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Authors: Austin Foxxe

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BOOK: Manhandled
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Then I was led—still by the hair—over to the coffee table.

“Get down. All fours. And I want your head under the table.”

I did as I was told—and physically made to do. Then he was on the other side of the table in front of me, crouching by one
of my hands, which I was using to hold myself up. He took my wrist, placed it against the table leg, and whipped a leather
string out from under the sofa bed. He wound it around my wrist.

“I’m not really comfortable with this,” I croaked as I landed on my elbow, a bit of panic setting in. I reached with my free
hand to untie the cord.

He grabbed me under the chin and placed a shockingly passionate kiss there, and when he pulled away, I almost detected in
his threatening eyes that familiar, friendly handyman’s gleam that I knew so well. Then he grabbed my free hand and pulled
it to the other table leg. I couldn’t fight him if I tried… and I did try, slightly, for the fun of it.

“Don’t worry. I need you around. You pay me some big bucks. You’ll leave here in one piece and able to walk. Sitting might
be a problem, though.” He raised the corner of his lip again.

“What are you going to do to me? I don’t do stuff like this.” I realized there was still a bit of fear in the pit of my stomach,
but it was an exhilarating concern that seemed to speed up my heartbeat and pump the blood to my dick in double time. I was
throbbing painfully down there, and felt my own puddle of precum becoming a small reservoir.

Then he was coming at me with a blindfold. I tried to duck my head out of the way, but I was no match for him.

“No! I don’t like this!” I stammered as my chest pounded and the world went black. “Let me go.”

“Shhhhh,” he said, and then there was a kiss again, more unexpected because I couldn’t see it coming.

“Take it off or I’ll scream,” I said, thinking that I sounded so “faggy,” and also that it might have been a bad thing to
say, because now he might gag me as well.

“No one’s gonna hear you. The music downstairs is too loud,” he said, his taunting tone not even attempting to put me at ease.
“Besides, you should save your voice for all the begging and pleading you’re gonna need to do.”

“Come on, man, just let me go.” I tried to sound calm. “We can have a good time. I wanna see you ’cause you’re so delicious
to look at.”

“I think you’ve seen enough of me. You think I didn’t notice all the times you watched my every move when I was putting up
shelves or moving furniture around for you? You acting like you’re the supervisor, like you’re the boss of me.”

“No…I never meant it that way—,” I began, but then there was a loud crack as something came down on the right cheek of my
raised ass.

“Ow! Fuck! What are you doing?” I cried.

I was answered with an equally stinging whack on my left cheek.

“Did I say you could talk?” he growled.

“I just—,” I began, and then caught on quick and let out only a wince when contact was made again on an already hot piece
of flesh.

“That’s right. It’s time for some payback. We need to teach you a little lesson. You wanna play the little tease?”

There was a tugging at the waist of my jeans, a bit of a struggle, and then a clean tearing sound. I felt the tightness of
my jeans give, and suddenly my left leg was completely exposed. More tugging and tearing, and my right leg was free. Then
with one yank, the material that had hidden my jewels was gone. I didn’t want to contemplate what sharp object he had used
to rip the tough denim material to shreds that way.

I was well aware of how much I was blushing. I had gone commando due to the bad influence of my friends… and now I was paying
with embarrassment. I felt cool air creep over my cock and balls as they dangled between my legs, felt it seep into the heated
crack of my ass as my back arched and my hole peeked out for a look. I heard a “whoosh” of air come from my captor’s mouth,
and then his knees kicked my feet farther apart as he dropped down between them.

His hands began kneading the meaty mounds at the top of my ass. Soon, he was putting a firm pressure on them, grinding into
the flesh with his knuckles. I wheezed as my ass began wiggling of its own accord…“squirming” might be a better way to describe
its behavior. It was humiliating to be at his whim—and so enjoying it. My body was relinquishing control to him.

“Uuuuhhhhh!” I gasped as his fingertips brushed lightly down my ass crack, drawing two straight lines on either side of my
slit. The tickling of the hairs and sensitive flesh surrounding it caused it to sink inward. I so wanted him to make another
pass.

“Beautiful fuckin’ hole,” he grunted, but his fingers were now dancing over my scrotum, not pausing or hesitating, moving
right on to my dangling balls and then slipping down the shaft of my heavy, hanging cock. One finger found the head, circled
it, and captured the precum that was streaming from it. He slobbered the juice all over my shaft and slowly stroked it.

I tensed, afraid I was going to shoot my wad prematurely. I was so on the verge I couldn’t stand it.

But he seemed to catch on. His hand left my cock and returned to my balls. He laced his fingers into the forest of hair covering
them, and tugged. There were a thousand little intense stabs as each follicle was challenged at its root. They held on strong
and resisted the strain, carrying my balls back with them. Then they were released and my balls swung like a pendulum between
my legs as his fingers nipped at the hair on my perineum and back up my ass valley, which had been so recently treated with
delicacy. My slit seemed as appreciative of the rough play as it had been of the tenderness.

Then everything stopped.

I waited. I became incredibly aware of my own body … totally naked, completely exposed. Scrunched under this coffee table,
the edge of which was resting on my lower back. My ass sticking way up in the air, with no form of protection. Waiting for
who knew what. Waiting. It seemed like an eternity. How much time had passed? Ten minutes? Twenty? Forty? An hour? Had he
forgotten about me? Fallen asleep? Gone back downstairs? No, I would’ve heard him leave. Was he just standing there looking
at my ass, balls, and cock, all completely accessible for him to objectify? Why did I just wait and not say anything? I was
almost ready to call to him to ask what was going on.

That’s when a large object jammed against my ass slot. Although my asshole was thrilled at the touch, I feared what it might
be—it felt rather large. And dry. I prayed he wasn’t going to stick some obscene inanimate object up inside me without any
sort of lube.

The object ran its way up and down my crack, and then found my balls. They were pushed gently from side to side. Then they
came to rest on something. It felt like he had put a book under them. Or a plate. He was about to have my balls on a platter.
The adrenaline seemed to be swimming inside them. They were swollen with anticipation. But within a second, they felt like
one of those balls that’s tied by a rubber band to a small wooden paddle: they were being lightly bounced along this flat
surface. I was extremely concerned for their well-being. Any harder of a tap, and they’d be screaming in agony. Right now,
they were just being harassed enough to be curious as to their fate.

There was an ever-so-soft pat on my ass cheek. Then my other ass cheek. Then both at once. Then the pattern was repeated.
And once more, only with a little more pressure. And again. More pressure. And then steadily, in a distinct rhythm, like a
metronome keeping time on a piano. With each contact, there was more strength put behind the swing, so slight an increase
that it would have been unrealistic to suddenly yell “Ow!” So I took it…and liked it. Heat rushed to the domes of my ass,
and I could feel them turning red.

Steady and continuous: thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack. The
sound bounced off the walls.

My buns couldn’t take the assault. Too much stimulation. Overload. Some of the excitement had to be rechanneled. My left leg
began shaking uncontrollably as the intensity grew. The entire coffee table was vibrating along with it. My ass was on fire;
my throat was letting out a long, continuous “Uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Suddenly, nothing. Silence. I hitchily inhaled some air. My head was spinning. The darkness behind my lids was filled with
colored spots of light.

THWACK!!!

The room echoed at the sound, precum poured from my piss hole, my ass must have gotten far redder, and I did scream…

… and then I heard it. A quiet, short giggle, almost boyish. He was enjoying this, enjoying making me melt … enjoying bringing
me a sick sort of joy—making me give in to something I had so long denied.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

The friction was like lava between the surface of the paddle and my ass. My bark was more controlled this time. Now, the pounding
was more evenly spaced and less frequent, but HARD. At the tops of my cheeks. Near the bottom. Dead center. Left cheek. Right
cheek. My entire bottom was scorched. Behind the blackness of my blindfold, I envisioned the paddle gripped firmly in his
huge hands, swatting my ass with the strength of his bulging arms, perhaps a bit of sweat dripping down his stony features
as he inflicted the punishment. All the times I had smiled so coyly at him, egging him on, testing to see if he would want
me if he could have me. I deserved this. I was a cock tease.

“I deserve it!” I yapped, appalled at my admission. “Teach me a lesson!”

“That’s right, my little bitch whore. This’ll keep you in line.”

That was the last thing he said. He administered my punishment until I was sure my butt was about to begin bruising. I wondered
what it looked like right now. I was guaranteed to have nasty welts tomorrow. I couldn’t believe I was allowing myself to
be treated this way…as if I had a choice in the matter. OK. I could’ve stopped it sooner. But I didn’t know it was going to
come to this… really.

The paddling stopped, at last. I needed relief. It burned. Burned so bad. It was beyond me how someone could enjoy making
another person feel such pain…and how he could do it so well.

I became restless. I unconsciously tugged at my bonds. I needed to squelch the fire on my ass. Then I heard the sound of a
refrigerator door opening behind me. What was he doing?

My nerves jumped, my balls shrank, my nipples sharpened into points, and a shiver ran through every fiber of my body at the
freezing-cold temperature of whatever touched my ass next. The contact was soft, but the shock to my system was unbearable.
This subzero object was run smoothly over my flaming bottom, and I could almost hear the steam sizzling off the surface as
ice met fire. There was a confusing combination of relief and discomfort from the cold, which caused a burning of its own
due to its temperature. My cheeks were quickly going numb. Then my balls… They were hard as stone as the icy object covered
every inch of them.

And then he did it. He brought the object between my cheeks. He used one hand to part my cheeks and the cold traveled the
outer rim of my fuck chute. My asshole became a funnel, sucking away from the arctic object. I squealed.

“That’s right. This hot hole is begging for it. Look at that baby pucker. Beautiful hungry fucking hole.”

I got an idea of what was about to happen to me, but it wasn’t going to be as soon as I expected. Over the table, he grabbed
my hair and pulled my head back.

“Suck on this,” he commanded, and my mouth opened to a chilly cherry-flavored phallus. I sucked greedily. Popsicle. “That’s
right. Make that baby all nice and wet for me.”

The pop was pulled from my mouth, leaving a coating of sweet spittle on my lips, and danced across my ass and balls once more.
Then it made my fuck hole pulse again. He was toying with me. I needed to feel it so bad.

Finally, he pushed forward. My asshole fought to fend off the icicle that invaded it. The sensation assaulting the nerve endings
in my fuck hole sent chills through my body.

“Aaahhhhh!!!” was all I could manage.

Then it was in me, opening me up, numbing my tunnel while simultaneously making it come alive. It didn’t waste any time. It
punctured my sphincter and worked its way savagely up my works. Yet, at the same time, I felt my intruder shrinking inside
me as my hole melted it rapidly.

“That’s right, eat it all up,” the handyman coaxed. One big arm encircled my entire ass, fingers wedged between my cheeks
to keep them apart, while the other hand rapidly drilled away at me. “We got a whole box here for this hungry pink hole.”

I wondered how many Popsicles came in a box as the nearly diminished ice dildo was removed and another full-sizer was jammed
up my ass. My thermal fuck cavern immediately went to work on it. I was groaning, crying out, and shaking all over now as
my body became one giant erogenous zone. By the fourth chilly treat, I began to settle in and enjoy the ride. Receiving each
new Popsicle was like experiencing the sensation for the first time. My inner walls were stunned with each gnawing invasion.

As Popsicle number five was being consumed, I realized I wasn’t even there anymore. It was just my handy-man and his pretty
pink pucker, as he was now calling it. His fuckin’ hungry pretty pink pucker. In my temporary blindness, I was completely
removed from my body, shut off from the world. Willing to give him time alone with my ass. In between Popsicles, he’d smother
the cheeks in kisses, lick and suck sticky sweet cherry juice off my balls and butt, dig his face into the crack and lap the
red goo from hole and hair.

By Popsicle number six, handyman’s face practically got stuck in between the cheeks as he drowned in cherry juice, which created
a temporary glue between his sharp whiskers and pretty pink pucker’s surrounding coat of fur.

Finally, he hit the bottom of the box. Eight Popsicles had been consumed. The hole was a dripping mess, yet totally unsatisfied.
Ass flesh was still hot. Cock and balls swollen. Rectum wanting to expel the buildup like nobody’s business. The pucker was
sure it was not going to be able to hold back the torrent of liquid that wanted to gush forth, but the handyman stopped it
up quick. And his rod was bigger than any Popsicle the pucker had yet encountered.

BOOK: Manhandled
4.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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