Mean Man Next Door Ch. 01

Hi. I'm Tom. I'm 20, but look very youth full, with short blond hair. I'm a college student, fit, but slim. I play water polo with short blond hair.

With my smooth belly and strong arms, I get a good bit of attention from ladies my age. But I'm shy around girls. And before the experience related below, I had had almost no romantic encounters of any kind.

My troubles began, one weekend when my mother was out of town. I was watching tv, when my gay neighbor Bob called and asked me to come help him move some furniture, and boxes.

Bob has lived next door to me all my life. He's well into middle age, stocky and balding. Bob is a very good friend of my mother and I see him though the fence, and around frequently.

In the last few years I've noticed I've received more than a little attention from the gay man next door. Mostly since I started training, in our back yard pool, in a speedo.

His attention makes me very uncomfortable. But Bob seems to take a smug sort of pleasure in my discomfort. I'd notice him watching me most any time I was in the yard, starting at me when I worked out shirtless in the pool.

When I swam laps in my speedo, he always seemed to be doing yard work. He would often ask me to get out and speak to him. Then stare at my belly, legs, and wet package, asking me about my mother, school, anything...

As soon as I could, I'd get away. Knowing that if I glanced back Bob would be staring at my fit cheeks, rolling in my dripping bathing suit, as I walked away. I'd worry that my speedo was weggyed up my crack like a thong, but I'd be too scared of giving him a show by trying to adjust it.

I'm shy, I'd never done more than kiss a girl before, so having a dirty old man leer at my private parts made me pretty uncomfortable.

I took to scheduling my swim practices, so that I could be out of the yard before Bob was home from work. But with my busy school and training schedule, I sometimes got caught out in my speedos. Much to the enjoyment of the fat, hairy old pervert next door.

I might have mentioned his attentions to my mother, but I was too ashamed to bring it up. I also thought she would probably think I was being childish and paranoid, since he never leered at me when she was around.

So that Saturday Bob called, asking If i could help him move a couch and a few boxes. A few thing brought up from the basement.

Right away he started bossing me around. Telling me to be careful with his boxes, and not getting a thing himself. I did all he work by myself, wile he watched. And more than once I caught scoping out my bottom, as I squatted to lift the cases.

He seemed to enjoy lording over me. Watching me sweat, and joking that he. "Wouldn't mind training a boy like me as a full time servant, and house boy."

Seeing me instantly blush, Bob elaborated, teasing me. "I'd have to buy you off your mother of course, but I can afford it. I deserve to treat myself sometimes. And It would me nice to have an old fashion live in helper, cute maid uniform, obedient, speak when spoken to, and always the 'yes master'."

That talk was spooky. He was joking about "buying" me as a servant. And that thing about the "cute maid uniform". He was clearly imagining dressing me up in some sort of sexy French maid outfit.

As I got the last of the boxes, my nervous mind went to picturing French maids I'd seen in pin-ups and pornos. I couldn't help feeling a tingly of arousal imaging their long legs, in stockings and gater belts, short lacy black skirts, and high waisted thongs.

After bending over to grad the last item, I was aware again of Bob looking at my butt. He grinned wolfishly eyeing me as I crossed the room. Wanting me to know he was picturing me, in a sexy maids skirt and panties.

As you might imagine, I wanted to get out of there as quick as I could. Bob's creepy looks through the fence already made me uncomfortable. So I didn't much like being alone in his house with him. Especially on a weekend my mother was out of town, and I was home by my self.

I wanted to get the work done and get home as soon as possible, but Bob had other plans. Just as I finished moving the last case, in comes Bob with a glass of lemonade, and makes me take a seat with him on the couch.

"Im fine" I say.

Bob "Drink up its made special for you."

I took small sip, set the cup down.

"Now now, you won't leave till you have drank it all... you look dehydrated to me. And I wont send you home dehydrated, not with you home alone all weekend."

Not wanting to lengthen my stay I slugged the juice down in one long swallow.

Bob grinned. "Good boy"

As I stood to leave he pressed me down, looking me in the eyes.

My thoughts started to feel like they were out of order, and my eyelids felt heavy. My head starting to swim. Bob was staring at me with a strange fixity. I tried to say something but my tongue felt too heavy.

It came to my drugged brain too late. There had been something in the lemonade. I tried to say anything but my mouth wouldn't work. My eyes were getting heavy. In panic I weakly tried to rise. Bob gently pushed me back on the couch. "Hey sit back Tom, you look a little flushed. Relax."

His word sounded like they were coming from a million miles away. I tried to keep my eyes open, they closed, I was gone... blackness.

When I woke, I was aware of discomfort in my arms, shoulders, and chest. As I came fully awake, to my dismay, I realized I was in Bob's basement. To my further shock I found I was laying bent over a table, my hands and elbows tightly bound behind me. I struggled to a standing position, to find my feet tied to the table, my legs spread wide. I squirmed and tried to yell as I now perceived I had not just been bound and gagged, but stripped too. I was wearing nothing but my little undies.

My screams never materialized though, a big ball gag had been strapped between my teeth. I could only make choked muffled cries. I shook with fear, and tied vainly to get free. I was terrified. An innocent young boy like me, bound, gagged, in a gay man's basement, and not a stitch of clothing on, except a very small pair of sky blue briefs.

I felt very exposed. The fact that I had been stripped scared me. The ball gag terrified me. I had seen ball gags in pornos before, and I knew what it was from the feel in my mouth. But the knowledge gave me little comfort. What kind of man has ball gags lying around? And what else might he have? What else might happen to me?

My mind started racing. I thought about gay jokes, in the water polo locker room. My team mates laughing about predatory old men who drugged and tied up young boys. Phrases like "Forced to suck dick." and "Squealed like a pig." Appeared unbidden in my mind. It came to me then, that those jokes always seem to end badly for the young man caught. And in my current predicament, I wasn't laughing.

I imagined what it might feel like to have another mans penis in my mouth. Being forced, in real life, to lick his balls, choke on his cum... have him spread my cheeks, push his and hairy, dirty, dick up my...

Then I started thinking about a porno I'd seen recently, where a very pretty, petite, girl had been tied just like I was now. Her hands behind her back, her legs spread to the legs of a table. I remembered liking the video a lot. Running it back over and over, on the clips of her flashing pale legs, and her cute round bottom in her panties, as she struggled. I wanted to stand behind her, spank her nice butt, peel her little panties down, grab her hips, and...

Then it really came home to me. Now I was the little girl. Now it was my cute round bottom, in my little light blue panties, that was displayed so nicely. And if I didn't get out of these ropes, pretty soon a man would stand behind me, spank my nice butt, peel my little briefs down, grab my hips, and...

This thought made me panic. And I started thrashing back and forth from bent over the table, to standing. Struggling desperately to twist my wrists and ankles free. I started breathing hard, and I felt tiny drops of sweat rolling down my bare chest, back, and legs. My wrists hurt badly, and I realize my strains had only made my bonds tighter.

I leaned forward on my belly exhausted, face down, ass up on the table, whimpering. My ball gag bumped the table, straining my jaws even further. I felt frightened tears rolling down my cheeks, and drool from my gag running down my chin. Then suddenly my body went rigid with fear. I hear steps coming down the basement stairs.