Held Captive By Leather Guy

I'd never been inside The Eagle bar before, although I had always been attracted to the type of guy I saw entering and leaving there. I guess I was too intimidated by their size - I'd usually gone to bars with one primary rule in mind: Don't pick up anyone stronger than yourself. It might have been paranoia, but I always feared getting some stranger home with me and having him beat me up and rob me. Well, judging from some of the stories that make The Blade, it was sound advice. But since I'm only 5'10` and 140 lbs, it severely limited the number of men I considered making it with.

But I continued to drive past The Eagle on my way to the Lost and Found, and always I thought of going in. That Friday night I decided to not think about it any longer, and go inside. Just getting out of my car was a thrill, and I was so nervous about the neighborhood that I inadvertently left my headlights on. Inside the bar I felt a little out of place. Most of the customers seemed to know each other, and none of them seemed to be interested in me. But one huge bear of a man occasionally looked sideways at me, and I wasn't sure if he was interested, or angry at me for coming in there dressed for the L&F. I had a few drinks - a few too many it turned out - and as the night progressed I kept looking at Big Bear. He had a shock of brown hair that looked as if he hadn't bothered to comb it for several days. His beard was so thick that the only indication he had a mouth was the strip of foam left each time he raised a mug to his mouth.

His barrel chest was covered by the thinnest of white T-shirts, cut into a workman's V in front, and the dense fur covering his chest jetted forward like a weedy field. Sprouts of hair protruded out the neck of the T-shirt, and his thick arms were just as darkly covered. A Grizzly Adams gone bad, I thought. He wore a black leather vest that had definitely seen some use - he hadn't just bought this one upstairs, and well-worn levis that looked as if he'd just rebuilt his motorcycle without washing them. I was very attracted to him because of his size, his carelessness, his non-civilized bestial aura. But I decided that he wasn't interested in me, so I finished up my drink and left the bar.

As soon as I tried to start my car I realized what a mistake I'd made. The engine barely groaned with each attempt, and the lights wouldn't even glow a bit. Shit, I thought. What the fuck am I gonna do now? Call AAA? 'Yes, sir, that's right. I'm in the worst neighborhood in Washington with a dead battery, and even as we speak I'm about to get mugged. Please hurry. What do you mean one hour?'

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I leaned my head forward onto the steering wheel of my car, thinking about the advantage of just sleeping in the car and giving it a try in the morning, when someone knocked on my window. I jumped to attention and saw the black leather vest, the white T-shirt with brown hair poking through, the bulging crotch of greasy levis. Grizzly Adams had come through! I rolled down my window.

Hi, I said.

Problems? he asked.

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Yea, I left my lights on. Battery's dead now. You don't happen to have some jumper cables in your car, do you? I asked. As soon as I asked the question I felt stupid.

Don't have a car, he mumbled. Got cables at my place. Come on.

I really didn't want to go with the guy, remembering my cardinal rule. But it seemed ungrateful to say No thanks, I'd rather wait for a better offer. At least he had jumper cables at his place, so I decided it was worth the trip. I locked up my car and we walked over to his vehicle, a Harley Davidson. What else? He threw a helmet at me, and when I put it on I could smell years of grease and sweat. I climbed on the back of his bike, he kicked it to life, and we tore off like lightening. At the first stoplight he turned to me and yelled Don't hold my fuckin' shoulders, then grabbed my hands from his shoulders and roughly pulled them around his girth and planted them in his crotch. What a well endowed handle that was! But what a grumpy ass he was. I decided to hold my tongue and accept his favor, even though he made no pretense about being cheerfully charitable.

He drove us to a dark warehouse district, parked the bike and said come on. I followed him inside. There were motorcycles and cars parked there in various states of repair or assembly. Some looked terminal. The place smelled like a gas station - volatile petroleum odor mixed with sweet transmission fluid mixed with musky male bodies. Come on, he said again, then started up the stairs. That seemed to be the extent of his vocabulary. Well, I said to myself, bikers aren't known for their articulateness. It will soon be over, and you can drive home and sleep this adventure off.

He turned into a dark room, and I followed him inside. All at once I felt him grab me from behind. He lifted me clean off the floor and I tried to wriggle loose but he held me in a bear grip that soon pulled my hands up over my head. He held me suspended by my wrists, and before I could do anything to escape he had slapped handcuffs on my wrists. I was really panicked by now, and started to scream. Without saying anything to me, he dragged me across the still dark room, then linked the handcuffs to some overhead support beam. Only then did he turn on the lights. I saw that he had nearly suspended me - I had to stand on my toes to keep the cuffs from biting into my thin wrists - in a large claw- type bathtub.

Please, I began to plead. Please let me go. I'll find a cab to take me back to my car.

Shut up, he said. I saw you lookin' at me all night. You want me, dontcha?

No, I responded. I just want to get my car started and go home.

You lyin' pissant, I know you want it, he said, then spat on the floor. He wiped the brown juice off his beard with the back of his hand, then stroked it across my cheek. It was chewing tobacco, and it smelled vile.

Please let me down, I asked again. My arms are really hurting.

I'll let you down when I'm ready, he said. Now shut up. He then left the room and I heard him walk down the stairs. He rattled around in the kitchen - if you could call a refrigerator and stove in the middle of a greasy garage a kitchen - then came back upstairs. He walked into the room and I noticed that he'd removed his leather vest.

What do you want? I asked. I've got some money in my wallet. And if that's not enough, there's a MOST card there too. I'll give you the number and you can take as much as you want.

I don't want money, he said. I just want to give you everything you've been asking for all night.

Then please let me go, I asked again. I'm really hurting here.

He began taking off his T-shirt, and I saw that his belly, his shoulders, his back all were covered with the same brown fur. His beer belly rolled over his belt like a hairy globe. He walked over to where I was hanging. You talk too much, he said, then stuffed the T-shirt in my mouth. He pushed it so far in that I thought I'd throw up. But I knew that if I did I would choke on it, so I tried to regain some composure. Despite the scary circumstances, the T-shirt smelled virile and extremely sexy, and each breath got me a little more excited. His pungent body odor worked like an aphrodisiac, and within a minute I had a raging erection.

Then he took off my shoes, my socks, my pants. I knew that struggling would only make my arms hurt more, and there was no way I could get loose. I remained still while he took a pair of scissors and cut away my Polo shirt, until I at last was completely naked. The scissors did not stop there, however. He began trimming my pubic hair, cutting in uneven clips that began getting perilously close to my still erect cock. When he had removed as much hair as was possible with the scissors, he did the same trim job on my armpits. Next he took out a straight razor, wet me down with a hand-held showerhead, and began shaving me from neck to toe. For all his roughness, he was surehanded and careful with the razor. I started to cry with fear, and when he saw that he took off his belt and said I'll give you something to cry about, then began whipping my ass. He laid all his strength into each stroke of the belt, and the noise reverberated through the building like a pistol shot. Each contact with the belt had enough force to raise me off my toes, and by the time ten swats had been administered my ass was red-hot burning, and my wrists were rubbed raw from the cuffs. My breathing came in short, staccoto bursts.

Next he unscrewed the showerhead from the hose, and screwed on an attachment that looked like a plastic wand with holes drilled in it. He turned on the water, adjusted the temperature, then stuck the wand up my ass. He had turned on the water to nearly full blast, and within one or two seconds I was so full I could feel pain in my stomach. He pulled the wand out, and it took all my strength to hold in the water.

Let is out, he ordered. I couldn't. How could I just dump in someone's bathtub? This hose is going back inside in three seconds, he said. You'd better make room, or you're really gonna feel pain. I released my load, and could feel the water and other debris falling down my legs and draining away. True to his promise, he shoved the wand back inside my ass, and again held it there until I thought I'd burst. Again, he told me to let loose. Three, four, five times we went through this routine. Each time he filled me to the point of pain, then when I drained out I felt as empty as could be. When the water leaving my body was as clear as the water entering, he ordered me to let my ass muscles stay loose. Don't clamp onto the hose, he said. How could I do that? `I'm gonna leave this inside you for a minute, and you'd better learn some muscle control now. With that he shoved the hose up inside again, and I involuntarily clamped onto it. But I quickly filled to the point of pain and learned to relax on demand. My ass loosened up, and the water began flowing out as fast as it flowed in. He began pushing the hose further up inside me, probing with this water jet. I just kept letting it flow out, and he kept going further inside. After about a minute of this he pronounced me clean inside and stopped. He pulled out the hose and I began draining drip by drip into the tub.

Then he lathered me up, scrubbed me down, and rinsed me off. I was still hanging in the shower when he came in with a metal aparatus. It looked like an X, a cross of metal bars that pivoted at the center. At each end was a leather cuff, and he laced each of my ankles to an end. He turned me sideways in the tub, spread the metal X to stretch my legs out, then unlocked the handcuffs. Using the same procedure he laced my right hand to the same pole as my left ankle, my left hand to the same pole as my right ankle. So I was tied onto this X, which meant that when I spread my legs, it also spread my arms. In order to stand up, I had to raise my arms over my head. He grabbed me around the waist and carred me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, tossed me face down on the bed, and went back downstairs.

When he returned he had a salad bowl with several items in it that I couldn't see. He took off his pants, and for the first time I could see his enormous cock. It was semi- erect and hung at a downward angle. It was the biggest cock I'd ever seen, and the foreskin hung about an inch longer than the head. He went to the end of the bed, spread my legs apart (which spread my arms apart too), and began roughly lubricating my ass with some type of oil.

I'm hungry, he said. And you know what I'm hungry for? Salad He came beside the bed where I could see him, and took a large baster which he filled with Wesson Oil. Then he walked back to the end of the bed and I could feel him inserting the plastic tube up my ass. Once all the way in, where I could feel the bulb on my cheeks, he squeezed the bulb and squirted a full load of oil up my ass. He poured the rest of the oil in the salad bowl, then reached in and pulled out a large cucumber.

First we start with the cucumber, he said, and proceeded to shove it up my ass. It was a large cucumber, so I felt stretched to my maximum with its entrance. Then he came back to the side of the bed. Now, you're going to have to practice the muscle control I taught you in the shower. If any of my salad comes out before I'm ready to eat, I'll have to use the belt again. Got it? I nodded my head. Now these here are fresh boiled eggs, he said, then held up two white eggs. The outside is cooled a bit, but the yolk is still scalding hot. So you'd better relax your ass to let them inside, cause if you squeeze the yolk out you're gonna get one scalded asshole. Then he began slowly shoving the eggs up inside me. I tried as much as I could to prevent my ass from squeezing the eggs, but once I contracted a bit and I could feel the inner heat. At last he had them both inside me. I was feeling full.

Now, finally, the tomato, he said, then held up a medium sized tomato. I knew that wouldn't fit, but then he warned me If you squash the tomato then you'll have to eat the salad yourself. And you might never get back to your car. Understand? I nodded in mute fear. Around where I couldn't see I felt his hand pushing the tomato to my asshole. When it wouldn't go I felt him shove a couple of fingers inside and pull sideways to stretch me some more. I groaned in pain, but couldn't make any other noise. I was so full and stretched and hurting that I was nearly exhausted. Remember your muscle control, he said, and I consciously tried to relax my ass even more. At last, slowly, I could feel the whole tomato enter me. My ass contracted several times once the widest part of the tomato was through, but I didn't squash it. During all this preparation the Grizzly Bear's cock was getting harder.

Now I'm gonna remove my shirt, he said at last. But if you scream, if you make any noise at all I'll shove it back in so deep you won't be able to made any sounds again. Do you understand? I nodded yes, and he yanked the shirt out of my mouth. My jaw ached from being opened so wide for so long, and I felt such a relief that I sighed. He walked up close to the bed and said Do you want it dry? and pointed to his cock. My ass already hurt so much that I quickly opened up my mouth and let him stick his cock inside. Once in my mouth, he began pulling back his foreskin. He hadn't bathed in a while, that was obvious. I smelled the pungent odor of his smegma, tried to keep it from getting loose in my mouth. But he began fucking my mouth with such force that before I knew it I could feel bits of debris rolling against my tongue. Each breath filled me with his cockhead odor, drowning out the smell and taste of his armpits I'd received from his T-shirt. But when he pulled his cock out of my mouth he grabbed my head in a headlock and forced me to lick his armpits clean, so that odor came back soon enough.

Finally he moved back to the end of the bed, and I could feel the bed sink under the weight as he climbed aboard. His cock began to enter my already full ass, and he shoved in full length and started thrusting inside me like a jackhammer. Each time he shoved in he struck home, and I could feel the pain of a cucumber being shoved against some inner organ.

You're too loose, he said at last. Let's feel some of that muscle control you learned this evening. Grab my cock with your ass. The tighter you grab, the sooner I'll cum, the faster you get back to your car. This was the first indication I'd had that I might get out of this alive, so with renewed interest I tried to grab tight with ass muscles already worked to their limit. After about ten minutes of having this hairy bear rutting me, he groaned and yelled and came. Then he said Okay, I'm done fucking you. Now I'm hungry.

With that he climbed off the bed, spread my ass cheeks, and said Give it to me. He then shoved his bearded face to my ass and I could feel his hairy mouth at my asshole. It felt so good and warm and tender after all I'd already been through, and I just enjoyed it for a minute or so. But then he yelled give me my damn salad and again put his mouth on my asshole. I began to work my abdomen muscles, shoving slowly to expell the vegetables he'd stuffed in me. First the huge mass of tomato came out, slowly at first. As the vegetables came out, he bit and chewed them and swallowed. I felt the juice of the tomato run onto the bed and form a puddle at my cock. Next the eggs shot out, one by one. All the while I could feel his mouth working, chewing, his beard rubbing my thighs raw. I could hear him grunting and making noises like a pig at the feed trough, but I kept pushing out. At last the cucumber came, feeling like the biggest turd I'd ever had. Slowly, inch by inch, he devoured the cucumber as it slid out of my asshole. At last I was done, and he was done. He grabbed me and turned me over on the bed.

Now for dessert, he said, then took my achingly hard cock in his mouth. He sucked with an incredible amount of energy, and I lay exhausted and still until I shot my rocks into his hot and hairy mouth. Then he unlaced the cuffs that held me immobile, tossed me my tattered clothes, and said Let's go fix that car of yours. By the way, I took the liberty of going through your wallet and getting your name, address and phone number. How about dinner on Sunday.

What could I do? He was fixing my car - I'd have to reciprocate, right?

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