A fictional story.
House of cards.
Lewis grinned, stretched his arms above his head and rolled his shoulders, easing the tension in his neck. The young man looked at the four cards on the table in front of him: the two of clubs, four of diamonds, six of diamonds, and eight of hearts. His heart rate slowed by eight to ten beats per minute.
Mike, an athletic man in his 50s, sat opposite him, quiet and composed as his big hands gathered the cards together and shuffled the deck. “My turn to deal,” he said, “hopefully we have a better round this time.” Mike glanced to his left and right before looking down at Lewis, who was sitting on a small wooden bench, making him noticeably shorter than the other three men.
The four men secretly studied the two cards dealt to them. Mike’s chiselled face was like stone. To his left sat Jack, with bowling-ball-sized shoulders and mountainous biceps. Jack was about the same age as Lewis, and held the cards delicately, with a cheeky smile. Andrew was around the same age as Mike, he was visibly strong, and taller than Mike, but slimmer. He completed the group and welcomed them to his home for the evening. Andrew’s leg shuffled as he tapped the two cards on the tabletop. A bead of sweat ran down Lewis’s temple.
“Hit,” said Jack. He picked up the third card being placed in front of him, “Stick,” he said.
Lewis looked at the pair of fives in his hand, “Hit,” he said, looking up at the three men leaning forward to see his next move. He turned the third card over to see the eight of hearts again. “Stick,” he said, gingerly placing the cards face down.
“I will stick,” Andrew said, almost celebratory. Andrew sat back in his padded chair, raised his glass and took a controlled sip. He then faced Mike, lifted a corner of his mouth and nodded.
Mike waved his hand down and patted the table, making a basey thud on the oak. “Let’s see those cards then,” Mike said, “Have the boy go first, he won the last round.” Mike aimed his glare at the cards in front of Lewis, who flipped the three cards over to show his score.
“Eighteen,” Lewis said.
Jack shook his head and threw his cards into the middle of the table. “Eighteen,” he said. “And what about our host?”
Andrew reached over and patted Lewis’s hand. “Twenty,” he replied, gently trying to reassure Lewis, who held his hands between his knees and looked down at the table. “Mike, you’ve been quiet. What have you got?”
“Ten of clubs,” Mike said as he overturned the first card, “and the Ace of spades.” He said with triumph. Mike put both hands on the table and pushed himself up. Lewis lifted his chin up before having to lift it higher to see the new energy in Mike’s face. “It looks like Game Over. We have had three Blackjacks. You know the rules, boy.”
Lewis could not forget what he had agreed to; if he had won three games against these three giants, he could walk away, but if they won three rounds in this way, his night had just begun. When Andrew had first messaged him with the rules, Lewis knew that it would be a long shot, but that was part of the fun. Maybe he would win; he could get the clothes back that he gave up when he entered the hallway, they would enjoy a beer and everyone would go home happy.
“If we win three rounds with Blackjack, you must do everything we say.” Andrew said in one of the messages.
“Hands on your head,” Mike said, barking at Lewis, “Now.” Mike was standing up, peeling his shirt off over his head. “Stand up, walk to the corner and kneel on the floor.”
Lewis, his knees almost clattering together, shuddered as he uncertainly did as he was told. The three men huddled together by the table, like a group of footballers celebrating a goal, Andrew, the team captain, patting his goalscorer on the back. Jack unbuttoned his shirt and threw it onto the table.
Andrew stepped out of the room for a few seconds, returning with a duffel bag and lowered the lights. He reached Lewis and strapped two black-leather cuffs around the smaller male’s wrists. He then lowered the left arm to the small of his back as Jack took hold of the right arm. Andrew clipped the cuffs together and gave Mike, who had grown into his role, a knowing look.
They had done this before. It's how Jack had become part of their clan, but Jack had won their game and made it out of the front door with a special invitation to this night. Lewis had been so close, yet so far. So he was now on his knees, facing a wall with his hands restrained behind his back.
“You will do everything we say,” Andrew said, confirming the words he sent to Lewis before agreeing to this date. “I know you are nervous. You can leave if you want, but you have trusted me enough to be here, so let us treat you to a good night.”
Mike and Jack chuckled as they picked up the bag and began to select items from it. Lewis concentrated on slowing his breathing, closing his eyes as he breathed in through his nose. “You’ll be fine,” Jack whispered to Lewis as he leaned in and carefully wrapped a blindfold over his eyes. “You can trust us.” A clasp clicked as Mike used his powerful hands to fasten a collar around Lewis's slim neck.
“This could be your best find yet,” Mike said to Andrew. He immediately shifted his attention back to Lewis. “From now on, boy, you will call us Sir or Master. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Lewis replied quietly.
“‘Yes’ what?” Andrew asked with added menace, cupping Lewis by the chin.
“Yes, Master,” Lewis said, shivering as the two simple words fell out of his mouth. He heard some rustling to one side and a clinking sound from the other. The temporary loss of his sight heightened each little noise. The hairs on his arms and legs stood up as he tried to picture whose hands were caressing his chest and shoulders. He could feel some of the weight of the loss being lifted.
Then a sharp jolt of pain threw him off balance as the bulbous steel end of a hook was inserted into his tight, soft ass. Involuntarily, Lewis created two large dimples in his cheeks as they squeezed together, failing to stop the metal from being forced inside him.
“Good boy,” Jack said calmly, “you are doing better than I could.”
Lewis heard a swift swish of rope as it was pulled through an eye on the hook, under Lewis’s arms, and tied together through a ring on the collar. It was expertly done. Tight enough to make Lewis need to uncomfortably arch his back or turn his neck to relieve some of the pressure on his stretched hole.
“Head down,” Mike said. Lewis grimaced as he lowered his jaw as instructed. “Well done, boy. Only two others have made it this far. Andy, do you remember the one that couldn’t even take the blindfold?” In unison, Mike and Andrew laughed approvingly through their noses. “Okay, boy, now on your feet.”
“Yes, Sir,” Lewis stood up slowly, with each movement, the stretches and strains altered how he took the next motion.
Eventually, he was standing with his left foot shaking on the cool wooden floor. His fingers felt the rope running along his spine. A pair of hands turned him around and walked him away from the corner of the room. After a seemingly endless walk, he was held still by at least three hands. Another powerful hand took hold of Lewis’s balls and flaccid penis, pushed them through a ring and locked everything together in a surprisingly heavy cage.
“Spread your legs,” Andrew said, “Wider. Wider. That’s good.” Two more cuffs were attached to Lewis’s ankles, his knees trembling at the movements and pulling sensation between his ass and neck, and the tugging of his balls under the extra weight of the cage. “We will lower you forward now, don’t panic, we are strong enough to carry at least twice your weight.”
Lewis’s body stiffened slightly as they first held him, bending him at the waist. His neck arched back as the rope became tight, causing him to cough slightly, but no sooner than he had inched closer to struggling, the hands lifted his hips and relieved the tension. Lewis could feel his feet frozen beyond shoulder-width apart as his knees rested on a soft mattress. His hands were pulled under his chest and fixed in place with two clips, in line with his ankles. It was quiet. Prone on the soft bed, he could only smell the clean scent of the fabric under his face. He had become used to the changes in feeling swarming his body, and was listening for any sign of his next test.
Then a drum of steady music shaped the background noise, distorting his senses. Lewis lost count as he attempted to track the seconds he was left there, alone. He could feel his heart beating faster, his breathing more defined. The rope was loosened unexpectedly and Lewis was able to rock his head to each side. He pressed his forehead into the mattress and tried to lift his upper body and shift his knees.
“You're not going far, boy,” Mike said, stroking the back of Lewis's head like he was an obedient puppy-in-training. “Ready for level two?”
“Don’t forget,” Andrew said, “you must do everything, and anything, we tell you to do.” The words were said firmly, a conviction that had been evident in the messages sent to Lewis only a few days ago, but it was more cutting in person. “But if you cannot take it, you could just leave.”
“I understand Sir,” Lewis replied with growing confidence. “I will try, Sir.”
“You will do better than try,” Mike said, “Time for you to take the next step in your training.”
The word ‘training’ lit up in Lewis’s mind, like a fluorescent billboard. He took a gulp of air though his nose. One of Mike’s fingers slipped under the blindfold, flicking it off, as Andrew grabbed hold of the hook and pulled it up towards Lewis’s head.
“Yes, Sir,” Lewis said, tinged with discomfort. He blinked, seeking to clear the haze from his eyes, which were tearing from the shock of the cold metal shifting in his clenched ass. As he got used to the light he looked to his right where standing at the side of the bed was Jack. Lewis paused, his eyes widened and mouth dropped open.
Jack was completely naked. His body was perfectly tanned, hairless and solid with definition. But Lewis could only focus on one thing, Jack’s fully erect cock, with its huge mushroom head, which was being edged closer to the young man’s exposed mouth.
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