Finding myself in the passenger seat of my pick-up truck, shaved smooth as a new born behind is mind blowing. How the heck do I keep getting myself into these bizarre situations? I don't think I even recognize myself today as the same kid that moved up to the family vacation house just months ago.
Since I'm in this situation, I might as well go with it, not that there is really much of a choice at the moment. Tag's watching the road, the intensity in his face scares the living crap out of me. His constant humming sets my nerves on their very end. The windows are rolled down, wind blows briskly across my freshly shaven skin. Tingles and goose bumps cover me from head to toe.
Looking down at my shorts, the bulge pushing up from under the fabric of my jeans tells a completely different story than what my imagination presents. I can't stop coming back to the fear that my dad is going to blow a gasket when he walks in and sees me tied up, naked as the day I was born. What is he going to do, think, how the hell is he going to react. This could go as bad as it gets, there is just no way of getting past that fact. Why is it that from the waste down, my perved out parts seem not to give a damn what they may be in for?
The hum and vibration of rubber on pavement sends tingles up my butt. A little bit of an itch is developing up inside my hole. Damn it, with my hands tied up behind my back, no matter how much I wiggle and squirm, I simply can not reach that annoying itch!
"Hey, stop it will you? You're distracting me and it's hard enough to keep my mind on the road let alone figuring out how I am gonna make your dad go along with this little drama we've cooked up."
Tag must be out of his mind, what the hell does he mean, WE? This was his idea, I was simply the dumb ass that went along with his idiotic fetish role play thing. Really, I'm starting to think that I don't have the common sense of a wooden post.
The wheels of my truck hit the gravel driveway as we head toward the far end garage door. Silver comes to a bit of a skidding stop, gravel is thrown against the white aluminum door. Tag bangs the shift into gear and the quick clicking of the emergency break being applied signal that it's time to get real. I hear the buzz of the electric door opener even though I did not even see him press the button over the drivers visor.
Tag reaches out, extends his right arm across my naked torso, his lightly fur covered forearm brushes the taught muscled abs just above my belly button. His fingers fumble with the seat belt, searching blindly for the release button.
"Click."
The belt which had just held me firmly in place, retracts with a whipping sound. The metal buckle hits the plastic trim just behind the passenger door. "Click." Tags seat belt pulls back away from him just as quickly as my own had, he leans across my lap, pulls the handle, the door next to me pushes open, noise is released from my best friends mouth. It must have taken some doing to make his muscular bulk so nimble as to be able to get beyond me to simply open up the door.
It takes just seconds while I wait patiently. What the heck else could I do? My hands still tied behind me, my ankles tied together, it's not like I'm going to be able to make a clean break for it. Tag's at the open door of the pick up now, he reaches in, one arm slides behind my back, the other wraps itself under the back of my huge thighs. He leans in, takes a huge breath in, holds the gulp of air into his lungs. With all the strength he can muster, I find myself being heaved chest first over Tag's shoulder, denim clad ass pointing straight up into the air. I'm lifted up and out of the safety of the passenger side of my pick-up. We move upward and to the side, I can tell that Tag is attempting to position my weight in a way that he can balance both us.
Shocking to me, he lifts one foot up, kicks the passenger door, it swings closed. I am again shifted to a more secure position over his shoulder, he heaves me up an inch or so over his shoulder to assist this required realignment of weight transfer. I am being carried toward the open garage bay, it is dark inside, even with the unadorned windows that line the back and far side of the garage. Tag takes his time to measure his steps as we approach the few wooden stairs that lead into the kitchen entrance. The arm that had secured my back is removed, I feel my body become unstable, I use every muscle in my torso to keep from sliding off and hitting the floor.
The screen door is opened with the familiar springs stretching noise. Tag places his free arm out to prop the door open, his hand placed firmly inside the jam. Carefully he maneuvers both of us up those few stairs and into the kitchen. The door is allowed to behind us, the pneumatic hiss of the spring announces our arrival.
Tag wastes no time in heading straight to my bed room, the door is thankfully open, allowing him to simply toss me full force onto my back, the thickness of my mattress adsorbing the brunt force of my mass going with gravity pull.
"Holy shit man! You've got to go on one hell of a diet if we are ever going to do that again!"
"What the heck are you talking about, AGAIN? You've got a screw loose boy if you think I'm gonna let you drag me around like this ever again."
"You bet your ass you will, if I say you will. From now on, I'm your master and you, well you're simply my slave boy. My will is your command, got it?"
"Listen Tag, I don't know if this is really such a good,,,"
What the? The force of a pair of dirty underwear being shoved in my mouth takes me completely by surprise. The stripping of duct tape from the roll and how quickly it is wrapped around my head, covering my mouth, securing the filthy pair of shorts into my stuffed mouth shocks me.
"There, now you will get the idea. Slaves are to be seen and used, not heard, well that is unless I want you to be heard that is."
Tag's devilish laughter scares me just a little more than I had expected but it also sends electric impulses to my already aroused penis. My balls pull up, nearly out of their distended sack, I can feel them slam against the back side of my prostate. HELL YEAH! What a rush! That damned itch in my ass comes back again. A whimper escapes my throat, my eyes open wide, a tiny tear burns it's way to the corner of my eye lid. Tag looks at me, stares at me, cocks his head to one side, I know he is trying to figure out what I was attempting to communicate to him.
The tape is pulled violently from across my mouth, the bulk left sticking to my shaven skin. Burning, ripping pain screams it's way from my face to my brain. The filthy underwear are roughly yanked out of my mouth.
