| Subject: The Construction Worker |
Author:
Stan
| [ Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 13:31:49 07/21/18 Sat
One day, I was taking a long walk around my neighborhood for exercise. I passed by a group of construction workers building a large 2-story house. I slowed down my pace a little to enjoy the unexpected "scenery". It was a hot day. Most of the construction workers were wearing T-shirts, but a few of them had taken off their shirts, perhaps to acquire a nice tan, or maybe just to show off their attractive physique (for whom, I wasn't quite sure). All of them were wearing faded blue jeans with tool belts strapped around their waists. I fixated on those tool belts, originally tan-colored, but darkened over time into an erotic shade of brown by the workers' sweat. With my fertile imagination, I envisioned that these workers were now a group of rugged cowboys. In my mind, their tool belts had been transformed into gun belts, and the hammers hanging on the side of their tool belts had become six-shooters. I could have been very happy being sexually subdued by any one of those "cowboys". However, I knew that wasn't very likely to happen. Most of them were probably straight!
To avoid arousing suspicion, I continued with my walk, but I arranged to pass by the construction site every day for a few minutes of wishful thinking. One day, when I was walking past the construction site, the men were just starting their lunch break. One of the men approached me on the sidewalk. The hair that lightly covered his arms gleamed like gold in the bright sunlight. He asked me if I lived in the area since he had noticed me walking by there every day. I told him I lived just a few blocks away. He said he lived only a couple miles from there. Then, I was surprised when he asked me if I would like to come over to his place for a cold beer on the weekend. Although I was ecstatic at the prospect, I played it cool and told him that would be nice.
I assumed he had invited a bunch of guys over for beer, hopefully including some of the other construction workers. However, when I arrived at his place, I discovered that I was the only guest there! This made his motivation for inviting me over rather suspect. He told me to sit down on the couch, and then he brought me a beer. He sat down on the couch right next to me. Not being quite sure of his intentions, I felt a little uneasy having him sit so close to me. He was so attractive that I wasn't sure I could control myself. He stretched his muscular arms out to the side and rested them on the back of the couch. His right arm lay behind my head. Gradually, that arm slipped down and came to rest on my shoulders. I got an instant hard-on when I felt his wayward arm. Noticing the bulge in my pants, he looked up and smiled. I was pretty sure now that we were both on the same wave length, but I decided to let him take the initiative. He gently pulled me over his knees, face-down. Lying across his lap, I felt vulnerable like a small child. He rubbed the seat of my pants very sensually with his hand, which got me even more excited.
I was caught off guard, though, when he began to spank me with his right hand. He asked me if I liked being spanked. I told him no one had ever spanked me before, but I found it quite pleasurable coming from him. As he continued spanking me, he remarked, "I noticed that the harder I spank you, the harder you get." Then, he asked me if I would like to get a spanking with his tool belt. The mere mention of his tool belt caused me to have a sizeable erection. Noticing my body's involuntary response, he said, "I'll take that as a yes."
He suggested we go into the bedroom. His tool belt was hanging there prominently on the wall. All the tools and accessories had been removed from the belt, making it ready for immediate use as an instrument of punishment. He asked me if I would like to "check out" his tool belt before he used it on me. He must have read my mind! I slowly ran my fingers down the full length of his belt. The leather was so thick, and yet, because it was well-worn, it yielded to the gentle pressure of my fingers. That belt must have been at least 2" wide. I had never felt, let alone worn, a belt that wide before. Its impressive width reflected the masculinity of its owner. I visualized that belt tightly hugging its owner's waist while he was working up a sweat at his construction job. And I imagined his large hand grasping that wide belt for sexual gratification, inflicting punishing lashes on an intimate partner, something I was about to experience first-hand.
He told me to take off all my clothes. Then, he tied me down spread-eagle on his bed with some rope. He allayed my fears of being tied up when he explained that the rope was for my own protection: to prevent me from moving around and accidentally getting hit with the tool belt on some unintended part of my body. He removed the tool belt from the wall and doubled it over. I got quite an erection when those initial strokes began warming up my ass. But that erection soon began to wane when the strokes no longer felt so pleasurable. Instead, I began to experience a burning pain that grew ever more intense. I started crying. I told him I couldn't take any more punishment, but that heavy leather belt continued to land on my butt without mercy. I began yelling with every lash he administered. I pulled on the ropes, desperately trying to escape from his tool belt, but I was unable to free myself. Then, he punished me even more severely. As my cries of pain got louder, his erection began to grow in size. Then, he got on top of me. I felt him penetrating me. His erection grew even larger until it finally erupted in an explosion of ecstasy. After a while, he released me from the ropes and we slept together on his bed.
After I left his place, I didn't think I would ever want to go through that much pain again, but I apparently didn't know my own mind. Within a couple weeks, I found myself anxiously calling him up, wanting to get together with him again. He was wise enough to know that variety is the spice of life. So, after a couple more visits to his place, he told me there were 2 other guys in his work crew who "preferred" the company of men, and he said they also enjoy "using" their tool belts on their guests! So my Saturday evenings were booked up for quite some time. Needless to say, the quiet of those evenings was broken by the sound of heavy leather striking bare flesh, cries of pain, and futile pleas for mercy. A sore butt seemed like a small price to pay for the opportunity to be subdued by such magnificent specimens of manhood.
For the curious, this story is a complete fantasy.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
] |
|
Feedback: 