Mark's Problem Pt. 01

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A strange way to learn about a need.
6k words
4.06
22.4k
8
1

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 11/01/2017
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mollycactus
mollycactus
2,239 Followers

Mark was so upset that he'd like to kick himself. Not that he could.

Why did he ever read that story about Houdini? That's how this all started.

Sure, he'd been careful. He'd done all that research on the internet, learning how such escapes can be done. Since he had a limited budget, he'd concentrated on things like handcuffs and shackles. He'd purchased a good set of ones made from steel, and started to practice.

At first, he just worked with the proper key to the cuffs, carefully freeing himself when his hands were cuffed in front of his body. Then came the trickier part of doing the same with his hands cuffed in the small of his back. It had to be done blindly, by feel and visualization.

The first few times, he couldn't do it. Luckily, he was flexible enough to lower his hands down past his ass, along his legs, and finally 'step through' so that the cuffs ended up in front again. But gradually he improved, until opening them with the key while his wrists were cuffed behind him became easy.

However, he didn't think freeing himself using the key was going to impress people very much. It would be difficult to secrete the key on his person, for one thing. And opening a lock with a key, well, that's the key's purpose. So Mark learned how to unlock handcuffs using only a paperclip. It turned out to be not very difficult, if you knew what you're doing. More practice, and again, he could free himself whether cuffed in front or behind. And the leg shackles ultimately yielded to a paperclip, also. He started to feel he might be ready to perform before a live audience.

But he needed a gimmick.

After much pondering, he got the brilliant idea of performing naked, for three reasons. First, he was proud of his body, and he didn't mind displaying it. He'd been naked before groups before, modeling for live figure drawing art classes. He wasn't muscle bound, by any stretch of the imagination. Cross-training had given him a defined musculature, and good endurance. The art classes appreciated the musculature, and he'd needed the endurance for holding poses for long periods of time. He especially liked it when the females in those classes smiled broadly at him as he displayed his torso, although they often seemed to focus their attention very low on that torso.

That led to his second reason for deciding to do his act in the nude. He planned to perform for bachelorette parties, women's clubs, etc. The thought of displaying his body for those appreciative women was exciting. Of course he'd have to undress before them, and perhaps have a couple of lovely audience members help him get shackled and cuffed. And they'd have to check him for a concealed key. He could imagine slim fingers entering his mouth, checking. And feminine hands parting his ass cheeks, searching him. Perhaps if they were feeling naughty, they'd lift his penis, and move his scrotum around, searching that area, with their perfume clouding the air around him in a heavenly fashion.

Sometimes that vision gave him a straining erection, with his dick streaming with precum. He imagined the female onlookers going wild, seeing that. Maybe they'd take advantage of his helplessness, and toy with him, and even make him ejaculate, while the rest cheered. Come to think of it, maybe this should be his third reason for being naked, now given him a total of four.

So, the fourth reason would be that, being naked, it would be obvious he wasn't concealing a handcuff key for his escape. Of course, no one would think to look for a tiny paper clip, hidden between his toes. Especially with the rest of his body to distract them. That was part of the trick - distraction.

So, dreaming of his well-received performances, and perhaps some lewd interactions with his appreciative onlookers, he'd practiced and practiced. And all went well - until today.

Today, he'd practiced walking into his bedroom clothed, and stripping down. Naked, carrying his cuffs and shackles, he walked around the room, as if showing them to the audience, and having the audience verify that they were strong steel devices, perfectly intact. He had to walk around naked to make sure that he could keep that paperclip between his toes, and not drop it while moving. So far, so good.

He had no one to help him with his shackles, so he had to do that himself. He decided it would be impressive to be shackled to something solid, so he passed their chain around his radiator pipe. This was safe, because it was seasonably warm, and the radiator wasn't generating any heat. He had no idea if he could secure himself to something as solid at the various venues - he'd have to look into that.

Next, he knelt down, which he felt would make him look even more vulnerable to the audience, given such a submissive display. This also allowed him to loop the handcuff chain through the shackle chain, securing his hands low behind his back. Of course, his real reason for kneeling was to get his fingers near the paperclip between his toes. During his act, he'd planned to have some volunteer hold up a small curtain, concealing his next actions from the crowd.

His heart always accelerated when he closed and locked the handcuffs at this point. In an act of showmanship, he even leaned forward and tossed the key from behind his back, making it arc far across the room. If he couldn't do that on stage, he'd ask an audience member to take it from his hands. Maybe he'd suggest that she secure the key inside her bra, getting her to promise that if he managed to get free, he had her permission to fish it out from inside there. If he was very fortunate, she'd place it low, beneath her breast, so his hand would have to work its way down over her nipple, searching for the key. It might be good for the act for him to pretend he was having trouble finding it, giving him enough time to fondle her until her eyes rolled back in their sockets from the pleasurable sensations. His cock always engorged whenever he imagined this scene.

The way he'd always visualized his stage performance, secured and shackled, he'd toss the key far from himself as the people watched, if he couldn't find a female to tuck it away. Imagining a curtain being pulled up to conceal him, he'd then go to work. He'd have to act like this was difficult, so he'd yank on his wrists and his ankles, making the chains jingle loudly. He could imagine the audience hearing this, focused, spellbound, wondering what he was doing. After a few minutes of making such noises, his fingers would easily find the paperclip, and with practiced ease, he'd shape it by touch. The first thing he had to do was spring the lock on one cuff. Then he could bring his wrists in front of himself, and open the second. After his hands were free, he could look over his shoulders and pick the locks on his ankles.

After that, he'd rise up from behind the curtain, triumphant, holding the handcuffs and shackles in his hands, displaying them to the audience. He planned to chat with his mostly or entirely female audience, remaining nonchalantly naked. Maybe some bolder women would touch him. Maybe they'd feel his manhood. He shivered with delight, each time he imagined that happening.

Lest he forget, he'd also have to retrieve his key from the bra of that willing participant. Letting his imagination run wild, he thought she might bare her breast after that, drawing his head forward to make him lick and suckle her nipple. "Why not go all out in this fantasy?" he thought. "Perhaps audience members would secretly pass me their phone numbers. My life could be amazing!"

That was the plan.

But on this fateful day of practice, things didn't go nearly as Mark had planned. Shackled to the radiator and cuffed, he'd tossed his key far across the room, as planned. He did his fake yanking and tugging on cuffs and shackles, making sufficient noise. He retrieved the paper clip, and shaped it. He started in on the lock of the cuff on his left wrist. To his dismay, there was a subtle 'snap' sensation - both in sound and vibration! His fingers blindly examined the paperclip. It had broken! It must've been faulty. And what remained of it was too short to be bent to the proper lock-picking shape! He was trapped!

The actual key was out of sight, past his bed, and way, way out of reach. The radiator pipes were very sturdy, and he had no idea what might occur if he managed to break them, anyway. Probably his room would be flooded. He got busy mentally, trying to think of something to do. His eyes darted around the nearby parts of the room, searching for anything that might help. Nothing. Not a thing nearby. He cursed himself for not having a spare paperclip nearby as a fail-safe. Swallowing hard, he tried to keep from panicking. He called for help several times, but no one was near enough to hear his voice escape from the insulated walls of his house.

A person cannot stay panicked forever. Hours passed, and Mark drifted into a light doze, leaning against the radiator. He was awakened by a sound, which his befuddled brain didn't process well enough. He licked his dry lips and waited. The sound occurred again - the sound of his doorbell. He tried calling for help, but his voice was weak from his earlier yelling, and his throat was dry.

Finally, he thought he heard a metallic sound. A key turning his front door lock. "Dude, it's me, Emil," Mark heard. "Are you OK? Your car is in the driveway, all your lights have been on all night and it's four in the morning." Emil! His friend from across the street! They each had a key to the other one's house, for plant watering or house watching when one was on vacation.

"Emil... I'm up here, in my bedroom," Mark rasped out. But his voice wasn't carrying very far. Desperately, Mark banged the edge of his handcuffs on the metal bar of the radiator, trying to catch Emil's attention. He was making enough noise that he couldn't hear Emil climbing his stairs to investigate. But a minute or two later, his bedroom door opened a smidgen, and Emil peered cautiously around its edge, wondering if there was trouble brewing.

As Mark came into view, Emil's eyebrows shot up so high that they disappeared into his hairline. "What the fuck is going on, dude?" Emil blurted out.

"Help me," Mark said, feebly. "I'm so thirsty."

Emil stepped closer. "Dude, you're naked!" he exclaimed.

"Tell me something I don't know!" Mark uttered, sarcastically. The moment he said it, he realized that wising off to a guy you were asking for help might not be the best plan. One clue was the look of anger that plastered itself on Emil's face. He tried to mitigate that anger by giving a disjointed explanation about becoming 'Naked Houdini' but it was too late.

"Look, man. I don't need any lip from you, OK?" Emil began. "I just spent the whole evening and most of the night with that cock teaser Louise. She loves getting guys like me all worked up, kissing them, touching them, and whispering suggestive things in their ears. Letting us get hard-ons like you wouldn't believe, and then leaving us like that and going home. Here I am, four am, my cock throbbing and my balls aching - and I see all your lights on. So, worried about you, I drag myself over here, scared that you might be having a home invasion or something, and you repay my concern with sassing me? I can't believe it."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Mark whispered contritely. "I wish I could do something to help you, Emil. Really I do. But you have to get these cuffs off me. The key is on the floor on the other side of the bed." He could tell that Emil was a little tipsy, probably from plying Louise with drinks, trying to get into her pants. So his friend was inebriated, in addition to being frustrated.

Mark was gratified to see his friend wander to the other side of the bed, and stoop down and retrieve the key. "Thank you, Emil. You can reach behind me and unlock these, or if you don't know how, just put the key in my hand."

Emil walked right up in front of Mark, and stopped, holding the key. With his judgment impaired at that moment, he stated, "You said you were thirsty, Mark. And you said you wished you could do something to help me - to help my aching balls after what Louise did. OK, you can." Instead of handing Mark the key, he unzipped the fly on his pants, reached inside and scooped his cock and balls out through the opening. His cock was very swollen, with distended veins on its surface and a slight bend to the left as it curved upward. His large balls shifted inside his bloated scrotum.

Mark looked up at him with an expression of disbelief. He'd known for a couple of years that Emil was bi, but his friend had never made any moves on him before. "You can't mean... you're not saying... this is crazy, man," Mark gasped, staring at the cock pointing at him. It was so close to his face he was almost cross-eyed, looking directly at it now. "I won't... I've never... I can't..." he babbled.

"No?" Emil said. "You don't want to suck me off? Hmmm. That's OK, I guess. I can leave you here until noon tomorrow, and we'll see if you've changed your tune." He started to pack his manhood back into his pants as he turned and started toward the bedroom door.

"Wait! No! Don't go!" Mark pleaded frantically. "You can't leave me like this! I might die!"

"Oh don't be so melodramatic, dude," Emil chided. "You can go at least 3 days without water, and 3 weeks without food. You got yourself into this mess." He took another step toward the door.

"No! Please! Please, Emil," Mark begged.

Emil looked at him, locking eyes. "Please what?"

Defeated, Mark whispered, "Please let me suck your cock."

Grinning, Emil stepped back in front of Mark, and presented his cock and balls a second time. "Open your mouth, and be careful with your teeth," he warned the chained, naked man.

Reluctantly, Mark opened his mouth, holding his breath, and cringing slightly. Moments later, his mouth touched a penis for the first time. He was both mortified and disgusted. The very thought of mouthing male genitalia was repugnant. But he dutifully closed his lips on the hunk of warm flesh, and applied a little suction.

Emil wasn't cruel. He didn't thrust his dick in and out of Mark's mouth. He just stood there, watching as Mark screwed up his face, tasting his dick. To be honest, he was curious about his friend's proclivities. He watched Mark's cheeks hollow slightly, and felt a gentle sucking action. It was quite pleasant, although Mark seemed to be carefully avoiding letting his tongue touch the penis at all.

Mark was surprised by two things. First of all, his girlfriend had once demanded that he wet her dildo with his mouth before inserting it inside her. It was OK, but the texture of this real cock was world's better. Since it was covered by skin it was kind of like having a large finger in his mouth, but with softer, smoother skin. Second, it didn't taste bad at all - Emil's groin had a pleasant, spicy scent that contributed to a gratifying scent/flavor.

He'd been holding his tongue out of the way for some reason, but those muscles were fatiguing, and he finally had to relax them, and Emil's cock ended up nestled on Mark's resting tongue. The taste was enhanced thereby, and still was agreeable. The repugnance that Mark had felt was only due to a mental fear of the unknown, he'd found. He sucked a little harder, as he let his tongue move along the underside of Emil's erection.

Emil gave off a pleased, happy sigh as he felt this occur. Still he refrained from thrusting. This was turning out to be an interesting experiment.

Mark's throat was parched from his day-long ordeal. Struggling with the restraints had made him lose a lot of fluids in his sweat. He'd even begged Emil to get him a drink, even before asking his friend to retrieve the key. Therefore, when the first trickles of precum began to emerge from Emil's dick, Mark's tongue gleefully reported the presence of fluid, and his throat demanded that he swallow. He did. To his surprise, the precum only tasted like a slightly salty fluid of a thin, watery consistency.

With the possibility of having his thirst at least partially quenched, Mark began sucking in earnest. He tightened his lips on the cock shaft, increased his suction, and began swiping the emerging fluid off the head of Emil's cock with even more tongue contact.

Emil felt the change in Mark's actions, and groaned happily. Louise's cock teasing had indeed brought him near the brink, several times, and Mark's mouth was beginning to work magic on his tortured rod. Normally, if a new partner was doing this to him, he'd give ample warning when he was about to cum, to give them the opportunity to pull their mouth away in time, in case they abhorred semen. But now Mark was sucking so lustily that Emil, primed by Louise, was driven to the point of no return faster than he could ever remember.

His grunts of delight could hardly constitute a warning, since they were simultaneous with the first massive spurt of ejaculate from his cock. The hollow of Mark's mouth was immediately filled with that surge of semen, so much so that his cheeks bulged and his eyes flew wide open! But because he was sucking, he had to swallow, lest he choke. To be honest, Mark had tasted semen before - his own - when a girlfriend had sucked a mouthful from his dick, and preformed 'snowballing' with him - kissing him with open lips and letting his semen drizzle into his mouth.

Emil's semen tasted a little different from his own, because Mark wasn't getting it second hand from a woman's mouth... he was getting it fresh from the source! It was thicker than the precum, and its syrup-like consistency coated his parched throat wonderfully. His growling stomach accepted it as food, and even demanded more. So Mark didn't pull his mouth away from Emil's dick after that first spurt. He sucked even harder, swallowing fast, and even started bobbing his head forward and back, trying to aid the discharge of that lovely fluid with a pumping action.

Emil thought he was in heaven! Mark was better than any cocksucker he'd experienced to this point in his life. Even as his body was shaking in ecstasy, Emil's hand automatically went to his cell phone, and, almost of its own volition, took several photos of Mark, naked and sucking - no - dining - on his dick. Mark's eyes were closed in relief as his thirst began to abate, so he didn't notice what Emil was doing.

For his part, Mark was subconsciously amazed that he was enjoying what he was doing. The semen gushing into his mouth was tangy, and slightly bitter, but certainly not off-putting. The intensified scent was actually intriguing now. And the cock gripped by his lips felt so alive as it twitched and spewed, delivering Emil's pent-up load. His ears heard Emil's articulations of relief as he finally achieved the climax denied by Louise.

"Ohhh fuck!" Emil cried out. "That feels so amazing! Yes! Yes! Take it all! Guzzle it down!" He took a shuddering breath. "Oh my god! Here's more!" His body shook as another spasm rose from his balls, passed through his lower body, and shot forward the length of his dick. "Yes! Yes! Do that with your tongue again!" And after a brief pause, "Oh shit! Shit! You've got me cumming so hard!" The rest of his sounds were nonsense... garbled words... but they were tinged with appreciation and relief.

Mark was almost disappointed when Emil's spurts ceased. His mind was awhirl, starting to process what had just occurred. "Am I bi, also?" was the chief thing Mark was asking himself. "I love women, and I have a girlfriend, and that relationship seems like it could get serious. Never in a million years would I plop down on my knees in front of a guy and ask to suck his dick - I know that. At least I thought I knew that. Now, I'm not so sure." If he'd been paying more attention to his body, he might've had a clue. His own cock had gotten turgid as he'd sucked Emil's.

mollycactus
mollycactus
2,239 Followers
12