Mark never thought twice about helping his buddy Dave move some old gym equipment into the basement. Dave was the loud, cocky type who bragged about pussy every weekend, but he kept a locked room down there that he called his "play space." Mark figured it was weights or a punching bag until Dave shoved him inside one night after beers, shut the door, and clicked the padlock.
"Stay still or this gets rough," Dave said, voice flat like he was giving orders at work. He yanked Mark's wrists behind his back and looped thick rope around them, cinching tight until the fibers bit skin. Mark's first instinct was to laugh it off as a joke, but Dave wasn't smiling. He shoved Mark face-down over a padded bench and started wrapping more rope around his ankles, spreading them wide and knotting everything to the bench legs. Mark's jeans pulled tight across his ass.
"What the fuck, man? This ain't funny," Mark said, trying to twist free. The ropes held. Dave just grunted and cut Mark's shirt off with a knife, then ripped his jeans down to his knees. Mark's cock hung heavy between his spread thighs, soft at first from the shock. Dave grabbed it, gave it a few rough strokes, and Mark felt it twitch despite himself.
"Been watching you strut around straight as fuck," Dave muttered. He lubed two fingers and shoved them straight into Mark's hole without warning. Mark bucked, cursing, but the ropes kept him pinned. Dave worked those fingers deep, twisting and stretching until Mark's ass started to loosen and his cock filled out against his will. Precum dripped onto the bench. Dave laughed low. "Straight boys always get hard when they're tied."
He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one hard thrust. Mark yelled, the burn sharp and sudden, but Dave didn't stop. He fucked in steady, deep strokes, balls slapping Mark's ass, using the ropes to hold him open. Mark's protests turned into grunts. Every time Dave bottomed out, Mark's own cock jerked and leaked more. Dave reached under and stroked him in time with the thrusts until Mark came hard, shooting ropes across the floor while his ass clenched around Dave's dick.
Dave didn't pull out. He kept going, pounding until he flooded Mark's hole, then left him tied there, cum leaking down his thighs. "Round two when I feel like it," he said, and walked out.
Hours later Dave returned with another guy, some tattooed friend Mark didn't know. They untied him just enough to flip him onto his back, then retied his wrists to the bench above his head and his legs spread wide again. The new guy shoved his cock down Mark's throat while Dave fingered the cum out of his ass and replaced it with his own again. Mark gagged, spit running down his chin, but his cock stayed rock hard. They took turns using his mouth and ass, calling him a straight slut, making him beg before they let him come again.
By morning Mark was sore, covered in sweat and dried cum, still bound. Dave finally cut the ropes and let him up. Mark's legs shook. He didn't say much as he pulled his clothes on. But two nights later he texted Dave asking if the room was free.
Dave just sent back a picture of fresh rope coiled on the bench.
Mark kept coming back. Sometimes Dave tied him standing, arms overhead, legs spread, and edged him for an hour with a vibrator on his cock while fucking him from behind. Other times he added a blindfold and let strangers from the gym use Mark's mouth and ass while he watched. Mark stopped pretending he didn't want it. He started asking for tighter knots, harder slaps, bigger toys shoved in beside Dave's cock. His straight life stayed outside that room. Inside, he was just a body to be tied down and fucked raw until he couldn't think straight anymore.
