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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Billy and the Goon - 8. Chapter 8

Billy was reading when there was a knock – three sharp raps, and his dick got hard, remembering the UPS guy. Out the window, a tall man in a dark suit faced away, and as Billy opened the door, the ski mask came down.

“Strip.”

The goon didn’t close the door or let Billy leave the entryway. If a neighbor walked or drove by and happened to glance in, he’d see all of Billy.

The goon wore a sharp suit and slick tie, but his words were the same one syllables.

“Floor.”

And Billy dropped.

“Fifty.”

And Billy did fifty push-ups, still in front of the open door, his dick smacking each time against the floor.

“Fifty.”

And Billy knocked off a second set.

“Fifty” was his reward, and he began to slow. He didn’t want to hear another “Fifty.” His dick was getting soft.

“Over.”

Billy flipped on his back, wondering if the door would ever close. The goon seemed unconcerned. He bound Billy’s ankles with a short black cord that he pulled from his jacket pocket, and Billy’s wrists got the same – but his hands were tied behind his head.

“Crunch.”

Billy hated crunches. He liked his pecs, and his abs were okay but they were no six-pack. When he strained at twenty, with the goon’s shoe anchoring his ankles, the man said, “Stop,” and blindfolded him with his handkerchief.

Billy finally heard the front door close, then heard the goon walk away. But he came back with the nipple clips – the green ones – Billy didn’t have to see the color to know how much they hurt. He never should have kept them around.

He howled when they went on, only partly because he was learning how to please the goon. He just got socks shoved in his mouth. When the goon tugged Billy’s dick, some of the pain went away. But as soon as he quit, the pain raced back.

Billy twisted on the floor, and the goon tugged again, almost letting Billy release. Then he let Billy twist some more, his shoe pressing into Billy’s abs. Billy spat out his socks and screamed. The goon yanked free the clamps, twisted his nipples, flipped Billy’s legs over his chest and stuck one, then two, then three fingers into him. He jerked Billy off, and while the boy was still gasping, retrieved his cords and handkerchief and was out the door. Leaving it wide open.

copyright 2020 Richard Eisbrouch
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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