Chapter 180 - CHAPTER 8 - CURT STRIPPED

Aaron went up to Curt and rudely yanked a black leather hood on the boy's sweaty head as he struggled and yelled. The hood that had openings for his eyes, his nostrils and mouth into place, and they locked it with a mini-lock. The hood caused Curt to go into a panic mode - it felt invasive and worse, it was hot and seemed hard to see and breathe. He struggled even more, cursing them, and then pleading for them to take it off. He thought it would drive him crazy wearing it.

Jesse came up and shoved a red ball gag into the boy's open mouth, strapping it tightly - but allowing Curt to still yell and scream - though almost all his words would be muffled or unintelligible.

Without warning, Aaron bitch slapped his face hard through the leather hood - causing the boy to yell, and then kissed him on the lips biting into the ball gag.

"Yeah, big f.u.c.k.i.n.g straight boy all tied up and now just f.u.c.kin kissed by a certified faggot. How did you like that, huh?"

Curt struggled and yanked at his restraints in vain - and yelled further in what they assumed was a muffled "F.U.C.KIN LET ME GO!!!"

"Well, let's get started Curt. You'll have a new name for your potential buyers and the audience watching the videos by of course."

Buyers? Audience? New name? What the f.u.c.k???? He was confused, though he did see the video cams and camera men. But what was going on?

Before Curt could protest and struggle further, Jesse and Daniel approached the boy and ripped Curt's t-shirt off, tearing it completely from his body.

""AAAAHAHAHAHFFFFFKKK!!!!!!" Curt gasped and yelled again his reedy masculine voice muffled because of the ball gag. The yelling and the sheer fury of his struggling only made them hotter, and they watched for a few minutes, while Curt's sweaty smooth body squirmed and struggled to break free.

They loved his slightly hairy belly button. It was large enough to stick an index finger into it without a problem, and had some folds of skin deep in the hole that offered some mystery, hidden odors and perhaps - they hoped - even more ticklish sensations. They knew that most straight boys never had their belly buttons played with - maybe kissed in passing by a girl - but never fingered or tongued on a concentrated prolonged way that they would do to him - as they did to other boys. Curt would find - as all the previous victims did - that every part of his muscled beautiful body, every orifice, every fingers, toes, fingers, armpits, n.i.p.p.l.es, d.i.c.k and balls - would be thoroughly explored, fondled, played with over and over. They would have fun drilling their fingers, tickling and tonguing that s.e.xy hole.

Though his head was now covered by the hot leather hood, his tormentors knew by the movement of his head, the growing panic and horror on his handsome face, though he tried to hide it with macho rage. The hood took some of the frat boy college athlete bravado out of him, because it increasingly became hotter causing his head to sweat profusely matting his hair and - that made him also think that it could somehow suffocate him.

Other than being punked, he had no idea what they exactly would do with him never having experienced gay s.e.x and never watched gay p.o.r.n. He had no points of real references to go by other than what people saw in mainstream movies about guys in prisons getting r.a.p.ed or what he heard in the locker rooms or on the street. Nearly all of those references though were derogatory and about getting punked in the a.s.s. Curt knew about hand jobs but it never occurred to him to think about a guy doing that to him ever. He knew gay guys s.u.c.k.e.d d.i.c.k - though that never interested him in the least and he, like a lot of straight boys, thought he would never get off or get hard by a guy s.u.c.k.i.n.g him or touching him. He never thought about other forms of male on male s.e.x. He of course had seen mainstream movies of guys getting tortured - so he had some knowledge of that.

Yeah, there was that neighbor upstairs from his apartment that definitely creeped him out by his stares and picture taking that he didn't realize what he was doing the past year until his camera dropped on him. And there were over the years as a teenager when at different times older men would says things to him that later he realized were offers to blow him or even pay him for s.e.x, though he didn't realize it at the time. He just ignored them like he did with anyone who he thought wasn't important to him - like that guy who lived upstairs from him. F.u.c.k.i.n.g faggot he thought. But now...how could this be happening to him as a barrage of thoughts flashed through his mind.

He could only think of what he heard - like everyone else - what goes on in prison with big a.s.s cons punking young new guys against their will. That was the only point of reference that Curt had to go on. But this wasn't prison, so what was happening - how could they do this Curt thought?

"Well, even if you're a freak who takes pictures of himself like that, I have to admit you are one hell of a pretty dude. Yeah. " Aaron said, putting his face just an inch or two away from Curt's hooded head forcing an intimacy that further repelled him.

"But you think because you are so f.u.c.kin good-looking that you can have your f.u.c.k.i.n.g way. Well, all that's over for you boy. You're nothing but a f.u.c.kin s.e.x toy, bitch."

At that he placed his long dry fingers under the boy's damp sweaty hairy armpits, rubbing it there lightly, as Curt's body tightened up. His body shook slightly - in fear and anticipation that maybe those fingers would tickle him - something he couldn't stand. Until this moment it never occurred to Curt that tickling would even be one of the abuses he would have to face. Now he feared they would tickle him if they could get a reaction from him. Curt in a split-second realized he had to show them that he wasn't ticklish, while also fighting off the panic and sheer terror in his brain exploding just over the thought of being tickled.

The fingers played and pulled slightly at his armpit hairs, lightly - with feather like touches - glided over, sometimes dragging a finger or two around the outside area of his pit, and - dangerously to Curt - finger walking in and around the hairy pits, always falling just short of actually tickling him. But the sensation shot electric tremors through his entire muscled now taut body with Curt doing all he could not to be overcome by the growing panic of sheer terror that those fingers would tickle him. He tried desperately - and thought he was succeeding - in not moving his body as if the touching did not scare him, even if he showed disgust of what they were doing.

The touching of those fingers - back and forth dancing their digits lightly in his hairy pits that were an intense mixture of sensations that brought him just to edge of what would be outright tickling. To Curt's mind it was like the electric touch of feathers skillfully probing each armpit hair - and sometimes drilling lightly into the skin there. But never crossing over the edge to outright tickling, though Curt never knew that. He was terrified that at any moment they would plunge their fingers into his sides and pits and tickle him to death.

It took all of Curt's will power, gritting his teeth on the ball gag hard, closing his eyes tight, his hands fisted and his body going rigid to withstand the sensations - and not to show his tormentors any reaction. Unknown to him, Curt was giving his tormentors the exact response they wanted and knew they would get from him - as they got from all of their previous victims. This was just a prelude of what was to come, to make him think he fooled them.

After Curt was forced to endure 30 intense agonizing minutes of the light touching of his body, Aaron brought both hands back to his own face to sniff his fingers that were coated with the heavy pungent dank smell of Curt's hairy armpits. The armpits stink of a very handsome straight college frat boy. An athlete. On his fingers. The scent caused Aaron's d.i.c.k to harden even more - as it did for his friends watching.

He took the ball gag out of Curt's mouth, now thoroughly coated with his spit, wanting the boy's threats and screaming to be fully heard and recorded.

They knew this particular boy was built for defiance - which was a huge part of their almost idol-like attraction toward him. They hoped he would retain that boyish defiance at some level throughout the time they would have him. It clearly enhanced already his marketability especially to certain very wealthy Arabs, European, South American and Asian businessmen who loved such attributes and subscribed to the very exclusive live video streaming of this and other beautiful boys. Curt was definitely a prized and coveted piece of merchandise - his value further added with the posting of the thousand or so photos and short videos taken of his shirtless by his neighbor. .

Curt, not saying anything, exhaled loudly with his entire body suddenly losing tension after being subjected to the unwanted touching. He breathed deeply, thinking he was successful in hiding his weakness of being extremely ticklish but was still terrified that they would even try to do such a thing. He had no idea that he was already doomed for the worst intense never-ending tickle torture in the history of the facility. Dozens of rich subscribers paid thousands of dollars for that event to happen - though Curt would face other ordeals first.

Still bewildered Curt realized that he was tied up, helpless. They could do anything to him. He thought that he would be r.a.p.ed or physically abused in some way.

But he had the misfortune of all good-looking athletic young males - that he was man enough to overcome a lot of pain. He never thought until now about tickling or edging or milking that would be done to him. Or the intense amount of pain that another person could inflict if they were sadistic and creative enough. These guys were.

With only a few minutes respite from the near tickle touching of his body, Bobby placed his hands on Curt's muscled sweaty meaty pecs putting his long fingers on each of his dark quarter sized n.i.p.p.l.es haloed by a hairs, kneading the prominent n.i.p.p.l.es gently at first, between his fingers and thumbs while Curt s.u.c.k.e.d in his stomach, and tightened his c.h.e.s.t, trying not to react. Having Bobby touch him anywhere - but especially his n.i.p.p.l.es - made Curt's skin crawl.

Both Bobby and Eric bent over slightly to suck hard on Curt's n.i.p.p.l.es - l.i.c.k.i.n.g, then lightly biting both, and then s.u.c.k.i.n.g hard as if Curt was nursing some overgrown babies. The nibbling and hard s.u.c.k.i.n.g of his n.i.p.p.l.es by two guys who pulled the nodules as far as it could go caused an intense mixture of stinging pain and unwanted sensation of p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e that caused Curt's semi hard sausage to flex o.b.s.c.e.n.ely in front of his tormentors. Curt yelled at them to stop and tried to back his c.h.e.s.t away, muttering "F.u.c.kin sick....this is sick....." But his body was too tightly restrained and his tormentors continued their biting, nibbling and s.u.c.k.i.n.g of Curt's t.i.t.s.

Both Eric and Bobby saw what Curt was trying to do and quickly pinched hard both of his already sore n.i.p.p.l.es and then pulled them back, forth and stretched them out from his pecs, with the same sadistic glee of some f.u.c.k.e.d up kid pulling the wings off a fly.

"OPEN YOUR F.U.C.KIN EYES!!! YOU AIN'T GONNA ACT LIKE THIS AINT HAPPENING!!!!! F.U.C.K YOU!!!!" Bobby spat and pinched and yanked hard on Curt's n.i.p.p.l.es.

Curt shrieked in pain - the loudest yell so far by their count - and he struggled again mightily in anger and frustration, cursing them and screaming "GOD STOP!!! OH SHIT!!!!! PLEASE!!!! OH GOD!!!! STOP STOP!!!!"

Eric backed away a little to watch as Bobby slapped the Curt's muscled pecs and then repeatedly over and over and over, slapping hard on his flat stomach - making it bright red as he gasped, clenching his teeth trying not to scream out the pain he felt.

Curt, his eyes wincing from the sharp stinging pain, gritted his teeth, grunted loudly, panting, and his muscled body thrashing back and forth. Tears welled and streamed from his eyes, though Curt still looked defiant muttering "I f.u.c.kin will kill you..." under his breath.

"You gonna cry little straight boy? Huh? Yeah? Can't take a little pain? Huh?" Bobby taunted Curt, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look at his face, now just two inches away. Curt felt the hot breath of his tormentor as he stared into his eyes. The forced intimacy - something they would do to Curt time and again - was unnerving to him.

Curt tried to turn his face away - cursing his tormentors "F.U.C.K YOU!!!!!" and trying to spit, but suddenly gasped for air as Bobby socked his hard stomach several times without warning. Then he continued slapping the boy hard on his flat stomach that left his hand imprint over and over. Several of the buyers watching on live stream video had requested this punishment specifically to see how the merchandise would react. He performed far beyond their expectations.

Curt, his eyes wet with tears from the stinging pain, glared at Bobby - hating him especially (remembering his intrusive behavior in the van. He sagged in his bondage, his c.h.e.s.t heaving from the n.i.p.p.l.e torture - he discovered now he couldn't bear the pain of his n.i.p.p.l.es being twisted. In his straight boy experience that type of physical assault would never have happened before except in very brief frat boy type horsing around. Never with the prolonged intensity done by Bobby and the others that exposed to Curt just how s.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e his n.i.p.p.l.es were.

Before his abduction, Curt always swaggered around campus and anywhere he went as the alpha male type tough guy. Others always deferred to him. He believed then that he could endure all kinds of pain, but that experience was strictly exertions as an athlete. Not like this. He would soon realize - as previous victims before him learned - that there was a special intensity and deliberate methodical way his abductors administered punishment that made it hard for Curt to withstand it. It was also the prolonged nature of the attacks too that broke down resistance.

His tormentors knew exactly what they were doing. Everything was calculated to approach, overcome and then go far, far past the internal boundaries of resistance of their victims without any time limitations. To his tormentors, Curt and all the other straight boys abducted before him, those internal boundaries of resistance were so low to be child's play. Straight boys had no idea.

A particular torment - tickle torture or c.o.c.k polishing or edging, electro torture - could go on and on and on and on with no discernible pattern or reason to the victim - but there was always a reason why they did what they did. For Curt and the other victims, the only thing for sure was that each torment was intense, calculated, brutal (if pain was involved), unbearable (if pleasurable sensations was involved) and always long.

Suddenly they all backed off - and the group of his fellow tormentors stared for a moment at their prize. Curt, relieved at the momentary pause of being abused, exhaled again deeply and stood trying to muster up the strength he knew he would need to face whatever was going to happen next.

He was sweating now from his brown haired arm pits, sweat coming from his c.h.e.s.t, down to his navel, down a trail of brown hair leading down to his now sweaty pubic bush, still hidden by his pants. He could see the group of guys staring back at him, l.i.c.k.i.n.g their lips with their eyes glazed in pure animal like l.u.s.t. He shuddered and closed his green eyes as if to shut out them out - knowing he was helpless his hellish descent into more and more humiliation and abuse. In his head he vowed to get loose somehow at the first chance - and would fight back no matter what. He would get through this and would ruin their expectations that he was some p.u.s.s.y who they could break down and beg. F.u.c.k that. He opened his eyes and glared back at them .

"This is f.u.c.k.e.d up man. Just let me go. Now." Curt said evenly, trying again not to show any reaction - though his body clearly was - and trying to act as if he could control the situation he was in as he was always able to do. But that was before his abduction. Now, it was disconcerting to Curt - used to getting his way and always being listened to - to being totally ignored. Not his body of course - just his protests and demands.

Daniel, hooded, came up to the boy, squatted, staring straight at Curt's flat belly and abs and began to unbuckle the wide belt, as he twisted and turned his lower body in a vain attempt to stop it. But he was chained and restrained too tightly to allow much movement. The hooded boy just slapped Curt's flat heaving stomach hard and finished unbuckling his belt, pulling it out off his jeans in one quick motion, holding it like some prize tossing it over to Bobby.

Another hooded guy - Curt couldn't tell who, walked a step or two to Curt bending over slightly and easily unfastened the top button of his sweaty damp jeans, despite the continued wild struggling of the boy.

"No...no man...stop...stop" Curt tried to say in a reasoned tone as if that would have any effect. "You don't want to do this, okay? Just stop...Stop!!!!"

Curt knew stripping him of his jeans that would leave him virtually n.a.k.e.d except for his u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r and that in turn would mean the **** of his a.s.s had to follow.

Curt glared with rage at the five guys from the van - plus the cameramen and others lurking around, noting how large in build some of those guys were. He tried to fight off the panic think of the monstrous horrible pain that he would surely feel when their hard faggot pricks tore up his hole. Oh my god he thought, his body involuntarily shaking from that fear before he asserted self control and defiance again. It was going to be horrible pain but he had to somehow survive it. It would be different from the torture of being tickled - which terrified him in a different way because he knew he had no defense and no way to endure it. They could overcome his attempts to withstand it in seconds.

But the ordeal of being r.a.p.ed - of having c.o.c.ks brutally shoved up a guy's a.s.s - that was pain he wasn't sure he could handle either. The only thing he could hang on to is that he was familiar with physical pain, being an athlete. But he wasn't sure though if he could withstand the physical pain either if it went on too long or was just f.u.c.kin brutal - something he feared by looking around the dungeon and seeing the frightening huge dildos, all kinds of wh.i.p.s, cops, sticks, ball presses and other torture tools.

And the other fear he wasn't sure how he would deal with was the brutal humiliation of being r.a.p.ed by another guy - f.u.c.k - not just one. Several. And who knows how many times? How could he handle that humiliation and shame mentally except with pure rage and a vow in his mind that he would somehow get revenge. Too many awful things to think about but now he told himself, he needed to focus on resistance. F.u.c.k them. He wasn't going to let them **** his a.s.s or make him respond. F.u.c.k them. He momentarily forgot about the tickling.

He could feel clammy hands on his slim waist, b.u.t.t and fingers grabbing at his pants - now unzipping it, the body heat of several guys squatting or bending over next to his splayed tied up legs, and the giggling, taunts and other noise they made as they stripped him. He gasped and struggled, cursing them, yelling at them to stop.

Several fingers danced up the sides of his twisting n.a.k.e.d sweating torso carefully - not to trigger a tickle response - but to illicit a borderline unbearable ticklish like sensation that also sparked an erogenous response from Curt's sweaty muscled body. Curt gasped. His body tightened as he continued to try to twist and turn in a futile struggle to stop it, to stop his being stripped and to somehow break free.

The sudden and continued erogenous type touching of his sides and stomach caused him to panic again about being tickled - on top of being r.a.p.ed.

As his body was being assaulted - even if not causing pain - his overloaded mind suddenly raced through previous events for a clue to what was happening to him now - for any points of reference.

In a quick flash he remembered what he then thought were innocent incidents in the past that now seemed tinged with unwanted and perverted overtones. That faggot up took pictures of him. A doctor during an exam who tried but failed to get his finger up his rectum for what he said was a prostate exam, though he wondered why he would be doing that given his age. And how red and embarrassed the doctor was after Curt told him to stop. The assistant coach who always seemed to show up next to Curt as he was toweling himself off in the locker-room. Or the teammate in high school who he caught trying to leave the locker-room with his dirty sweaty jock hanging out of his jacket pocket, turning red saying that he thought it was his - not Curt's.

The several times he had to replace dirty sweaty jocks and u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r in high school and college that seemed to disappear for no reason - though now he realized why - with his body tied up, touched and being stripped of his clothes in preparation to be r.a.p.ed by guys. In a quick flash the thoughts came and went in his head. He raged. All f.u.c.k.i.n.g faggots - all f.u.c.k.i.n.g perverts. Now THIS was happening to him. F.U.C.K!!!! F.U.C.K!!!! F.U.C.K!!!! F.U.C.K!!!!!

Furious at his abduction and now what was happening to him, Curt yanked hard on the cuffs on his wrists, shaking his spread-eagled arms and legs in a burst of energy, cursing at his tormentors and - to their amus.e.m.e.nt - commanding them to stop. Now.

His tormentors loved it when he gave orders just like an arrogant entitled jock would do - if he was still in control. But he wasn't, a fact that he - like the others straight boy victims before him - would soon find out.

Twisting and turning as much as he could, Curt realized, like the zombies on "Walking Dead", nothing he said would stop his abusers from their frenzied mob-like attack on his body. They ignored his threats and his struggling seemed to excite them even more. The two hooded guys grabbing his jeans suddenly, in two moves, tugged Curt's pants down from his muscled t.h.i.g.hs - stopped only by the spread of his legs. They both grabbed at the fabric - from behind and in front and the sides, pulling at it and succeeded in ripping the jeans apart causing a stinging burning sensation on Curt's t.h.i.g.hs and legs.

"F.U.C.K!!! SHIT STOP STOP!!!!" he yelled.

In awe seeing straight boy Curt's magnificent muscled body nearly n.a.k.e.d, they paused to stare at their prize. Standing tied up spread eagle Curt was left only wearing his tight bulging boxer b.r.i.e.f.s, damp with his sweat and grime. The several video cams and digital cameras continued taking pictures and videos of Curt being stripped - and now standing spread-eagle, restrained, almost n.a.k.e.d.

They continued to stare at Curt's sweaty almost n.a.k.e.d body. What a s.e.xy and e.r.o.t.i.c sight the hooded men thought as did the audience of potential buyers watching live video stream. What a specimen of the ultimate beautifully muscled college frat boy athlete. Straight, handsome and helpless. And theirs. He would fetch a huge amount of money for sure - after they had their fun with him. And they had the luxury of two weeks to do it .

By pre-arrangement among the five original guys in the van, Bobby approached the boy, who was breathing hard, trying to keep his composure, and went behind him, suddenly embraced him like a lover and put his arms and hands around Curt's waist, pinching at his non-existent love handles - getting only muscle.

They all knew how much Curt detested especially Bobby when they were riding in the van. He put his hot wet mouth and face behind Curt's ear and the back of his head, his hair damp from sweat from struggling, inhaling the scent, lapping and nibbling his ear lobe, then biting and nibbling his neck over and over whispering in Curt's ear "Hey baby, guess who???"

"OH NO!!!! OOOH SHIT NO!!!! F.U.C.K!!! NOOOOOOO NOOOOOO NOOOOO!!!!!" Curt screamed out as he wildly tried to break free, enraged and repulsed by what was being done to him as if he was some f.u.c.k.i.n.g bitch.

Holding the boy even closer and tighter now, Bobby continued to bite at the boy's ear lobe, thrusting his pointed hot wet tongue as far into his ear canal as he could, tasting the salty sweat there with his tongue as Curt winced at the almost unbearable unwanted pleasurable sensations. A guy - THIS guy especially - is doing this to me...a guy is doing this to me...f.u.c.k!!!! Curt thought with total revulsion, wanting to feel like he needed to vomit. Only the biting, tonguing and l.i.c.k.i.n.g was causing a different physical reaction to the straight boy's body.

Bobby was infatuated with Curt as soon as they had seen him on the road - and even before that when they spied on him in that gas station restroom hidden video. So Bobby's reaction was animal-like, thrusting his tongue even deeper in Curt's ears, biting harder on the lobes, and then on his neck leaving a trail of deepening red marks, as if Curt was some cheap whore. Curt, feeling repulsed by a guy doing this to him, was even more humiliated because Bobby's assault with his tight unwanted embrace, was so intimate and invasive. The struggling boy winced at the biting and tonguing and desperately buckled his upper body as hard as he could, moving his head trying to get Bobby to stop, shouting "STOP STOP DON'T TOUCH ME!!!! F.U.C.K!!! F.U.C.K!!!"

Bobby's hands moved freely up and down Curt's heaving flat stomach, drilling a finger or two into his belly button, causing Curt to gasp, and in a frenzied violent burst tried to break free, cursing him and the others eyes wide with pure hate towards them. Bobby in response, humiliated Curt even more by nuzzling his neck, biting hard in several places, and again on his ear lobes, loving the feel of his struggling as he was doing it. Bobby's nibbling and tonguing and fondling of Curt's body grew even more frantic because he knew he was the first guy to do this to him. And knowing that he was the first to taste this prized piece of straight boy meat.

He grabbed Curt's waist even tighter making any movement even harder. To Curt's horror he could feel, even though Bobby was still fully clothed, what felt like an enormous large hard c.o.c.k pressing up against the crack of his a.s.s, protected only by his tight boxer b.r.i.e.f.s. Bobby continued in a l.e.w.d up and down motion to rub his hard huge meat against Curt's a.s.s crack. At that, Curt's mind and body went into sheer panic rage hating this assault on his body and thinking his **** was imminent.

"AAAAH SHIT!!! NOOOOOOOO!!! F.U.C.K STOP STOP DON'T TOUCH ME F.U.C.K!!!!!" Curt yelled and tried to twist his neck and move his head to push Bobby away.

But Bobby just squeezed his arms even tighter, pressing his body even tighter against Curt's, while continuing to tongue and bite his neck and ears. The scent of Curt's hair, neck and ears - and the boy's thrashing around - was driving Bobby and the others - and the those viewing live video stream - wild with l.u.s.t. Bobby's arms continued to move up and down Curt's twisting heaving n.a.k.e.d torso, fingering his bellybutton, pinching the skin of his sides and abs, moving up to his pecs and pinching his n.i.p.p.l.es and then on down again, repeating the movement over and over as Curt screamed out in rage from the pain, the touching and the revulsion.

Two of the other guys now came to Curt's front, his lower body twisting in desperate attempts this way and that to break free - and to get away from Bobby's relentless tonguing and biting of his ears and neck and fondling and touching of his fingers and hands on his stomach and sides. Though he hated it, he realized with shame and desperation that it caused intense e.r.o.t.i.c electric like responses to his body, and to his utter disbelief, a rush of blood thickening his throbbing jock meat. But Curt's mind was in total confusion trying to stop Bobby and couldn't focus but for a few seconds on why his body was responding as if this assault was pleasurable or why the center of his maleness - his straight boy p.u.s.s.y loving prick - was feeling tingly and getting hard. It was fear and nerves he quickly thought as he yelled at them to stop. F.u.c.k them. He shouted and yelled even more as he struggled in vain seeing that the two guys kneeling beside him were now just inches away from his u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r. Oh my god - this is it, Curt thought with dread. Once that was gone, he was f.u.c.k.e.d. Literally.

Both guys in front now grabbed at the waistband of his boxer b.r.i.e.f.s, hanging low on the boy's slim waist - and tugged it down slowly, as Curt tried to twist his body this way and that to stop them to no avail. They continued tugging it down, and exposed to the video live streaming audience - and to those in the room - the last piece of clothing covering the struggling angry and embarrassed straight boy. They stopped for a second, with the u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r waist band pulled down enough to show the top of Curt's thick brown pubic bush.

Meanwhile Bobby, still behind Curt , tightened his hold on the boy, making it even harder for him to struggle, and continued to lick, nibble and bit at his neck and ears as the boy yelled and screamed in rage. Bobby's fingers wandered down to Curt's exposed pubes, brushing the tops of the hairs, and then scratching the area with a feathery touch. Curt hated Bobby's unwanted hug that forced an intimacy on him that made his skin crawl and somehow increased the humiliation he felt of being manhandled by other men.

"OH SHIT....F.U.C.K...STOP STOP STOP!!!!" Curt yelled as he struggled even more, desperate to stop what was happening or slow them down.

After letting the live video streaming potential buyer's time to admire Curt's body with his u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r that was pulled down enough to expose his wiry brown pubes, both guys kneeling before him now tugged again, slowly showing the root of his man stalk, and then a few inches more as more of the shaft came to view. They paused. It's the first time they saw - in the flesh (and not just from the video they saw of Curt using the gas station restroom) - the boy's thick straight boy f.u.c.k meat. The straight d.i.c.k that f.u.c.k.e.d so many hot chicks and was always in control. Bobby, still tightly holding Curt's body from behind, let his fingers lightly touch the root of Curt's semi-hard d.i.c.k, tickling the base of the thickening man meat of this straight boy athlete. Dancing his fingers up and down the few inches exposed as Curt writhed.

"OOOOOH SHIT...OOOH NOOOO..." Curt hissed and yelled "STOP STOP"

Left with only his boxer b.r.i.e.f.s that were slowly being tugged down his h.i.p.s, Curt knew he was just seconds away from being stripped totally n.a.k.e.d exposing his a.s.s and d.i.c.k to these perverts and having his junk touched. He buckled and struggled even more furiously like a crazy man.

They waited, mesmerized with growing l.u.s.t by the sight of this handsome straight boy tied up spread-eagle, his body struggling to break free, stripped down to his tight bulging boxer b.r.i.e.f.s that now exposed his pubes and several inches of his semi hard shaft that was held tight against his body by the waistband of his b.r.i.e.f.s. They loved seeing the boy's slab of muscled abs grow rigid by his struggling, with the treasure trail of brown hairs below his belly button disappearing under the waistband of his b.r.i.e.f.s.

After a few more minutes of staring - front, back, side views of Curt, without warning, each hooded guy grabbed more of the fabric and the waistband of the u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r, stretching it out until it ripped into shreds, into two pieces in the hands of both guys, exposing Curt's beautiful tight bubble b.u.t.t a.s.s, and his impressive semi-hard uncut straight boy prick that flopped back and forth against his muscled t.h.i.g.hs over his loose walnut sized balls hanging in a wrinkly looking scrotum bag. Back and forth his straight boy f.u.c.k stalk flopped, his foreskin pulled back exposing the purplish s.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e knob, the shaft getting harder and harder - to his humiliation and confusion - as his body struggled in anger to his being molested and stripped.

All of the guys whooped out a victory yell, taunting the still struggling boy with loud wolf whistles as Curt , still hooded, hung his head in deep embarrassment from being stripped n.a.k.e.d and also because his straight boy f.u.c.k rod was clearly nearly hard and l.e.w.dly bouncing up and down and back and forth. The motion was making it even harder. Curt, in despair and rage, was now fully stripped n.a.k.e.d - with his swinging huge meat on the verge of total straight boy steel hardness, with the tip already wet with clear gooey pre-c.u.m. How did that happen? He couldn't believe or comprehend it. His mind in total confusion and embarrassment he saw one of the guys who ripped off his u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r come up to his face, holding the part of the b.r.i.e.f.s with the crotch panel, and sniffed at it greedily, inhaling Curt's sweaty musky crotch odors there - and showing Curt, just an inch away, the stains on his u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r, and then sniffing it further.

Curt's eyes grew wide with revulsion - and he yelled "F.U.C.K NO NO GET THE F.U.C.K AWAY YOU SICK FAG!!!" trying to break free of Bobby's death-like hug of his body from behind and the still tonguing and biting of his ear and neck - now marked all over by his bites.

Curt's mind now was in complete disarray. Having little real knowledge of gay s.e.x, Curt, until this moment at first didn't think his abductors would be messing too much with his d.i.c.k and balls other than to grab it to make a point. He thought their main objective was to **** his a.s.s - like what he saw or heard about those jail movies punking the new young inmates. Dirty, brutal - but to the point. Yeah, he would fight it - because every second he did, even if futile, would delay it and help him not to be overwhelmed in his mind of the sheer fear that was growing inside of him of having his a.s.s punked by these faggots.

But he was confused. That wasn't happening - at least not yet. So what were they doing to him? What was this other shit they were doing to him now? Seeing them sniff his dirty u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r now made Curt realize he was at the mercy of some sick dudes.

And his body was reacting - responding - while being attacked - with confused signals that reminded him being touched and teased by the girls he had been with - and yet the pain was like no other he experienced. And the constant threat of being tickled - though he didn't know if that was their intent - terrified him. He had no defense at all against that and he knew it. The mere thought of them doing that to him caused Curt a panic that he had to use every bit of his will power to control. He prayed to himself that they wouldn't find out or force his body to respond.

Curt, still struggling, now completely n.a.k.e.d, and whispered in a mutter to himself "Oh shit...this is...f.u.c.kin sick sick sick" as his hard f.u.c.k pole l.e.w.dly swung up, down, back and forth. The effect made his d.i.c.k even harder and intensified the l.u.s.t of his tormentors - and the many watching the live video stream. And Curt didn't realize that every word he spoke was picked up by the video microphones, including one that was earlier looped around his neck to pick up the softest sound and whisper.

Bobby loosened his tight embrace of the still struggling angry Curt and knelt, inhaled deeply smelling Curt's sweaty a.s.s crack odor, and then placed his hot tongue on the spine of his lower muscled back, l.i.c.k.i.n.g that area. Curt's body bolted forward from the sensation as he yelled in total shock that anyone would put their face down there.

"SHIT!!!! NOOOOO!!!!!" Curt yelled, his body twisting to get away from Bobby's l.i.c.k.i.n.g tongue and face. It repulsed Curt to think another guy was doing this to him. And yet, despite his revulsion, his thick jock meat was getting even harder, bouncing up and down and sideways like a huge f.u.c.k stick.

Bobby grabbed the boy's waist hard, and worked his way slowly, nibbling and biting Curt's milky white bubble b.u.t.t cheeks. He brought his nose to the top of Curt's slightly hairy a.s.s crack inhaling the very strong musky scent, and parted the cheeks, as Curt gasped - thinking he was moments away from being r.a.p.ed. The straight youth still did not comprehend that his entire body would be abused.

A pair of hands on either cheek forced it to spread apart to show Curt's hidden hairy man trench as the boy yelled, for the live stream video cameras that did a close up of the boy's tight clenched hole. Mesmerized by the sight of this straight boy's previously hidden tight rosebud v.i.r.g.i.n hole, Bobby using his fingers lightly tickled the crack and the puckered hole as Curt hollered, buckled and cursed them He then licked it all the way down, and up, savoring the intense sharp taste and odor, darting his tongue around the edges of boy's v.i.r.g.i.n anus, and then forcing it into the tight clenched hole.

"WHA....WHA...SHIT OOOOH...WHATTHEF.U.C.K??!!! STOP STOP SO SICK SO F.U.C.KIN...OOOOH OOOOH SHIT F.U.C.KINSICKSHIT STOPSTOP!!!" Curt gasped in disgust. He couldn't believe anyone - especially another dude - would sink so low in his mind to lick his dirty asshole. Sick. F.u.c.kin sick.

Each lick of Bobby's tongue was hot, especially when the tongue darted and danced at the entrance of his v.i.r.g.i.n hole, sending electric shockwaves to every point of his body, making his meaty shaft even harder and causing his body to shudder involuntarily. Despite hating his a.s.s crack pried open for public display and l.i.c.k.i.n.g, his body was responding against his will.

More worship of Curt's perfect a.s.s would come later - and Bobby, after several more minutes pulled away from Curt, pinching his left a.s.s cheek hard, causing the boy to gasp and then yell in pain, and then spanked both muscled cheeks hard with his hand before stepping back.

Now Curt hung there with the leather hood, n.a.k.e.d - and gorgeous, scared and tense - though still defiant and angry. They stared at him - seeing how bondage p.o.r.n star beautiful he looked.

Aaron went through his bag and backpack - spreading out on the floor his personal belongings. Pairs of clean u.n.d.e.r.w.e.a.r (boxer b.r.i.e.f.s, boxers), t-shirts, jeans, pants, some dress shirts, socks - these were of some interest, but Aaron was looking for any dirty clothes that he might have been carrying. Sure enough, rolled up in a dirty black t-shirt was went smelled to be his dirty pair of blue boxer b.r.i.e.f.s and black athletic socks. Both had strong, intense odors - must have been clothes he wore the morning he left. Aaron's eyes almost rolled back from the male scent he smelled. He showed the dirty boxer b.r.i.e.f.s, and t-shirt, holding it to Curt's nose so he would be forced to inhale the odor.

"Man this smells great, doesn't it Pretty Jock Boi? F.u.c.k you are so f.u.c.k.i.n.g beautiful dude - I am going to get off on this for days!!!!" Aaron exclaimed, putting the items in a plastic bag to preserve the smell longer.

Curt looked at the scene with disgust, saying nothing.

Now kneeling just to the side of Curt, so not to block the view of the video cams, Bobby brought his face right into the boy's damp sweaty brown wiry pubic hair, inhaling the strong musky smells made stronger because of the intense heat and humidity before they abducted him. He kept his face there for a minute or two, while Curt, in disbelief that another guy would do that, tried hard to push him away, using his lower body. It didn't work.

"OH NO!!! SHIT!!!!! STOP....STOP!!!!! DON'T TOUCH ME!!!! DON'T...F.U.C.K!!!" he yelled.

Two of the guys got to the poles that Curt's arms and legs were tied to - and pulled at the chains and rope that tightened the restraints even more - stretching his sweaty body out that made it impossible now for the youth to twist or turn in any direction. Only his muscled flat stomach - heaving now for air - showed any significant movement. His body stretched out and spread-eagle was n.a.k.e.d and totally exposed to his tormentors both front and back and sides. And there was nothing he could do about it - now his struggling would be reduced to making his body grow taut, flexing his arm and leg muscles, closing his hands in fists and curling his toes as his acts of physical defiance.

"Oh no...oh no....shit...oh God.." he muttered in desperation that he had tried to hide, knowing his predicament was descending deeper into the hellish ordeal he still was in disbelief about.