Str8 Part Two - Eight Loving Arms

I’m an adult, Marco told himself as he looked to the window of the adult sex toy store, adults do this sort of thing all the time.  It doesn’t mean anything.  But Marco was also the man who ordered all of his condoms and lubricants online so he didn’t have to deal with a cashier.  He pushed open the car door, closed it, locked the car, and kept moving his feet.  This was a virginal experience and he felt ashamed.  But he was doing this for Heather, he told himself, and he’d do anything for her.  So what if he had to confront an embarrassing situation, he told himself, the other night he just talked about anal sex with his gay, best friend.  I’ll do it.  I’m doing it.  But he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder as he entered.

He stepped into the store and for a moment he almost turned and ran out but decided that would be more embarrassing so he stepped in further.  But he froze in his tracks when he looked to the counter and spotted a man and a woman behind it.  Which do I pick?  Which will pick me?  I’m so embarrassed I must be the color of a tomato.  He looked down to the carpet, his shoes, and moved his feet until he was the farthest away he could get to the farthest wall, and he found himself standing in front of a wall of sex toys, some he had seen but many he had not.  And there were these pup masks, horse masks, bull whips hung loose for testing and for a moment he panicked about accidentally brushing against it.  Would that tool of pain feel so good dragged across his skin?  He reached to his chest and started to turn his feet.  But where do I go?  He needed help.  But which to choose?

The obvious choice would be the woman but she reminded him too much of Heather so he looked to the man who stood in a slightly effeminate way, perfect, reminds me of Roger, he thought.  He looked between them then settled on the man, Clark.

“This is a penis thing,” he whispered to his coworker.

“Don’t you think that straight boy would be more comfortable with me?”

“Look at him, a doe in front of a hunter, you’d freak him out because he’d be thinking about sex.  I’m none threatening because he doesn’t want to have sex with me, even though I desperately want to have sex with him.”

“If he runs-”

“Please, I’m a penis professional,” he replied.  “I’ll be right there,” he yelled across the store before stepping from behind the counter.  He moved to Marco, clasped his hands together lightly.  “How can I help you sir?”

“I’m looking for a gift for my wife.  This is kind of the last place I want to be but I’d do anything for her, so it’s like, but I don’t know what she wants.  I mean we never really talked about it, well, not completely.  I mean she’d recommend something and maybe I’d say something but, you know, it wasn’t like serious.  We’ve always had great sex.”
That last word escaped him as if it were his last breath and he placed his hands on his knees as he bent over gasping for breath.

“Can I sit down somewhere?”

“Come with me dear,” Clark replied before walking away and motioning with his finger for him to follow.  “Can we get this man some water?”

Marco moved across the store to the counter where he found a stool and sat on it.  He leaned against the counter until the woman, Jennifer, handed him a bottle of water.  Clark motioned for her to leave them and for a moment she resisted until he made a more insistent motion making her smirk as she stepped away.

“I’m sure you two have great sex,” Clark said, “but you, or her, well you want something a little more, like a spice.  There’s nothing wrong with a spice.”

“My favorite meal is a hamburger and fries,” Marco replied.

“A plain boy then,” Clark said, “you really are vanilla.  Okay, well, let’s think.  Okay, think of it like this gift you’re giving your wife, but it’s like Christmas everyday for her, whatever it is.  Whenever the two of you, or just her, use this thing it’s like Christmas morning.”

“Okay, I can think about it that way,” Marco said.

He downed the last of the water and gathered his breath.  They started to walk.  And for once as he looked at the items he started to laugh.  It wasn’t the kink, the toy just looked ridiculous.

“See, we can all laugh a little about sex,” Clark said, “It’s not such a big deal.”

“I feel better now,” Marco replied, “really I do.”

“Okay, well, let’s just see if there’s something that gets your attention.”

And they walked up and down the aisles mostly pointing out different things to each other.  Back at the wall Clark got Marco to run the bull whip over his forearm.  Marco giggled a little and put it back immediately as if it had stirred something in him and he was afraid.  They explored every aisle, every display, it felt like they had been through every turn in a maze and yet were still lost.  Finally Clark stopped him in the back of the store away from the few customers who had stopped in while they were browsing.

“What is it you’re looking for?  We’ve passed the whips and chains, handcuffs, and you didn’t want any of that.  You said you want a present for your wife.  Is there something special you want?”

“Yes, I need something special, something really special.”

“What are we talking about?”

“I want something different.  I want something special.”

“How much do you got?”

“I’ve got a thousand dollars to spend.”

“Really?  Oh, well that changes things, come with me.”

And there it was, a curtain if beads Marco hadn’t seen previously.  Clark stepped through and Marco followed after.  This back room was dark and dusty, lit by different colored bulbs, red lights, purple lights, orange.  The room was illuminated yet it had these dark shadows and he couldn’t tell just how big the room was.

“Over here,” Clark waved him to a table where it looked like there was a sculpture, an octopus, carved from wood.  “Do you believe in magic?”

“I mean I’m skeptical, not like real magic, but I guess I’m agnostic.  I want it to be real.  I guess.  What are you talking about?”

“Right here is a gift guaranteed to grant your wife’s best fantasy.  All of the way from Japan, this little sculpture is capable of completely satisfying your wife.  What do you think?”

“It looks like a piece of wood.  It’s a nice piece of wood, but I don’t know.  She’d hate me if I got her just this.”

“Is there something else she wants?”

“Look, I didn’t feel like saying this out there, but she wants to fuck me in the ass.”

“Oh, well, I’ll tell you what.  If you buy this sculpture and promise she’ll give it a try then I’ll throw in the small and large dildos as well as a harness.”

“Really?  But I have to pay for that?”

Clark ran his hand along the statue from one end to the other as if caressing a pet.  Marco tightened his shoulders.

“Okay, I’ll give you seven hundred fifty dollars worth of stuff, so really it will just cost you two hundred and fifty dollars.”

“I guess,” Marco squeaked.

“I know if I just go home with just this thing she’ll definitely shove it up my ass.”

Clark let out a laugh and clapped his hands.

“Oh she will be so satisfied.  I’ll write out the directions for her.”

Marco felt completely happy as he paid for everything and left the store with a bit of pep in his step.  He had been to his first adult store and it was fun, plus he got such a good deal.  He had stopped counting how much free stuff he was getting.  The man seemed to be picking it out more from amusement and joy than anything else.  He put his bag in the trunk and felt satisfied that he’d have a story to tell.

But the feeling was completely opposite when he got home.  Despite the fact that his wife wasn’t home he ran through the rooms to get to the bedroom where he dumped out the bag on the bed.  He saw a few obvious things: the statue and a pair of cuffs, but then he started looking through everything else and his heart sunk.  Everything was for her, leather harness, a collection of dildos, small, medium, large, and holy shit, he picked it up.  How did he get this in here?  There’s no way I’m taking this, Marco said to himself, okay, new game plan, he told himself.

Just the octopus statue.  This was it.  This was just for her, some kind tentacled little toy that would satisfy her most secret desire.  He’d try this first and hide the rest.  And if she really hated it, like really hated it, then he could think about the other things.  So he picked it up and set it aside before she came back and walked in on him. He hid all of the other toys first, then hid the statue where she couldn’t find it easily but it was still convenient for him.  He paced the floors, played videogames, and even washed the dishes.  He told himself repeatedly not to make a big deal of it but he couldn’t keep the secret and as soon as she got home he took her to the bedroom and got it out for her.

“What’s this?”

“It’s supposed to fulfill your desires.”

“It’s wood.”

“There’s instructions.”

“Okay,” she said dryly.

“Do you like it?”

“What’s it supposed to do?”

“I just told you.”

“Well, I’ll play with it later I guess,”

And she tossed it on the bed and they left it there.  They went into the kitchen, cooked a meal, ate dinner, and it all felt so normal as they made their way to the couch with a glass of wine in hand.  She rubbed at his chest, rubbed at his crotch, then looked him in the eye.  He was ready for it.

“Why am I bothering with you when I have a piece of wood in the bedroom?” she asked before getting up and stepping away.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to bed,” she said.

Marco felt his erection begin to deflate, ejaculate leaked against his underwear.  He wanted her back and yet he knew she was just teasing him.  She’d keep up this ruse for an hour or so then when he got to bed she’d want him.  And she walked away so he opened his jeans and began to rub at his dick as he changed the video on the television.  He heard her close the bedroom door and he shrugged it off.  But it wasn’t long before he was paying more attention to the movie than his dick and it shrunk in his lap until his hand was out and slick in the palm and fingers with cum.  He sat there like that for almost an hour when the credits ran and he found himself sitting there in his living room like that, his jeans open, dick peaking out of his underwear.  He got up, fastened his jeans, took care of everything including locking the door and went to the bedroom where he was disappointed to find Heather was asleep with a book in one hand and her vibrator in the other.

He picked up the octopus statue and carried it into the bathroom.  He ran some water in the tub and dropped it inside and he looked over the rest of the directions.  Though they were mostly about just relaxing and reaching some kind of meditative state.  He laughed it off.  Looks like I got a new bath tub toy, he laughed himself as he watched it float back and forth with the currents of the water.  He stripped down, tested the water, then slowly stepped into it before lowering himself down.  The warmth was almost too much as it came up just over his shoulders to his neck.

The house didn’t have much but they bought it for two features.  The dining room where they imagined having dinner with friends and family, and the bathtub, one of those old cast iron, deep tubs.  He closed his eyes and covered them with a damp cloth.  He felt as if he had lost all cohesion as he felt the warmth.  He stretched and rubbed over his body.  For a moment he completely forgot about the octopus until he felt it bump into his toe, a wooden log in his bath, she hated it so now he’d definitely have to tell her about the other toys, well maybe not all of them.

He could introduce them slowly, maybe the cuffs, then maybe some of the whips.  He could never imagine himself striking her but he’d do it for her, and that’s when he felt it, something around his ankle and yet it felt so light it was just something he had imagined.  But then something tickled his thigh, his side, and his ribs.  He could imagine Heather there, a firm grip on his foot, her hands up his legs, fingers tip toed their way up his ribs and dug into his arm pits with her thumbs, her body on top of his, legs against legs, chest against chest, the warmth and softness against his hard dick pressed it against his belly.

Kisses all over his body, the skin sucked until he squealed a little with each one up and down his body like little fireworks, a new one went off before the last had faded.  Held down, kissed all over, lips to his lips but there was no breath just something squishy that pushed into his mouth, thicker than a tongue he thrashed about until he knocked the rag from his eyes and looked to the foot of the tub where he saw it.  He saw that octopus statue but it wasn’t a piece of wood any longer, no it was a real creature and it had eight tentacles, two that ran along the side of the water to his wrists where they grappled him, six more down in the water slowly taking hold of parts of his body, his ankles, his thighs, his ribs.

They stretched as they secured each part of him and he began to squirm and try to fight back but it was strong, much stronger than him, and he felt himself being stretched, his legs pulled up out of the water as a tentacle reached that most private part of his body.  He felt it touch him right there.  His soft, tight hole, but it was slick and narrow enough.  It felt like a tongue at first but then it felt different as it pushed inside of him.  He tried to catch his breath and cry out but the one in his mouth pushed into his throat, back and forth so that he could barely breath.  He was getting it in both ends.  The little ridges under the tentacle tickled his skin as they ran over his body, especially his nipples.  He felt so full.  He felt so unable to stop it.  Yet it felt so good, his dick stuck out from his body, so hot, so stiff.  He felt it lift him from the bottom of the tub.  He was now completely controlled by it.

There was no fear of the past and no fear of the future.  He felt it manipulating him and he loved it.  It was indeed his wife’s greatest fantasy, him getting it from both ends.  He felt the changes of girth as the tentacle moved in and out of him, touched him everywhere.  And it happened.  His dick fired.  And for a moment he thought it would end, but then he felt the octopus tighten its grip.

Round Two, he thought, and it was.  He felt every sensation, slow and building, endless.  He gagged on the tentacle in his mouth so it pulled out, slapped at his face as he chased it just to feel it again inside of him, feel his lips stretched.  It pulled from his anus and he wanted it back, loosened its grip and he tried to hold onto it. He thrashed with it, and it happened again.  He had another orgasm and he fell asleep.
When he awoke in the cold water, the wooden octopus hit against his toe and he pulled the rag from his eyes.  There was a knock on the door and Heather opened it.  She looked sleepy.

“Are you okay?  I heard you splashing around in here.”

“Fine, I just had a dream, must have thought I was drowning,” he joked, but then he felt that octopus hit his toe.”

“Well, you splashed water everywhere,” she said, “and I’m not cleaning it up.  Oh look, you’ve got that stupid thing in the water.  Was it any good?”

“Honey, there’s something I need to tell you,” he forced from his throat, “I got you some toys, sex toys, lots of them.  I want to try it.  I got you cuffs, a harness, dildos, everything, and I want it.  I want you to fuck me.”

She became the happiest he had ever seen.  She moved to him, kissed him on the lips.  She reached down to his dick and teased him for a moment before hinting that he should follow.  “Stay naked,” she said.  So he got out of the water, dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom.

Three hours later, the wooden octopus was above the fireplace in the living room, it looked down over him as he was on his hands and knees, locked into position with cuffs and rope, a ball gag in his mouth as he took the biggest dildo.  He felt it deep inside of his body, his hard dick rubbed between his thighs, his wrists bound to his thighs, ankles bound together.  He was completely vulnerable, stretched and split open.  Heather pushed inside of him completely to the base, tapped at his balls with her hand, stroked him to his third orgasm of the night.

Part 01: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/str8-ch-01-cfnm-tentacle-male.html
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Str8 Ch 01 CFNM, tentacle male

The summer heat lingered in the air as Marco and Roger sat on the pool deck to Roger’s home quietly drinking a 17 year old single malt Scotch.  This was their way to celebrate and wind down at the end of the week, no wife and no husband, just two old friends drinking together.  They had known each other since college, been roommates for a year before Roger finally came out about being homosexual.  Marco had suspected it since they first met because girls, young women, preoccupied his mind and he was always trying to figure out how to meet them, how to date them, and how to get them into bed.  When he was with another guy it was his favorite subject because he wanted to know any tip or trick to doing it.  Roger was the opposite, always shy about it, and Marco had suspected he was either gay or a virgin.

But then he realized most of Roger’s friends were women and that he could chat them up with ease, that’s when he realized his roommate was gay, well had his suspicions, and a after a year of waiting his friend finally said it, “I’m gay” to which Marco responded, “so can we work on your wingman skills to get me dates?”

That was actually how Marco met Heather, she was one of Roger’s friends and they’d all go out together.  Eventually the two got to talking and then Roger started setting them up on dates where he’d say something came up unexpected.  It worked three times until one night when Roger came back to their apartment and found Marco in the middle of a marathon of a show he knew he hadn’t watched before.  Marco walked into the room quietly and sat down.  He was just about to say something, accuse his roommate of setting them up on a date, when Roger spoke first.

“So how was your date?”

“So you were setting me up,” Marco replied with a bit of faked anger.

“Well, I knew that you liked each other and I was getting tired of being the third wheel, and I figured you two make a cute couple.  Did it work out?”

“I think I’m going to marry her,” Marco replied.

“Whoa, whoa, we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves,” Roger said.

But it was true, it happened.  And after college they got married.  For a while they all lived in the same apartment until one day Roger decided to move out.  He said he needed space, in truth he was tired of knowing his two best friends were having sex, and so he moved out first into an all gay house, though that didn’t last long, because he got tired of his roommates eating his food.  Marco and Heather moved out of the apartment a few months later and into their house which her parents helped them buy.  Roger struggled for years until he met his husband, Thomas, who Marco had introduced him to as one of their neighbors at Thomas’s pool party.

They had known each other so long that there wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other.  There were no more interesting stories, few surprises.  And that was the nice thing about being old friends, Roger thought, those quiet moments of silence when neither felt obligated to speak but after that moment had passed he looked to Marco who had an inquisitive look on his red face.  One too many drinks, this is going to be a good one, he thought so he prepared himself and took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’m finally drunk enough to ask this,” Marco said, his face got even more red as he spoke, “but I have to know...”

“Know what?”

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what-” Roger thought for a long moment, “oh, you mean- Why are you asking me about, you know, butt stuff?  Are you trying to get Heather to, you know, do it?  I don’t know what it’s like for a woman.  It’s different.  I mean, you know how it works right, about the prostate?”

“I’ve read a little about it, but it’s like, I don’t know.  I’ve gotten just about every opinion from it hurts to it doesn’t hurt and some people talk about the prostate but it seems like if the other person doesn’t know what they’re doing then it could go wrong.  I mean I’ve only ever stuck a finger up there and it’s like, I don’t know, good and bad at the same time, like it’s a different feeling, but I don’t think I could reach my prostate and so it’s like having something shoved up there just seems painful.”

“Are we still talking about the same thing?”

“What?”

“Are we talking about you getting Heather to have anal sex or are we talking about something else?”

Marco closed his mouth, retreated back into his chair, then crossed his arms.  Roger looked to him for a moment trying to elicit some further communication but when he saw how defensive his friend had gotten he wondered if he had made a mistake in the conversation.  Should he have just assumed that Marco was talking about himself?  Roger finished his drink and motioned for Marco to do the same, which he did, before pouring them each another shot.  Marco downed it then leaned back into the conversation.

“I need to say this before I can’t speak.  Heather wants to try pegging me.  For a while it was all she would talk about and that’s why I tried it on myself with my finger.  It was uncomfortable and to be honest kind of messy so like it’s not something I want to do without knowing about it.  Like it’s our five year anniversary coming up and I want to get her something special but when I’ve looked online at the dildos it’s very intimidating.  I saw this one...”

Marco’s words slowed to a stop and remained locked inside his brain as some thought that bounced around his head.  He sat back in his chair, then immediately took off his shirt and said he felt too warm.  Roger looked over his friend, smirked to himself that Marco was still fit, still worked out regularly.  He took the chance to observe his friend’s physique and his tattoos, then leaned back into his chair and tried to adjust his dick without being noticed.  He finished his drink and they both sat quietly looking into the pool that was partially illuminated by lights around its sides.  He looked to his friend and was about to speak when the sliding door opened and he looked up to see Thomas standing there with an amused look on his face.

“Two drunks sitting by the pool,” he said.

“I’m going for a swim,” Marco blurted out before standing.

“Wait, wait, phone,” Thomas said and Marco turned to him and handed over his phone and his wallet before walking to the pool and jumping into the water.  He made a large splash then stood up in the shallow end a few moments later and stepped backwards to the wall where he put out his arms on either side of him and exclaimed, “this feels so good.”

Thomas looked to Roger who motioned for him to sit and poured him a drink using Marco’s glass.  Thomas downed it and looked to where Marco stood in their pool and he had a realization.

“I think Marco is pissing himself in our pool,” he said.

“Better in the pool than pissing himself sitting here,” Roger replied.

“Yes,” Thomas said, “I wouldn’t want to clean up that mess.”

“What mess?” Roger asked.  He had forgotten what he had just said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Thomas answered.

“It’s all good.  We were just drinking.  I think we had too much, but Marco there deserves it.  Heather wants to stick a dildo up his butt.”

“I’m right here,” Marco said over his shoulder, “I can still hear you.”

“Really?” Thomas asked.

“Yes, she wants to peg him but he’s worried about the pain.  He says he stuck a finger up there and he’s not sure he likes it.  I think he should try one of Heather’s dildos.  That’s what I was going to say to him before he jumped in the pool.  He should try a dildo and then if he likes it she can go at him with one of those big ol’ strap ons.”

“It’s a popular thing now,” Thomas replied, “lots of straight guys are figuring out anal sex isn’t such a big deal.”

“I know, but they have to get over the emasculation first, and the fear of not being- not being a man- and they’ll realize it feels good.”

“And when was the last time something got put up your butt?” Thomas replied.

Roger looked to him.  It was their own personal secret, or at least private thing.  Roger was usually the top and rarely if ever did he put something up his butt even for just a little bit of fun.  He shook off the question and stood.  Thomas watched him begin to strip, not just his shirt but he dropped his shorts and underwear too.

“We still have company,” Thomas said, “and neighbors.”

“Marco has seen me.  I’ve seen him.  It’s no big deal.  It’s not like I’m going to fuck him.  Hey Marco are you okay with me being naked?”

“I’m fine,” Marco replied.

“Do you want to take off your clothes and we can go skinny dipping?”

“Too late,” Marco replied before tossing his soaking wet shorts and underwear onto the pool deck.

They both laughed and Thomas sighed before looking up to his neighbors’ windows to see if there were any lights on or any motion of someone watching them.  He didn’t see any so he just hoped for the best.  Roger walked to the pool, his feet slapped against the cement, and then he jumped into the water.  When he emerged Thomas was surprised to see him in a panic and stroking to reach Marco who quickly pulled him to the wall.  Thomas got up to his feet but stopped when he realized they were both safe, though they were face to face with Roger gripping the wall behind Marco.  They laughed and giggled.

“Aw dude, your dick is touching my dick,” Marco said.

“Sorry, it’s just, I almost drowned,” Roger replied, “I swallowed some water.”

“And it’s hard,” Marco said before trying to move Roger away to one side.

Roger gave in to his friend’s hands and moved beside him but clung to the wall.  Thomas sat and watched them carefully.

“I bet you’d never feel my hard dick again,” Roger joked.

“When did that happen?” Thomas asked from the shadows.

“Our second year together his parents came for something or other and we decided to share the bed-”

“We were sharing the room.  You decided to share the bed,” Marco replied.

“And you knew he was gay?”

“Yeah, I came out to him months prior.  Well, we both needed a good nights sleep so I asked him to share my bed.  It was fine at first, we even made up this little dividing line down the middle, but Marco here is a restless sleeper and at some point we got intertwined with each other, my hard dick ended up on his thigh by the time we woke up.  It was hilarious.”

“You thought it was hilarious, I blocked it from my memory until now.”

Thomas shook off the thought and cleared his throat.  He wanted a return to normal.  He wanted to go to bed but he didn’t want to leave two drunks, two naked drunks, in his pool.

“Are you both done?” he asked.

“I’m ready to get out,” Marco said.

“Me too, I’m too drunk for this.”

They both started to move along the wall to the stairs.  When Roger struggled with them Marco was quick to grab him from behind and push him up.  Together they emerged from the water and walked to where Thomas sat, Marco behind Roger partially holding him up and Roger half asleep.  Thomas was quick to take him in his arms and help them both inside where he let Roger slide to the ground and helped Marco to a chair.  He retrieved towels for them and helped his husband Roger to the bedroom before returning to find Marco asleep in the chair with the towel over his chest and his dick laying across his thigh.  He took a moment to appreciate the naked man before him then retrieved his phone and sent a text to Heather that Marco was drunk and would sleep it off at their house, then he locked the sliding door and strategically turned out the lights before going to the bedroom.

The next morning with the sunrise, Marco awoke to find himself naked in his best friend’s home not entirely sure why.  He wrapped the towel around himself, found his still wet clothes on the pool deck, then walked home to find Heather still in bed.  She helped him to it and they fell asleep together.  That afternoon Roger knocked at his door wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap.  He handed over his phone and wallet.  Marco invited him inside the house, a sheet wrapped around himself in some attempt at a toga.

“Are we still friends?” Roger asked.

“What all did we do?”

“Nothing, you know, I didn’t rape you.”

“Whoa, who said anything about rape?  I mean, I kind of remember what happened, and if anything I’d probably be the one raping you,” Marco shot back.

“I feel like shit,” Roger said to break the conversation.

“Little hair of the dog?”

“So we’re still friends?”

“Of course we’re still friends.  Our partners probably hate us, but of course we’re friends, even if you poked me in the belly with your little, hard dick,” Marco said.

“Little?”

“Okay, big, hard dick,” Marco said.
He poured them each a drink of whiskey and they downed it.  He motioned for Roger to sit on the couch and they sat next to each other.

“Is Heather out?”

“Yep.  Is Thomas out?”

“No, but he kind of said I had to find something to do for a while.”

“Kicked you out?”

“Just for a little bit.  I get kind of cranky when I’m hungover and he said I only can blame myself but we, you, had serious stuff to talk about last night.”

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do.  Are you going to do it?”

“I think so,” Marco replied.

“Then here, take this, it’s the address and number for a discreet sex toy store.  I recommend you go there and find the smallest dildo then work your way up.  You can get all kinds, some vibrate and they feel really good.”

“If I remember from last night you don’t stick anything up your butt,” Marco said.

“What?  You remember that?  No, it’s not, I mean...”

“Let’s never talk about this again?” Marco asked.

“Deal,” Roger replied.



Find the second part: https://brieflytoldstories.blogspot.com/2018/09/str8-part-two-eight-loving-arms.html
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Sparrow Ch 01 - Bottle Nose

Perched upon the grotesque of the Bannister Bank high above the city

Sparrow felt as if he made an imposing, threatening sight if anyone

saw him, but they didn’t.  They were all down there.  The feeling was

only for himself.  And he needed that feeling on a night like this

when his boss, his mentor, The Champion of Wattsburgh City, real name

Brad Wattson, was out of town on urgent League business. That’s how

this responsibility had fallen to him, urgent business, and he had to

give up his ordinary life to watch over the city, stop the bad guys

the cops couldn’t handle.

Just hours before he had been Luke Harden, a mild mannered college

student eating pizza after a 5 hour long study session in the library

with his friends, making his moves on his girlfriend to get her to

come back to his place when it all got interrupted by a notification

on his cell phone.  He pulled it from his pocket and for a moment he

thought about not answering but he knew the consequences if he didn’t.

He took the call and walked away from the table.  It was Brad telling

him he had to leave immediately and that he would be protecting the

city.  Well not him, but the Sparrow, the hero they had invented

together.  And it was done.  He went back to the table and invented an

excuse about his Uncle being sick and how he had to rush out to take

him some chicken soup or something, canceled plans with his

girlfriend, and he stormed out.

A quick drive to his apartment, open the secret compartment in the

back of his closet, costume and utility belt.  He snuck up to the roof

of his building, changed and hid his street clothes in a shadow, and

he was someone else.  The costume felt ridiculous, skin tight for the

most part, boots, gloves, a mask that covered his eyes, and the cape.

He had asked The Champion about why he had to dress that way several

times and the man always had an answer, the same answer, put fear into

the hearts of the criminals, but it never felt like that.  Though the

costume did have its benefits, skin tight meant he could be acrobatic

and there was little for the enemy to grab.  The cape made it easier

for him to hide in the darkness and it camouflaged his figure, made

his body a difficult target to hit.

He yawned into his hand, stretched his muscles as he listened to the

police band radio receiver in his ear.  Domestic disputes, vandalism,

and bar room brawls, none of those were the things he was supposed to

interfere with.  No he was supposed to take the difficult things, bank

robberies, hostage scenarios, anything where he could operate from the

shadows.  It was so boring he thought for a moment to go see what his

friends were up to, maybe even check on his girlfriend and make sure

she wasn’t with another guy.  He was about to give up and call it a

night, find something to occupy his time, when he got an alert of a

silent alarm at a Wattson Industries warehouse.

Those didn’t go directly to the police, Brad had those sent directly

to whoever was on duty.  Usually it was the man himself but in this

case Sparrow.  He pulled his grappling hook gun from his belt and

aimed it down at the edge of the building, once it was secured he

swung down, then lowered himself to the alleyway where he had parked

his personally issued, fully customized motorcycle.  He pulled the helmet from its special compartment and put it on his head before climbing onto it and

engaging the engine.  It roared to life.

“Time to go play guard dog,” he said under his breath.

Ten minutes later he was there, he spotted the broken gate and the van out

front immediately so he parked around back where no one could see,

then pulled himself onto the roof with another use of his grappling

gun.  He walked across the asphalt to look down on the van.  He

spotted one man inside it, the driver.  There could be anywhere from

one to five or more people inside, he reasoned.  I like those odds, he

said to himself with a smirk.

Inside the five henchmen and their boss Bottle Nose moved through the

building unaware that they had tripped an alarm, unaware of the

Sparrow on the roof.  They were searching for one thing in particular,

one crate.  They made their way up and down the aisles constantly

looking at their hands where they had written the number.

“615598,” one of them muttered to himself.

“Is that an 8 or a 3?” another asked.

“An 8, an 8,” Bottle Nose barked, “why is good help so hard to find?”

“It’d be a lot easier if we knew where to find it,” one of them said back.

Bottle Nose gave him an eye that meant if he were any closer he’d be

wrapped on the shin with the man’s cane.  But he shook of the notion

and continued to hobble along until he spotted the manager’s office.

“Boys over here, come break this window,” he ordered.

Two of his nearby goons jumped at the chance to break something.  The

first took a swing and punched it but only hurt his hand.  The second

picked up a metal pipe from the nearby stack and took a swing.  Crash,

glass fell to the floor in little bits.  The man grinned at what he

had just done.  The man who had punched it and failed cradled his hand

and looked to Bottle Nose.

“Well, what are you waiting for, climb in there.”

Both men began to climb inside, the first slipped on some papers and

fell.  The second climbed onto a desk, belly against wood he reached

out for something and fell to the ground.  A third goon who had come

to help laughed at them both.  This time the man was close enough for

Bottle Nose to wrap with his cane and the man cried out in pain

causing him to fall silent.

“What are you waiting for?  Get in there and help them.”

The third goon climbed inside and for a moment he stood there in

triumph until something hard and silent hit him in the head and

dropped him like a ton of bricks.  The first two thought for a moment

that he had slipped and they broke into laughter until they were both

hit by the same weapon.  Bottle Nose watched his men fall and he

perked up because he knew this was his worst danger.  The Sparrow

swung down and nailed him in the back with both feet sending him

flying into one of the crates.  He hit with a thud that caused the

wood to creak from impact but not break.  Bottle Nose swung out with

his cane blindly half expecting to connect with someone but didn’t.

He looked around, swung again in frustration.

“Boys, are you still there?”

“Still here boss,” the last two henchmen who had entered with him said

in unison.

“Well, help me out, let’s get out of this place,” he grunted before

running for the gate where they had entered.  The two henchmen

followed behind him looking this way and that to try and see someone.

Bottle Nose made it to the van but found the sliding door was closed

so he looked in through the passenger window to see the driver

unconscious.  He heard two more thuds and he knew that his two goons

had been knocked out so he pulled the handle of his cane out revealing

a three inch blade.  Now in two pieces he readied himself for combat

ready to swing with one half and stab with the other.  He caught a

glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye but it was too late,

those same feet that had kicked him in the back had made contact with

his chest and sent him flying back into the passenger door.  He hit so

hard it knocked the wind out of him and he fell to his butt gasping

for air.

This is it, this is how it ends, he thought to himself.  The Champion

has caught me before and he always took me to prison so it won’t be so

bad at least there he can make some new plan, learn about some new

scheme.  Tears of pain filled his eyes as he caught his breath and he

was about to surrender when he heard two boots land in front of him,

two lightweight boots.  He looked up to see the Sparrow there in front

of him and he looked around for more movement.  This wasn’t like the

Champion.  The Champion mostly operated from the shadows.  He saw the

amused smirk on the young man’s face and he laughed a little to

himself.

“Is it just you wonder boy?”

“Just me,” Sparrow replied.

“Daddy let you stay out this late?  No curfew for baby bird?”

“Look here Bottle Nose, I just took out six of your men and you’re on

your fat ass winded and defeated so I’d say I’m more than enough to

handle the likes of you.”

“Hmm, maybe so boy, maybe so,” Bottle Nose replied.

“Are you going to give up?”

“Yes, yes, just turn me over to the police.”

“Drop the blade and I will.”

Bottle Nose looked down to his knife that was still in his hand.  He

set it on the ground beside him then slid it away, then he looked up

to Sparrow who had barely moved but instead stood there with his arms

crossed.  He made an imposing figure in his little costume, he

thought, imposing but not dangerous.  No, he was just standing there

waiting.  He took note of the young man’s stature, his squared

shoulders, his narrow waist, muscled thighs, and the way his feet were

flat on the ground.  He had won, or at least thought he had won.

Maybe there was a way out of this yet.

He shifted and groaned to try and get up and for a moment he thought

he saw Sparrow move but he was being cautious.  Bottle Nose turned

back and forth until he could get his hands out and one knee under

himself, then he pushed up onto it and onto the second part of his

cane which gave a little on him and scraped across the asphalt a

little before sticking into it.  Finally he got his weight

distribution right and was able to get up to both feet though still

bent over on that little bit of cane.  It wasn’t enough to support

him, at least that’s what he wanted the hero to think, and he reached

out for the van and leaned onto it.  He half stood and gasped for

breath.

“And the Champ isn’t in the shadows?” he said between puffs.

“Not tonight, so that means if you fuck around with me I’ll smash you

good, then I’ll take you downtown.”

“Downtown?  You mean you haven’t called the cops?”

“Not yet,” Sparrow replied.

“Well,” Bottle Nose grunted, “that’ll make it easier.”

He reached his free hand for his pocket and Sparrow was on him in an

instant, grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled his arm up, looked into

the man’s hand only to see a pocket watch.  Bottle Nose opened it.

“What’s that for?”

“To distract you,” he answered.

And Sparrow saw it too late, Bottle Nose pressed a button on the other

part of his cane and gas shot out, gas that he aimed right into the

young hero’s face.  Sulfur and something else went so deep into his

nostrils he could taste it and feel it in his throat.  His eyes

watered and he looked to Bottle Nose’s face, a wicked grin with one

tooth missing, coal black eyes stared back at him.  Then there was

darkness.

Brat in the Frat Ch 09 - Letting Go

I got everything ready for him: plastic lining for the bed, diapers,
rope, a blindfold, speculum, lubricant, butt plug, anal douche,
leather wrist and ankle cuffs, bananas, and suppositories.  I think it
was the most turned on a I had ever been while shopping, collecting all these different things that were innocuous unto themselves but collected in my room felt kind of incriminating so of course I hid them in the back of my closet.

We had initially planned it for the following week in my dorm room,
provided of course my roommate was out.  Kevin had taken to going home on the weekends, something about a girl he knew from high school and that they had started dating.  Part of me worried it was all the time I was spending with Brad, that he had turned out to be homophobic after all, or maybe he just wanted to give us our space and it was easier to go home.  His mother still did all of his laundry and Sunday night or Monday morning he’d always return with some kind of home cooked leftovers.  Maybe his mother was pressuring him to come back, I don’t know.  It didn’t matter because space and time to ourselves wase exactly what we needed, especially for what we were planning.

In some way it felt like we were planning a heist or something.  There was this kind of mischievous sense to it.  I’d subtly ask my roommate what his plans were, relay the information to Brad who said he had trouble sleeping all week because he was so excited.  It was a big disappointment when I found out on Thursday my roommate was staying for the weekend.  Brad was heartbroken and so was I a little bit.  We fooled around here and there a little bit like normal.  I really got into the idea of being with him, teasing him, getting him hard andl eaking, then denying his orgasm for as long as I could until he was begging for it.  The best I’d let him do is fuck my lubricated hands with his hard dick.

Classes and work were a chore.  There were moments we’d forget about it, watch a movie, cuddle in bed, but it was always there, this
expectation, this adventure.  So by the time two weeks later my
roommate said he was going to be gone for the weekend it felt like an early Christmas gift.  As soon as he was out the door I called Brad and told him to come over.  He finished work and got there about an hour later, after I had set up everything.  He knocked at my door.  I knew it was him, so I opened it wearing just my briefs.  He broke into a smile when he saw me and I pulled him inside by the front of his shirt and into a kiss as I closed the door behind him.  He was hard and ready so we set about doing it.  He showered and used the anal douche as I double checked everything and killed time reading over the instructions on my phone.

Minutes later, flat on his back in the standard bondage X.  Naked, his hard dick against his belly.  I put the restraints on his wrists and
on his ankles.  He was there for me and I was there for him.  He was completely at my mercy and I felt this guilt and fear that I might do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing, expect too much.  I started to sweat, that’s how nervous I was, and I kept rubbing my fingers against the palm of my hand as I bit my lips just watching him lie there.  He was willing to give himself over to me.  I kissed him briefly on his lips.

Then I lifted his knees up to his chest, used the rope to tie them to
the bed frame.  He relaxed into the feeling as I looked down to his
hairy balls, his dick, then along the path to his hole as it puckered
with his heartbeat.  I warmed the speculum with my hands, lubricated it and his hole.  I inserted it slowly and he gasped at the feeling.

I waited for him to relax and when he said he was ready I slowly
opened him.  It was an amazing feeling to have him there like that, my dick was leaking in my underwear.  I could feel it slipping around with each movement I made.

Fully aware of what I was about to do I mashed the bananas and
carefully inserted them a little bit at a time into his hole.  He
giggled and squirmed a little at the feeling but urged me to keep
going until he was fully loaded, then I closed the speculum and
removed it.  I kissed him again on the lips before inserting the
suppositories.  He grunted at the feeling and I told him the butt plug
was next.  He took a deep breath and asked me to insert it into him so I lubricated it and slid into him slowly.  He took it to the base more easily that he usually took anything before so I figured his anus had to be relaxed.  I took the diaper and set it under him.
Putting the oil and powder on his buttocks and over his crotch had
become a familiar routine but it still felt special as I did it.  I closed the diaper and kissed him one more time before getting up and releasing the ropes holding his knees.  He lowered his legs and moaned at the feeling of the plug in his butt.

“Are you ready for this?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said through dry lips.

I reused the rope, tied it to the cuffs on his wrists and his ankles
so that he couldn’t get out of bed very easily, not without my help.
He was powerless there on my bed and I saw him wince and bite at his lip as he said he felt it inside him.  He pulled at the restraints
just to feel them.

“I can feel it,” he said, “it’s doing it’s job.”

I sat next to him, put a comforting hand on his tummy.  He groaned and whined, pulled at his restraints again.  There he was, my boyfriend, tied down and unable to help himself just as he wanted to be.  I could see he had begun to sweat.

“Would you play with my dick?” he begged.

“Really?”

“Yes, I want to, you know, piss myself, but I can’t with my dick hard.”

I slipped my hand into his diaper and felt the ejaculate from his
erect cock, slid my fingers down and gripped the base.  I stroked him slowly, tickled his balls.  He whimpered in pain and pleasure so I kept at it until he bucked against my hand.  I smiled to him as I felt
his dick search out any kind of sensation, just enough to get him to
an orgasm and he smiled back knowing I was teasing him.  It didn’t
take long for him to reach it and I felt his warm ejaculate cover my
hand and the inside of his diaper.

But the orgasm was a double edged sword because he said now he could feel the pain in his intestines and the feeling of the plug in his hole more.  I moved close to him, rubbed at my still erect dick in my briefs.  And the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes turned into over an hour as I sat there edging myself as he lay beside me.

“Maybe we should try something else,” I said.

“No, I can feel it.  It hurts really bad.  I mean I really, really
have to go but it’s like my will has become so focused that it shut
down that part of my body.  It’s like it’s stuck.  It’s like someone
turned the spigot and nothing works.”

There was one last thing to help him get over that fear of truly
letting go.  I pulled out the blindfold and put it over his eyes and
lay beside him, my head in his arm pit I put my left hand on his chest and slowly began to pet him.

Finally it happened, a little fart that turned into more.  He let out
a sigh of relief and I looked to the front of his diaper that began to
swell.  I smiled at the reality of it.  Here he was a jock boy, my
boyfriend, my submissive, my dare I say it slave, and he was finally
so relaxed that he lost all control.  I looked to his face where I saw
the biggest grin.  He knew he had done it.  He knew he had lost
control.  I got to my knees beside him, leaned down and gave him a
kiss before sitting back and looking over his body one more time.  He was mine, all mine, I thought, and I am his, all his.