Trigger warning: This story contains strong elements of domination, humiliation, and forced, non-consensual male homosexual intercourse. It also includes drug use. If such material upsets you, please skip this one. You've been warned.
One of the downsides of living alone is that it takes a while for anyone to notice when you go missing.
Such was the case for young Tim Evans. He had last been seen in the early hours of Friday morning, leaving a party where some meth had been passed around. The other partygoers were too out of it to notice when Tim left. The following day, nobody could reach him. Anyone who called got his voicemail. His car was parked within a block of his apartment, so those who were interested assumed he was just sleeping it off and didn't want to see anyone.
Meanwhile, Tim was being held in a small, windowless room off a garage some fifteen miles away. He was stripped naked, stretched out on a cot, with no idea where he was, what time it was, or when his captors would return.
And, he was hungry.
He ran the water in the small sink, and was able to capture enough water to relieve his dry, parched throat.
Without warning, the overhead light turned on. The door swung open to reveal Wilson, stark naked, carrying a bowl of something unidentifiable. His cock and balls hung loosely beneath his mass of pubic hair, swinging obscenely from side to side as he walked.
"Here's your oatmeal," he said, brusquely.
"Thank you, Sir," Tim said timidly.
"We'll come back for you in a while," Wilson replied as he left the room, slamming the door behind him. The ominous sound of the lock filled Tim with dread.
Tim ate the oatmeal, which was actually surprisingly tasty. It definitely hit the spot, since he hadn't eaten since some chips and dip at last night's party.
Now awake and fed, Tim had the time to contemplate what had happened since getting pulled over. He was surprised to discover that even though he was frightened, he was also secretly thrilled at having been taken as a sex prisoner by these two big masculine men. He had never given much thought to the idea of sex with other men, and his experience with women was woefully limited. He'd had a couple of girlfriends in high school, but other than making out and a little touchy-feely, he hadn't yet had full-blown vaginal or oral intercourse. He had felt one girl's breasts under her blouse but over her bra. He had rubbed her clit through her panties, but none of that was "real" sex. She had only rubbed his dick through his briefs. He didn't even remember having masturbated thinking about any of those encounters. Instead, he jacked off looking at himself jacking off, end of story. Other men never entered his fantasy, but he could not get the sights, smells, and tastes of his recent experience out of his mind.
Now, he sat alone in the windowless room, thinking about Wilson's huge, hairy body and massive cock. Thinking about Jackson's big, brown, uncut tool and smooth, glorious asshole. He thought about the two of them masturbating for him, and soon he had jacked himself off to a hearty orgasm.
He had barely finished shooting cum out of his cock when the door opened again. Both Wilson and Jackson were there. Each wore tight black leather jockstraps which left little to the imagination. Wilson had a pair of black leather armbands around his massive biceps, while Jackson was strapped into a black leather harness. Wilson wore a black leather cap, modeled after a policeman's hat.
Both officers started laughing when they saw Tim's shrinking cock and the pool of cum on his chest. "Started without us, eh?" Jackson asked. Tim blushed.
"Get up, Timmy," Wilson said harshly, clearly not in the mood for silliness.
"Yes, Sir!" Tim responded, getting to his feet, his penis shrinking. Cum was running down his belly.
"You're in for an important lesson today," Jackson told him. "Follow me."
Jackson led Tim into a small bathroom off the laundry room of the main house. "Empty yourself," Jackson commanded, pointing at the toilet.