Sexy Gay Stories - Volume Five - three m/m short stories

with one hand and used the other to press a pain point under the guy’s nose.
    ‘Want to apologise now?’ said Bobby.
    The guy tried to struggle, but of course he was trapped. Bobby sensed a hand reaching toward him from behind, one of the white guy’s friends. He kept the lock on the guy’s throat but whirled his other arm back and elbow-smashed the second guy in the nose, turning it into bloody pulp. The guy went down and lay there moaning and coughing blood.
    Bobby still had the first guy firmly in his grip. The girl said, ‘Let him go. Please.’
    The guy had stopped struggling, and the girl had asked nicely. Someone else spoke up, ‘You’ve kinda made your point, fella. How about letting him go?’ 
    Bobby released the hold. The guy staggered forward, then reached under his jacket and pulled out a knife. He held it like he knew how to use it and was looking for an opening to come into Bobby, choosing the moment for his attack. 
    Now Bobby was furious, red in the face and boiling. He should have snapped this guy’s neck! It took a deliberate effort to centre himself, draw a deep breath, focus and become calm. Then he smiled and said, ‘Sometimes boys play with knives ’cause they think their dicks are too small.’
    That did it. The guy lost control and lunged forward, so it was easy for Bobby to lock his wrist and twist him down to the floor. Then he took the knife out of the guy’s hand and slipped it under his belt.
    Now he let his anger out. ‘Where do you want me to fuck you? Here or outside? Want me to do it in front of your friends?’ 
    The white guy struggled and cursed and told his friends to get this guy. No one moved. They were scared of Bobby, of course, and fascinated by what was happening.
    Bobby decided to take the guy outside, where it would be easier to keep from being jumped, in case any of these other guys did decide to make a move.
    He twisted the guy’s arm behind his back, jerked him to his feet and pushed him to the back of the bar, then outside into the alley. Then he let him go. As the guy started to run away, Bobby kicked him just inside the top of his thigh, the point the Thai boxers use to paralyse a leg. The guy went right down. He was completely helpless and terrified, his eyes huge with fear.
    Bobby unzipped his fly and pulled his dick out. ‘This seem small to you?’ He began to massage it. Getting hard would take a little work because this guy didn’t appeal to him at all. He had to summon up an image of the power in his lower centres and direct it to his cock. Soon it was swollen and red and throbbing.
    ‘Now,’ said Bobby, ‘Do you think this is a small dick?’
    The guy didn’t answer.
    ‘You’d better tell me,’ said Bobby. ‘You’d better tell me what you really think. Is this a little Asian dick? Tell me!’
    ‘No’ said the guy. Even saying this single word, his voice shook.
    ‘You think I could work you over with it?
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘It’s a beautiful dick, beautiful and strong, isn’t it?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Too beautiful to get dirty in your filthy asshole,’ said Bobby. ‘So now you know you shouldn’t be prejudiced about people.’
    Then he left. In a while, the white guy would be able to get back to his feet. He wouldn’t want to fight again that day, but there was always tomorrow and guns. Bobby never went back to that bar, but he was glad he’d done what he did.
    Bobby had had reason to be violent that time, but the violence was in him always, looking for ways to get out. Sometimes it happened when he meant to have fun.
    Bobby loved martial arts and was always trying to learn more. Browsing around on YouTube one day he found videos about hojojutsu, the Samurai art of tying people up. He was particularly intrigued by the clips showing different ways of getting the rope on your opponent as you wrestled him. He ran these over and over, studying them, memorising every move. Hojojutsu was used in olden times for taking prisoners for ransom or questioning. Of course Bobby had another use in mind for this ancient art.
    He cruised S&M sites and found plenty of guys who wanted to be tied up. What he really needed, though, were guys who would resist. 
    That Saturday night was warm. the bars were loud and packed but he didn’t see anyone he really wanted. One guy who said, ‘hi, guy,’ to him had a gym boy’s pumped up muscles but his eyes said he was weak, too weak to be much fun. Bobby was polite but slipped away and left the