Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 How Not to Get Burned by DanielG (Mm, nc, tort) 5/04/2013

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   Darren was only 15, and he didn't sign up for this.

   The drippy sound of the faucet had been continuous while he laid snoring
across his uncomfortable metal resting place.  He was completely
unconscious when he was hauled in, and secured rather unconventionally to
some metal machine by a pair of handcuffs.

   The cuffs were once-shiny metal but dulled by use, and held his cock and
balls forward like a cock ring would do.  This cock ring, though, left
little room for expansion.  Worse yet was the heavy object his
yet-to-be-seen captor had secured him to; the other cuff was closed around
the hard steel of an old-fashioned radiator.  It was ridged on top, rusty
and with numerous vertical bars for the purpose of heating a single room.
His cock dangled down in the space between two of the metal heating
implements.

   The boy thanked god that it wasn't turned on.  He was glad he could just
lay flopped across the thing once he realized what it was, even if the hard
iron bit into his belly and chest.  The cuffs left little space for
anything else, especially since his cock stuck out helplessly.  Pulling
away just caused the side of his meat to be pushed right against one of the
metal heater bars.  So he laid there, losing track of time, staring at the
wood floor with his fresh, naked rump in the air, willing away the teenage
erections that could be caused by a slight breeze over his lightly-haired
asscrack; the erections which caused his cock to struggle against the
immovable prison of the shiny restraints.

   The room was sparse, but seemed furnished in a way that would make
leaving unnecessary - there was a mattress, yes, but the dripping sink
occupied another of the wooden room's corners, and near that he thought he
could see the dim outline of a toilet.  He shuddered and wondered how long
he had been laying here; the way the metal radiator formed grooves in his
belly, it must have been a while.

   Darren was perfectly-built, his body soft yet lean, hairless except
where puberty had most affected him.  His pinkish skin was bruised in
places, likely from a struggle.  He didn't remember the events leading up
to his loss of consciousness, so the fear struck him hard when he looked
around the dark room for some sort of clue.  No lights were on, and it must
have been around midnight when he woke up.  The window was open, which
chilled him and left his skin bumpy and shivering.  Out of the window he
could only see trees, with some clearings, but no other homes or people. 
Darren began to cope the only way he knew how, by tearing up and softly
beginning to sob.

   He could get off the radiator, but then he would have to stand hunched
over it, and the short chain on the cuffs meant that his soft,
uncircumcised penis would never be more than a few inches from the rusty
metal.  His captor was deliberate in his placement of the restraints in
that the boy was stuck between the two choices - if he were to lay in some
more comfortable position than with his thighs only halfway onto the bars,
then his cock would be pulled off.  If he were to sit on the thing, his
cock and balls were jerked even more painfully down between his legs.  So
he laid, crying in the pale moonlight that beamed in, until he began to
hear creaking in the old house, and footsteps approaching the door behind
him.

   The teen started to squirm, his lithe body straining to get off of the
radiator so that he could see the door.  The metal cuff was leaving an
angry-looking red ring around his privates, his soft young testes squeezed
tight in their sack.  Before he could make his way onto his feet, the door
swung open and cast a bright light over the boy, and especially over his
firm butt.

   "There's that sweet little cunt I been thinking about all night," spoke
a stranger's voice, his words spoken in a tone of greedy arousal.  There
was a smile on his bearded face, and he was handsome if a bit chubby. 
Running his fingers through his greasy, thick black hair, he moved around
to the young teen and squatted in front of him, getting a look at the
tear-streaked cheeks of the silently-sobbing boy.  He was hard, really
fucking hard in his jeans, and so pent up that he could drown a horse with
all the backed-up sperm swimming around in his balls.

   "Guess you don't remember me too much by that little look in your eye,"
chuckled the man, who was named Garry.  "I know all about you, though,
Darren Burke, blue-eyed and oh-so-innocent, ran away from home to escape
the father who belted you when you did wrong.  Don't you appreciate the
power of discipline?" asked Garry, who could tell the kid wasn't really
interested in wrongdoing.  Regardless, he let his rough hand slide up the
boy's young cheek, and his fingers combed through his shaggy brown hair
until suddenly gripping it tightly.  He turned Darren's face up so that he
could look into the teenager's eyes.

   "Thing about drugs is that they're much more powerful when the taker
doesn't know he's taking.  Especially roofies.  You were talking up a
storm...  not like now," said the man.  He reached down with his free hand,
out of Darren's sight, and turned the knob on the radiator, which started
to make a sort of knocking metal sound.  The kid wasn't sure what it was,
and he nibbled his lip in terror as the unpredictable male stood in front
of him and started to stroke his bulge.  He decided to make a peep, his
eyes watery and wide with fear.

   "I d - don't want to t-take any drugs...  I want to go home..  to my
bed..." he squeaked out, his voice wavering.  He was so uncomfortable laid
across the heating unit, and the firm front of his body was striped like a
sweater where the metal dug in.  He didn't realize, though, that the
radiator was starting to heat up.  Garry laughed and, not answering the
boy's helpless plea, he unzipped his jeans and hauled out his hefty, erect
penis, pulling his fat and loose nutsack out along with it.  His genitals
were thick, and the middle of his cockshaft was bloated as if someone stuck
an air pump in and squeezed a few times.  Darren watched, his jaw open in
disbelief as he witnessed the first cock he had seen that wasn't his own -
it looked hairy and threatening, staring him in the face with one drop of
moisture on the tip.

   The teenager struggled to think of something to say, but came up short
of any answer that would not result in a whipping, the kind of whipping his
father used to administer for a transgression as innocent as tracking a few
dead leaves into the house.  He was noticeably fighting in his head for
something to say, and babbled something out that the man couldn't decipher.
Garry was overjoyed by the reaction, and began to stroke his greasy, uncut
member.  His crotch was hairy, but he trimmed it at times simply because he
couldn't deal with the forest of fur that developed after a few weeks.  The
trimmed hair was enough, though, to hold the musk of a few days' worth of
sweat, and Darren could smell it from his position on the warming metal.

   Garry was hungry for the feeling of a wet mouth around his filthy dick,
and so he bumped the leaking tip right against the boy's mouth, squeezing
his cock forward and causing the foreskin to bunch up right at the kid's
sweet little lips.  Darren was revolted and scared, so he pursed up his
pink mouth tightly with no intention of letting in the grunting man's meat.
His closed mouth meant that he could only breathe in through his nose,
inhaling the scent of the man and causing a chemical reaction in his young
mind that made his teenage penis fatten up a bit.  His helpless groan as
the handcuff bit into his shaft caused his mouth to open slightly, which
was enough for Garry to wedge in his skin-covered cocktip and start
pressing into the boy's wet mouth.

   Darren's eyes opened even wider than his mouth when he felt that warm,
musky skin on his tongue, and more of the thick meat being pushed between
his lips.  "Good fuckin' boy," grunted Garry, figuring some praise might
make him a more willing dick-taker, though he didn't expect any of it to
come easy to him.  By now the teen could feel the heat, and just as his
tongue started to get soaked in dribbling precum, he realized that this
radiator was getting hotter and hotter under his smooth body.  He started
to move back and forth, to take off some of the strain, but Garry was
tightly holding his head as he started to fuck his mouth.

   "Hehe, thing takes a few minutes to get started, but this old piece of
shit can still reach almost two hundred fahrenheit after all these years.
You better start sucking a little harder or you'll be taking my cum while
your nips get sizzled off," spoke the deep voice of the hairy man.  Darren
was looking up to him for some pity, even as he tightened his lips around
the cock and started to tongue the underside desperately.  Garry looked
down at the kid with a cruel smile on his face, fucking his fat cock deeper
and poking the helmet of his member right into the boy's throat.  He still
had about three inches left to ram down the kid's throat, but he didn't
want to spoil his own fun all at once.

   He thrust in and out as Darren squeaked and squealed, eyes once again
leaking tears.  The metal was now as hot as black pavement on a sunny day,
and Garry enjoyed watching the kid's butt tighten as he attempted to keep
his cock between the two increasingly-hot bars that it was wedged between.
Still, he could feel his sensitive skin getting too hot to handle, and he
cried intensely as the pain on the front of his body increased and
increased.  Just as he became sure he would be suffering from third-degree
burns directly to his most private part, Garry stiffened and his wet cock
began to belch cum.

   The sticky white sperm dribbled out at first, but the boy knew what was
going on, and could tell the man was having an orgasm by his grunts and
moans.  His thick hand moved back down to grip Darren's hair, and the cum
spurts became more copious and gooey.  Every rope of pearly white
stickiness shot either onto his tongue, or right down the back of his
throat.  Though Garry loved the feeling of the mouth as he orgasmed, he
managed to pull himself out just in time to spray a few healthy jets of
seed across Darren's weeping young cheeks.  He stood there panting, even
while the teenager squirmed and cried for him to turn off the heater.  Now,
the temperature had conducted itself through the metal handcuffs, and the
ring around his genitals was starting to become red-hot.  Mercifully, the
man finally squatted next to the metal appliance and unlocked the cuff from
the lithe teen's cock and nuts, giving them a tight squeeze as he did it.

   Darren quickly rolled right onto the hardwood floor with a thump, the
entire front of his milky-white body turned a bright fiery red.  He groaned
and lay spread-eagled, thankful for the cool night air that earlier was
making him shiver.  Garry watched from above him, a smile on his face as
his cock became flaccid and hung there, dribbling the white sperm it had
just finished puking up.

   "You sucked pretty nice, boy.  You learned how not to get burned
today... although a little late," he grinned, looking over as a sizzle was
heard and noticing a stray rope of cum that had landed on the metal
contraption.  The heat was causing it to bubble and vaporize.  Darren
sobbed and closed his eyes tight, his limp penis looking a bit red and
agitated but not quite as severely as his body.  The older male made to
leave, standing in the doorway and peering in on the nicely-built teen.

   "I wouldn't leave the house if I were you - or the room, for that
matter. My dogs are trained to fuck, THEN kill, and I wouldn't be surprised
if they were a little overeager after this long," muttered the man with a
tinge of satisfaction in his voice.  His mind did not doubt that the boy
would stay in the room, alone and with a small dirty mattress, until he
came to find him next.

   After the door closed, the sore teenager crawled his way over to the
spring mattress, the again-dark room filling with heat, and the handcuffs
starting to glow red as they remained hanging from the bar.  He laid on his
back, his long and smooth limbs spread out wide so he could avoid the
feeling in his skin, almost like mild sunburn.  Crying softly, the nude boy
looked out the window at the moon, and struggled to fall asleep.

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   Thanks for reading.  I may continue this if the mood strikes me.  If you
liked it and want a part two, send me an email at dangauthor@gmail.com