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

[Click image to enlarge.]

Part 6.

‘It was getting very late…’ I nodded agreement, though I realised that Brent was still rapt in his memories. ‘All  of us reckoned we’d settle delivery on the group of rentals selected earlier but they were definitely for later- it was nearly dawn and time to get home to penthouse, renovated loft, or designer flat, or whatever, for some much needed shut eye. One of the ubiquitous attendants glided silently across the rustic wood planks of the stalls, all incongruous in black suede slippers, and murmured something to the effect that we might enjoy some refreshment…ah, a nightcap, so to speak…before bidding farewell to what was clearly a very special establishment. I reckoned that they would pull out the twenty four year old, best label whisky as a sort of last hurrah and I was only half mistaken- the exquisite captive stud did look like he might have been somewhere around twenty four.

See, it seemed there was a last room the proprietors wished us to visit as a sort of courtesy, or gratuity; a token of gratitude and lingering promise all at the same time. The showroom hype, inclusive of demos and whatnot was complete, the customers both satisfied and filled with anticipation, and we had dropped enough dosh to keep any number of stock holders (or whoever the fuck owned the place) happy for a very long time. Now we were invited to relax and witness an unforgettable crescendo before heading happily into the waning night.

He waited alone in the rather stark, unfurnished room like that rarest of wine so special it was kept in a cellar all by itself. The conceit was made explicit by a sign on the door that read: Special Reserve and, below that, For Preferred Customers Only. Whether that was true or not, it certainly had the effect of sharpening our collective sense of anticipation. And, I swear Ric, all of the men…ah, I mean products… in that establishment were fine specimens, but what greeted our jaded eyes truly was special.’ Was that a glint of drool that suddenly appeared at the corner of Brent’s mouth? ‘Yep, very special. Like I said, he was somewhere in his early twenties and perfectly proportioned and, I might add, perfectly displayed- stripped naked and fastened, arms fully outstretched and legs splayed wide against a metal wall, immobilized by stainless steel brackets at wrists and ankles; mounted, yeah, like a goddam trophy. His face had that look of clear sky, humid sunlight, and hard labour in corn or wheat field like you might spy, if you were really lucky, along a back country road anywhere in the Midwest…or maybe like that unattainable, god-like jock perched on some Olympian height at a shit hole college; star of track, maybe a wrestler, and any number of ball games, stud extraordinaire, possessor of genes that would make any X-man blush with shame…’ My host wiped the sweat from his brow, clearly moved by the recollection. ‘And that, Ric, was just his face. OK, hair the colour of harvested hay, blue eyes glinting with all the right emotions; chief among them fear, resignation, and more than a hint of raw anger. The buck’s body was so perfect that he must have spent half his damn life either training…or being trained. Well, one could just imagine putting THAT young animal through his paces!

Well, fuck me, but despite all that I just told you…well, it had been a long night and we were dead tired. It was then, as we mumbled excuses to the effect that it was time to call it a night and all of that (nevertheless eyeing that magnificent buck all the while and maybe making some fast mental notes for another, brighter day)… and the pansy attendant giggled and said that surely we could linger just a few moments longer for…refreshments, a night cap on the house. What the hell? We had already dropped a fortune and the prospect of a freebie definitely had its charms. The attendant smiled demurely and motioned for us to gather around the helpless naked stud shackled in all his masculine glory to that hard metal wall. The boy looked nervous, even scared, but it was more like wariness, not as if we were about to butcher him with chainsaws and chow down on some bloody late night steaks… It was then that the minion withdrew a small vial from his jacket and, removing the tiny cork stopper, the whole room was suddenly suffused with the mingled scent of lime and something else indefinably medicinal. No, please!!! The effect on the young helpless stud was immediate; he began to squirm, pulling at the bolted shackles, flexing already tense muscles, a look of real terror creasing his handsome features. The attendant ignored his frantic struggles and, snapping on an antiseptic latex glove, cryptically remarked that one needed to be very careful. Of what? He gingerly dipped a rubber-clad finger into the vial and withdrew it dripping an amber coloured viscous substance- obviously the source of the strange, powerful fragrance. Inviting us to observe closely, he then dabbed lightly on each of the rosy nipples adorning the buck’s deep naked chest. The heart rending shriek that split the close air of the cell caused a couple of us to reflexively leap backwards, even though our muscular victim remained shackled securely to the wall. It’s fucking burning me, man…please!!! Wipe it off!!!!! Ignoring the captive’s agonized protests, the attendant merely smiled knowingly and- to the wide eyed horror of the whimpering victim- prepared to smear a great dollop of the stuff on the flinching head of his magnificent cock. The muscular young buck, of course, did everything in his power to avoid the searing substance, but what the fuck man- he HAD no power, except to twist and turn all in a lather of slick sweat in his stationary position against the unforgiving wall. Darting forward, the attendant grasped the guy’s huge cock and, with his free hand still dripping the aromatic goo, swabbed the sticky substance along the inner seam of the boy’s penis; from the silky hairs dusting his ball sack to the velvety rim of the rosy head…why, he even dabbed some into the kid’s piss slit with one of those cotton swabs!

I’m telling you, man, the guy’s screams were fit to wake the dead or break a mother’s heart…I mean, the stuff must have burned like liquid fire.’ Brent sighed and wiped sweat from his forehead. Was it sympathy for the young victim’s ordeal that had him suddenly so hot under the collar? Somehow, I doubted that. ‘Anyway, the strange thing was that to look at the dude, you wouldn’t guess that anything was…er…wrong. I mean- he was carrying on like his skin was being sand blasted off but on closer observation his handsome cock and suckable nips looked just fine. Pretty weird, I’m telling you Ric…until, that is, the ever-helpful attendant explained what was going on. Yeah, seems that the paste or goo or whatever had actually been developed in a military lab somewhere out in Nevada. Kind of a tool of the trade for the CIA or some such shit, getting terrorists to spill the beans…until, that is, they discovered an amazing side effect! OK…I’m getting ahead of myself. So, we’re watching the young stud carry on as if someone was peeling his dick like a banana…and, all of a sudden, he begins to sprout some wood, no fucking kidding, man, and not just any old wood, Ric! In roughly a minute and a half the buck’s throbbing cock looked so damn stiff and so HUGE that I swear you could have used it to batter down a locked door or mug someone in broad daylight! Have you guessed yet?’ He flashed a wide grin and continued, ‘Well, it seems there was an unexpected side effect to what was otherwise meant to be a simple temporary neurotoxin intended for some…ah…straightforward torture. Ingenious, really; no permanent damage, in fact, no real damage at all…but for an hour or two it feels like your skin is being crisped off by an out of control blow drier…except that AT THE SAME TIME…’ Brent winked, ‘…the victim is also stimulated in a variety of other ways and if the targeted area happens to be an erogenous zone…fark me, what did I say before? We got ourselves some fireworks!!!’ He giggled, ‘Or should I say…refreshments?’

The adroit minion, still wearing his latex glove, lightly brushed the flared rim of our lad’s painfully engorged cock. OK, maybe the captive’s ragged scream was a decibel or two louder- no doubt about it, any touch must have hurt like hell- but his stiff pecker also jumped, of its own accord, dribbling a steady stream of pearly precum. Passing around a sterilised box, he invited us to don disposable gloves and join in the fun. One of the guys laid a heavy stroke up the sensitive inseam eliciting a ragged shriek and, if anything, the dude’s iron hard rod got even harder! Eventually the smiling minion motioned us aside, whispering that all was ready, whatever the hell that might mean? Mincing up close to the writhing captive, he actually plucked at the dude’s throbbing penis and, at the same time, bent the rock hard shaft downward toward a small gilt bowel. We whistled our admiration as the sweating stud gasped then inhaled a whirlwind and shot his load into the depths of the bowl.’ Brent took a deep breath of his own and, speechless, I waited for him to continue. ‘Yeah, Ric…and I have never- not before or since- seen such a prolonged or exhaustive spurt. Did the young stud derive any pleasure in what had to be the most intense orgasm of his short life? I seriously doubt it.  Instead, he grunted a last guttural cry, every muscle in his long naked body tensed, and thrust his pelvis shamelessly, reflexively, uninhibitedly…FORWARD; straight, it seemed, into the depths of the hungry receptacle. Great steaming ropes of white hot jism shot from the tortured head of his dick; convulsively, each ripped from his unwilling balls outlined in shamed relief as they retracted in his sweaty scrotum. The force was so great that you could hear the stream, like the patter of hard rain on pavement…damn, it just seemed to last forever. Eventually the spurts grew more sporadic and, finally exhausted, the captive broke down in bitter sobs, begging something incoherent, meaningless, unheeded…until, with a final whimper, he went limp against the wall, eyes unfocused and half closed; glazed against a violation too large for comprehension.’ Brent paused, lost in his recollection. I glanced mindlessly at the clock on the wall, knowing as I did so that I would see this tale through to the end.

‘The minion sniffed the prodigious offering, swirling it around with a bright green swizzle stick and smiled. Then, like some kind of macabre bartender, he measured out the pearly juice into small shot glasses crafted of the finest Czech crystal. A dash of obscenely expensive 150 year old brandy, followed by a couple of fast dabs of the swizzle stick, a tiny wedge of lime…and, presto, refreshments were served!!!

Trying not to gag, I finally reached a point of mixed satiation and pure disgust. Pleading unfeigned weariness, we offered prodigious thanks, bid our farewells and fled into the last couple of hours of what had turned out to be quite a memorable evening. My buddy and I remained on the island for a few more days but didn’t run into Brent or his girlfriend again as they had let us know that they planned to helicopter back to the mainland the next day. Even so, we exchanged addresses and, of course, phone numbers with effusive promises to stay in touch. I never saw either of them again and, I guess, I never really expected to…and yet… Well, see, I’m kind of concerned about something…ok, really concerned. It has to do with my buddy…his name is John…and it seems that, well, he disappeared a month or so ago. Yeah, cops were called in and everything, but there just doesn’t seem to be a trace of him anywhere. I know, you may be thinking that young guys sometimes take off incognito, no big deal and all of that. Only thing is, John just wasn’t the type to pull that kind of shit. And another thing that kind of has me freaked is…ah…he was damn good looking, a real babe magnet…nah, couldn’t be, could it? All of that stuff that Brent told me about, you know, that kind of stuff doesn’t really go on…does it? Sure, everything’s probably just fine…but I wake up at night sometimes in a cold sweat and wonder if, somewhere, Brent may have met up again with my buddy John…

End

_______________

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

  1. My Dear Amalaric, congrats on a fantastic story! Each part had it’s own erotic peaks, but Part 6 was extraordinary: that cum was the stuff of dreams and the end twist, well, one can only hope John is screaming his guts out after they rip off those jeans and briefs. Thank you, thank you for a thrilling achievement! As I have said many times, You are the Best.
    steve mchalperin.

Leave a Reply.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s