Toy Boys

[HBK]

Teaser: .
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Index:

• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2

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Title: Toy Boys
Author: HBK
Chapter Tags: none
Content Warnings: none
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A short story, but just the beginning. Hope you like it
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Toy Boys

Kidnapped

It was a warm summer evening, the sun hanging low in the sky as I jogged through the park. My breathing was steady, music pumping through my earphones, and I felt alive, free. I was 19, just finished with school, full of plans for the future. But then I heard the screech of tires behind me. A black van pulled up beside me, the side door slid open, and before I could react, two men grabbed me. Their hands were like vices; one ripped my earphones out, the other pressed a cloth against my face. A sharp, chemical smell filled my nose, and the world went black.

Hours later, I came to. My head throbbed, my mouth was dry, and a foul-tasting gag stifled any sound. I was naked, my skin prickling with cold, my wrists bound behind my back. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw them: nine other young men, all around my age—18, 19, maybe 20 years old. They sat or lay on the cold metal floor, just as naked, gagged, and bound as I was. Their eyes were wide with fear and confusion. No one spoke—we couldn’t. Only frightened glances passed between us, a silent cry for answers.

A faint rocking motion and the low hum of engines told me we were on a ship. The walls were metal, rusty and cold, and a small porthole let in faint light. It smelled of salt, sweat, and fear. I tried to make sense of it all, but panic made it hard to think. Where were we? Why was I here? Hours dragged on, an eternity of silence and dread, until exhaustion pulled me back into sleep, the cold of the floor seeping into my bones.

A loud bang jolted me awake. The cabin door was flung open, and a burly man with tattooed arms stormed in. “Get up!” he barked, his voice rough and accented. We stumbled to our feet, our movements clumsy from the restraints. With brute force, we were herded out of the cabin, down a narrow corridor, and onto the ship’s deck. The sun burned on my bare skin, and I squinted against the harsh light. We were docked at a harbor, palm trees swaying in the distance, the air heavy and humid. It was clear: we were far from home, in some foreign land, its language unknown to me.

From the ship, we were shoved into a van and driven to a large, rundown house. Inside, we were taken to a tiled room where our restraints were removed, but the gags stayed in place. Under the watchful eyes of two guards, we were forced to shower. The water was cold, and when one of the guards shaved off my pubic hair with a razor, I felt exposed, humiliated. The others fared no better—their faces mirrored the same mix of shame and fear. When food was served—a bland soup and bread—the gags were briefly removed, but the guards shouted the moment anyone tried to speak. “Shut up!” one snapped, and we obeyed, the panic in our eyes unspoken.

Questions burned in my mind: Where were we? What did they want with us? The uncertainty was worse than the cold or the humiliation. One by one, the others were taken away. Some fought, screaming into their gags, but were quickly overpowered. Others followed with slumped shoulders, as if they’d already given up. I was the sixth. My heart pounded as the guards grabbed me and dragged me through a hallway into a room.

The room was sterile, almost clinical. In the center stood a bed, next to it a gynecological chair with stirrups. I tried to resist, kicking at the guards, but they were too strong. They lifted me onto the chair with ease, strapping my legs and arms down, the gag muffling my screams. A man in a white coat entered, his face expressionless. Without a word, he put on gloves, and before I could react, I felt his finger inside my ass. The pain was sharp, unexpected, and I screamed into the gag as he added a second finger, thrusting several times. Tears stung my eyes, my body trembling with shock and shame.

Then he filled a syringe, and I felt a prick in my arm. My muscles grew heavy, my head foggy, but I stayed conscious. The doctor fastened a tight leather collar around my neck, feeling like a noose, before leaving the room. The guards stayed behind, their gazes cold and calculating. “Your turn now,” one said, and my stomach dropped as he unzipped his pants.

I screamed, shook my head, but the gag choked my words. The first guard grabbed my hips, and I felt him enter my pre-stretched ass. The pain was overwhelming, a burning, tearing sensation that ripped through my body. At the same time, the other guard yanked out my gag and forced his cock into my mouth. “Take it,” he growled, and I gagged, unable to resist. That I was straight didn’t matter to them at all. They used me, their movements rough and merciless, while I was helplessly strapped to the chair.

After what felt like an eternity, I felt the one in my ass release, a hot, humiliating sensation that made me shudder. The other came in my mouth, the salty, bitter semen dripping from the corners of my lips as I refused to swallow. I gagged, coughed, my body shaking with disgust and pain. They laughed, a cold, mocking sound, before unstrapping me from the chair.

But the ordeal wasn’t over. They dragged me to another room, where a wooden bench stood. My arms and legs were strapped down again, the gag shoved back into my mouth. Behind me, I heard a mechanical hum, and then I felt it: a dildo, cold and slick, pressing into my sore ass. A machine began moving it back and forth—sometimes deep and slow, sometimes faster with shorter thrusts. The pain was constant, a dull, throbbing burn that intensified with every movement. I whimpered, my body trembling, but the machine didn’t stop. It went on for an hour, maybe more, each second a torment, until I was nothing but a broken, exhausted wreck.

As night fell, they dragged me to a small cell. A narrow bed and a rusty toilet were its only furnishings. I collapsed onto the mattress, my body aching, my ass burning, the humiliation eating away at my soul. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind—who were these people? What did they want with us? Would I ever get home? The fear was crushing, but exhaustion was stronger. Somehow, despite everything, I fell into a fitful sleep, the darkness a brief escape from the hell I was trapped in.

[Neighbor]

A short brutal introduction to male-male rape. I would have felt comfortable with a bit more description of what the protagonist saw, what the room looked like, how the bad guys were dressed, what language was spoken, etc. You describe the first-person physical and emotional reactions in good detail.

This feels like a good start to a longer story.

[Claire]

Okay, interesting start. A bit rushed but I'm curious to see where this goes. I would really like to know who our protagonist is.

[JTCK]

Questions burned in my mind: Where were we? What did they want with us? The uncertainty was worse than the cold or the humiliation. One by one, the others were taken away. Some fought, screaming into their gags, but were quickly overpowered. Others followed with slumped shoulders, as if they’d already given up. I was the sixth. My heart pounded as the guards grabbed me and dragged me through a hallway into a room.

I totally agree with the others. Sometimes it’s cool to be thrown straight into the story, no intro needed. But here, things are moving too fast. In the part I quoted, the main character gets a brief moment of rest – and that’s actually where this first part of the story works best for me. It’s the moment where I can really start to connect with the character. What a terrifying, uncertain situation!

Thank you for the story, and I'm curious to see how it continues.