Evil Dudes

By Randy MacAnus

Copyright 2018 All rights reserved by the author.

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This is a story of rape and sexual enslavement of a straight college student. by gay men. If this sort of thing is not legal for you to read, or offends you, don’t read it. All characters are 18 or over.

“That’s him.”

I looked through the binoculars, and saw a slender, blue-eyed blond twink, in running shorts and sneakers, with his t-shirt off and stuffed in the back of his shorts. He had excellent definition, but no bulk to speak of. He wore his hair mid-length and kind of shaggy. It hung down appealingly over one eye.

I knew from Frank’s research that he was 5 feet 11 inches and 156 pounds. No visible body fat. According to girls who had dated him, his dick was slightly above average. Not that it would matter. He wouldn’t be having much use for it.

A Freshman here at the college, but had not joined a Fraternity. He lived off campus. No roommate. He had okay grades, but was undistinguished and unnoticed, academically.

He had a fake id, so he could go out for a beer, but never got drunk. He almost never had more than one. He didn’t cause trouble in bars, and didn’t socialize much. He’d just sit and nurse his beer for a bit, hit on a girl or two sometimes, and go back to his apartment.

He had played soccer in high school, but had not gone out for any sports in college. He got around on his bicycle. Or at least he had been, since the start of spring. What he had done in the winter, we didn’t know or care.

He had plenty of dates with girls at the start of the year, and had not had any trouble getting laid. But the girls had figured out what an asshole he was, and word had spread. He hadn’t had a date in months, which was probably part of the reason why he had slipped a roofie to a girl and raped her.

The court ruled insufficient evidence, so he got off scot-free. He may not have gone to prison, but the incident cost him the three male friends he’d had. Girls wouldn’t go near him.

He was perfect for us.

The four of us were looking to make some serious cash by producing gay porn. But not just any gay porn. Kinky, nasty and even violent gay porn. Like you see from Russia and Eastern Europe.

We figured we found ourselves a niche. Most of the porn that was supposed to be rapey or non consensual was lame, because it was clear the victim didn’t actually mind. None of these people are actors, of course. So we figured, if we really gang raped someone, (ideally, a straight boy, who would be less likely to get into it,) it would be a lot more intense and, well… real.

The problem, of course, was selling the resulting porno without getting arrested, when the guy filed charges. We felt we had a solution to that. If we were wrong, we just wouldn’t release a video.

We decided our victim should be a straight boy, who was cute and had a vulnerable look. Definitely, not someone with any sort of martial arts or self-defense skills. We didn’t want to fuck up someone’s life who was a good person, so our target had to be deserving (in our judgment) of what we were going to do to him.

This guy was maybe a couple of inches taller than our initial victim profile called for, but we were all big guys, so we figured it would probably look like a fairer match-up. Hah!!

There were four of us. The shortest was six foot three. The tallest six foot five. We all worked out. None of us were less than 210 pounds or more than 5% body fat. We all trained in martial arts. We all had big fat dicks. And we all liked power sex.

“Do we know his plans for Spring Break?” I asked Frank.

“Yeah. He hasn’t got any. Since the rape incident, even his parents have disowned him. They still pay for his college, but that’s it. He doesn’t have the money to travel, so he’s staying here, in his little apartment.”

“Then let us gently suggest he spend his spring break with us.”

“Or longer, if we decide to keep him,” said Frank.

General laughter all around.

We had been careful. We knew he was completely unaware of us. Yet we knew everything we needed to know about him, including his schedule and habits.

The next afternoon was the last day of class before Spring Break. He always rode home on his bicycle, through a substantial forest that lay between the campus and the town where he had found his cheap apartment.

It was a well-traveled route during the day. But once classes and the afternoon rush home were done, (around 4:00) the paths through the forest were virtually deserted.

So, Frank deflated, then punctured our victim’s rear tire, while he was in his last class. His rear wheel didn’t have quick release, so it would take him more time to remove, patch, inflate and remount than the front tire would.

Sure enough, the little shit spent nearly an hour fixing his tire, bitching and swearing the whole time. By the time he was done, it was almost 5:00. When we “encountered” him in the forest, we would have him all to ourselves.

The path he always took crossed a dirt road near the end of the forest. At that point he was almost home, tired and sweaty. And still angry about the tire, so he wasn’t really paying any attention.

We had our black van parked in the woods, off the road. No one had passed by in nearly 40 minutes. We had our Go Pros set up in the area where the action would take place. We didn’t want to use larger cameras, as we didn’t want him knowing we were shooting video.

We grabbed him off his bike at a sharp curve in the bike path, where he had to slow down. We were all dressed in black shorts and black steel-toed work boots, plus black ski masks. No shirts. I have to say, we looked very hot, with our muscular definition on full display.

And it matched what he wore when he rode. Except his shorts were red, and he wore sneakers. His shirt was in his backpack, and his lock and chain were being worn diagonally across his chest.

I grabbed his backpack as he passed me and pulled him completely off his bike. As he hit the ground, I gave him a quick hard kick in the balls. He doubled up as Frank grabbed the backpack and pulled it off of him. Mike pulled his arms behind him and zip tied each wrist above the opposite elbow.

He was still in terrible pain, completely confused and disoriented, and was already nearly helpless. He twisted, squirmed, and kicked out with his legs, to no effect. It did look great on the cameras, though! Frank and Mark each grabbed a foot, spread his legs and locked a spreader bar between his knees.

He finally looked up at us for the first time. When he saw us, his pretty blue eyes went wide with fear. He hadn’t put two and two together yet, but he knew he was in deep shit.

“Don’t hurt me, dudes!”

The four of us grinned. Not much of the grins showed through the ski masks, but enough to cause the little bastard to whimper. Mike pulled his hunting knife out of it’s sheath and let the kid see it. The bitch opened his mouth wide to scream, which is when Mark shoved the spider gag into his mouth, and locked it behind his head.

With his legs spread, his arms bound behind his back, three of us holding him to the ground (and all six cameras running) there wasn’t a thing he could do, as Mark knelt next to him, and ran the knife slowly down his smooth, bare chest.

When the kid tried to scream through the spider gag, Frank just shoved a ball gag into the hole, and buckled that behind the kid’s head as well. After that he struggled and moaned, but was completely at our mercy–as if we had any!

Mike slowly, ran the hunting knife over our victim’s junk, which caused him to get very tense. His whole body went rigid, which showed off his flexing muscles nicely. The cameras would love that!

Mike then, slipped the blade under the left leg of his shorts and sliced up through the elastic waist band. He then did the same on the right side. He had sliced through the boy’s jock, as well as his shorts, so when he slowly pulled off the shorts, the jock came along for the ride.

Our victim was now buck naked, except for his sneakers and socks. Frank calmly took care of them. We stepped away from our captive, to let the cameras take in the full view. Without realizing it, he was cooperating nicely, struggling to get loose, flexing those hot, sweat-soaked muscles, and looking in panic from one of us to the next, with those wide and very terrified blue eyes.

At this point, he was probably hoping he would ONLY be raped. But we were making a movie. We needed a more interesting story than that!

His dick was nicely shrunk down, so the time was right. Mark knelt next to him and began the installation of the surgical stainless steel cock cage we had ordered just for him. The lock was integral, and that type of lock had never been successfully picked. It locked around his ball sac. Only two ways to get it off. With the key, or by cutting his balls off.

The kid couldn’t see what Mark was doing, but he could feel it. The look on his face was a combination of confusion and fear, so I don’t think he understood exactly what was happening to him. He’d find out soon enough.

Frank threw a rope over a tree branch, rolled the boy over, and attached one end to the kid’s chain and lock, which was still hung over one shoulder. Pulling the chain off the shoulder and over his head, caused it to settle, centered on his bound arms. The heavy chain was a great look for the cameras!

We lifted the hot little teen to his feet, as he continued to struggle and yell into his gags. Frank pulled the other end of the rope until our victim’s arms were pulled up and he was forced to bend over at the waist. Frank then tied the rope around another tree.

The boy was now on his feet, naked, bent over at the waist, with his legs held wide apart by the spreader bar at his knees. His ass and mouth were at the perfect height for a good old-fashioned spit roasting!

Our 18 year old rapist was about to find out what it’s like to be on the receiving end. We didn’t want to do permanent damage, as we had plans for this kid. So Mark started working his ass with lubed fingers, while Mike, pulled off the ball gag, and began training the boy’s helpless throat with a dildo.

At first, he gagged and tried to retch. So Mike whispered instructions into his ear. The boy responded by yelling “fuck you” as loud as he could. Of course, it came out “uck ooo” because of the spider gag. We got a good laugh out of that.

Mike looked up and made eye contact with Mark, who nodded. In the next moment the our victim lost his anal and oral cherry. At the same time. For the cameras.

It was a lovely sight to see, as he struggled and gagged and twisted, flexing his muscles for the cameras, and for the two of us who were watching, and anticipating our turns.

As the pretty teen was making no effort to properly suck Mike’s cock, Mike just pounded away, fucking the kid’s throat with a vengeance. After a solid minute of gagging on Mike’s cock, with little chance to breathe, our little rapist finally started following the instructions Mike had whispered in his ear.

He began to swallow around the 7 inch member when it was down his throat, and also started to tongue the crap out of the head, whenever it was in his mouth. So Mike left his cock in the boy’s mouth for a few seconds on each stroke, before shoving it back down his throat. Finally, the pretty blonde was able to catch his breath a little. He was clearly getting woozy, but he didn’t pass out.

Meanwhile, Mark had buried his 8 inch man meat in that hot little butt. The helpless naked teen was in a state of disoriented terror and pain. Just the way we wanted him! Frank and I took advantage of this to adjust the cameras. With his head buried in Mike’s crotch, and his focus on his own pain, humiliation and terror, I decided to use one of the cameras to take some close-ups.

Boy, were they hot! The massive dick sawing in and out of that perfect ass, and shots of his pretty face, clearly in a state of agony and desperation, being raped by Mark’s 7 inches.

I could not remember seeing a gay rape porno, with such a beautiful victim. I used the camera to slowly scan his entire body, taking in the slender frame, and the tight defined muscles, rippling in agony!

And he was far too preoccupied to notice the camera. I hate when a victim looks directly at the camera in a rape porno. It spoils the illusion.

Finally, Mike and Mark shot their loads all over the kid’s face and butt, and stepped aside for Frank and I. By now the kid was whimpering constantly, so, for the benefit of the cameras, I smacked him across the face, and told him to shut up. And he did, for almost a minute.

I was pretty darn sure now, that our plan of terror and intimidation would break the kid, and allow us to sell the video, without him calling us out for rape. But even if we failed to do that, we were going to be making a good buck off his ass. And mouth.

Now that our naked prey had been nicely opened up, and had gotten the hang of deep throating, Frank and I felt free to really pound him. And while we were fucking him raw, Mark was shooting closeup video, and Mike was using a flail on the more sensitive parts of his body.

His screams, though muffled due to the cock down his throat, were a delight to hear. And unlike the phony repetitive noises made in most rape pornos, our victim’s screams were almost musical in their variation, and very real. This made me happy.

Finally, Frank and I shot our loads, and rubbed our cum all over his face and body. I slapped his face with my cock a few times, then wiped it off on his lips and nose. That left a nice sheen to his lips and a big glob of cum dangling from his nose.

The exhausted teen was whimpering, “Ooo ‘astards” through the spider gag.

In my deepest voice I responded, “You had better be very careful what you say to us. Pissing us off is not in your best interest.”

He looked up at me in surprise, and saw the fire in my eyes. And he began to tremble.

“You think we’re done with you? Not even close.”

Our hot teen twink let out a small moan, as Frank released the rope that help him up. He collapsed to the ground in a heap, utterly spent.

Mark detached the rope from the chain, then took the boy’s keys out of his backpack and undid the padlock. He wrapped the chain tight around the kid’s neck, and locked it into place with the padlock, leaving the rest of the chain hanging, as a leash. Boy, did that look hot!

Mike removed the spreader bar from between his legs. I gathered up his shoes, socks and ruined shorts and jock and stuffed them in his backpack. I kept the backpack.

Our victim was clearly expecting his arms to be released. I made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. I also told him we were keeping his backpack and bike.
His look of total panic was delightful.

“How am I going to get home?!”

“You walk, of course. Stark naked. With your hands bound behind your back. And covered in cum. I would suggest you avoid other men during your walk. Your condition might give them ideas.”

“How am I going to get into my place?!”

I said, “We have your keys and ID, which has your address on it. We’ll stop by your place, unlock the door, and leave it ajar for you. It’s more than you deserve.”

“But it’s nearly two miles to my place! And with my hands tied, how will I be able to dress?”

“We don’t care. And don’t think we’re done with you. We know where you live. We have keys to your place. And you are now our bitch.”

“But I’m straight!”

“Good. We want you to hate this.”

The boy sat down with a thud, and began to sob. During the conversation, Mike and Mark had put the backpack and bike in the van.

“You might want to wait until it’s dark to walk home,” I said.

The bound, naked teen just nodded. I didn’t think he was completely broken, but he was certainly becoming very compliant. Progress!

We climbed into the van and left him there. We left three of the cameras running and took the others with us. The were controllable in pan, tilt and zoom via the internet, so we could record the start of his little adventure remotely.

Frank hopped out of the van with a camera, about a 1/4 mile away from the woods. He would track the teen’s naked journey to his apartment. The rest of us drove to his apartment, and unlocked the door.

We then set up some HD spy cameras in the kid’s apartment. We chose locations that gave good coverage, but would not be easily spotted. Finally, we unlocked the back door, so we would have immediate access from the front or the back.

His apartment was in the basement of an old house that had been converted to apartments for students. He had one large room with a kitchen area, and a small half bathroom, with shower but no tub. We didn’t bother with a camera there. He wouldn’t be getting that far.

We returned to the van to watch the show on the video monitor we had attached to my laptop. From here we used my cell phone data connection to control the cameras we left at the rape site, and to monitor the camera that Frank had.

It was nearly sunset, so we figured our prey would be on the move soon. I double checked what had been recorded since our departure. The boy had remained on the ground. In the fetal position.

Suddenly, one of the cameras automatically moved in the direction of noise it heard. Someone was coming up the path! The camera spotted to guys who appeared to be late teens, riding their bikes up the path.

I brought up the camera that continued to watch our victim. He heard the noise as well. As soon as he heard actual voices, he crawled quickly into the underbrush.

As the cyclists passed, he looked at them longingly. I think he was trying to decide if he should ask for help. Instead, he ducked down, and they passed without seeing him.

Interesting. He would rather risk walking home naked, with his arms bound behind his back, than risk the humiliation of presenting himself in his condition, to those guys. That was good information to have.

Finally, he began his walk home. He walked along his usual bike path, until he came to the edge of the forest. Then he waited for the sun to finish setting, before crossing the road. This is where Frank picked him up with his camera.

Frank had put on a pair of black warm-up pants and a black jacket, so his body wouldn’t stand out under the street lights. Despite our teen rapist’s vigilance, he never noticed Frank.

Frank and his camera followed the boy up the residential streets, documenting his journey. It was fun to watch him dive into the nearest shrubbery, whenever he spotted a car coming, or someone walking up the sidewalk.

His closest call came, from a man who was walking his dog. The man never saw him, but the dog sure did! It was a big Rottweiler, and it growled menacingly, as it went into the bushes after the naked teen.

The dog got his nose into the boy’s crotch, before the man finally got enough control over his pet, to pull him back out of the bushes. If that Rottweiler had gotten loose, I think the kid would have been dog raped!

With his pale skin shining in the moonlight, our prey was easy for Frank to track and shoot video. The only time he lost him, was when the boy cut through several back yards, because there were so many people out walking up ahead of him. And several had dogs!

Frank knew where the kid was going, of course, so he just intercepted him a couple of blocks closer to his place. Frank’s best shot came as the kid was coming toward him. You could clearly see the heavy chain that was padlocked around his neck, swinging back and forth in front of him.

Then the chain caught on a branch, and pulled him off his feet, knocking the wind out of him. With his hands tied behind his back, it took him several minutes to work the chain loose. After that, he didn’t jog. He also managed to flip the chain back over his shoulder, so it hung behind him.

Finally, our naked little stud arrived at his apartment. Frank’s last shot showed the relief on his face, when he saw his door ajar, and the lights on inside. Still, he poked his head in cautiously. We had a camera pointed right at the door, because we knew this would be a fantastic reaction shot!

While the boy was in school, we had robbed his place of absolutely everything he owned. When he entered, there was no TV. No furniture. Nothing in the kitchen area of his little studio. And no clothes. Not a piece of cloth anywhere. We even took the area rug. The look on his face!

As we knew his hands would be bound behind his back, we thoughtfully left the closet door wide open, so he could see it was empty.
He looked all around in a panic. No dresser, no laundry hamper. He went into the kitchen. All the drawers and cabinets were open. Nothing. I’m sure he had been planning on using something sharp to cut his bonds. But the entire apartment was completely devoid of stuff.

We had his wallet with his debit card and ID. We had absolutely everything he had owned, except for the chain and padlock around his neck. And we had the key for that.

He was afraid to ask those cyclists for help, earlier. Would he go to his landlord, now? We didn’t think so. He’d shown a reluctance for public humiliation already, and he knew his landlord was gay.

In fact, in our long distance observations, it was clear his landlord checked him out whenever he saw the kid, and it was equally clear the kid knew it, and didn’t like it.

Presenting himself at his landlords door naked, bound and covered in cum, was a whole lot more than I thought this boy could handle. I was right. After going through his place in a panic for several minutes, our cute little rapist, simply crumpled to the floor and sobbed.

We gave him a few minutes to suffer. Then the four of us entered his place. Mike and Mark through the front door, Frank and me through the back door. He was so busy sobbing and being defeated, that he didn’t notice us come in.

I softly said, “Is there a problem, bitch?”

He softly screamed, then cringed, as he looked up at us with tear-filled eyes, and a trembling lower lip.

“P-please let me loose and give me my clothes back,” he whispered.

I suspected it had been a long time since the little shit had used the word, “please.” I noted that he didn’t ask for his furniture, or any of the rest of his stuff, just his clothes. Useful information.

“They aren’t yours anymore. They belong to us now. And so do you. The sooner you accept the fact we own your ass, the easier your transition to sex slave will be.”

“B-but I’m not gay!”

“Yeah, who gives a fuck? This isn’t about what YOU like. It’s about what we WANT. And we take what we want. Now, you can get up and follow us to your new existence, or you can lay here, bound and naked, in a puddle of your own tears, and wait for whatever else comes through that door. Either way, we own you. And if you make us wait to take complete possession of you, your punishment will be beyond anything you can imagine.”

I really didn’t care which choice he made. If he refused to follow us, we would just rape him again right there, and promise to return, and use him whenever we wanted. If he came with us, it would be more convenient, but less enjoyable.

He chose to stay. We stuck the spider gag back in his mouth, and spit roasted him for the next hour. When we were done we left the spider gag in his mouth, and put duct tape over his pretty blue eyes. We also attached the spreader bar to his knees, again.

We were kind enough to escort him to his little bathroom first, so he could empty his bowels and bladder. Then we padlocked the end of his chain around a structural post in his basement apartment. We didn’t want anyone stealing him from us, after all.

“You will be receiving a steady stream of visitors. None of them will be interested in helping you. Eventually, you will have to void yourself and will be sitting in your own mess, waiting for your next abuser. When you are too disgusting for anyone to use, we will return, and give you another chance to come with us.”

He did his best to scream ‘No wait…’ through the spider gag. I removed the gag, and let him speak.

“If I go with you, what will you do to me?”

“This isn’t a negotiation, bitch. But, I will tell you this: We won’t kill you. We won’t permanently mark that pretty body of yours. We won’t leave you naked in public places, to be discovered by others, including the police. We won’t tell people you know, that you have become a sex slave to other men. Whether we let you continue college, and a semblance of a normal life, will depend on how cooperative you are, and what mood we are in.”

Then Mark said, “If you piss us off, we will sell you to an Arab slave dealer we know. And yes, there is human trafficking going on all the time. Mostly women, but there’s always a market for a pretty boy. You will be shipped to the Middle East. And Arabs being Arabs, at some point they will cut your balls off.”

Frank continued, “If you don’t go with us, and eventually get yourself rescued, you will probably still lose your balls. Either that, or your dick will never get hard again. That cock cage your wearing will only come off with the key, or by cutting your balls off.”

Mike told him, “If you go with us, we will whore you out. We will have you starring in gay porn videos. We will fuck you ourselves. We will cause you pain and humiliation.”

Then I said, “The good news is, at some point we will become bored with you, and move on to a new slave. If you have been a very good boy, and you have made us enough money, we wouldn’t feel any need to risk selling you. It IS illegal, after all. We will give you your life back. But when and if that happens, is entirely up to us.”

Being blindfolded with duct tape, the boy had no idea that all of this was being recorded on video. If he agreed to belong to us, we would have that fact on video. It would have no legal standing, and in fact would be proof of extortion by us. So we certainly wouldn’t be making it public.

But the prey had a decided fear of public humiliation. If he thought we might show it to his parents, it could be a deterrent. Besides, it would be hot for the four of us to watch his moment of surrender from time to time.

“You said you might let me continue school? How would that work? How would you be able to trust me? And what would I have to do to make that happen?”

I had to give the kid credit. Despite being bound, chained to a post, naked and blindfolded, and with no one to turn to, he managed to ask the right questions.

Mark said, “We will control you remotely. In addition to a GPS tracker, you will be wearing a locking butt plug. You don’t even want to think about the kind of damage, removing it without the key would cause. And the butt plug we have for you, will give us the ability to give you electric shocks to your prostate, remotely. We will let you experience that. I doubt that you will want to experience it more than once.”

Mike said, “And don’t forget your cock cage. If you are a good boy, we will remove it sometimes, and let you get your rocks off. If you give us trouble, the only hope you’ll have of achieving any kind of orgasm, will be through prostate stimulation. You know… Getting fucked In the ass.”

I said, “You will sign a contract with us to make gay porn. If you make us enough money as a porn star and a whore, we might even give you a little money, when we send you on your way. Or, if we decide you haven’t been bad enough to sell, but also not good enough to pay, we might keep all your stuff, and just throw you out into the street naked.”

Our teen twink let out a slight moan, and shuddered. We all grinned. He couldn’t see that, of course.

“Will I live here?”

“No, you will live in a special room in our basement. You won’t be able to enter or leave it, unless we want you to. I’m guessing you don’t care much about Feng Shui, or interior design, but we have given a lot of thought to the decor. Your room has a dungeon motif. It also has an area for you to do your school work, but no internet access. If you need to get to a certain site for school, you will need to ask us. Your email will be reviewed by us. You will not have a phone.”

I was curious to see if he would accept those restrictions. Especially, lack of a phone.

“Well, no one talks to me anymore, anyway…”

“What if people I know see the porn?”

“Tell them you need the money, and you’re going gay for pay. It’s pretty common, now. If they say they want to fuck you, tell them to talk to your agent. That would be us.”

“Do I get my clothes back?”

“Fuck, no! You will wear what we give you, when we let you wear anything at all. For school you will get a shirt, pants and sneakers. Nothing else. And all of it will be made with Velcro seams, for quick and easy removal. Most of the rest of the time you will be naked and collared. Even when we whore you out, you will travel in the back of the van, naked.”

Another soft moan.

“Okay. I’ll be your sex slave. There isn’t anything about it I like, but my life has been for shit, anyway, since I raped that girl. Maybe, when you’re done with me, I can make a fresh start…”

Mark unlocked the chain from the post, and we led our new property, bound, naked and blindfolded, out the back door to our waiting van.

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