…and pulled the trigger.’ ‘Damn! What happened then???!’ I was now unashamedly hooked on the dark tale. Brent sighed, his eyes glazed with nostalgia, ‘Pure fireworks, man, pure fireworks!!’



1 thought on ““Party Animal” –by Amalaric, Part 3 of 6

  1. …eyed the same goods as we were and began to squirm in earnest. That’s it, Amal. Let him view the toys so carefully and prominently laid out. Let his imagination run wild as he imagines what each toy is for and on what part of his body (well, no longer his body) each is meant for. This all requires a delicate touch. Choose a toy, Amal, and carefully, lovingly let it slide between your hand. Let your fingertips softly caress it. And by all means, let him see just how you handle it. He will understand that you know exactly how to get the most from the delightful properties each toy possesses. And our blond delicacy is merely a demo model. I’ll take it.

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