Abducted and Bound

I wondered if Roy was as insecure about the size of his penis as Kenny was. As for me, I much preferred to be able to go all the way down on a cock, and that was something that I could only dream about experiencing myself so far. It seemed like it must feel wonderful.

Roy's balls bounced against my chin as I inhaled his member, my lips and tongue working enthusiastically on my abductor's reed-thin dick while he groaned and moved his hips to help in the efforts.

Roy told me he was cumming, but I could already sense that when I felt his cock surge. The initial jet of his warm cum spurted onto the roof of my mouth, and then his seed trickled out after that, a musky nectar that was not unpleasant at all.

I kept sucking on his dick until it became too small to hang onto, and then Roy leaned away from me.

"Thank you so much," Roy said, and it sounded like he was sobbing as I felt him kiss my cum-stained lips.

As he straightened up, his hand brushed against the blindfold, and my right eye became just a bit uncovered. Nothing obvious, but enough to let a little light in through the side. If I could get it to move a bit more, maybe I could see what was around me and who Roy was.

****

My brief peek didn't last long, as Roy straightened the blindfold out when he returned, but I sensed that I was in a cabin of some kind. Nothing that was still lived in, but more like an abandoned hunting camp, full of dusty remnants of past lives.

Roy had gray hair and looked like he was in his 60's and appeared to be tall, which was all I could get from the glimpse I got. No way I could ever pick him out of a police lineup or anything.

Roy gave me a massage, first working on my front side. By the time he got to my crotch, I was hard again, a result of his masterful touch. Roy went down on me again, and when I told him I was about to cum, he finished me off by hand, his fists jacking me off hard.

He said he had always loved to watch a man ejaculate, and I guess I must have cum really good because he enjoyed it while I felt my cum plop down on my stomach and chest while his fists pumped away at me.

Roy cleaned me up and continued the massage, and as he did he told me about himself. He was 64 and had been married for over 20 years when he started to realize that he had feelings for other men.

Around that time, his wife got the same feeling, so when he caught her playing around he used that as an excuse to divorce her. They had a son, grown by then, and when Roy admitted to his son that he was gay, the son didn't take it well. They were estranged, and had remained so ever since.

"I called him a few months back, just to tell him that I wasn't going to be around much longer," Roy explained. "I was going to try and at least tell him that I loved him and understood why he was angry with me."

"He told me that faggots get what they deserve, that it would make him happy if I died a slow and painful death," Roy concluded. "Guess I'm going to finally do something right."

I tried to tell him I was sorry, but I couldn't get the words out. I started to cry and so did he, and then he eased down upon me and hugged me until we had no more tears to shed.

****

"Then he just walked out," I told Roy, wrapping up my break-up that had led me to this camping excursion.

"His loss," Roy assured me, his oiled hands massaging my back and shoulders as he had been doing ever since he rolled me onto my stomach. "There will be someone else. Someone more deserving than him."

"Maybe."

"How I wished I had realized when I was your age that what I thought was just curiousity about other men was what I really wanted, instead of just trying to conform and pretend that I was the normal red-blooded macho man," Roy said.

"I've never been with a young man," Roy said. "Never did anything with a man at all until I was past 50. My only lovers have been my contemporaries, and I've always yearned to feel the body of someone young like yourself."

Roy's hands were down at the base of my spine, and when he parted my ass cheeks I didn't fight him, and actually helped him. I knew what was going to happen, and I did not resist.

"You're so beautiful," Roy said, his finger stroking my anus before poking a bit inside of me, and then I felt him shifting his position.

My hands were still tied above me, but when Roy had undid the bindings one at a time, he hadn't made the left wrist all that tight, so I suppose I could have tried to yank my hand out, but I didn't.

"Can I?" I heard Roy whisper behind me, and my answer was to raise my backside up as far as I could.

Roy's tongue danced around the puckered ring, while I ground my rear end back into his face. Then his tongue was gone and his finger was back - not his finger - his cock.

"Oh!" Roy cried out when he pushed his dick into my rectum, and he kept crying out like that as he pushed the head of his dick in and out of my ass.

It felt good, the sensation of the head of his dick popping in and out of my balloon knot, and I was sorry when I heard Roy groan as he came, the warm cum soothing my tender orifice as his dick popped out for the last time.

****

"It's almost dawn," Roy said.

I had fallen asleep, and Roy's movements had woke me up. I sensed him getting dressed above me, and then he was kneeling next to me.

"I'm very ashamed of myself, but I also have to confess that it has been the greatest thrill of my life. I hope someday you'll forgive me for what I've done here," Roy said. "I wish I didn't have to do this now."

When I heard those words, I panicked, jerking my hands in an effort to get free as I felt Roy's hands around my neck, but then I smelled that familar scent as the cloth was pushed over my nose.

"Goodbye Travis. I love you," were the last words I recall.

****

When I came to, I was back at my campsite, laying in the same place that I had been when Roy had abducted me. My mouth was parched and my wrists were sore, and I felt a bit woozy as well, but I was alive. I was alive and the sun was rising.

I was also dressed. Roy had put my jeans back on so I was fully intact even if I had been violated. My legs were shaky when I stood up and got a drink out of my water container, and after quenching my thirst I reached into my jeans pocket to get rid of the bunching that pressed against my thigh. My hand hit something that hadn't been there before, and when I pulled it out I nearly fainted.

It was a wad of bills bound with a rubber band, and it was certainly not mine because there were a couple of denominations that I rarely even saw before. An whole lot of money - the kind of money that I had never held before - and as I rifled through the thick wad of currency it occurred to me that while I was not rich, my college loan would be a lot less than it was now.

There was a note stuck inside the pile of money, written on a scrap of paper that read simply, "You gave me everything, so I am returning the favor. Love. Enjoy life. Roy".

As I counted the money, I knew I couldn't take it, so I spent the rest of that day and the next looking for Roy. I knew this was a symbol of how he felt about his son rejecting him, and probably he had nobody else to give the money to, but I wanted to give him the money back, because if he was trying to buy off my silence, I didn't work that way.

It had been a horrible experience, especially at first, but I had grown to like the man despite it all. I wished that instead of doing what he had done, he had just come up to the campsite and made small talk and had gone from there.

He was right about something though. I probably would have rejected him and his advances. I would have found him unappealing and not given him a chance.

For the rest of my stay up at Forked Lake, I did a lot of bushwhacking, and eventually found the shack that I had been taken to. There was no evidence of what had gone on there except a clean spot on the dusty wooden floor where the mat had been and a couple of burnt out candles.

There was no sign of Roy. During our talks, when I had asked him what he was planning to do, he said that he wasn't going back for any more chemo because it wasn't worth it. He said that he would do what elephants did when their time had come; go off and die by themselves with dignity.

I never saw Roy again, and after my wrists healed I thought about him less and less. Summer passed and winter came and my life went on. The next summer I had a new boyfriend and went about asking him if he would like to do some backcountry camping with me.

"No way," Todd said. "Did you read what happened to that guy up in the Adirondacks?"

I hadn't but Todd showed me the article. It seems as if a group of hunters had come across a decomposing body way back in the woods. All he had with him was a smashed digital camera, and it had taken quite a while to determine who it was.

The image of a withered and dying old man, wracked with pain, sitting alone and looking at the pictures he had taken of me before shattering the camera, was overwhelming despite all that went with it.

"The remains of Roy Hollins, divorced man with one son, who appears to have been hiking and gotten lost last year, were found seven miles north of Forked Lake," the article read. "No foul play is suspected."

"See," I told Todd, a strange sense of sadness washing over me. "No foul play. It's safe up there, as long as you aren't alone."

***

thank you for reading