Runaway Gets Enslaved and Raped

[rawTOP]

Stepping off the bus at Port Authority at one in the morning, the scared young runaway never felt so alone in his young life. It was the first time away from home. The city garishly lit up looked so different than the green quiet suburbs left behind. Needing a place to crash, nervously he calls Marc's friend Big John but there is no answer.

Within minutes the gritty reality of city life envelopes. Walking down 42nd Street, the dealers and the whores approach but he has neither the interest nor the money to buy anything they are selling. Feeling so afraid and unsure, golly would he love to take the next bus back home but he can't. Gosh, what a nightmare.

He did not look like the type of kid you would expect to see walking the city's streets. Pretty, almost too pretty, with brownish hair parted in the center, and small at 5 feet tall and only a hundred pounds.

Finding an Sbarro's Italian restaurant, Curt orders a slice and a Mountain Dew. Paying for the food, his wallet is left absent mindly left on the tray. Needing privacy he heads toward the back. After finding a suitable table he sits and munches on the slice. Curt feels the piercing stare from an old creepy geezer sitting just a couple tables away. Suddenly Curt realizes the guy is playing with himself. Grossed out Curt grabs his bags and moves to another section, foolishly leaving his wallet behind. By the time he realizes it is too late, two Spanish kids snatch the wallet and run out into the night. He is pissed off. Inside his wallet was Big John's phone number. Now he will never be able to contact him. With no money and no place to sleep the fuming boy, grabs his bag and walks into the night leaving the slice behind.

With each step up and down Broadway, 7th and 8th Avenue, 42nd and 43rd Streets, the boy puts even more miles between him and that comfortable home he left behind. Young, the boy must fend for himself. His roots are burned completely behind him.

More whores and dealers approach him. Occasionally a pimp tries to entice him. And dirty old men keep trying to talk to him. It angers him that everybody is approaching him while he wants to be left alone. Tired he needs a place to shower and sleep, a place to think over his next move.

Outside a dive bar, an older smiling Pakistani male says hello. Curt worn out from walking, figures that maybe this man can help him. They talk for a few minutes.

The man asks, "Why are out alone on the streets. It is very dangerous for a very pretty boy like you."

Curt admits, "I am a runaway, my stepfather was abusing me so I came up to NYC to find a friend of a friend. Hey man, can you help me out a little. I haven't had anything to eat all day except part of a slice of pizza."

"I am so sorry I am flat broke but I have a friend who pays good money for good-looking models like you."

Knowing already the answer Curt still asks, "What kind of modeling?"

"Nude of course, but there will be no kinky stuff. All you have to do is masturbate as you are photographed."

Curt reluctantly agrees, even though he already posed nude for Marc he hates the idea of being photographed naked. With no other options he agrees and walks several blocks with the man to a spice store. Once inside they walk to a back room where two other Pakistanis greet him. After some swift negotiating they strike an agreement. Curt will get sixty dollars for letting them take pictures of him masturbating.

The three men take Curt to a dreary wood panel room, telling him to strip. As he does, the cameras start photographing. He is then told to lie on his back on a long wooden table and start jerking off. As he starts stroking, he hears the sound of the men dropping their pants. Alarmed he tells the guys that he hadn't agreed to have any sex with them. They assure him that they don't plan to but they were going to masturbate as they watch and photograph. Relieved, Curt as he strokes his dick, closes his eyes and thinks of loving Marc. In a few minutes he shoots a decent load on his tummy. As he finishes cumming, someone shoots their load over his mouth, nose and eyes. Jolted Curt tries to sit up, but the men hold him down and make him watch as they masturbate. Finally the second man's cock pops a load all over Curt's chest. Rubbing the cum into the boy's body the third man also shoots his load on Curt's face. Still they won't let him up until the first man gets off a second shot With their cameras flashing, the man again shoots, this time landing on Curt's legs and feet.

Finally let go, one of them hands Curt a wet towel to wipe their spooge off. After rubbing as hard as he can to get the vile crap off, Curt dresses. Ready to go, he asks for his pay. One of them hand him a ten-dollar bill and orders him out. Curt angrily demands the remaining fifty. the first guy pulls out a gun and says, "Go now."

Feeling he was used and betrayed he quietly leaves, holding back his frustration. Now back on the street he walks for a while, finally stopping at a subway shop for a desperately needed meal.

With no other apparent options, nervously the boy ventures down an alleyway looking for a suitable cardboard box for catching a few Zs. After selecting one, he huddles inside a cardboard box for some well-deserved sleep using his bag as a pillow. About an hour later a commotion awakens him. Peering out of the box, he sees a well-dressed businessman surrounded by a gang of Puerto Rican thugs. The man is drunk and refuses to turn over his wallet. Angrily he pushes one of the thugs asides and tries to escape. Curt screams as the knife stabs the man. As the man falls mortally wounded, the thugs realize Curt is a witness and run towards him. Seeing the danger, he quickly runs out of the alley. Luckily the boy's scream brings an inquisitive squad car down the alley. The thugs take off in the other direction. As the screaming flashing lights pour into the alley, Curt quickly blends into the night. He decides not to go back for his bag, knowing if he did the cops will question him and then place him in a detention center.

Fearing that the thugs are probably still looking for him, he decides to accept whatever is the next opportunity. He can't be caught by the cops and certainly not by the thugs.

By now his wandering brings him to the water fountains in front of Rockefeller Center. The boy sits down on the cool marble wall; while an occasional wind drifted mist of water gently plays with him. Finally the horror of it overtakes him. He begins to cry. Why did his stepfather have to catch him making out with Marc? Why did they have to steal his wallet? Why did he have to leave his bag and why did he have to witness a murder? How is he ever going to hide from those thugs?

He barely feels the presence of another person sitting nest to him.

Finally a gentle voice says, "Hi, you will be all right. Things will work out. Please stop crying."

Through his teary eyes, he looks and sees a handsome blonde haired boy no more than a few years older.

Curt says, "Man, you don't know half the shit I am in. I am really fucked."

The blonde introduces himself "I am Jon, I ran away too. It seems real scary at first and everybody rips you off but eventually you get on top. So why did you leave at home. You don't look like a druggie."

"Hi, I am Curt. No, I am not a druggie. I never did anything more than a little weed. I just got in a fight with my step dad and he was going to send me a military school. I bolted instead."

"That happened to me too. My step-dad found out I was queer and I fled into the night. Now I am a rent boy, serving fat ugly Johns who luckily pay me lots of money for the chance to suck or fuck me. So are you gay too?

Curt admits he is queer. For the next hour the two boys talk about everything. Curt reveals his life in depth even talking about Marc. Finally Jon asks Curt if he wants to crash at a safe place. He promises no sex, just sleep. A weary Curt readily agrees.

Lost in the big Apple, Curt has no idea where they are headed. But when they walk down cobbled streets and deserted piers and warehouses, he feels uncomfortable.

At a small building, almost crunched in between two larger ones, they pause at a faded blue door. A series of sequenced knocks opens the door. Greeting them is Luther, an aged hippie biker, in leather chaps and smoking a cigar. He signals for Curt to come on in. As the biker bolts the door behind, Curt realizes Jon never entered. Knowing he was just betrayed, Curt tries to push his way out but the beefy biker grabs him in a bear hug, carrying the screaming boy down a flight of steps then throws him into a room.

"Hey kid, calm down, nobody ain't gonna hurt you - yet. Trust me." He laughs.

The biker slams the black steel door locking Curt in. Looking around, poor Curt is horrified. The windowless basement room is filthy. The floor's black and white tiles are littered with old newspapers, McDonald cups and boxes. The only furniture is a steel framed bed, with a yellowed mattress. Off to the side is a cubbyhole of a bathroom, the stench of old piss and vomit is over powering. Only the toilet works.

Then the light is turned off, with the room black Curt sobs himself to sleep.

Countless hours later he is woken by a group of three men. Two are muscular white guys in their late twenties, one is bald, and the other wears his blonde hair real short. The third is a black male in his late thirties looks a weight lifter. The guys are dressed real kinky in leathers pants and chest harnesses. Their outfits are adorned with chains.

"Hey kid, come with us." The bald guy demands.

Curt, barely awake screams, "Fuck no. Now let me out of here."

His insolence earns him three powerful slaps right across the face by the bald guy.

The black guy yanks him up by the arm and leads him out of the room. The two other guys walk behind as if they were guards. Up two flights of steps, as they pause outside a thick white wooden door, Curt is just moments from Hell.

The black guy shouts "Are you guys ready for us?"

"In about two minutes, we will let you know when it is all set up. You might as well put your masks on."

Curt can't make sense out of what is about to happen. He can't understand why they are wearing masks. Panicking, he fears he is about to be murdered. Sobbing he begs the guys to let him go, to let him live. They say nothing because they want the boy scared as all can be. Terror sells. Frightened Curt promises me to do anything they want if only they let him escape.

Instead the door is suddenly opened and they are bathed in an intense stream of light from several photographers' lamps. Curt looks into the room. It appears to be some sort of theater designed for a ritual or sacrifice. In the center of the room is a wooden platform topped with a blue foam gym mat. A series of rings are bolted to the two sides. Lying on the floor to one side of the platform is ropes, whips, various dildoes and leather stuff unfamiliar to Curt. On the other side of the platform he sees a nude boy and girl, gagged and bound at their hands and feet. Dried blood appears caked around their genitals. Their bodies are littered with harsh red marks as if they had been whipped. Both kids are crying.

The back of the room is sloped towards the platform. It is set up much like a movie theater, complete with cushioned seats. Sitting in these seats is a cheering group of hundred or so older guys wearing tuxedos. Bolted on the ceilings he spots three remote control cameras, the cameraman is sitting at the monitors off to the side.

As the guys push him in, he fights back, swinging arms and flailing legs. But the strength of the men is too much and the struggling boy is quickly pushed to the center of the room. For the next ten minutes the guys delight in a game of catch the boy, tossing him from one man to the next. And in the process each winner gets to pull a garment off. Horrified and hurting, Curt is embarrassed being striped in front of an audience. He tries to cover his genitals from the cameras' lecherous eyes.

Then the guys drag him onto the platform, throwing him on his belly. The muscular black sits on the boy's back, while the others tie him to the rings. They grab Curt's left foot, then the right foot and tie them down. Curt flails his arms so wildly and they aren't able to catch them. Pissed the black guys punches Curt in the small of his back. For minutes the pain is so intense, Curt can't move or say anything. The cameras tape Curt's torment and shrieks.

With the boy quieting down, the men strip off some of their leather gear and grab some whips. Absorbed in his pain and humiliation Curt does not notice that the men are now standing behind him. Suddenly he hears the whoosh sound as the whip cruelly lands on his ass. Then again and again it strikes. Some strike his legs, arms and back. The crowd goes electric. Curt struggles and screams from the intense agony. Eventually they let the crying boy calm down.

Then the black biker strips off his remaining gear, exposing his rock hard cock, far larger than anything Curt has ever seen in the showers at school. Ordering the boy to suck and not bite, he forces his cock in Curt's mouth. Fearing more whippings, Curt tries his hardest to accommodate but the dick is too large. Frustrated the black guy pulls his dick out and masturbates onto the boy's face, shooting juices over the kid's eyes, hair, and lips. The crowd cheers.

Next, the blonde biker shoves his dick in Curt's mouth. It is smaller and a frightened Curt sucks it like a newborn with a tit. Quickly the biker screams "I am cumming" and then a load of cum fills his throat. As Curt tries to spit the juices out of his mouth, the crowd laughs.

The third biker, from the rear spreads the boy's cheeks his cheeks and fingers his nether region, Curt realizes he is about to be fucked like a whore bitch. With each finger going in and out of his tight butt, Curt begs him to stop. The man laughs and continues to jab. He announces to the crowd that the boy is too tight and he must use a tiny dab of Vaseline. They groan.

Curt braces himself for what he knows is going to be hellish. He ignores the man's suggestion to relax. Instead he angrily clenches his cheeks together as the man lies on top of him. He feels the guy's cockhead trying to enter his hole but he resists with all his might. Without warning, with lit cigars the two other guys burn the soles of his feet. That moment's distraction is enough so Curt involuntarily loosens up and the biker's cockhead is just able to slip in a little bit. Time and time again the men singe his soles, making Curt loosen up allowing the intruding cockhead to slowly slide into his rectum. Curt is shaken from the pain and humiliation. His ass is on fire. It feels like it is about to burst. Vainly the boy tries to escape but he is too tightly bounded to the rings. Finally the man announces he is all the way in. The crowd wonders was the boy a virgin. Proudly the man withdraws his cock, claiming the blood covering it is proof. Thinking the guy is done, Curt is relieved to have the cock out.

But the man lies on top of him again. And ignores the terrified boy's resistance as he again enters the tight rectum. As the man pushes all the way in, the boy fears he is going to be crushed. With his dick firmly impaled deep inside the boy, the man's tongue ravishes the innocent boy's face, neck and armpits. For at least twenty minutes the man roughly fucks the boy to an almost climax then he pauses and begins to roughly fuck him again. His fingers explore the crying boy everywhere. Through this degradation Curt realizes tonight to this crowd he is nothing anymore but a fuckhole, nothing more than a cum rag.

The crowd is going wild. This fuck spectacle is fantastic. To them, Curt's humiliation was so excitedly beautiful. The look on his face, moaning and tears pouring as the man rode him was well worth the fee. Somebody started passing around jars. Many of the men excited by this spectacle fill it a bit with their precious male juices.

Finally the fuck sensations overtake and the man shoots a giant load all the way up Curt's butt. As he screamed out, the crowd went nuts. Curt is terrified from the feeling of the throbbing prick filling his ass. Finally the man withdraws from the cum drenched hole.

Hoping that his agony is over Curt wants to be released from his bounds. Instead the black man lies on top of him and starts to fuck him. Curt's hole resists even blocks harder for this man's battering ram. It takes another series of cigar singes to get Curt to loosen up.

Finally in, the man cries out "I am all the way in! Oh baby this bitch feels so good."

Then the man humps the boy for fifteen minutes. By now Curt is reduced to tears as the man aggressively humps the boy. Finally the man climaxes a wild load. Curt again feels the spooge soaking all over his insides. To the cheering crowd the man invites the audience to inspect the boy's battered hole.

After the crowd examines him, the blonde biker lies next to the boy. Lovingly the man explores the boy's body, his tongue gently bathing the boy. His fingers snake under the boy and massage his dick. A few strokes and Curt can't control himself. He screams as his cock flushes clean the boy semen from inside his balls. The man whispers in his ears, "You are so beautiful, I fucking love torturing you."

Next the man's dives his face and tongue into the boy's. Kissing like French lovers, strangely the boy starts to enjoy this man. As they kiss, the man snakes his arms to the boy's ass and dick. With one hand, slowly his fingers play with the boy's ravaged hole. With the other hand he brings the kid's cock to life again. With another few stroke the boy cums again.

Then the man slowly mounts Curt. Gently he enters and slowly his cock slips down. With a gentle steady pace, the man rides the boy. Curt shudders as this man screws him. With a scream the man shoots his load deep within. For a few more minutes he embraces and tongues the boy. Satisfied that he has broken the boy's spirit he slides off to the cheering crowd.

Relieved, the boy is untied. So broken is he, when handed the jarful of cum, he opens his mouth wide as the MC pours in a mouthful and swallows it as told. Curt now lives to be shamed.

The blonde biker whispers, "You did well, you did exactly as they want, you won't be whipped anymore tonight I promise you. In an hour or so you can return to your room. They just want to look at you and play at little more. Just keep calm, the worse is over."

Startled, Curt asks, "Will they murder me, please I don't want to die."

"No, you are safe, I will protect you."

Curt is ordered to lie on his back, and then the other tormented boy is also forced to lie on his back next to Curt. Then the girl is forced to lie on the other side of Curt. The arms of all three kids are bound to rings.

One of the tuxedoed men dons a gold mask and speaks into the microphone. "For our closed circuit viewers, in a few minutes the festivities will be ending. We hoped you enjoyed tonight's triple feature including the deflowering of two boys. And most of you saw pretty Carla's deflowering last night. We ask you back tomorrow night to watch another night of The Fort's Theater Productions. On this star-studded weekend, we promise another triple feature show with at least one fresh young virgin deflowered. I promise you tomorrow's will be a dog of a show."

Hearing those words, the crowd breaks out in a knowing laughter.

As the photographer's lights shut down, the crowd gets up from their seats and the masks are all shucked. Like in a Fellini movie, four young teen boys nude except for studded leather dog collars roll in carts full of buffet food and champagne bottles. For the next hour or so, Curt and the two other remain bound to the platform as nothing more than a centerpiece for this party celebrating their rapes. Countless hands and fingers explore the kid's bodies. Too often a guest whips out his tool and shoots a load onto the kid's face or bodies. The three kids are a mess, covered with countless shots of jism from the hundred guests.

Eventually the party breaks up, and Curt is brought back to his room. Humiliated, degraded and angry Curt screams his frustrations. Covered in his ravisher's dry cum he falls to sleep. He is nothing more than a cum rag that cries. During the night, he dreams of the blonde biker who said I love you and then disappeared. And twice his lust betrays himself in the form of wet dreams. He won't admit it but he rather liked his abuse.

Curt now locked in that darkened room slept for many hours, trying to heal his body agonized from the torture and abuse. In his dreams, he is again with Marc, tenderly making love.

They left him on dirty mattress wearing just tattered underwear. His sticky body stinks of stale cum and piss. Only a greasy pillow and a thick itchy blanket offer comfort. The concrete walls and floor make the room a prison of solitary confinement, a dungeon.

After many hours, he finally awakens, and then tries to move but the pain is too formidable. There is too much body hurt from the whips, the burns and the repeated rapes. From lying still so long, his muscles stiffened, making it harder to move without torment. But eventually he must urinate. Slowly he slides to the mattress's edge and pisses at the floor. He wishes he had the strength to wash off all the dried spooge and piss. Worn out from the exertion, he continues to drift in and out of sleep.

Eventually Curt can no longer sleep. His body feels better as if someone rubbed a healing salve over the wounds. And in the air is a hint of a medicine. Curious Curt wonders who tended him. Perhaps it could have been Jon or the blonde biker? Perplexed but grateful, he struggles to sit up. At first he can't find the coordination. His muscles ache from inactivity. Over the next hours he pulls himself upright, wincing at the pain from lying still for days.

It is time to face facts. If escape were possible from this hellhole, where could he run? Since his wallet is lost, there is no way he can find Marc's friend. Going back home is not an option, not with his step dad planning to send him to a military camp "to cure those fag feelings." Nor are the streets of New York City an option. Either those thugs would find him or he would end up in the clutches of some other perverts. He already knows he is easy prey for pimps.

He contemplates the words of the mysterious blonde biker: "You did well, you did exactly as they want, and you won't be whipped anymore tonight I promise. You are safe, I will protect you." But was the protection just for the night or from all future harm? Tears rolls as the boy, hungry, thirsty and frightened he tries to survive in that darkened cell.

Copyright 2002 by Kevin17.

[waffles7]

Is there a sequel if there is I want link please!?

[MelbChemboi]

 Bump

[colletonguy72]

Great, great story