Manthurin in Distress - 2. Chapter 2 - very first time

This story was designed as gay erotica I couldn't read anywhere else. It focuses on the relationship of two gay lovers, their bondage activities and their taste for various fetishes. It does contain some activities of a sexual nature between males. If this is against the laws where you live to read such stuff or if it may hurt your feelings in any manner, please do not read any further.

Thanks to Sterling for his great editing work.

2.Very first time

Évariste had waited for the proper moment, once having gotten hold of the items needed for his try-out. On a Tuesday evening in their room, after a short embrace, they turned off the lights and went to bed quite early. Two or three hours later, a flashlight was switched on, its light subdued by the sheets. It was Mathurin, who slept in the upper half of their bunk bed. He thought he was the only one awake and he got the precious volume out from its hiding place. He started browsing casually, flipping the pages with his left hand, his right one moving down ...

He was getting close to his goal when a black satin-gloved hand covered his mouth, and another one pressed his neck. A voice whispered into his ear:

“So you thought I was sleeping? You imagined you could engage in your devious practices alone? Well, think again! But if you like bonds and strictness, you’re definitely going to get it…”

Surprised to be caught red-handed, Mathurin agreed, as much as the situation allowed. Évariste then whispered his next order:

“Get down!”

He was docilely obeyed, Mathurin not even protesting against the hands that maintained their pressure. The feelings caused by the grip of palms and fingers on his lips, his cheeks and his neck created desires going back as long as he could remember. The sweet firmness of the hand gag made him literally melt, and he grunted with satisfaction, causing, in return, a much-appreciated stimulation of the hand that was sealing his lips.

In the almost complete darkness of the room, lit only by the flashlight, Évariste led his friend to one of the bedposts, which he put him against, the satin-covered hand still preventing any possible calls for help.

“I’m going to remove my hand, and you’re not going to scream. But you’re going to open it up so I may stuff this in!”

He held in his hand a piece of white material which he then shoved inside his victim’s open mouth.

“Good. Now you will keep quiet while I grab what I need to take care of you.”

Then, pointing at the boy’s mouth with his forefinger, he said:

“By the way, these are the underpants I wore yesterday, don’t chew on them too much, I want to wear them again.”

Standing against the bedpost, naked and silenced, Mathurin was waiting for what would come next. A match was struck, and Évariste used it to light up several candles that were on the desk. The briefs-eater then saw in the glimmering light how his friend was dressed.

The satin gloves went up to the elbows, and they matched perfectly the shorts made out of the same material. They wrapped his butt daintily, enhancing his wonderful curves. Seeing this body he had lusted for so many times swathed in glistening material did not help the motionless viewer. Évariste joked about it:

“Attention!”

He came back towards his victim with a roll of wide tape in his hand.

“Move your wrists to the post…”

Once he was obeyed, he taped them on with several turns of the roll.

“That will prevent you from any inappropriate movement. Good, now I am going to gag you, as you should be gagged. I want my prisoner unable to speak and, even more importantly, unable to scream so that he calls for help in order to get free, for I want you to remain captive for quite a while…”

He continued working on Mathurin’s mouth, fitting it with a small silk handkerchief folded as a thick strip on top of the white underwear already lining his palate. He made him bite on the hanky. Évariste’s fingers then spread the fabric across his teeth, and then he pulled down on Mathurin’s lips to close them down on the silk.

Grabbing another roll of tape, smoother than the previous one and at least three inches wide, he cut off a four inches piece that he applied over the fleshy lips. He then smoothed down the tape with his thumbs to make sure it would fit snugly against the consenting and excited mouth of the poor lad who was grunting with pleasure.

He then tore off several strips, which he stretched across the silky tape-dressed lips, hence covering his lower face with a strong and intricate webbing of intertwined sticky pieces. He completed his work with a long strip that he wrapped around Mathurin’s head several times, covering the already sealed lips in order to be certain his detainee would not get rid of it.

“I need to get you dressed up a bit. You’re not going to stay naked all night!”

Évariste fetched his friend’s black bathing trunks from their closet. He kneeled down to slip them on all the way up to his butt, but he had a hard time getting him completely inside the shiny briefs for his cock pointed inflexibly upwards towards the sky like a plane taking off. He then taped his legs to the metal bedpost, at the ankles and at the knees. A last strip was applied at the top of the thighs, just below the bulge, to make his young friend perfectly immobile. Stepping back a little, Évariste admired the result: a nice young man welded to the bedpost, unable to beg or to call for help in any way…

“So you hide from me to wank? And looking at girls, you mucky pup. I’m going to have a closer look at this book, then!”

He climbed up to the bed of his unfortunate comrade, got hold of the incriminated book, and laid it right next to its owner’s head. He layed down on his belly and began whispering the words. He stopped every now and then to describe the pictures or to caress his captive’s forehead or lips. The satiny touch and the storytelling were getting the hapless chap all worked up.

Once Évariste was done with his reading, he closed the book and got down from the bed without a sound. He moved closer to his prisoner. With the tip of his tongue, he tickled his face. The satin glove came to rest on the bulge inside the trunks. He was amazed at the strength of the Lycra that was under a lot of strain.

“You’d like me to keep on fondling you, wouldn’t you? Sorry, but I think I should teach you a little lesson. You’re going to remain snugly restrained and meditate on this literature you hide from me.”

Mathurin grunted under the thick tape, hoping to make his jailer feel sorry for him for he was not that willing to spend the night secured to the bedpost with underwear in his mouth.

“So, little rogue, what is it that you want?”

“Fmmmdrmmmmph!”

“If only I could understand what you’re asking, maybe I could give it to you. But you don’t make any sense!”

“MMMMMPHMMMBLLMM!”

“Calm down! You’re getting all excited, and it won’t make it any easier… Speak more clearly!”

Mathurin understood it was a waste of time and that Évariste was really going to leave him there all night long repenting for his ‘fault.’

“Tst! Tst! You’re not going to get out that easily. I still have to dress you up for the night…”

The little clicking of the tongue and the cryptic remark caused a last burst of protest.

“Mmmmphf… MMMmmhhh!!!!!!! Mbllmmmm…”

But Évariste's sniggering was his only verbal response. His gestures were about to explain what his words meant. Taking a huge black silk square from under his pillow, he folded it lengthwise several times, and wrapped it around his friend’s naked thighs, stretching the glittering material tightly so as not to have a single wrinkle show and to enhance the prisoner’s long muscles.

A piece of tape was used to hold the fabric in place, from just above the knees all the way to the top of his thighs. The same type of scarf was then folded to get to the wanted width and was used to cover his shins in as tight a fashion, which made them shine in an even more ravishing way in Évariste's eye. A final scarf of the same size, but of a dark green color, was applied from his shoulders to his waist. Still very snug fitting, it was taped all along the bunk bed’s post where the end overlapped the wrapping. Thus packed in silk, Mathurin expected a caress that would free him from his desire, but it did not seem to be part of his dreadful friend’s intentions…

The latter actually blew the candles out and got into bed, his detainee within his reach. The poor boy heard his friend's action and he was frustrated not to be able to do the same. Being available for his companion, the most lustful thoughts assaulted his mind. Long hours went by before he dozed off.