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drysuitdivingdrone1950 · 2 years

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GANG BANG HANG

To most people, Patrick seemed like the typical nerdy guy that no one paid much attention too. He occasionally would get bullied by the jocks in school, but this was not excessive and he was able to tolerated with little difficulty. For his 16th birthday his family chipped in with him and purchased his first motorbike. It was a 250 cc that got him around.

Shortly after that he came out to his family and close friend that he was gay. About the same time, a biker nailed his virgin ass. At first Patrick had no clue what he was getting himself into. But as things unfolded, he consented to the plowing that he received.

It was then that his obsessions began. As he rode his bike down the highway, he would come upon or meet other bikers. Each time he met one that was geared up in leathers, his obsession would kick in. He would have a fantasy about riding with the leather biker. That fantasy would include what it would be like to get nailed by that biker. Eventually, it would evolve to the point that he acted upon his fantasies as much as possible. By his 21st birthday, he had developed a reputation as being an easy fagot biker bitch.

Then he started having other fantasies. Fantasies about being raped and gang banged. Initially he resisted these fantasies because he feared the potential violence that went along with them. But over the coming years his obsession would wear down his resistance.

His obsessions also evolved in a way that scarred the crap out of himself. His obsessions now included tails about gallows, nooses and hangings. Initially, he put up a good resistance to this obsession. He thought he was ‘safe’ and would never act out on such a thought. It was merely just a curiosity that he had. He continued to indulge in that ‘curiosity’ until half of his web blog was filled with it.

It was little or no wonder that the news stories about Oliver caught Patrick’s attention. They had even chatted with each other about their fantasies. The autopsy reports indicated intoxication with traces of GHB or Gamma Hydroxybutyrate (C 4 H 8 O 3) in Oliver’s system. Only Oliver’s fingerprints were found on the bottle of GHB. There were reports of notes in his computer that indicated he had a crush on an older man named Frank who would fulfill his greatest fetish fantasy. But the lead detective on the case suspected that even the notes were a fantasy that Oliver had. His death was ruled a suicide.

Frank no longer existed. The name was just another alias that was used for Oliver’s fantasy. One of many aliases used by the same man who had the desire to fulfill the fantasies of young men in their mid-twenties. Perhaps when he was growing up, he watched that TV series, Fantasy Island, far to often. He seemed to start out by encouraging young men to take up sky diving or base jumping. He even provided financial support in some cases. That is how I first met up with him. But more about that later.

‘Frank’ now opened a new account under the name of ‘Garett’. Garett had been doing a lot of his homework related to Patrick. He saw a lot of potential with Patrick. The predator was already salivating over his next pray as he wrapped things up with Oliver.

He had several postings about hanging, hangmen, Nooses, and leather bikers. He even had a kinky twist in which the bikers would cum or piss their jeans while they were hanging. This scenario at first seemed much more of a challenge to Garett than Oliver had been. This would also be more of a challenge to not leave any evidence behind.

But Garett felt he was up for such a challenge. After all, in some of his prior situations he had been able to match people up with similar fantasies. Like the time he got a new suit for Jason by matching him up with Steve. Now, Garett sought out other bikers who would help Patrick fulfil his wildest fantasy.

Garett set his sights on the Sturgis Rally that was about 10 months from now. That would give him sufficient time to get all of the right players in the right places at the right time. It would also give time ripen Patrick’s obsessions. Besides, Patrick had always wanted to attend the Sturgis rally and now he would have a perfect reason to do so.

As usual, Garett started out soft and slow, letting Patrick think he was the one that was running the show. Eventually, Patrick was the one seeking out Garett on a regular basis for chats or for rides together. At the same time Garett was orchestrating some sadistic bikers who were up for the challenge.

Patrick willingly sealed his own fate when Garett asked him the million-dollar question.

“What is your wildest fantasy that also scares the crap out of you?” Garett didn’t have to ask twice.

“Well, I am a faggot!” Patrick admitted. “I have a fantasy of being gang banged by other bikers. When they are finished with me, they want me to hang out with them by the camp fire.”

“What? Garett interjected, “Roasting marshmallows?”

“Hell no!” Patrick continued, “Hanging by a noose by the biker camp with their cum dripping out of my ass.”

“Oh man!” Garett interjects, “I bet that scars the crap out of ya!”

“Some days it does. I have fought this obsession for couple years now. I have resisted acting out on it. But sometimes I think it is my destiny. If it is, I just hope that I can Man up and go with it!”

The ride to Sturgis was long and hard. All day long Patrick’s ass took a pounding on the bike. But every night he sought out another leather rider for some more pounding.

Patrick and Garett had many opportunities to talk further about the details of Patrick’s fantasies. Garett took notes of every detail. Patrick got to ride thru the Needles like he had dreamed about. The view of Mt. Rushmore thru the tunnel on Iron Mountain Road lived up to its expectations. They even made it to Crazy Horse.

It was at Crazy Horse where they met up with some other bikers who would be setting up at the same camp. Patrick just thought it was chance meeting. Garett knew better. It was late that night when they arrived at the camp site. Just enough time to set up for the night and down a beer or two.

After breakfast the next day it was time to ride the Spearfish canyon with a stop in Dead Wood. The traffic was heavy and slow going. They arrived at Sturgis in time to take in one of the events. The following day they took in the Devil’s Tower. Patrick was now brave enough to wear his pants that had a back door on it.

“We all have balls that are about to burst!” One of the bikers announced.

“Do you have an open back door policy?” Another biker asked.

Without a word spoken, Patrick pulled the zipper all the way down and leaned over his bike. It wasn’t long before he was being spit roasted with one in the mouth and one in his ass. After everyone emptied their balls, Patrick said something sarcastic like, “is that all ya got?”

“We don’t cotton to mouthy faggots!” on of the bikers retorted.

To Garett, this all seemed like a well-choreographed scene. Patrick even sensed a strange familiarity about all this. But that did not cool his jets at all. It was as if he was asking for it.

“Git a rope!” One of the bikers yelled out.

Now Patrick knew for certain what was up.

He glared Garett in the eyes. “Do I have you to thank for this?”

“Are you whining about it?” Garrett replied, “Or are you going to man up?”

“Give it your best shot!” Patrick seemed to be egging them on.

Patrick allowed one of the bikers slipped the noose over his head and secured it. Pre was forming on his cock as he relished the feeling of the noose around his neck. In the past year there were multiple time in which Garett urged him on.

“Try it on for size”. And, ‘See if it really feels right for you!” were frequent lines used.

Each time Patrick tried on a noose it amplified his desire to carry out this fantasy.

“If Oliver can man up, so can I!” Patrick reported.

The bikers then put Patrick’s helmet on his head and also secured it. Patrick was instructed to stand on a bench. The rope was pulled up over a limb of an old cottonwood tree.

“Thanks man!” Patrick stated as he stepped off of the stand.

Patrick was now airborne.

“FUCK! He actually did it!” One of the bikers yelled out as they all watch in awe.

It was a natural reflex to wiggle and kick. Patrick even stretched his foot in an attempt to reach the ground. But he came up short by inches. He realized this was happening. It was for real. His fantasy was coming true. He was the faggot who took it like a man. In a few minutes piss was dripping to the ground from his boots. His back door was still open and there was a flow of cum spilling out. Just like Patrick had dream about.

The bikers quietly broke up camp and left Patrick hanging out like he wanted. It was later the next day when another biker was looking for a camp site and saw what he would never get out of his head. Detectives were quick to rule this case a suicide. One look at Patrick’s web site made that conclusion easy.

There were many others who had their fantasies come true. Some were like Oliver and Patrick who had to pay the ultimate price for their fantasies. Some others lost their nutz at the all-leather castration parties. While some were fortunate and only benefitted from the fulfilment of their wildest dreams.

My turn to fulfill my fantasy would come in a couple more years. I would meet Matt at the Mansion by the Lake. The rest of my story had already been written.

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