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From: Andy Caulden <andycaulden@yahoo.com>
Subject: ST: "High School Pucks Pt. 1" (Mtt/t) (NC)(BOND)
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===================

High School Pucks Pt. 1

By Andy Caulden

andycaulden@yahoo.com
Comments, suggestions, and questions welcomed.

--The following story is a work of fiction; any
resemblance to persons, places, or events is strictly
coincidental. This story involves explicit, non
consensual sexual content taking place between men and
teens. If such a premise offends you, is illegal by
law to obtain, examine, or otherwise view in your
place of residence or business, please do not
proceed.--


It was serious. We were one game away from the
playoffs. If we could make it, I knew we could take
all. Our practice was more often held in poor
facilities--cold, damp, and dark--and the team we were
playing next week always had better training and
equipment. In other words, they usually beat us.

I went to their games to study the flow of their team
when I noticed the goalie. He had strands of black
hair wet and swirled around, and his blue eyes and
freckled skin shone on the ice. His frame wasn't too
thick, but was well muscled and built stronger than
taller, in the perfect way. He was the key. 

He didn't let alot of pucks through.

There were three of us. I put the plan together and
sold two teammates, Aaron and Myke, on the idea that
if we were to kidnap and humiliate the hot goalie, we
could force him to loose. The deal was sealed by Myke,
who noted if pictures were taken of the ordeal we'd
have digital blackmail to use for more than just this
one-time deal.

* * *

He had just finished watching a flick with a few of
his bros on a friday night and was headed home,  when
we started following him out of the town on the
moonlit avenues towards his home.

We were in an old ambulance, stripped, which Aaron
used to haul his ska band's equipment, carefully
trailing him, lucky enough not to have any other car
at the stop for his turn off the road, 

Aaron slightly bumped his car, and in response he
turned it off and got out, greeted by the three of us
running towards him, knocking the air out of him with
a strong punch to the gut, as we quickly cuffed his
hands behind his back.

We tied a cloth sack over his head and dragged him to
our jambulance, his screams and curses having no
chance of ever being heard. We crudely duct taped his
ankles together and threw him in the back. 

We drove to our athletic complex, Myke driving his car
and following us; everything going according to plan.
When we got there, Aaron unlocked the door and entered
the security code to ensure the alarm would not go
off. We had the place to ourselves.

It was fun, carrying the bouncing, straining sophomore
boy into the showers. I knew he was very skilled for
his age. Sixteen. Really sixteen, that is to say he
was bursting with youth, confidence, hormones, and
energy, and by any other account still looked like was
in middle school in some innocent way, but he was no
match for the three of us.

With force, we stripped him naked, and stretched him
taught, cuffing and tying his hands tightly to the
shower-head above and shackling his feet to a bar
which spread his legs and caused him to barely raise
on his toes to relieve the bite of the handcuffs. 

Myke pulled the bag off his head, and he quickly
looked around. He recognized me.

"What the fuck is going on here? Let me go you sick
fucks."

He started screaming out for help; we took care of
that nonsense with a nice strip of duct tape across
his mouth, reducing him to muffled yells I couldn't
really make out.

His eyes were shot with fear when I turned the shower
on full and hot--afterall, it was winter--but were
soon covered by a small wet towel tied tied twice,
blindfolding him; blocking out the flicking
fluorescent light that dimly lit the showers in the
basement, built in the 40's, I think. One big room
with decayed green and beige tile.

I came up behind him, my hand catching the water
running down his chest, massaging it and feeling the
heat of spray. He knew what was going on when my
fingers strongly slid across his nipples in the water,
sometimes successful with a twist, other times not. 

"Jeremy, " I said into his ear. 

"We've lost too many times to you guys, and you've got
an important game coming up. We need to make sure you
understand how to play it, if you know what I mean." 
He pulled uselessly at his binds, stopped quickly,
then tried to avoid the stingy, tickling feeling of
the spray. Myke adjusted the shower-head to spray
downward, centering on his navel and healthy basket,
flopping about as he struggled with the new sensation.

Real heat. Steam filled up the room while I continued
talking.

"We've got hours of plans for you. We're going to wear
you out, and get you off. We're gonna take some great
photos, and we're going to send them to everyone you
know, and everyone we know if you don't cooperate with
us, got it?"

"Picture yourself right now, for example."

He cursed us from behind the tape, then said something
I couldn't make out.

Myke clicked away with a camera as Aaron started 
groping and molesting him, his writhing smooth body
dripping with sweat and water playing like dough into
hands, making his young and horny dick draw wood in no
time. 

I walked dripping to the equipment room and grabbed a
hockey stick, stopping in the locker room to grab my
bag of goodies.

When I returned, Myke and Aaron were teasing and
tweaking the boy, slapping his stomach occasionally
and laughing at his reaction. I firmly smacked his
smooth, taught ass several times with the hockey
stick, getting stifled screams from him each time,
quickly turning his rear pink. His chest was flush as
the hot water and the pain from everything else
tortured his skin.

We each took turns.  One of us would be tanning his
hide, not too hard, but not comfortably, with one of
us using both hands to scrabble around his cock and
balls, slowly and firmly stroking his dick in the hot
rolling water, while the other worked his chest over.

When I was down at his crotch, I got a great squeal
when I thought to peel his foreskin back and expose
his sensitive cock head, aiming it to catch the spray,
then taking his pole inside my mouth, flicking my
tongue back an forth. I could tell he was hating this,
but had fuck to do about it. 

Aaron was somewhat strange. 

Instead of working and teasing Jeremy's penny-sized,
firm nubs, he'd often clamp his fingers over his nose,
releasing him at the last moment while he violently
struggled for air.  This only made his dick harder.

We turned the water to a lukewarm, softer stream, and
I began to spread his crack. He moved as much he could
to avoid my finger, dripping with water that made his
virgin hole slick. 

I forced my way in, and slowly worked inside him with
a few fingers, exploring inside the boy of my dreams.
We worked him up like this harder and faster, until he
was up on his toes with his hands in fists, flexing
and blasting the tile with his scum, grunting in
frustration and ecstasy as the orgasm spread through
his body, forced to cum by anal stimulation alone. 

Myke came around to get a shot of the vibrator I'd
picked up poking against his ass for a while, he was
saying something, pleading i think, but when he
finally accepted the inevitable, I slid it up inside
him and prodded his nut once again. 

I turned the buzzing on, and firmly swirled and
prodded around with it, the three of us sending him
towards another forced orgasm in just a few minutes,
which was more intense than the last. 

Myke peeled the tape off, and his streams of curses,
pleas, threats, groans and gasps flowed and echoed
loud in the room.

"Fuck! Shit. Stop this shit goddamnit. Fuck--I'm going
to--arghhh", he groaned when I jammed the vibrator
firmly against his prostate.

"Allright. Okay, I'll do it. I don't care anymore,
just please, let me go. I won't tell anyone--you have
to stop this shit now dude--"

I interrupted.

"Of course you say you'll do what we want now, I
imagine this is torture for you, but I don't know.
You're still hard, and I'm not convinced. And you
won't tell anyone... unless you want everyone to see
you like this. How would you explain it."

We blindfolded him again. His head hung low and I
warned him he'd better not try anything when we
uncuffed his hands to tie them behind his back, he
obeyed and we led him slowly to the weight room.

We retied his hands onto one of the punching bag
screws in the weight room, his feet still humbled by
the bar, make his legs ache and strain constantly.

"Open wide, I said." 

He asked why, and I firmly twisted his nipple,
reminding him of what was going on, and he opened his
mouth as I forced a jock from the laundry bin into his
mouth and secured it with some tape.

I put boxing gloves on and slid one down and lightly
tapped his stomach. Then firmer and firmer until I was
getting good whips of air out each time my boxing
glove made contact. 

Myke and Aaron playfully took slaps at his hard
stomach, when I stopped to lube up the vibrator and
shoved it inside him, working him to cum again. When I
saw him get close I would back off, only to bring him
to the edge again. All the while he ""umppphhmmpped"
from the smacks on his stomach. I signaled to Myke and
he again started with the flicks while Aaron applied
icy hot onto his nipples used it as lube as he brought
the boy off, making him shoot a load that splattered
all over the sweat stained floor.

A few moments after that he became livid, feeling the
intense burn from the muscle cream, and more was
spread on his balls and a fresh bit worked into his
cockhead by some torturous fingers.

"Well, " I said.

"I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. We're going
to a diner to grab a bite to eat, be back later."

He kicked as much as his shackled feet would allowed
and furiously pulled at his hands, but it did nothing
more than to already worsen the painful, minty burn on
his most sensitive parts.

-End of Part 1


      ____________________________________________________________________________________
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