By Kevin Moore

Bryan tied me to the bed in double quick time, and then retrieved a Pentax Spotmatic camera from the wardrobe – I later discovered that the man was a professional photographer, and that bum-boys and pornography were his two main passions in life.

As he fiddled with the camera, a naked black man entered the room.

‘Nice of you to finally turn up, Lloyd,’ said Bryan. ‘Kevin could have been stretched out here for hours, awaiting a right royal rogering from the black mamba.’

‘Dimpled arse,’ said Lloyd. ‘And ultra skinny as well. That’s cool.’

I strained to look over my shoulder, to see what the man looked like. He was bending over me, toying with my arse-crack, so all I could see was his powerful thighs and awesome cock.

‘He was hooked by Jay,’ said Bryan. ‘And turned out to be a real easy catch, apparently.’

‘I wouldn’t say that,’ I said, defensively. ‘I just saw Jerome’s cock and knew what I wanted.’

‘So we have another fan,’ said Lloyd to Bryan. ‘These white boys just can’t get enough black cock, they’re addicted to it.’

Lloyd’s hands caressed my lower back, arse-cheeks and trembling thighs. The man certainly knew how to press all the right buttons: my cock was fully erect within seconds.

A minute or two later I was humping the mattress as Bryan began taking photographs and Lloyd began lubing my arsehole.

Before mounting me, Lloyd kept me on tenterhooks with his rigid fingers. They slipped in and out of my arsehole with ease, as they lubed up my inner sanctum.

‘I’m gonna sweat you, boy,’ said the burly black man. ‘I’m gonna nail you to the spot with my coal-black cock. And then I’m gonna turn you into an addict, boy, an addict for black cock.’

The man was way out of date – I had been addicted to black cock the moment I saw Jerome’s lusty stem. Having two such lengths in my life was simply the icing on the cake.

Initially, Lloyd took no notice of Bryan’s instruction to pose in a more camera-friendly position – the stud was out to nail me to the spot, so nothing was going to jeopardize that goal. This forced Bryan to get down on his knees and obtain his close-ups in the best way he could.

‘Get your arse up, Lloyd,’ snapped Bryan. ‘And keep it up, for fuck sake.’

‘Calm down, Snappy,’ said Lloyd. ‘Can’t you see we’re in love.’

‘Don’t talk bollocks,’ growled Bryan. ‘My knees can’t take much more of this.’

The frenzy lasted a good fifteen minutes, with Bryan getting more and more uptight as it intensified.

I was loving every minute of it – being stretched out on the bed, with a rampant stud pounding away at my arse, was the best sex ever. There was no way I was going to piss off Bryan, like Lloyd was doing. I was going to stick with the man who was going to keep the cocks coming thick and fast.

* * *

I appeared in one of Bryan’s abduction videos a few weeks later. These videos were commissioned by a City broker, who, according to Andy, was a leading member of a group of lecherous old toffs.

The video was made on location in the wilds of Kent, during a week-long camping trip. All the major sex scenes were shot inside an abandoned boathouse, which stood on the right bank of the river Medway.

The opening scene of the video depicted Andy and I, dressed in white cycling outfits, setting up camp in a field, which was no more than fifty yards away from a small wood. A long-shot of us putting up our tent, shot from just inside the wood, gave the impression that we were being spied upon by someone concealed in the undergrowth.

While Andy volunteered to go down to the river to fill up our canteens, I headed into the wood to collect some dry kindling for a fire. It was then that John and Roy jumped me.

I struggled for several minutes before being subdued – with a cloth soaked in imaginary chloroform – and carried off to the boathouse by the two men, who were wearing black balaclavas, navy blue boiler suits and black boots.

The abandoned boathouse was an ideal location for a noisy and rough sex-romp; and rough was certainly the word I would use to describe the sex – John and Roy didn’t pull any punches when it came to stripping me naked and dumping me onto a sturdy wooden table.

My wrists and ankles were tied to the table, so that I was lying face up and spread-eagled before the cameras – Bryan had two video cameras pointing in my direction on that day: one operated by him, the other operated by Eric.

For almost three hours my two captors, now stark-bollock-naked, teased and tormented me; slapped me; and fucked me in a variety of different positions. I looked and felt like a real abductee by the time Bryan said, ‘That’s it for the day. We can do the close-ups tomorrow. Now get cleaned up.’

With the close-ups out of the way, Bryan and Eric rallied the troupe for the next video tape, which neatly followed on from the first.

John and Roy jumped Andy as he frantically searched the wood for his friend. They pounced on him as he made his way back to camp. However, in Andy’s case, he was stripped naked in the wood and carried off to the boathouse, over John’s shoulder, via a convoluted route through the dense undergrowth.

The boiler suits the two men wore protected them from many a barbed twig and prickly leaf; however, their victim’s naked back and sides were exposed, on purpose, to all the path’s natural hazards. Low, overhanging branches attacked Andy’s body, as he complained bitterly about the route John was taking.

‘Don’t blame me, sunshine,’ snapped John. ‘The bloke who’s paying for this epic wants to see you suffer. He did want to see you being whipped, but Bryan and Eric came up with this idea instead. Now me, I would tie you to a tree and give you two dozen lashes.’

‘You’re such an arse,’ Andy snapped backs. ‘Captain Bligh would be so proud of you.’

‘Yeah, keep on with the insults, sunshine. Remember, you’re gonna be all mine when we get back to the boathouse.’

‘Stop talking!’ barked Bryan. ‘We need to go again. That tree is messing with the light, so back up and walk toward the camera again.’

John laughed as he backed up to let half-a-dozen branches caress Andy’s bare arse.

* * *

John really made Andy sweat that afternoon, especially when it came to his turn to power-fuck the young thruster. I spent most of the session in the background, tangled up in a fisherman’s net that hung from the rafters by rope. Outside the boathouse, a summer storm was brewing, so the portable generator needed to be brought inside. Two more disruptions quickly followed, which meant that the session overran by a good hour or so.

Andy looked like death warmed up by the time the arc-lamps were eventually switched off. He was none too pleased with Bryan, who had signed him up for this kind of video – being fucked by well-hung black men was much more to his liking. In contrast, I enjoyed being slapped around and forced to do John and Roy’s bidding. It felt good to be tied up and used and abused by these dominant men.

I also got a buzz out of watching Andy being put through his paces. And the next day, I was fortunate enough to witness another submissive being restrained and trained.

Apparently, Aiden was a man who liked to be bossed about and treated like a dog. He arrived at the boathouse in the back of an old van – during the journey from London the twenty-something had been stripped naked and given a dog collar to wear. In addition to the collar, a tail-like dildo had been inserted into his arsehole.

Andy and I couldn’t believe our eyes when Aiden scampered into the boathouse on all-fours: I think his enthusiastic entrance was more to do with the cane marks on his arse-cheeks than his need to prove how dog-like he could be.

The man with the cane was as dominant as he was ugly. He had a crooked, leering smirk on his face and a devilish glint in his eye. He was tall and thin, and had very little hair on his head.

I later discovered that he had served in the French Foreign Legion, and that Warren Mann wasn’t his real name: apparently he had deserted from the Green Howards in the early 1960s, after a Company Sergeant Major had been hospitalized.

‘So which one of these lads is going to help me chastise my pet?’ said Warren. ‘They both look like they can handle a cane.’

‘Kevin is the more compliant, so Andy is your man,’ said Bryan, beckoning Andy forward with a wave of his hand. ‘Kevin can be the mouth-watering carrot to Andy’s stick.’

‘Good idea,’ said Warren. ‘Rover will certainly beg and roll over for that kind of tasty treat.’

Rover (Aiden) barked his approval as he gazed longingly at my flaccid cock.

Andy was quite keen on becoming Rover’s master for the day. He liked the idea of making the man-dog do tricks in front of the camera; he also liked being encouraged by Warren, and other voices off camera, to cane Aiden’s arse-cheeks for any transgression, no matter how trivial.

I stood behind the camera and watched the man-dog roll over, beg and fetch. I watched him lap water from a bowl and wag his rubber tail. Warren had trained his pet well.

‘C’mon, Kevin,’ said Warren. ‘Get down on your hands and knees and give Rover a five-minute break. You’ve seen what it takes to be man’s best friend; and I’ll take over from Andy, so there’ll be more verbal and less caning.’

Bryan shook his head furtively, but said nothing.

‘You can be my new puppy,’ Warren continued. ‘So get down on your hands and knees and come to heel.’

An hour after Bryan had put away his camera, I was still hard at it. Warren was a relentless taskmaster. My knees were red raw – I must have circled the boathouse floor a hundred times – and my cock and arse-cheeks were just as battered and bruised – Rover had mounted me during my obedience training and fucked my brains out. He had then left his mark (love bites) all over my body, including my arse, cock and nipples.

I spent all of the next day with Eric, recovering in the small caravan – Bryan had rented three caravans that week, which were tucked away in a corner of a caravan site near Teston. I never saw the inside of the boathouse again that trip. Bryan knew that I was keen to do more, but he didn’t want to push his luck and return home with a total wreck on his hands.

Aiden and Andy continued to perform in front of the cameras for another two days – Aiden was hunted down in the woods, hung upside down from a tree and caned by Warren. Andy was kidnapped again and gang-banged by John, Roy and Warren.

– – –

Copyright (c) 2011-2013 Andy Caulden