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5.a: Video : the nude beach
After another week where Sir had only inspected me, I was blazing with horny frustration. On Monday, when I scanned that week’s code, I was hoping the next video would involve something, anything, to take the edge off.
“GET SATURDAY OFF WORK. SCAN AGAIN FOR INSTRUCTIONS AFTER 9 AM SATURDAY.”
Well, that’s an inconvenience! Does Sir expect me to re-arrange my life around his…
The thought broke off in my head. Yeah, I guess he does. I guess I asked him to.
It involved a bit of wrangling, but I managed to get Saturday off without having to fake a sick day. It involved using up some lieu time I had banked and a couple minor lies to a co-worker.
I wouldn’t normally have been up so early by choice on a Saturday, but between the horniness keeping me awake and curiosity over what I’d be doing, I was up and ready to scan the code right at nine, cup of coffee in hand.
“YOU ARE GOING TO WEST POINT BEACH. TAKE A TOWEL BUT DON’T BRING A SWIMSUIT. DO NOT BRING YOUR BIKE.
“QR CODE WITH FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS ON POST WHERE PATH SPLITS HEADING TO THE BEACH.”
West Point! I knew about it, of course – the city’s notorious nude beach. But of course I’d never been there. I guess now it was going to happen. At least it’s a place where people expect you to be naked. But I’d still be flaunting my chastity cage in public.
The beach was on a small island off downtown, so it was a bit of a trek to get there, including a short ferry trip. Although it was the start of October, it still felt like a late summer day, so there was a healthy crowd heading across. I figured most of the people were just going to the big park on the island, but I still looked everyone over and wondered what they would look like on the nude beach.
When we docked at the island, about two-thirds of the crowd took the path to the main part of the park, the rest going to the more distant stretches that included West Point. Although it was a sizable crowd when we got off the ferry, the island felt pretty empty once the crowd started dispersing, especially compared to how crowded it could be on a full-on summer weekend.
After about a five-minute walk, I reached the spot where the path to the nude beach split off, and I saw the signpost the text had mentioned. There was a plastic sign zip-tied to it that read BEACH HOUSE CLOSED FOR SEASON. Strolling past it, I saw the QR code on the side of the post, but instead of stopping I veered off the path and went and sat down at a nearby picnic table, setting down the duffel bag with all of my supplies with a clunk.
From being in the park before I knew that most of the foot traffic came in waves with each ferry load and then would be quieter. I wasn’t sure what my instruction were going to be, but I decided to wait a few minutes to let any stragglers from my ferry get past me first.
I checked my phone, then leaned back and tried to appreciate nature for a couple minutes. In any event, it was nice to be out here – I didn’t come to the island often enough. It felt like this would maybe be the last nice weekend to go to the beach. I felt a pleasant sense of calm.
I was about to go and scan the code when I heard voices approaching, so I stayed put. Four men came down the path – obviously they weren’t rushing to get over here from the ferry. They were all middle-aged, possibly two couples, though that wasn’t totally clear. They were clearly in a boisterous mood, having a loud debate about some TV show or other as they walked past me. One of them looked over at me as they walked by.
“We’re going to the beach!” he said. “You should come join us!”
I felt something like a flush of embarrassment. Was I being picked up? Or was that just a friendly invitation to hang out… at the nude beach. In the nude.
“I… might be down later,” I said as they moved past me. I wondered to myself if something… interesting could have happened even if I didn’t have a mission here. Then I laughed at myself for using the word “mission” to describe my purpose.
In any case, I waited a few minutes for them to get along, and then I figured I better get moving before I’d have to start worrying about the next ferryload of people. So I went over and scanned the QR code.
“GET UNDRESSED HERE. PUT CLOTHES IN BAG. WALK TO THE BEACH. GO TO THE FAR END PAST THE THIRD LIFEGUARD TOWER
“PICK A SPOT NO MORE THAN 20 FEET FROM SOMEONE ELSE. PUT OUT YOUR TOWEL.
“LAY ON YOUR BACK AND GET SOME SUN FOR AT LEAST 20 MINS. INSTRUCTIONS FOR VIDEO WILL FOLLOW.”
So… all of this, and that’s all before getting to my assignment?
I was used to getting undressed on command by now, so I felt okay even as I realized wasn’t in the designated nude beach area. Even as I was pulling my pants off I could have just been someone eager to get down to my swimming trunks, not some guy getting undressed in a public park.
Well, it’s not like I haven’t been nude in a park already! But this felt different… Bakırköy Escort anyone could come down the path at any second. Having already stuffed my shoes in my duffel bag first, I proceeded to pack in the rest of my clothing… and with one last look around me, slipped off my underwear. I quickly held my camera at arm’s length and snapped a picture, sending it off before I started walking down the path.
I had never been this way before, so I was surprised that it was a bit more of a hike than I expected. The path led into a thickly-wooded area (heh heh… thick wood) which I guess was to protect prudish eyes from naked bodies. And then, after a couple minutes, I came up to a sign just before a sharp bend in the path.
WARNING! THERE MAY BE NUDE BEACH USERS BEYOND THIS POINT.
I looked down at myself. Then I stepped past the sign, feeling legit yet still somehow exposed.
The beach area was quite large, and it wasn’t too busy. The first zone on entry here had a few people, mostly couples on blankets closer to the water by a lifeguard tower. It was unattended this late after the regular season, with signs telling beach users that they were here at their own risk. Looking off in the distance for the further lifeguard towers, I strolled along the boardwalk that roughly divided the sandy beach from the wooded buffer zone.
After a couple minutes I was walking past the second of the towers. This part of the beach was pretty much empty, but I could see more people further along. As I came up to the third tower, I realized that all the beach users here were men. By some informal agreement, this must be accepted as the gay part of the beach.
For the first time since I undressed I had that sensation of eyes on my body, and indeed, a few guys nearby not-so-subtly turned their heads to check me out as walked by. I felt a bit of a flush as I walked down past the lifeguard tower. Then, without trying to look too obvious, I tried to triangulate a spot that was as far away from everyone else as possible while still following my instructions. By using the lifeguard tower as a blind of sorts, I picked a spot that was diagonal from a couple other towels. Out of the corner of my eye I recognized the quartet who had passed me heading into the beach.
Feigning a calm I didn’t feel, I spread out my towel and lay down on it, as if I were just someone stretching to get some sun. It was warm, though it lacked the harsh edge of summer sun which let me hope I wasn’t going to get a sunburn in some inconvenient spot.
I closed my eyes and rested. Listened to the waves and the wind and I must have drifted off, for the next thing I heard was someone clearing their throat.
I looked up and it was one of the guys from the party of four, looking down at me. His uncut cock nestled in a thick nest of public hair and I realized with a start I was staring at it and snapped my eyes up to catch what he was saying.
“…and anyway, if you want to come over an join us for a while, we can…”
Just then I felt my phone buzzing against my chest.
“Ah, maybe in a bit,” I said, giving him a forced smile. “I have to… take care of something first.”
Although that must have sounded weirdly lame, he nodded and smiled back as he turned away. I checked the message on my phone.
“THERE’S A PATH BEHIND THE BOARDWALK JUST EAST OF THE TOWER. TAKE THE PATH TO THE CLEARING.
“FIND QR CODE ON NW CORNER OF BUILDING AT FAR END OF CLEARING”
Feeling super-conspicuous once more, I grabbed my stuff and walked back past the lifeguard tower to the boardwalk. Indeed there was an informal path there, barely visible unless you were looking for it. I pushed through the underbrush and moved back through the woods. In only thirty seconds or so I came to the clearing.
There was a building here that must have served beachgoers in another era. A snack bar or pavilion of some sort, I’d guess, but it had clearly been closed for decades. The walls were covered with graffiti, and as I headed towards the near corner of the building I realized, as I stepped over an empty poppers vial, that this must be a cruising area.
Around the building’s corner, away from the clearing, I found the QR code, the sticker standing out new and bright on the worn-down wall and scanned it.
“FIND EXTRA SUPPLIES IN BAG UNDER RAILING HERE.
“LOCK BAG WITH CLOTHING TO SAME RAILING
“AT BACK OF BUILDING BETWEEN WINDOWS, FIND EYE HOOKS FOR LOCKING.
“ABOUT 10 FEET FROM THAT SPOT, FIND CROOK IN TREE WITH RED RIBBON ATTACHED. SET CAMERA THERE.
“LEAVE BAG OF SUPPLIES UNOPENED AT YOUR FEET
“LEFT HAND IN HANDCUFF, LOCK IT TO LEFT EYE HOOK
“PUT HANDCUFF KEY AND PADLOCK KEY ON SHACKLE OF TIME LOCK. ATTACH PADDED CUFF ON RIGHT WRIST TO TIME LOCK + LOCK TIME LOCK TO RIGHT EYE HOOK.
“PUT ON BLINDFOLD BEFORE LOCKING.
“SET TIME LOCK TO 60 MINUTES.
An hour?! And wait, what was that about a blindfold?
Getting to work, I found Bakırköy Escort Bayan a bag taped underneath a railing a couple feet away. I looked inside, and there was a bondage-style blindfold… maybe the same one I wore in the tub at the poker night when all those men pissed on me. There was also an opaque ziplock bag that had USE THESE written on it. I grabbed everything, then pulled the camera, locks and handcuffs from my bag with my clothing and locked it in place there, remembering to put my phone in before locking it up.
Going back along the wall facing the clearing, I found the spot between the boarded-up windows. Once more, there were a couple shiny new eye hooks a couple feet above my eye level. Leaving the USE THESE bag on the ground in front of where I would be standing, I turned and looked for the tree, and a flash of red caught my eye immediately. It was a perfectly-chosen spot, as I could set the camera there and point it at where I was supposed to be and it would film that and a lot of the open area of the clearing… but it was quite concealed unless you were looking for the camera there. Tearing off the bit of red ribbon that had caught my eye, I started the camera and set it in place.
Getting myself locked was the usual ordeal, with the added wrinkle of having to pull the blindfold over my eyes after I locked my left arm, and then grasping around blindly to find the hook, and thread the time lock through it. I’d set the timer before starting everything, so all I had to do once it clicked shut was to press the button that started the countdown.
An hour. Jesus fuck.
It didn’t take more than a couple minutes before I realized I wasn’t going to be spending a lot of time wondering if anyone would see me like this. Quite clearly, this spot was chosen precisely because I would be seen. This was made obvious when I heard voices coming toward me, from the same path I had used to enter the clearing.
The breeze carried over to me the familiar scent of pot smoke, reaching me before the guys made it into the clearing proper. Or at least that seemed the most likely chain of events, as the background conversation suddenly stopped as one voice said, “Well, I think that’s new.”
“What do we have here? A dare?” asked the second voice.
By this point, they had crossed the clearing and it seemed like they were standing in front of me.
“And what’s in here?” There was a rustle, and I assumed they were opening the mysterious bag I had been instructed to leave at my feet.
“Maybe it’s an art project?”
“I guess we’re supposed to participate.”
Neither of them seemed disposed to actually talk with the blindfolded man handcuffed to the wall in front of them, so I followed their cue and kept silent, my mind busy trying to process what they were seeing.
Then I was being touched on my belly, in a weird way. Are they poking me?
Then the sharp smell hit me, and once my mind identified it, it all fell into place. It was a marker! Unwittingly, I had just invited whoever came into the clearing to write whatever they wanted on me.
Once more, that set off the feelings of exposure and vulnerability I had felt before on these assignments… but this was amped up somehow. This was very up close and personal, and I felt very much not in control of the situation.
One guy laughed at whatever his friend was writing. Then after a pause there was a slightly different pressure, up and a bit more on the side, above my ribs. The other friend laughed.
Satisfied with that bit of vandalism, they moved back and I could guess that they were taking some pictures of their handiwork. Then, still without addressing me, they retreated to the opposite corner of the clearing to finish their joint.
They left the clearing, and it was very quiet, except for the birdsounds around me and far-off sounds of boats on the water.
Over the next stretch of time, there were a couple more variations on that interaction. Guys, usually in pairs, would come into the clearing area. They’d spot me, and laugh as if I were a sort of entertainment. Two more guys wrote on me, and none of them bothered to try and talk to me. They they’d finish doing whatever they came here for in the first place. One guy just had to take a piss in the bushes, but it seemed like most guys came here for drugs or sex – or both.
Which is to say I don’t totally know what it sounds like when guys are doing bumps of coke, but that definitely seemed to be happening, and there were definitely the sounds of one guy giving someone a blowjob – and then later, two other guys fucking. I’m pretty sure that the latter pair were from the group I had seen on the beach, and they definitely seemed to be into having a captive audience, as the guy getting fucked was leaning against the wall right beside me as his partner slammed into him from behind. I could hear it, and it was so close that I could even smell it. Unsurprisingly, it turned me on immensely, and my Escort Bakırköy cock was dripping and straining against its enclosure.
After the top had come, I was addressed for the first time as he tapped at my cage. “Naughty boy! Obviously, you’re not allowed to get hard!” And with a laugh, they too wrote something on my body with the markers before leaving.
There was a bit of a longer gap before I heard someone coming again. After the way I had been treated so far, I was surprised when he walked right over to me and addressed me directly.
“Oh, honey… are you all right? I mean, I assume you’re here by choice, but you’re not in over your head, are you?”
I recognized the voice… it was the guy who had given me the friendly proposition back by the lifeguard chair. I felt a burst of gratitude.
“Yeah… no. I mean, it’s okay. I’m okay,” I managed to babble back to him.
A hand started to run up my side and over my nipples. “Well, okay… but let me know if I should stop, then, or even if you need help to get out of here.”
And with that, he stopped talking, because his mouth was soon occupied with kissing me on the lips.
This was… unusual. It wasn’t something I did with men. This was… and here my mind paused for a moment… gay.
Part of my mind stopped and gave me a questioning look at that. With everything I’d been up to for the past couple months, it was strange to take something almost wholesome like this and label this as gay. Another part of my mind was abandoning that line of thought as he stuck his tongue in my mouth.
Just like the couple that had been fucking beside me, I was suddenly aware of the scent of this man, and the presence of his body against mine, invading me in a very gentle but persistent way. I realized I was turned on immensely. Without really noticing, I suddenly discovered I was kissing him back.
It was almost like high school again, with the deep excitement of making out. Only it wasn’t with a girl this time. While we kissed, one of his hands was constantly touching my body, moving across it with patient eagerness. And from the motion beside me that I could sense, he was jerking off with his other hand.
Somehow, all of this turned me on a lot. This was really different from everything that had been happening to me. Softness and tenderness has not been a part of my sex life lately, and finding it here, of all places, was wholly unexpected.
But it still moved in the same direction I was used to. After a fairly long interval of the make out session and touching, the guy grunted, and I felt a sudden burst of wetness below my belly button as he ejaculated on me. That turned me on so much I thought I might come in my cage myself, but I could only strain in frustration as he disentangled himself from me.
“Well, thank you,” he said, as I heard him zipping up his fly.
“No, thank you. That was quite nice.”
“I have to admit it really turns me on, seeing you being all dirty like this. I didn’t think you were the type when I saw you on the beach, but I guess you can never tell who is, right?”
There was a pause as he seemed to be shifting his clothes back into place.
“Um, I really have to ask… and you can say no if you want, but… can I take your picture like this?”
“It’s okay,” I mumbled. “A bunch of guys already have since I’ve been here.”
A few seconds later I heard a few of those fake shutter sounds from his phone as he snapped some shots of me.
“I’m guessing if you’re doing this you’d be turned on by seeing yourself. What’s your number? I’ll send you my pictures.”
Not feeling like I should tell him about the camera over in the tree recording all of this, I gave him my number. He gave me a quick peck on the lips and he departed.
Wow… that somehow really made this all worth it. Feeling the warm autumn sun on my body, I felt quite relaxed. And, unusually for these assignments, I wasn’t even wondering how much time was left on my timelock. In fact, I was sort of just pleasantly daydreaming until I heard someone else coming into the clearing.
From the sounds of him approaching, it seemed like he was alone, but he spoke as if he was with someone. “What have we got here? Looks like this fag is in some sort of trouble.”
And then his hands were on me. I could tell right away that he was not interested in the sort of gentle touching I had just experienced. And then, the darkness in my eyes was filled with bursts of color as he pinched my nipple, hard. And then the other nipple, slowly twisting it like a boy scout out to show some unwitting dupe what a purple nurple was.
“Urmph.” Involuntarily, I muttered from the unexpected pain.
“Ah, shut up, fag, or I’ll do something to really hurt ya.” As if to demonstrate, he flicked my balls, and I felt a different kind of pain-burst. This time I managed to cut off my reaction.
“Yeah, that’s better.” He went back to twisting my nipples, now both at once. And though it was an intense stinging, I clenched my mouth shut.
“I can see ya like the rough stuff,” he said, his hand now running over my caged cock. Just like I was surprised to have reacted to the last guy kissing me, I was surprised when I realized my cock was indeed pushing hard against the cage.
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