The Postman Rings Thrice

[leanbicycler]

This is a story that i wrote and am now republishing. 50/50 real and fantasy. Hope you enjoy it.


When I opened the mail that afternoon, after returning from my engineer's job, I had no idea what might be instore for me. The unstamped, hand written envelope, said. Photo inside. Do not bend. I opened it. Inside was a photo of me, sunning in the back yard, idly caressing myself, lazily. I tore open the envelope, and a note dropped out. Picking it up gingerly, I read, with rising surprise this missive:

Patrique,

I see you can now be aware, that your back yard antics are captured in my telephoto lens. I have many more of these, and if you want them back, with the negatives, you will be at my house, tomorrow(Friday) night, at 8 pm sharp. We will negotiate a fair arrangement. I don't want money.

Don the Mailman

My mind raced. This was the smarmy guy that lived at the end of the cul de sac, just down the road. And, his upper deck had a good view of our backyard pool. At first, I thought, no biggie. I would go over there, and see what he had to say, and then maybe shove a hundred at him.

The rest of the week raced by. I almost forgot the appointment. But at 8 o'clock sharp, I knocked on his door. It opened promptly, and there was Don boy, in cutoffs. He smiled, handed me a beer, and said "Come On in". We can settle this like men, right?

So, I walked over to his table, and he had some cards spread out. Want to play five hands of poker, winner take all? He asked.

Sure, hiding my smirk, knowing how good I was at poker. We played four hands. Broke even, two and two. On the final hand, he looked at me hard, and said "This is for all the bananas. The photos and negs are yours, IF you win this hand". What I did not know is that when we switched to tequila and beers, is that my tolerance was not that good. So, after a few rounds of bluffing, calls, and raises, the die was cast.

I turned up Kings over tens. Don had a full house.

So, with a weird smile on his lips, he said.."You've been a good sport. Just go in the back room, behind that brown door, and the photos and negs are in an envelope right on my weight bench". I'll be here when you get back.

So, with no regard for anything, and a slight buzz on my head and face, I got up, walked to the back room, and sure enough, there they were. I leaned over, the bench, since the envelope had fallen on the floor on the other site. As I reached for the envelope, I heard a noise behind me.

Half turning, I saw Don smiling right behind me. His strong arms pinned me to the weight bench, as my legs kicked furiously. He just sat on my back, and took my hands, and pinned them behind my back, painfully forcing them up high. He leaned over, and said "Just calm down. You are going to get what you deserve."

My mind raced. What I deserve? What is that supposed to mean. While I was kicking and wriggling, under his weight, I felt his hands wrap a loose rope around my wrists. Quickly my hands were pulled over my head, and tied together to the hook on the wall over the weight bench. Turning quickly, he leaned over, and grabbing each of my ankles in turn, he tied each of them to the leg of the bench.

Stepping up, he looked at me, tied to the bench, and made a few adjustment. Then with my face down to the bench, his hands moved over my bottom. I started to protest, but as soon as my mouth opened, he shoved some of his briefs into my mouth, and tied it off with a rope. I struggled, but the ropes held me tight.

He leaned over to my ear. Patrique, today is the day you pay for your sins. I am going to whip your ass, and have you for my boy tonight. So, you might as well relax.

As I struggled with the ropes, I heard a laugh behind me. Don pushed his hand up under my waist, and with a quick twist(did not know mail men could be that strong) unsnapped my tennis shorts, unizipped them, and pulled and tugged on them, until they were spread wide between my thighs. "Tch..tch. Can't have these in the way, now can we?" I watched in the workout mirror on the wall, in rising horror, as Don pulled a long knife from the drawer, and proceeded to cut the tennis shorts off of me. I watched as the 60 dollar shorts, were shredded and piled loose on the floor. Don smiled, and with the knife edge along my thighs, did the same thing with my briefs, and held them up on the knifepoint, for me to see. 

I could feel the cool air on my now naked bottom, and my wriggling and struggles only intensified. Don would have none of that. Stepping close to my legs, he aimed his large hand at my bottom, and applied 25 strokes on each cheek, with the intenstity only getting higher with each stroke. My bottom exploded in pain and heat, and he picked up his digital camera, and took five shots of my now reddened bottom. My breathing was becoming ragged, from the exertion of trying to get free.

Don smiled. "Patrique, You may be more than I can handle on my own". With that, he took out a paddle from the drawer, raised it high, and with a solemn cadence, applied 30 more strokes right across the tender underside of my cheeks. My eyes teared up from the pain. He just laughed.

"I will be going out for some 'supplies' for a little while. While I am gone, I have a surprise for you". As I watched him in the mirror, I saw a cabinet open, and inside where canes, tawses, leather straps, and a pickle jar, which looked completely out of place. Leaving the door open just enough so I could see all the tools, he picked up the pickle jar, opened the lid, and extracted some sort of root.

Stepping up to my lets, he pushed my cheeks apart, and with only the oil from the root, pressed it firmly into my bottom. As it pushed deeply into me, I felt a sudden warmth, then a searing heat.

Don laughed. "That is my special root, from the ginger tree". "It has been steeping in a special oil of horse liniment". So, when I return, your bottom ought to be nice and tender and ready. Patting me on my cheeks, he turned, and closed the door.

As soon as I heard the door close, I started to do two things. First, to try to push that root out of my bottom. No matter how I tried, the shape seemed to keep it plugged deep inside, where the intensity of the burn was only becoming moreso. As each minute went by, the burn inside my bottom, was matched by the burn on my cheeks. My situation seemed hopeless. I waited, breathing raggedly through the gag in my mouth.


After almost what seemed like hours, the sound of the front door slamming, and what sounded like three voices, startled the young man out of his sorrowful consideration of his situation. Not being even able to yell, from the gag in his mouth, he nervously waited, hoping that the mailman would NOT come into the room. A moment later, those hopes were dashed, as the door opened in the mirror. Three heads looked in, and the two men, one of whom was a stranger, and a woman with spiky hair, startled him, with what looked like overeager leers at his bottom. They all smiled, and the woman started to laugh. She said to the men. "Let me have him first. I don't want his bottom spoiled for me". The two men left, chuckling to themselves. The woman, dressed in leather that looked real, and dark black, walked into the room, and placed her hand, with long red nails on his bottom.

Smiling, she leaned over to his ear, and said smoothly "Do you know that I do with nice young meat like yours?". Shaking his head, he could only struggle against the bonds. As he watched, she placed her gym bag on the floor, and heard the zipper slide slowly open. As his eyes grew large, he saw a long, black rubber dildo, on a harness, placed on the table. And then, a long whippy tawse came out next. As he watched, she smilingly placed the harness around her hips, and made it fast and tight. Watching her walk around him, the black dildo bobbed menacingly, and she reached into her bag, and brought out a tube of lube. As she watched his arching eyes go wider, she applied the lube all along what looked to be almost a foot of rubber. Now realizing what would happen, he shook violently in his ties, which only made her laugh.

Fetching her tawse, she walked around his face, and rubbed the tip of the dildo in his face, and reached over, and lashed his bottom, right in the middle, with the tawse. As his eyes filled with tears from the pain, his nose felt the hard rubber pressing against his mouth. He kept it closed.

She laughed. "O.K. don't want to make it slick?. Then we'll just get this over with". She walked right behind his bottom, and while leaning forward, pressing the knob up against his bottom, she started whipping his back. As his back screamed from the abuse, he felt the knob sink into the first ring of his bottom, and as he moaned and started to sob, she entered him with half of the dildo. Pressing harder, she forced each inch of that black rubber cock up his virgin ass, and moaned as she realized his ass was untouched. With a full thrust, she rammed it home, making his cheeks split wide open. With the tawse, as she withdrew the dildo on the backstroke, she would whip the tawse up and around his thighs. Reaching with the long leads, to his cock and balls, she started grinding her hips, making each powerful stroke count, and making a cross hatch of stripes on his upturned and thoroughly raped bottom.

As she humped and whipped his bottom, his mind went into a space where he never knew it could. His hips started pushing back against the nasty intrustion. Suddenly, as her moans started keening, he felt a further thrust inside of him, and his cock, started to spurt without his control. She laughed, and reached around and moved her spiked glove hand on his member, squeezing every last drop out. As she withdrew from his bottom, he almost collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

Standind behind him now, she raised the tawse, and counting them all out, laid 50 more lashes across his bottom, with the long strands catching his now gaping hole. As his mind went blank, his whole body raged with pain, and slowly, he sank into oblivion. His body was being ravaged, but his mind escaped. 

The last thing he heard, consciously, was her voice. "Now you are ready for Big Tom, and Don". Her heard her derisive laughter as she went out the door. His bottom was a shambles, with his hole feeling like a truck had come down a wrong way street. The clock ticking on the wall made him dread another minute, but the door, slightly ajar, stayed in position.

[tomhobbes]

HOT! erotic tension and action well developed; on the one to ten erection scale this is a nine.

[leanbicycler]

thx tom it's 50/50 fact and fantasy can you decide which is which? and there are two more segments in archives too.