Breakdown Motel Part 2 (Gay BDSM Erotica) by Ty Marton Page A

lip, he pulled back, jerking the
handlebar into his gut and revving the rotor back up to speed. The
electricity cut out, and within a few seconds, Jeff had resumed a
steady pace that would have made his coxswain proud. The thought
nagged at him though, just as it always did. He liked getting fucked by Danny. He liked touching him, kissing him,
tasting him. He liked it even when it hurt. He even found himself
liking it when the others fucked him. All of them had gotten moans
out of him, all of them had made him cum. You will like it ,
they had always said. You will not have a choice. He hated
how right they were, hated the awful implications…
    And as he glanced down to his lap, realizing
that his cock had grown fully erect just thinking about all of it,
well, he hated that, too.
    The door, a thick slab of heavy stainless
steel with a small mesh-wire window, clanged open behind Jeff,
nearly startling him.
    “Time’s up,” Gus said loudly, speaking as if
the workout was intended as anything other than a punishing
exercise. He flicked a switch on the wall, not for the lights, but
for the dildo. Jeff obediently came to a stop, the dildo disarmed,
and sat still while Gus unlocked his ankle cuffs and then helped
him off of the dildo, up onto his feet, hunched over with his
wrists still cuffed to the handle. Carefully clipping the end of
along steel pole to Jeff’s collar, giving him almost total control
of the slave’s movement from a safe distance, Gus then removed the
wrist cuffs from the machine before quickly and deftly recuffing
them behind Jeff’s back. Grinning as he called Jeff “Officer
Bitch,” his favorite nickname for the numberless slave, he ordered
him through the door and up the stairs, pushing him along via the
pole.
    “Gotta get your sweaty ass cleaned up,” Gus
muttered, careful not to drop the toothpick that dangled from the
corner of his mouth. “Big day in store for you…” The two emerged
from the stairwell, out into the hot, dusty morning air. Usually,
workouts were immediately followed by “playtime,” Mason’s cloying
name for the time spent with Danny in room X under the watchful eye
of the camera, or sometimes with Mason sitting in the corner of the
room, quietly observing and directing the action as he saw fit. But
Gus jerked Jeff away from room X, and over towards the dungeon.
    “Got a special guest coming to play with you
today,” he said happily. “And that’s just the start …”
     
    ~*~
     
    Thirty minutes later, following a blistering
wash from Gus’ fire hose-esque high-power sprayer, along with a
series of ice cold enemas, Jeff was finally alone again, hogtied
and dangled from a hook in the center of the ceiling. His arms were
bound behind his back with thick rope, creating the harness point
that tied upward to the hook in the ceiling. His legs were folded
backwards and forcibly spread apart. The padded leather table had
been removed from the room, leaving Jeff as the sole centerpiece.
He closed his eyes and hung his head, taking advantage of these
restful moments by himself, the calm before whatever storm his
captors had planned for him.
    He heard the door open, but he didn’t lift
his head, didn’t open his eyes. Shutting the world out for just a
few extra seconds was the kind of secret defiance he had learned to
cherish. Of course, they’d reduce him to the eager, submissive slut
they wanted him to be, just as they always did. He wouldn’t fight
it. But he wouldn’t embrace it, either. Not until they forced him
to.
    “Always had you pegged as a faggot,” a deep,
familiar voice grumbled. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in weeks,
and hearing it was enough to get him to open his eyes and look
up.
    It was Sheriff Fox, standing across the room
from him, arms crossed, admiring the sight of this naked slave on
display. Jeff hadn’t seen him at the motel since the night he’d
foolishly arrived. From what he’d gathered, Fox was careful to
minimize his involvement with