The Stranger: Chapter 3

It had been a conflicting feelings for James ever since he left the stranger’s dungeon so early the previous Sunday morning. One minute he would fantasise about the experience, recalling the steamy sensation of powerlessness and anguish. The next he would dismiss the whole incident as a humiliating mistake.

Still, every night he would have those dreams that drew him further and further toward a return to the strange place. The thrill of leather upon skin, harsh instruction, rough invisible hands, silence that seemed to scream – these magnified in his mind and peaked his imagination. Jesus, if that was just an “introduction” what would the real experience be like?

So when Saturday cam along and the rendevouz was an hour off, he made the decision to face the challenge. Neither his erection nor his heart rate had subsided all day, so it seemed a sensible choice. “I’ll set some really hard limits” he promised himself.

The ramshackle old shop was smaller than he remembered, but it was still just as threatening. He knocked on the old wooden door and waited. And waited. Ten minutes went by with no response.

“Thank fuck for that” thought James, walking away. Now he could go home, have a wank and catch up on television. He walked away.

Within a minute he was back at the shop. “Maybe he was downstairs and didn’t hear me”. Another ten minutes went by.

The door opened, and the stranger stood there smiling at the boy. He scoffed at James’s protest at the delay. “I told you to report at 9PM. I didn’t say I’d open the door at 9PM”. It was clear where this night was going.

James was ordered to strip, was blindfolded, and again led down the stairs to the cellar. The stranger stopped him when they reached the bottom, then went ahead to the other side of the room.

“Find your way over here” he instructed. “But watch out for the spider that’s hanging in the web”.

James was terrified of spiders. The last time he discovered one in his room he hadn’t gone back for two days. Now helpless and blindfolded he was expected to face one in the darkness. Well, it wasn’t going to happen and that was that. He told the stranger that he would not move an inch.

“Use your fucking logic” barked the stranger.

James thought about it. A single spider hanging from a web took up a very small amount of space. Odds were if he chose a path away from the walls he would avoid it. And what would the odds be of hitting it anyway?

Or was the stranger just trying to fool him? Christ, it was impossible to say. James was shaking.

Logic… logic… He thought about the word. Logic. In an instant he was on his belly, shuffling along the floor amongst the dust and the rubble. If a spider was hanging from the web, it wouldn’t be on the floor. Now that was logic!

His head hit hard against the stranger’s leg and strong hands grabbed his arms and pulled the boy to his feet.

“Well played lad!”. The stranger unexpectedly patted him on the shoulder. He never did discover whether the spider threat was real.

Then the boy remembered that he’d failed to set hard limits for the session. Still, since the spider threat was dealt with surely any other torment would be lame by comparison. James remained silent.

He was then led across the room and lifted onto a cold surface then stretched out. He felt straps being applied to his limbs, tight and unforgiving. The warm air wafted against his precum and for the first time James felt totally and utterly vulnerable.

There was complete silence, other than the hard ticking of a clock. The ticking grew louder.

The stranger explained that he was hearing an alarm clock. The alarm would be set and when it went off he would suffer the following sensation.

There was a loud wooosh and James felt a blinding pain across his thighs, an agony of such intensity that he had never before experienced. His teeth started chattering with the sensation.

Whatever implement was being used was unimaginably fierce, and it was a single stroke. Now he was informed that he would receive three such strokes when the alarm sounded – unless he could guess the answer to a riddle.

It was a sick game.

“Listen very carefully” said the stranger, breathing close to the boy’s ear. “I’ll say this riddle twice, then you will find the answer or suffer.”

He began:

“While on my way to St Ives I met a man with seven wives. Each wife had seven sacks, Each sack had seven cats. Each cat had seven kittens. Kittens, cats, sacks, wives. How many were going to St Ives?”

As pledged, he repeated the riddle adding “and who knows when the alarm will sound”, and then there was silence. James repeated the riddle in his head several times and imagined the objects lined up.

Kittens = 7 Cats = 7

“So that’s 49. Times that by 7 for the sacks, so that’s erm, 343.”

Now, times 7 again for the wives.

Shit. James sucked at maths. 343 x 7. Christ. His head was in a panic and all he could hear was that incessant clock waiting to go off.

343 x 7. That’s, well, 2,100, plus 280 plus 21. Simple. Erm… 2,380. Plus 21 equals 2,401. Victory!

Now, it was just a case of visualising the 2,401 and he could wait peacefully for the alarm to go off.

This having been accomplished he found himself reciting the riddle.

“While on my way to St Ives I met a man with seven wives….”

Fuck!!! He’d forgotten the man! Whew. So easy to overlook.

So, adding the 1 to 2,401 he had his final answer.

The clock ticked on relentlessly, with 2,402 dancing around his brain.

An uneasy feeling started to grip the boy, undefined at first but it grew quickly. The stranger had read out what he described a riddle. A mathematical puzzle isn’t a riddle. Was he going down the wrong path?

“While on my way to St Ives I met a man with seven wives….”

He “met” the man and his wives. Surely that doesn’t mean they were going to St Ives…..

The alarm went off with a blast that nearly fried James’s brain.

The stranger switched it off and took hold of the boy’s left nipple, twisting it fiercely and running a cold object across the still burning thigh. s “Answer my riddle” he barked.

The boy panicked but dared not delay his answer.

“It was… it was just one… it was me”, he stammered.

The boy lay there in terror. He heard the loud Wooosh again, and steeled himself for the ordeal to come. But there was no pain.

“You are correct” said the stranger in a surprisingly soft tone. The lad's heartbeat, now out of control and dangerously frantic, started to subside. The stranger spoke close to his ear.

"Now for your reward".

Jesus. "Reward" is such a loaded word. The boy felt the straps loosen and was guided to a soft bouncy part of the room that he concluded had to be a mattress.

"Lay down" ordered the stranger, and James did so. He felt the mattress sink as the stranger lay next to him.

"Now eat".

James could smell what was on offer. The musty crotch scent was unmistakable and he munched gently on the hard cock that had pressed against his face. He savoured and caressed it, enjoying every second of the experience.

All those cocks he's had in that sleazy nightclub darkroom were nothing to this. He'd taken those cocks for granted.. heaven. He felt warm and safe as the hard thighs pressed against his face and tightened as the stranger's juices poured out

Without warning the man's arms were around him and a tongue was forced into the boy's mouth. They stayed this way in a deep embrace until the morning song of the birds signalled an end to the night.

"Same again next week?" whispered the man.

James thought for only a second before giving his reply.

"You bet. Nothing could keep me away!" And then with a broad smile creeping over the young face James added: "-- unless you happen to be free tonight...."