Owned - Poor Harry
I was out one night when my life changed. My name is—well, was—Harry. I hit a few bars with my friends, cracking jokes and knocking back drinks. At eighteen and decently good-looking, nights out were my fishing trips—a chance to reel in a girl. Most weekends, I brought a girl back to my parents' place and had my fun, always slipping them out before morning light revealed any mischief.
A few girls tried to cling to me, but I always ghosted them. I was too young to be shackled by commitment. One quirk about me: if I lose my mates on a night out and haven't pulled, I bail. I guess I hate being alone.
That one night—I discovered later my mates were just at the bar—I didn't see them. I stood in the club's shadows, wondering where they'd gone. Maybe, in another life, I'd have searched for them through the throngs. Ten yards and a wall of people changed everything. But I didn't wait.
I shrugged into my coat, left the club, never noticing the two large men shadowing me. Fifty, sixty yards down an empty stretch, shuffling feet followed. Didn't think much of it—the streets had plenty of drunk people wandering around.
Passed a line of taxis, wondering if I should grab one. I hadn't spent much, and the walk was thirty minutes. But again, fate twisted my arm. I walked to save cash.
The further I walked, the louder the footsteps grew. Out of town now, the road always deserted on my rare walks home. Yet tonight, the rhythm of another's steps echoed louder.
I wasn't a fighter, just a well-built guy, jittering with fear. The thought of an ambush churned my gut. I quickened my pace. Fear climaxed when streetlights vanished, and then—
A hand clamped on my shoulder.
My entire world froze as I was spun around. Standing before me were two huge, intimidating men. I was nearly six feet tall, but they towered over me. Both wore black jeans and leather jackets clinging to their large frames, one sporting a short black beard while the other had a shaved face. Their short black hair glistened in the dim light.
Instinctively, I reached for my wallet, intending to hand it over. I had only a little cash and nothing worth fighting for. But as my fingers brushed the leather, a massive hand clamped around my wrist.
"Guess it's our lucky night," the one holding my wrist grumbled, his grip so massive it wrapped around my forearm.
"You shouldn't be walking alone at night," the other one said, flashing a wide, unsettling grin.
"You... you can have my money," I stammered, my voice shaky. "Just please don't hurt me."
The grip on my wrist tightened and yanked my arm up.
"Oh, we don't want your money," the one holding me snarled.
The other moved beside him, so close that their bodies nearly brushed against me.
"Oh no, we have much better plans for you," he whispered menacingly.
A rag was suddenly thrust over my face, cutting off my breath. Darkness swallowed me.
--
When I came to, my head was foggy, eyes fluttering open to a dim room.
"Urgh," I grunted, slowly sitting up.
I was on a bed, but it wasn't mine.
"Where am I?" I mumbled to myself, scanning the unfamiliar room.
Attempting to rise, I felt a pull. Leather cuffs circled my wrists, thick leather straps fetching them to the headboard. I could move but couldn't leave the bed.
What the hell is going on? I thought, panic bubbling in my chest.
Memories of the two men flooded back, and my body trembled. I started sweating, fear gnawing at my insides.
"Help!" I yelled with all my strength.
I struggled against the restraints, trying desperately to break free, but they were unyielding, and I was weakening.
"Someone help me!" I bellowed again, voice cracking with desperation.
The more I fought, the more exhausted I became. Breathless and panicked, I heard a vibration. Turning my head, I spotted my phone on a nearby desk, just out of reach, flashing with an incoming call from my friend James. In bondage, all I could do was watch as the call went unanswered.
I'm gonna die, I thought. The fear of death loomed as the worst possibility.
When the lone door to this windowless room clicked and began to open, my heartbeat thundered in my chest.
Light crept in, outlining the silhouette of a large, stocky man in the doorway.
"Let me out!" I cried, thrashing futilely against my binds.
"Oh, little one," a deep voice resonated, "you aren't going anywhere."
The silhouette entered, followed by another. Their faces emerged from the shadows, revealing the two men who had accosted me.
"What... what do you want?" I whispered, knowing my helplessness. They had me, and there wasn't much I could do.
Each step they took made my heart pound faster.
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," whispered the one with the beard.
"Are you going to kill me?" I asked, though dread curdled inside me at the potential answer.
They laughed, stopping right next to the bed as I edged backward to avoid them.
"No," said the beardless one, "we aren't going to kill you."
A snake tattoo coiled on his neck caught my eye as they exchanged knowing glances and nodded, their smiles wide and sinister.
"Paul," the bearded man asked, "would you like to do the honors?"
"Sure thing, Dan," Paul replied.
In an instant, Paul lunged forward and seized me. I desperately tried to fight and kick, but he effortlessly pinned me down, pressing the air out of my lungs. A surge of fear coursed through me as I felt the chill of cold steel against my skin concealed beneath my jeans, intensifying my struggle.
"Stop moving!" Paul bellowed, his weight suffocating me. "Wouldn't want to cut you."
Paul, a massive and robust man, rendered my futile resistance worthless. Eventually, I ceased my kicking and felt the sharp blades of scissors cutting through my jeans. To my relief, he was only cutting through the fabric, sparing me from harm.
The scissors continued their relentless journey up my legs until they were finally withdrawn, leaving me clad only in my black boxers. I watched as Paul was handed the scissors, a sinister smile spreading across his face, revealing his perfect white teeth.
"Now, don't move," he commanded, his voice sending shivers down my spine.
I lay frozen, my eyes glued to Paul as he proceeded to shred my shirt into pieces. The ruin of my £100 shirt didn't concern me; what terrified me was the fact that I lay nearly naked on this bed, their sinister intentions hanging heavy in the air.
Both men stepped away, their laughter echoing in the room. As I gasped for breath, a new wave of panic washed over me when Dan unzipped his leather jacket and stripped off his top. The sight of his body, massive and covered in a thick, curly black mane of hair, resembled more that of a grizzly bear than a man.
Paul followed suit, his body bearing a similar resemblance, save for a scar running down the left side of his stomach, where no hair grew. I dared not ponder the origins of such a grotesque scar.
"How should we use her first?" Paul asked Dan.
Her? I thought, my confusion piercing through the looming terror.
"I haven't had my ass eaten in months," Dan replied, laughter coating his words. "Let's see how she rims."
"What?" I whispered in shock, my mind reeling. Just moments ago, my fear fixated on the possibility of death. Now, it seemed like a far more desirable outcome than the thoughts that plagued my mind.
"Good thinking," Paul remarked, completely disregarding my presence. "I'll get her cunt ready."
Paul advanced toward me, and I attempted to rise, only for the restraints to yank me back to the bed. Before I could comprehend the events unfolding, Paul's hands seized my body, hoisting me up onto my trembling knees.
"No! Get off me!" I screamed in desperation.
A firm grip tangled in my short, brown hair, forcefully wrenching my head to face Paul. A cry of pain escaped my lips as his rough lips brushed against my ear, his warm breath caressing my face and neck.
"This will go much easier if you don't fight it," he whispered seductively into my ear.
His grip on my hair loosened slightly, and I turned my gaze to Dan, who was now pulling down his jeans. As his jeans fell to the floor, I gasped at the sight before me—his cock, fully hardened and impressively large! I had always considered myself average, around 5 inches, but compared to him, I seemed inadequate. Moreover, he was covered in a thick layer of hair, resembling an endless rug.
"Listen here, little one," Paul whispered in my ear once more, his words sending a chill down my spine. "You're going to do everything we tell you, and then we'll let you go home. If not, who knows what might happen."
His free hand explored every inch of my body, gently caressing me. Though I had some hair on my body, it paled in comparison to the abundant growth on theirs.
"You...you'll let me go?" I whispered, hope tinged with disbelief.
Paul's thick fingers snared the waistband of my boxers.
"Oh, we will," he whispered again as his wet tongue grazed up and down my ear, a sinister promise hanging in the air.
Fear paralyzed me, leaving me unable to react. I silently hoped that their intentions wouldn't venture too far beyond the boundaries of what I could bear, longing for the day when I could return home and erase this nightmare from my memory.
"Okay," I whispered, resignation seeping into my voice.
"Good girl," Paul murmured against my neck, planting a chilling kiss upon my skin.
His hand yanked my boxers down to my knees, exposing my soft, hairy cock and bare ass cheeks. Paul, a larger, older man, wasted no time in gripping and kneading my ass. It felt unfamiliar, wrong even, as no one had ever done this to me before.
As Paul explored my slim, naked body, Dan climbed onto the bed. I couldn't help but gaze at his hairy physique. But then he turned around, assuming a position on all fours with his hairy ass pointing at me.
