Paul and Rick agreed not to say a word as the drugs wore off and their captive slowly began to wake up. So now Connor was strapped down on his hands and knees, his weight supported by the frame that he was bent over, unable to see a thing but able to hear everything. Paul was relieved they had caught a straight one, although he knew the statistical likelihood of accidentally grabbing another gay guy was reasonably low. Connor didn't look like the kind of boy who did casual relationships. Recent text messages on his phone indicated he had a girlfriend, although there was no way of telling whether it was a serious long-term relationship or something more casual. Going through his wallet and his phone Paul discovered that their ‘test subject’ was a twenty-year-old student called Connor. Paul and Rick learned a little about their victim from the personal belongings he was carrying, which Paul examined while sitting next to the slumped, unconscious body in the back of the car. If nothing else, Paul thought, this would certainly be an eye-opening experience for the poor guy. The kind of guy who would never think of himself as a sexual object. Not a heartthrob by any means, but reasonably athletic with a boyish face. He was just an unfortunate young man who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and attractive enough to catch Paul's eye. Some strands of his hair, which was medium-length and covered his ears, had fallen over one half of the blindfold. He was blindfolded and hadn't seen anything since the moment they had shoved a bag over his head and stuck the needle in him as he walked along the quiet little path beside the canal. In front of him, another fucking machine with a larger dildo to stuff his throat, aimed menacingly at his lips – but he couldn't see a thing. Behind him, one fucking machine with a medium-sized dildo poised ready and pointing at his trembling buttocks. His legs spread slightly apart and his ankles strapped down to the sturdy wooden platform. There, on a raised platform in the middle of the cellar, the naked body strapped tightly to a metal frame which held him in position on all-fours. Remorseless machines capable of fucking him at a constant pace, with no break or fatigue, for hours on end.Īnd now the plan had finally come to fruition. They would cum inside him, they would tire themselves out no, it had to be machines. And it had to be machines it would be futile having two men fuck him.
A gay guy might be able to take it, enjoy it at least to a certain point, but what effect would it have on a straight guy? Would he succumb, become aroused? Would the incessant probing of his virgin hole eventually make him cum? If so, would he cum multiple times? And just how would his body hold up to such a non-stop raping? Paul had long considered all the possibilities, played them out in his perverted imagination, but he needed to test his idea on a live subject to really see the results. The objective of Paul's depraved experiment? He was simply insatiably curious as to how an unwilling, heterosexual male would cope – psychologically and physically – with such a relentless sexual onslaught. How long exactly? Neither Paul nor Rick could decide, but in the end they agreed to leave their victim to be perpetually ‘spit-roasted’ overnight and decide in the morning whether to let the experiment continue or not. A sort-of ‘sexual experiment’, if you like: kidnap a random straight guy, secure him in place between two fucking machines, front and rear, and leave him to be orally and anally violated by two large dildos mounted on the machines, without respite, for as long as possible. Of course, he couldn't have pulled it off without Rick's help, though it was Paul's idea in the first place.