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The Intruder, part one By Captain Spalding (m/m, n
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The following story contains male/male nonconsensual sex. If this
is not your cup of tea, hit n now.
THE INTRUDER, part one
By Captain Spalding
I came back early from vacation in the Bahamas to find my house
in disarray. Someone had ransacked the kitchen looking for the good
silver. Moving on to my office, I discovered that, not only had
someone gone through my files, he had also destroyed most of my computer
disks, ruining weeks of work. "Fuck," I thought. "If I ever get
my hands on the motherfucker who did this..."
I found I had spoken too soon. I heard a noise from the living
room, and for the first time I realized I might not be alone in the
house. I hunted for the gun I keep hidden in a philosophy book on
the corner of the shelf in my office. Fortunately, it was undisturbed.
I crept to the door of the room. Edging out, into the dining room,
toward the living room, I realized that I could see my intruder through
the open doorway. He had his back to me, and he must not have heard
me, as he continued to pore through my china cabinet, breaking dishes
as he went.
He did not appear to be armed, but I didn't want to take any
chances. Unfortunately, if I wanted to get to a telephone, I would
have to pass him, and if I tried to leave the house, I risked discovery.
"Freeze!" I yelled, in my best vice cop imitation. My attacker
froze, and how.
"Don't shoot!" he yelled, still facing the opposite direction.
"Put your hands over your head," I told him. Slowly, he did
so. He wasn't carrying a gun. "Turn around slowly." This he also
did.
I saw that my burglar was young, very young, no more than twenty,
it seemed, and quite handsome. He was dressed simply in a nondescript
black sweatshirt and blue jeans. He had short blonde hair and a
dark tan.
I wanted to subdue him before I contacted the authorities.
Without thinking, I said, "I want you to go through that doorway."
I was directing him to my bedroom.
"Lay down on your back." This he also complied with. When
he tried to talk, I yelled, "Shut up."
Not everyone has strong nylon rope in their bedroom, but I do.
Soon, the intruder was securely fastened, his hands bound together
and tied to the headboard, and each foot tied to a bedpost at the
corner of the bed.
"Don't go anyplace," I warned him. He really had no choice.
I thoroughly searched the rest of the house. There was no one else
to be found. And except for a few smashed antiques, I had seen the extent
of the damage. I returned to the bedroom.
It was at this point that I decided to take matters into my own hands.
"So," I said, pulling up a chair next to the burglar, "what's your
name?" He just stared at me for a moment. I slapped him.
"Eric," he said.
"So, Eric, what brings you to this neck of the woods?" I asked.
"Look, Mr., I needed the money, that's the only reason I was robbing
you..."
"Fuck you, Eric. You had no right to break into my house. On top
of that, you vandalized my property. Explain yourself."
"I wanted to make it look like it was just some chance break-in."
"It wasn't?"
"No, I've been staking your place out for a while."
"Why? Why did you do this? You don't lool like the average
criminal," I said.
"I'm not," he replied, "but I needed money fast. I've got this
friend, he can get me in on the ground floor of this new company. Real
good investment. This was the quickest way I could come up with cash."
"Burglary isn't a wise business decision for someone so young... How
old are you, Eric?"
"Twenty-one."
"Christ. Twenty-one. Well, I'm hungry. I'll see you later."
I returned in two hours to hear Eric pleading with me.
"Mr., I haven't gone to the bathroom in a long time. I really gotta take
a piss. Can you let me go? Please?"
"Not a chance," I said, "but we'll see what we can do." I had gotten
a large pair of shears. "You're gonna be spending some time here. Time to
make you comfortable." I brought the shears down close to his neck.
"Jesus, what are you doing?!?" he asked. I said nothing as I began to
cut the sweatshirt away from his body. I made a few cuts, and pulled the
remaining strips of cloth off of his torso. I was pleased to find that he
had a well-developed chest and an overall excellent physique.
I ran a hand over his pecs. I guessed that my little captive was a
surfer in his spare time...
"Hey, what are you--some kind of fag?" he asked. I didn't respond.
Instead, I took my shears to his jeans. I made a cut down each leg of the
pants, and then peeled them off of him. He was now clad only in a pair of
tight white briefs.
"You said you have to take a piss?" I repeated his statement. I took
a large glass from the side of the bed--it wouldn't do to have him stain
the bedspread--and I cut the briefs off of him.
His penis lay, shriveled and cold, in a thatch of dark blond hair. He
was uncircumcised, and his foreskin was completely covering his glans. I
held the glass under his cock and said, "Okay. Time to pee." His breathing
had quickened with fear, and he strained as a tiny stream of urine hit the
bottom of the glass. "What--" I said, "--shy?"
"I can't," he said.
"Too bad," I answered. "Maybe later... So," I said, setting the glass
aside for now and taking his shaft into my hand, "what are we gonna do today?"
I slid his foreskin back and forth over the head of his cock.
"Hey, come on, stop that," he begged.
"Stop it?" I asked, gently running my thumb over the sensitive underside
of his cock head, "I think you're enjoying it." His dick was, in fact,
beginning to grow. I tickled his balls with my other hand and slowly,
carefully massaged him to full erection. His dick was cute, to be sure, but
for a boy with a body this great, not that impressive in size.
"You're not very well hung," I commented.
"Hey, come one," he said pleadingly. "Cut it out. I didn't mean to
steal your shit. It was wrong. It was a big mistake. I'm sorry." He was
sort of starting to babble. I manipulated his skin more vigorously.
"You're sure it doesn't get any bigger?" I joked. It was, all told,
about five inches in length. I changed the pace of my masturbation again.
I could tell he was trying not to come, but I also sensed that he was getting
close.
After a few minutes, when it seemed he was about to explode, I increased
my furious pace, his entire body tensed in anticipation--and I stopped.
"Hey!" he said.
"Hey? What are you, some kind of fag?" I repeated his words. The I
took his prepuce in my hand and shucked his cock until he blew his load all
over his abdomen.
I watched his penis shrink back (even smaller) to its normal, soft state,
and thought about what else I had in store for young Eric...
**********
(to be continued)
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