**Chapter II**
We made good time getting home, despite the car accident and traffic jam that forced us to wait for almost thirty minutes. But I didn’t mind. Idle time meant busy hands, and boy, were our hands busy. We pretty much fondled each other all the way home; his hand in my pants and mine in his. Tinted windows hid so many things, just like dark shadows and I could never get enough of John’s rough hands on my skin. I would drink that sensation every time it became available.
We pulled into the garage around 5:00 pm and with a single press of a button, the large doors closed behind us. The garage was triple wide, though the BMW and Spider ate up the other two spots. And don’t get me started on the attached two-story house that was pretty much a mansion nestled in the woods, at the end of a long, private driveway. It was insanely beautiful and spacious. The perfect place to feed, store hosts, and grow.
“You hungry?” said John.
“Always!” I responded.
We walked inside via the adjacent doorway, and I planted myself down on one of the kitchen chairs.
“What do you want to eat?” said John as he rifled through the fridge.
“I dunno,” I said. “Anything with meat. I’m starving.”
“OK. How about I make those steaks then. They’ve been marinating several days and should be ready to go?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
He took out two gleaming plastic bags and set them on the counter, but the moment those thick cuts emerged from the brown liquids they’d been swimming in, my stomach growled. It was a hunger pang I hadn’t experienced before. It felt so powerful. So overwhelming. Just the sight of raw meat excited my senses and made me want to bite right into it.
“I know you’re hungry, but you’ll have to wait,” said John, as he searched for his favorite iron skillet.
What was this feeling? It said I needed to feed, but on more than just cum. I needed to eat. Consume. Devour. I needed raw meat. And blood. Lots of blood.
“Take off your clothes,” I said.
He set the skillet he’d been looking for down on the stove, slipped off his shoes, and stripped himself bare. Then after laying his clothes on a nearby hutch, he continued on with the preparations, thinking nothing of it.
This was the first time I had been able to freely admire his body, without darkness, without worry about being caught, without feeling rushed–and what a body it was. Six foot four inches of pure testosterone, wrapped in perfect layers of muscle, sewn together with veins and sinews, and all bound within a casing of well-groomed, olive skin. He had all of the parts that drove me nuts; hairy pecs, broad round shoulders, six pack abs, even his v-shred muscles that extended from his pelvis like handle-bars.
He had done some amateur bodybuilding in his youth, which explained his amazing physique, but when he inherited his parent’s fortune after their deaths, he left that world behind and started investing. Now, he was an independently wealthy millionaire, but he still worked out in the home gym downstairs. More than once I’d snuck down there to watch him flex, and sweat, and eventually fuck. But it was always in secret. In the shadows. But now, I was able to admire him, right in the open.
“How do you like your steak?” he asked.
“Rare.”
“That’s my boy!”
He pulled out a knife, cooking utensils, and a whole host of other kitchen gadgetries, but I really didn’t pay attention to what he was doing. I was just watching his muscles dance to the twisting and bending of his body, and watching his cock sway to and fro as he moved about the room. Yet the more I watched him, the way his meat moved over his bones, the hungrier I became. All I wanted was to have him throw me down on the kitchen floor and pound my ass as I chomped off thick, hearty bites of his flesh. I wanted to hear him scream in pain as he fucked me. I wanted to hear him moan with pleasure as he bled.
John closed the oven door and spun the timer, which told me that it was going to be a few minutes before the steaks were ready, and that he was now free. I motioned for him to come sit next to me, and he obliged. The moment his butt hit the chair, I tore off my shirt and straddled him; kissing, licking, and nibbling his nipples and chest. The salt of his sweat made every part of him taste delicious and the firmness of his pecs cried out for me to take a bite. They were like two crisp, fleshy apples and I wanted to just sink my teeth into them. Over and over, I licked and nibbled amid his soft groans, trying hard to resist my urge, but then my teeth finally clamped down against his skin. I drew blood.
The taste of it was exhilarating. The warmth of its spray. The saltiness of the iron against my tongue. The cry of pain as he flexed against my teeth, which only made the blood flow harder. It was wonderful! Tastefully delightful!
But I hadn’t bitten off a chunk. I had only bitten down enough to break his skin. My tongue lapped up the spewing blood amid his flinching and gasping until his chest and stomach were stained with red streaks. I pressed my lips against the open wounds and suckled, and bit by bit, the wounds closed, until not a remnant remained, save the blood that had managed to escape. From his cock to his neck, I licked, catching every drop possible. I couldn’t let it go to waste and it tasted so good. So wonderfully warm and good.
My face was covered in blood. My hands were covered in blood. And I didn’t care. I felt so warm inside, as if I’d taken my first bite of freshly baked apple pie.
The buzzing of the timer interrupted us, and though John nearly wore a skin tight toga of red across his front, his eyes gazed at me as if nothing odd had happened. His only concern seemed to be ensuring that the steaks were removed from the oven in time.
“Gonna have to get up here,” said John. “Don’t want those to overcook.”
I took one more, long lick of his chest, then un-straddled him and sat back down on my chair. He scurried off toward the oven and I reveled in the taste that still lingered in my mouth.
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to eat that steak, even if it is rare,” I said.
“Why not?” said John.
“I think I have a hankering for raw meat.”
“I can pull out the other uncooked steak, if you want.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. I want to eat someone…alive.”
“That cop is coming over later. You should see if he can pick someone up.”
John’s casualness to my feeding habits was becoming quite enjoyable.
I grinned. “That’s a pretty good idea.”
Though I hadn’t done that before, it took relatively little effort to figure out how. As if my mind just naturally knew what to do. I closed my eyes and reached out to him in my mind, planting the suggestion into his thoughts along with my desired menu selection.
“Easy enough,” I said, opening my eyes again.
“You at least want to try the steak?” said John.
“Naw. You go ahead and have both. I’ll just eat off of you in the meantime.”
He plated the warm meats and grabbed a few buns from the nearby pantry, along with a knife and fork.
“You sure you don’t wanna try this?” said John. “It smells really good.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
He sat down and began to eat. With a few swift glides of the silvery blade, the meat parted, displaying the bright red hidden beneath the surface. With every push of his fork, it bled oil and blood. Once again, my heart began to pound. It would probably still take a while before that cop showed up with my order, and I would need something more to tide me over.
I crawled underneath the table and made my way toward his cock. But although I loved playing with it, and I loved how it felt inside my mouth and inside of me, his cock wasn’t my target. Instead, it was the thick, pulsing vein directly to the left of his cock, which protruded so clearly just underneath the skin. I could hear it beating and coursing with life.
I knelt between his legs and nudged his penis away with my face. My tongue caressed his inner thigh and cleaned the skin where I was going to feed from.
“Hey John?” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Could I borrow your knife for a second?”
The handle of his knife lowered down and I grabbed it.
“Can you sit on the edge of the chair?” I asked.
His lower body pulled forward. This provided me with more space to be able to fully cup the area with my lips, so that nothing went to waste. I couldn’t have that. I pressed the tip of the sharp knife against his skin, right on top of that underground river of blood, until it burst open like a mountain spring. I swiftly encased the opening with my mouth, suckling and swallowing every drop of red that came spewing out. Oh it tasted so good. It felt so warm sliding down my throat and into my stomach.
John moaned and winced with pain, but he just collected his knife and continued eating.
“Be sure to leave some for me, OK?” he said.
Gulp after gulp, lap after lap, the smooth liquid filled my gut with unending celebration. My hands grasped and squeezed at his ass and thighs, unable to contain my delight at the wonder of this bounty. It was delicious and oh so satisfying.
Yet after just a couple minutes, as if by instincts, my senses told me to stop. I suckled on the wound one last time and then it closed up beneath my lips, just like how it did before when I bit into his chest. It appeared that even his flesh took its cue from me, closing and healing whenever I needed it to.
I crawled back to my seat and sat back on my chair, reveling in the warmth that filled my stomach. John was only half done with his steak, but I sensed that he was slowing down, likely not from being hungry, but from the amount of blood I’d drained from him.
“How’re you feeling?” I asked.
“Just a little light headed,” he said.
“Just finish this steak and I’ll help you to the sofa.”
I stood up, walked behind him, and hugged his thick chest. I licked and kissed his neck, following the contours of his muscles and tendons, until my mouth reached his ear.
“Finish the steaks,” I whispered.
I cupped his nipples with my palms, clamped my fingers down against the surrounding skin, and then massaged his chest in broad circular motions.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I whispered again.
His groggy hands and fingers seemed to revitalize with new strength, and he finished off both steaks within a matter of minutes, barely chewing or savoring their flavor. Just biting and swallowing.
“That’s a good, daddy. Now finish off your water and we’ll go lie down.”
He chugged down the tall glass with several loud gulps, which sent small rivers flowing out from the sides of his mouth and down his partially bloodied chest. Yet as soon as the glass emptied, his hand fell limp and the glass tumbled. It would’ve shattered too had I not caught it just in time.
“You’re a good son,” said John, weak and groggy.
He turned to look at me, with eyes half-open. In his gaze were fatigue, delirium, and complete adoration.
“I love you,” he continued.
He tried to cup my cheek, but his hand didn’t seem to have the strength to make it above his shoulders.
“I love you too,” I said.
I pressed my lips against his strong mouth, savoring the taste of meat and blood from his tongue, and the offering of total submission from his eyes. He was mine now. Wholly and entirely mine. Mind, body, and soul.
As we kissed, I slid my arm around his waist and wrapped his opposite arm around my shoulder, so that I could bear the burden of his weight when he got up.
“Time to lay down,” I said.
“Do I get to fuck you again?” he asked.
“Maybe later. But for now, you need to rest.”
I hoisted him up, and to my surprise, his body felt strangely light. Or rather, I felt incredibly strong. I was able to bear the full weight of his 200+ pound body, and yet it felt no heavier than carrying a small sack of potatoes.
“I need more,” I whispered.
With a little bit of effort, I managed to get John over to the sofa which rested in the nearby den and I laid his exhausted body down on it. He had practically passed out along the way, but I forced his legs to walk regardless, because it was just easier than trying to carry a gigantic man through the door ways. But as he laid there, sleeping so comfortably on the pillow I’d propped up behind his head, an urge to tear into his vulnerable and succulent body exploded inside of me. I had to clench my teeth just to suppress that monstrous desire.
“I have to eat someone,” I said. “Soon.”
John was indeed a choice morsel of muscle and flesh, but I needed him to keep up my disguise and to lure in more prey. I had a week and a half before Frannie bit the big one and I had to ensure that I was up to full strength before any kind of investigators came snooping around.
I got up and went into the bathroom to fetch a basin of warm water and a wash cloth. Despite my feeding, I still had to keep John clean, but the moment I caught my reflection–caked in blood–I instead decided I needed a shower first.
The hot water felt so good and refreshing, however, when I looked down at my arms, I noticed that my skin had begun to age. In fact, it wasn’t just my skin that was changing, it was all of me. I felt my muscles ripple and build inside of me, my bones cracked and creaked as they grew and expanded, and my face twitched and itched as it morphed. I guess I had been a bit dehydrated and just needed some water to complete this stage of my transformation.
Bit by bit, my body stopped moving on its own, and a sense of calm settled inside of me. I turned off the water, wiped myself down with the towel that hung nearby, and stepped over to the wall sized mirror. Sure enough, I’d aged. I no longer looked like a lean muscled sixteen year old, but a well-built, twenty year old. My body was finally shapely, with broad shoulders, protruding pecs, well defined abs, and one hell of a firm, round ass. And as a final touch, soft, short hairs began to grow on my chest, spreading down along my stomach, around my cock, and onto my thighs and legs. I actually looked like an adult again. Of course, the new problem now was how was I supposed to mask as a sixteen year old looking like this?
I set that thought aside for the moment and collected the basin of warm water and the wash cloth. However, as I made my way back to the den, a thought whispered into my mind. The cop we’d bumped into earlier had just arrived with a special package he needed to drop off. I set the items down and bolted toward the front door, still completely stark naked. Just as I reached for the door knob, a knock resounded.
I flung the door open, and there before me stood Scott, that same cop who had nearly caught us earlier, still fully decked out in his tight summer uniform and aviator sunglasses.
“Whoa there!” he shouted. “Wanna put some clothes on first, kid?”
“No.”
I grabbed him by his shirt, pulled him into the foyer, and closed the door behind us. Before he even uttered another word, my hand dug into his pants and stroked his cock, while my lips suckled on his manly jaw and mouth.
“Stroke me,” I commanded. “Touch me.”
My body shivered as his warm, rough hand gripped my growing penis, and began to milk it.
“I’m not a faggot,” he whispered amid quick breaths.
“You don’t have to be,” I said.
“But…but I brought you one.”
I pulled my face away. “So soon? I thought you weren’t getting off until later.”
“I’m still on duty, but for some reason I felt an urge to go back to that rest area and I found this queer there. He was alone, so I thought, what the hell. You want him or not?”
I smiled with devilish delight. “Sure as shit, I’ll take him.”
“He’s a fighter though.”
“Don’t worry. I’m stronger than I look.”
“Speaking of that, you look different.”
“Nah. It’s all inside your head.” I kissed him one more time, flicking his lip with my tongue.
“Right,” he said, after I finally unlocked. He licked his lips, seeming to savor my saliva, then wiped his mouth with his hand. “I’ll be back.”
I pulled my hand out of his pants and he exited the door. Peering out from the opening, I noticed that he had parked is patrol car in the empty space to the left of our garage, making it harder to see if anyone was inside his vehicle. I guess he was used to shady dealings as well.
As soon as his door opened, a flurry of obscenities came flying out along with a tall, stocky built, man. Fully bearded, reddish-brown hair, and handcuffed. He wore what appeared to be a rugby jersey and a pair of shorts that stretched around his large thighs. Short shorts, even. He wasn’t a body builder with shredded muscle, but his silhouette bulged enough to tell me that he would suffice. Besides, I didn’t mind a slight marbling of my meat, so long as it was meat and it was big.
Scott managed to wrangle him past the garage and up the front steps with little issues, yet the flurry of cussing didn’t stop until this big bear of a man finally set his eyes on me.
“Mother fucker!” he said, as he gazed at my naked body.
Whatever feelings of rage or injustice he felt seemed to melt away, and all he did was stand there in complete silence, eyeing me up and down.
“Just let him go in the foyer, Scott,” I said. “I’ll take it from here.”
“You sure?” said Scott.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
Without a word, Scott unlocked the cuffs and left, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone with my new husky toy.
“You thirsty?” I asked, locking the deadbolt.
“Hell yeah, I’m thirsty?” he retorted.
The dull glow of his eyes told me that he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box and probably wouldn’t be able to converse on the finer points of life, however, his muscled gut, firm jaw, sculpted pecs, and thick thighs were more than enough for me to forgive his shortcomings. I smiled at his enamored expression.
I stepped over to him, held is rough and aged hand in mine, and cupped his palm around my cock. I moaned as his fingers wiggled around my balls.
“That gorgeous body of yours got a name?” I asked.
“Mike. My name’s Mike.”
I walked forward, trying to press my body against his, but he just kept stepping backward. Almost as if in disbelief.
“I bet you’re wondering what the hell’s going on?” I said.
“Yeah, I am,” he nodded.
Mike’s back finally hit the edge of foyer with a thud, and I took that opportunity to lunge forward. I wrapped my lips around his mouth, and gave him a wet and sloppy kiss. My face pressed so hard against him that his hands flinched, squeezing my cock and balls even harder. But that didn’t stop me. I rammed my tongue into him, biting and nibbling, until both our mouths were gleaming with saliva and excitement.
“Mike, I want you to fuck me,” I said, in-between kisses. “Can you do that?”
“Fuck yeah.”
“Are you sure you know how?”
“Fuck yes.”
His rugged hands grabbed my butt cheeks and squeezed, pulling me tighter against his body. Inch by inch, his fingers crawled toward my hole, spreading it wide with his firm grip.
“You want me to fuck that man pussy?” he asked.
“Yes. I want your dick in my man pussy.”
He rubbed his body against mine, gently, with the motion starting from this wide chest, moving down his stomach, and ending at his hips with his growing cock thumping into mine. He’d play this game before. This game of wild and crazy sex. But little did he know he would be giving me more than just sex. He was going to be giving me hours upon hours of pure entertainment and delight.
*Shit, I must be dreaming*, he thought.
And there it was. The sign that said my saliva had worked its way into his head and he was now mine. All mine. I pulled away from his mouth and looked deep into his green eyes, set within a few wrinkles and fine lines. His thoughts told me he was in his mid-forties, a gay man who liked to cheat on his partner with younger men, and he was particularly fond of casual encounters and glory holes. He was waiting to meet up with someone when Officer Scott picked him up. For all intent and purposes, his disappearance could be spun as a man mysteriously disappearing with another man. It happened all the time.
“Mike,” I whispered.
“Yeah, cutie,” he said with a wide grin on his face.
“You’re going to fuck me, until I’m happy. You OK with that?
“Oh hell yeah.”
“Then I’m going to fuck you until I’m happy. You OK with that?”
“Even better.”
“Then I’m going to fucking eat you.”
He laughed with a deep, resounding laugh that echoed throughout his lungs. I smirked at his response.
“Fuck you’re cute,” he said.
“Take off your shoes.”
I stepped away and he swiftly took off his shoes and socks. I slipped my hands under the base of his shirt and pulled it up, kissing every inch of his body. When I got to his nipples, I stopped and pinched down on one with the tip of my teeth, pulling away slightly. He gasped and winced. Then I finally slipped the remainder of the off.
His body was a classic bear torso, furry and rounded, but still shaped by the large muscles that hid beneath the mild layers of skin and fat.
“You’re going to be my first teddy bear,” I said.
“Is this your first time?” he asked.
“It will be, teddy bear.” That was a lie. “Be sure to be rough.”
I reached into his shorts, grabbed his cocked, and led him through the living room, up the stairs, and into the John and Frannie’s bedroom.
“I want you to shower first,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yep. Shower.”
I patted his butt toward the attached bathroom and followed him in. The master bathroom had a full bath, Jacuzzi, and a full stand up shower with a clear, sliding glass door. On top of that, everything was covered with large tiling, so spills were very easy to clean up. John and Frannie spared no expense when they created this personal spa and I was very glad that they did.
Mike pulled off his shorts to reveal a furry and rounded butt, accented with that wonderful curvature on the edges. It sent waves of excitement rolling through me knowing that I would be able to look at his delectable form whenever I wanted to from this day forward. My handsome and sexy teddy bear.
“Don’t close the shower door,” I said, as he stepped into it.
He looked back at me and grinned. Then he turned on the faucet, which sprinkled streams of gleaming water onto his head and torso. I just stood there and watched, as his skin took on a soft glow, and his reddish brown hair darkened to a nigh black.
“You never told me your name,” he said.
“I’m Josh.”
“So Josh, you do this kind of stuff often?”
“What kind of stuff?”
“I dunno. Arresting men and having cops deliver them to your door step.”
“Were you surprised?”
“I was pissed at first. But then yes, surprised. Did one of my friends put you up to this?”
“Sure.” I shrugged.
“Yeah? Which one?”
“He didn’t give me a name.”
“What did he look like?”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m just supposed to make you happy.”
“Well, I’m definitely already happy.”
“Oh, it gets better. Trust me.”
He lathered himself with a thick coat of white suds, and scrubbed and rubbed his body, almost as if he were doing a solo porn video. I chuckled to myself.
“There aren’t be any cameras,” I said. “Just wash and rinse. And be sure to scrub your ass.”
After a few minutes of rinsing, he emerged from the shower, soaking wet and squeaky clean. I tossed him a towel from the nearby shelf and he dabbed himself dry.
“Want me to prep down there too?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “There’s a box of douche in the drawer by the sink.”
He walked over, pulled out the box, and retrieved the tear drop shaped instrument. After emptying its contents into the sink, he re-filled it with warm water, came over to me and knelt down on both knees.
“You gonna watch while I do this?” he said.
“Why not?”
“Alright,” he said, shaking his head. “Whatever.”
He leaned forward with his butt pointed up toward the ceiling, and stuck the tube into his butt hole. With a firm grip and a slight wince, he squeezed.
I sat down on the cool tile and rubbed his back, which thankfully was well groomed and hairless.
“The things we do for sex,” he said.
I smiled at his comment and allowed my hand to glide down his back and onto his hairy butt cheeks.
He flinched. “Hold on! I can’t do this and have you doing that at the same time.”
It almost felt too easy to lure him into sex. Of course if he knew what happened when I had sex with men, he’d probably be more hesitant, but since he was so unassuming, despite how strange this hookup was, I didn’t want to spoil his fun. And it would be fun, for both of us, up until the end.
After a few minutes, he got up, relieved himself into the toilet, then he wiped himself clean and stood up. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/9ubz0l/soul_binder_chapter_ii_gay_mm_urban_fantasy_horror