The Stranger: Chapter 2

It had been a long and frustrating week for James by the time the next Friday came around. So many strange thoughts were running through his mind.

He kept hearing the stranger's words...

“You can do so much better than this.... time to take you to the next level”...

He hadn't a clue what the last bit meant, but he knew the first part was true enough. Suddenly he loathed that club and everyone in it. And he hated himself for ever being part of it. Still, he had to return to find the stranger.

Back in the club now he saw the man, arms hanging limp at his sides and standing tall and erect. James stared into the stranger's face. The man was older, maybe by twenty years. He seemed quietly confident and smart, sort of handsome with a shock of greying hair.

He thought of going to the bar to get a drink but the usual barboy was nowhere to be seen. In his place was a guy somewhere in his mid 50s. Odd.

James bit the bullet and went up to the stranger.

“Why did you leave last week?”

He knew immediately it was a stupid thing to ask, like what some jealous boyfriend would say. The stranger ignored the question.

“Come on. I think you're ready for what's to come” the stranger calmly responded. He stared at the boy, cold and deep.

James felt intimidated. His confidence was shot. Still, he tried to keep up a defiant appearance. “I ain’t going with you. You could be a fuckin' psychopath”.

The stranger shrugged and turned to leave. “Fine”.

Terrified as he was, it was clear the only way to resolve the dilemma was to go with the man. The boy’s erection was out of control now, and excitement had peaked better than any orgasm.

“Look… if I come with you…”

He turned and spoke sharply. “Boy, I don’t give a damn whether you do or you don’t. Stay here with the freaks if that’s your life”.

If any comment could be calculated to maximum effect, that was the one. The boy followed the stranger up the creaking stairs and out into the street.

“Now’s your chance” the stranger smiled. “Run now if you want to. Otherwise, you’re mine.”

Running was not on the cards. James was going to see this saga out to the bitter end.

They walked for only a minute before coming to a run-down corner shop, closed down for some years by the looks of things. Inside were piles of crates and a couple of dozen garbage bags filled with god-knows-what.

The stranger turned to James, reached into his pocket and pulled out a blindfold.

“This stays on until I say otherwise” the stranger firmly commanded. “Take it off at any point and you'll pay dearly”.

Then came the blackness. And the fear. They continued down a flight of creaking stairs, James feeling his way with uncertainty and the terror growing every second.

His breath was quicker now, and his heart raced like a fucked clock. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he could smell cum and dampness and sweat. It was like the darkroom all over again, except deathly quiet.

“You'll strip” commanded the stranger. “When I return you will be standing to attention”.

He heard the stairs being noisily ascended and then the stranger's footsteps moving around on the floor above.

The boy did as he was told, first gently removing his t-shirt, then his jeans and shoes. Curiosity was driving him wild, but he dared not take off the blindfold. Finally naked and shaking, he stood, legs slightly apart, and waited.

It seemed like an eternity but finally the stranger returned, accompanied by the jangle of metal. He felt the stranger standing in front of him. He could feel the heat of the man's body.

“On your knees” came the stern voice.

The boy complied and instantly was aware that his cock was going insane. It sprang up and pressed like a hot iron rod against the boy's belly. He could feel its wetness and the drip of pre-cum slowly descending to his pubes.

On his knees now on the cold gritty concrete James could feel the blood rush in his ears. His pulse was loud and he was aware of every slight rustle and whisper in the room. Soon the sound of metal scraping against metal filled his head and before long he felt the rough hands of the stranger pulling his arms back and tying them together.

“Stand” the stranger barked.

The boy got uneasily to his feet, wavering slightly and feeling giddy. Strong fingers gripped his big low-hanging balls and pulled him roughly across the room. There he was pushed back against a cold surface, he thought maybe a wall or a pillar. His arms were momentarily unbound, and then tied again even tighter behind him. James couldn't move.

“Know how to click your fingers?”asked the stranger.

“Yeah... I think so..”. The boy clicked his fingers.

“Good. If it ever gets too much click them, I'll hear”. And with that the boy's mouth was forced open and something soft and wet was stuffed into the waiting orifice. Fluid dripped down the boys throat and chin, warm and salty. He guessed in an instant what it was and after a seconds hesitation, sucked on the steaming mass.

One of the stranger's strong hands gripped the boy's right ankle and attached something cold and metallic to it. Then, forcing his legs wide apart, did the same to the other. Standing there spreadeagled, hands bound, gagged and blindfolded, James had never been more helpless or vulnerable. It's also true to say he'd never felt more excited or alive.

The stranger again ascended the old stairs and James heard the thud of the upstairs door as it closed. He was alone.

The silence and the blackness closed in. The boy could hear everything, even the scuttling of a mouse. Somewhere in the distance something dripped onto the floor, counting out the minutes and the hours. Otherwise, nothingness.

He stayed like this for what seemed an eternity, focussing in on the buzz of a small insect, the slow creaking of wood, the distant traffic.

Then came a blinding pain across his thighs and a hand savagely gripped his throat. The boy screamed in terror through the gag, nearly retching with the shock. Somehow the stranger had come back into the room in total silence. Or... had he ever left?

By the time the racing pulse had subsided from the boy's ears the room had descended again into silence. “God, not again” he thought, panicking at the prospect of a repetition. But this time he could hear the steady breathing of the stranger, inches away.

The boy was on red alert, waiting for the next shock, but it never came. Instead the stranger undid the manacles on the boy's hands and feet, then slowly removed the gag.

“Get dressed” he ordered, dumping the boy's clothes in a random pile at his feet.

A minute later James was standing at the top of the stairs near the exit door. The blindfold was removed. Everything around him seemed so surreal now, and the stranger was looking down at him.

“You did well” he said, a half smile suddenly appearing on his face. The boy didn't know how to respond.

“Go home. Think about it.”

“Is that... is that it?” stammered the boy, being unable to think of anything else to say.

“Fuck no. This is just the intro. Come back sharp at 9PM next Saturday if you're ready and we start properly”.

The stranger opened the door for the lad and he said thank you and left. The sun was coming up. He must have been in there for hours.

Walking back home through the silent streets the boy's mind raced through everything that had happened. The stranger had stripped him of everything – his dignity, his choices, his identity, and yet James felt so complete.

Later, now laying in the safety of his bed, James resolved to return to the old shop the next week. The thought of it excited him beyond belief and he unloaded himself all over the t-shirt he'd just taken off.

Putting the soaked garment into his mouth he sucked on the warm cum and fell into a deep sleep, dreaming vividly of so many things delightful and horrible that awaited him.

To be continued