Unlikely Obsession

Usually, he used the strap lightly, but on this night he laid into me as he would have when unfettered and uncontrolled in Ahmedabad, knowing, probably, that it would be some time before he bedded me the next time, leaving me long enough to heal before he was at me again so that I could offer him pure, unblemished skin the next time we copulated. Conversely, he fucked me more totally than he usually did, and, to my shame, I had come to the point of welcoming the harder beatings to get the more satiating sex.

He was thick and long. His upcurved cock reached far into me, and the curve of his shaft had his cockhead caressing me at every point inside me had me panting hard and hyperventilating for him. He was hirsute and dark skinned and strong. He embraced me close from behind as he worked my channel, and the rubbing of his silky and curly chest hair against the welts he'd raised on my back brought me a pain-pleasure that was as sensual as it was unexplainable.

"Yes, yes, yes!" I cried out, not being able to help myself. His fetish had touched me at my most sensitive, sensual point.

I hardened and came for him more profusely than any man I'd had before—except, now that I thought of it, perhaps for the mechanic I'd just unexpectedly run into when I took the Thunderbird in for the problem of the loose oil pan.

Vijay didn't touch me again, allowing me to heal, for the next week and a half as he prepared to leave for Ahmedabad and then did so, with the understanding that I would fly out in two more weeks.

I don't know if it was fortuitous or not that I would be taking the Thunderbird back to the car garage—and to the mechanic—before it was time for me to leave for India.

* * * *

The garage was closed when I arrived at the appointed time to have a new oil pan put on the Thunderbird, but the mechanic was there and he had the part that needed to be installed. Again he appeared only to be wearing coveralls. When I pulled up in front of the garage doors, expecting them to open even though I saw no lights inside, the driver's door opened and he was standing there beside the Thunderbird, his hand possessively palming the hood of the car just as confidently as the hand had possessed me in the bathroom of the leather bar.

"Get out of the car and go over there and stay out of the way," he said.

When I was slow getting out of the car, he opened the driver's door, grabbed my forearm and pulled me out of the car. The physicality of him made me go immediately docile and submissive. Vijay had trained me well. It was clear now that the mechanic remembered me from the bar.

"Are you going to—?" I said with a whimper.

"Shut the fuck up and go over there and be quiet until I finish this job," he growled.

I went off to the side, crouched down on my haunches, and watched him work. I was clear that we were alone at the garage. It was pretty clear too, that he was going to manhandle and fuck me when he finished fixing the Thunderbird. It was equally clear that I would let him.

He worked quickly and efficiently. He was more fully dressed than he had been the last time I'd been here, but not by much. I was bundled up enough, but I shivered for him. There'd been no place for me to go, for me to find to sit, and that seemed to be his plan—to keep me off center.

When the pan had been put in place, he opened the driver's door again, took the keys out of the ignition, and turned to give me a long look. Then he started walking away. He held his hand out, with my keys dangling from his middle finger. He held me dangling the same possessive way from his cock.

I got it and followed him. He walked back to Westchester Avenue, turned right, walked a couple of blocks along a narrow path cleared of snow, and entered the Pelham Bay Baths. It was a gay hookup club; I'd been there once or twice when I was slumming. I'd gotten gang fucked in there each time; that didn't prevent me from returning when the mood to do so hit me. He never looked back to see if I was following him, but of course I was. When I got to the desk where you checked in and showed your membership or paid for a day pass, the attendant said, "No need to pay. You are Adrik's guest."

So, his name was Adrik. I followed him to the locker room, where he banged a locker open and I assumed, rightly apparently, that it was mine. I stopped there. He moved farther down the bench to another locker. We watched either other closely as we stripped down. I went to naked; all Adrik was wearing was the whip he wore around his waist as a belt. He was still hung and in half erection. I wasn't nearly as hung, but I was in half erection as well. He could have no doubt that I would yield to him. I followed him out to a dimly lit, cinder-block walled room that was sectioned off into wire cages. He slipped into one of the cages and to the far side of it, and I followed him in. Three naked young men followed us in. I don't know if that was by prearrangement or not.

I would have gone to him then, but two of the men embraced me in their arms, while the third went to Adrik, who had backed up to the wire cage wall and posed there, his arms raised over his head, the whip in his hand. The young man who went to him knelt in front of him and took Adrik's long, long cock in his mouth. Adrik's arm came down and he played the whip on the young man's back. Adrik's eyes were on me, though.

The two young, muscular men holding onto me prevented me from going to Adrik. One stood in front of me and the other behind. They ran their hands over my body and alternated between taking my lips with theirs. The one behind me lifted my arms and, too late, I found that there was a chain with wrist restraints coming down from the ceiling where I was standing. My wrists were bound. The two men went down on their knees, the one in front taking my cock in his mouth and the one behind pressing his face with my crack and tonguing my ass.

The young man sucking off Adrik rose; climbed onto the front of the mechanic, like a monkey; and hung there in front of him, his thighs hooked on Adrik's hips, feet hanging on the wire, and his hands grabbing the wire wall of the cage behind Adrik's chest, and he fucked himself on Adrik's nine inches of meat, as Adrik kept his eyes on me and flicked his whip on the young man's buttocks and back.

The men using me stood. The one in back encircled my waist with a beefy arm and raised my body and pulled me back down on his cock. He tilted my hips up, and the one in front of me entered me with his cock as well, and the two fucked me together. I took the double attention of the two thugs silently. Vijay had trained me to the double penetration, and this wasn't too punishing—the two men weren't overly thick. I wanted Adrik to know that I would take it—and that I would take him again when he was ready to use me.

I don't know if Adrik came with the monkey man or not, because the next time I looked over there, the young man was curled up on the ground, writhing, as Adrik stood over him and whipped him hard on every exposed surface. I suspect Adrik had not released, because it wasn't too long before the monkey man, groaning, pulled himself up from the ground, all three of the men pulled away from us, and Adrik came over, flicking his whip, and gave me some attention with it, mercifully not with the vigor he'd used on the monkey man.

When we both were hard as rocks, Adrik released my wrists, guided me into the sauna chamber, and settled me on a towel on the top shelf. He crouched over me, spreading my legs and hooking them on his hips, and, entered me slowly and deeply with his nine incher. Panting hard, I begged for all of it. He laughed, buried his cock inside me and rocked against me, working me deep. He fucked me to his completion. The other three men were in the sauna as well, and the two men who had shared me double penetrated the monkey man.

When he had come—I had already shot my load up his belly—he pressed his forehead to mine, and said, simply, "I am Adrik Aspidov. Your car registration says your name is Logan Gaines. We fit well."

"Yes," I answered, simply. All it took to possess me was to know my name and to state the obvious—that we were an unlikely, but perfectly matched, pair. I had been bred to crave long cock and pain and he dispensed both.

He left me and went to the showers. I followed. We stood under separate showerhead. Two men were in the shower, one fucking the other against a wall, but Adrik and I watched each other, not them.

I followed him back to the garage. He was sitting in the driver's seat of the Thunderbird when I got there, the key in the ignition. I climbed into the passenger seat. He drove me around the block and into an alley, driving up to a garage door.

"Get out and open it," he said. I did so, and he drove the Thunderbird into a single garage with tools covering the walls.

"Close the garage door," he said, and I did.

There was a door at the back of the garage, which opened into a stairwell. I followed him up two flights to a one-bedroom apartment that was simply furnished but clean. The bed was a four-poster bristling with restraints in various places. He put me on my belly, naked and spread-eagled, tied off at the four corners.

He whipped me on the back and thighs lightly, enough to show welts but not enough for the effect to last for more than a few days. I cried out, "Yes, yes, yes!" and he laid harder into me, whipping me until he was fully erect. Then he climbed up on the bed, mounted my ass, ran his nine inches up into to the hilt, and fucked the shit out of me.

Afterward, he lay stretched out on top of me, running his fingers over the welts he had raised, and kissing me in the hollow of my throat. Putting his mouth to me ear, he wished, "The thing is that we fit."

"Yes," I answered.

"I'm going to use you up," he said, "and you want it so bad you're going to let me do it."

"Yes," I answered, and I knew that I wouldn't be following Vijay Kohli to Ahmedabad.