Straight to Hell - Chapter 2

“Mario! Hey Mario! You ready to go, bud?”

Mario was standing up yelling at a dancer. He was swaying and kept holding on to his chair to keep from falling. Oh yeahhhhhhhhhhh . . . my heterosexual fish was baited, hooked, and ready to be reeled in. I yelled at him again.

“MARIO!”

Mario drunkenly lurched around, grinning like an idiot, and said “Yeahhhh . . .”

“I said are you ready to go.”

“Ma-annn . . . I mmmmm gon-naaaa . . . fuk dat . . . mmmmmm, hoooo . . .”

I grabbed Mario’s arm and pulled him towards me.

“C’mon, you’re wasted Mario. I’m gonna take you home.”

“Fuckkkkkkk datttt, maaaaan . . .”

Yes, ole homeboy was seriously flying. I pulled him with me and he stumbled right along like a kid, muttering and hiccupping. When I put him in the car, he started thrashing around a little, trying to get out. I pushed him back hard, buckled the seat belt and pulled it tight against him. Mario kept trying to move but couldn’t coordinate his movements. I drove off and headed towards my house.

“Mario . . . just sit back and relax, man. You’re totally drunk.”

Mario kept muttering something but I couldn’t understand him. After a couple of minutes, his movements got weaker and finally stopped. When I looked over, Mario was passed out. Smiling, I drove a little faster towards my house.

***

Ordinarily I don’t take my straight victims to my house. Especially those that know me. In this case, Mario even worked at my company and it wasn’t too smart to give him any ammunition to use if he tried to make problems for me later. But ole Mario was so fucked up, I knew he wouldn’t remember much about tonight. Plus, I had a little insurance policy I would use to keep his lips sealed.

Mario was starting to snore as I pulled into my garage. Getting out of the car, I went over to the passenger side and opened the door. Mario was sleeping like a baby, hands by his side, legs spread, head turned on the car seat. Looking down at his crotch, I couldn’t resist giving his cock a squeeze. It wasn’t hard like it had been at Artista but it was definitely big! I started massaging his cock but pulled back and stopped. Fool, get him inside! Then . . . THEN . . . you can have all the fun you want.

As I pulled Mario from the car, I thought he’d wake up but nope. He was one fucking heavy muscle boy! I pulled his arm around my neck, put my arm around his chest and pulled him towards the house. My hand wandered up under his tee and I could feel his big hairy peck. Fuck, it felt good! As I squeezed his muscular pec, I caught his full nipple between my fingers and started to stroke it. Shit, my cock went from hard to harder to hardest in 3 seconds flat!

Inside the house, I took Mario to my bedroom and laid him on the bed. He was still out of it but was trembling every now and then. I was ready to see his hunky little body in all its glory, but first things first.

I walked over to my closet and went inside. A second door opened to the right. Inside, the lights of my digital recording system winked and stood ready to film the rape of another straight, muscular stud. I had spent over $12,000 on this system, with cameras installed all over the house. The system could record on videotape, DVD, and even to a digital chip for video streaming.

It also provided excellent editing tools so I could mask faces, remove scenes, and even manipulate audio. It was a gay man’s dream for keeping alive memories of his sexual encounters. At least, it was good for memories of this gay boy’s sexual encounters with his straight men! I adjusted the settings, making sure I got maximum lighting and exposure. Mario didn’t know it but he was about to become a porn star!

When I walked back in the bedroom, Mario was starting to move slightly on the bed. The room was still pretty light but I turned down the lights slightly so that Mario wouldn’t recognize his surroundings. I walked back over and stood over him as he lay on the bed.

God he was fucking gorgeous! As Mario began to wake from his drunken haze, my eyes caressed his full lips surrounded by that sexy goatee. They moved down to see the twin mounds of chest muscle pulled tight against his flimsy t-shirt, the nipples poking out. I leaned down and bit his right nipple through the material, savoring the feel of it in my mouth.

As I chewed on his nipple, I reached down and ran my hand back and forth over his flat, hard stomach, feeling the hairy trail that led down into his pants. Mario’s movements became stronger as if he was trying to figure out who was fondling him. As my lust consumed me, I reached down to the edge of his shirt and began pulling the material in opposite directions. A ripping sound filled the room as Mario’s shirt opened up revealing his hairy Italian chest, muscular pecs, and meaty nipples. I ripped the collar in two and pulled the shirt from Mario’s body.

Oh yeah. Yeahhhhhhhhhh. Shit. Here was prime grade A man meat! I straddled Mario’s body and sat my ass down on his crotch, feeling his big cock push against my butt. Mario began struggling slightly as I sat on him and I knew I’d have to get him under control quick. Finding his ruined t-shirt, I quickly ripped it into four strips and grabbed his right wrist. I tied the end of one strip around that wrist and then did the same for his other one. Before he knew what was happening, I leaned over and tied the other end of the two strips to the opposite ends of the headboard, pulling his arms backwards. Mario continued to struggle slightly but he was still so far out of it, his struggles were too weak to do anything.

As Mario continued to thrash about, I got up and moved quickly to the end of the bed. Mario still had on his sweat pants, shoes, and socks and I practically pulled off his socks and shoes in one fell swoop. As he felt his shoes come off, Mario started to move about even more and I was afraid he’d get too wild if I tried to get his sweats off. So I took the last two strips of his torn t-shirt and tied his ankles to the end of the bed frame. Mario struggled the entire time but eventually his legs were tied tight to the bed and his struggles looked more like a fish flopping around out of the water.

“Whaaaaassssss . . . mmmmmmmmmmm . . . whaaaaaaaaaaassssss go’in . . . onnnnn . . .”

Ahhhhhhhhhh. My little Italian maintenance man was coming around. I didn’t say anything for a minute but watched him carefully to see what he’d do.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkk, Mario thought. His mind was thick and sluggish and he couldn’t figure out where he was. The room was fairly dark but he thought he could make out a figure standing at the end of the bed. Mario tried to move his arms down to his sides, but he couldn’t move them.

“Welcome back, Mario.”

A voice. A distant voice. Mario thought he recognized the voice but his thoughts were so clouded, he wasn’t sure he was even thinking straight.

“Wh . . . whooo . . . whooooo . . . whooo uuuuuu . . .”

“Don’t worry about it, Mario. All you need to do is lay back and relax.”

Mario tried to get up but his arms and legs wouldn’t cooperate. He struggled some more as he began to realize they were tied up. He heard the man’s distant voice speak to him again.

“Mario, just lay back and relax. You’re gonna enjoy this.”

Mario shook his head, trying to put his surroundings into focus. Enjoy this? What was he talking about? Enjoy what? Suddenly Mario felt a hand move over his chest and begin to pinch his nipples slightly. God, he thought, as his head lolled back and forth. What was happening?

“Fuck baby, you feel soooooooo good. I can’t wait to get to the rest of you.”

The rest of you? Even in his drunken state, Mario began to understand the meaning of the hands moving more over his chest and stomach. The meaning of the hands fondling his pecs and nipples. The meaning of the MAN’S hands that seemed to be roaming all over his body.

Shit, he thought. Fuck. Oh no. Nooooo. Nooooooooooooooo.

As the hands wandered over his body and the touch became more sexual, Mario’s mind began to feel the horror he’d always feared about another man being attracted to him. Mario knew several gay guys and he had no problem with them. He was flattered that they admired his swarthy Italian good looks and chiseled body. But deep in his mind, he was always scared that one day they would want to do more than look at him. Mario knew he could defend himself if they tried something other than looking but the thought of another man even TOUCHING him was too much for words. Now the moment he’d always feared seemed to be coming true as the strange man began stroking his chest and running his hands through his hair. Mario began shaking his head.

“Noooooooo . . . mmmmmmmmmm, noooooo . . . stttoooopppppp . . .”

“Now Mario, I told you. Just relax! You’ll enjoy this.”

“Wh . . . whe . . . wherrreeee . . . uuhhhhhh . . . “

“Shuuuuushhh! Don’t talk! Be quiet now, baby. Let me enjoy this.”

“NOO . . . NOOOOOOOOOOO . . . STTTOOOPPPPPP . . .”

Damn, Mario felt gooooooooodddddd! Running my fingers through the thick hair on his chest and stomach was such a turn on! Especially when I worked my hands towards his pecs and they went up those delicious mounds of muscle! Evidently Mario was beginning to figure out what was happening as he started muttering and trying to talk to me. I wasn’t sure if he knew who it was yet, but I didn’t care. He was MINE now and I was going to enjoy every minute of his muscular body!

As great as his chest felt, I knew that I was very interested in his lower region as well. But those fucking sweat pants were in the way! What to do, what to do. An evil thought crept into my mind and I smiled when I thought about it. Grinning evilly, I walked to the kitchen, got out my sharpest carving knife, and brought it back to the room. I stood in the doorway a minute to let my eyes adjust to the room. All of a sudden, I heard Mario start to squeal.