I'm neither a masochist nor a sadist, but like all of us, I suppose I'm rather a complicated mixture of the two. Still, there's a very fine line between pleasure and pain, and I crossed it many times three summers ago. I got myself into a situation from which it seemed impossible to extricate myself.

Ever a loner, I was working on my tan on a secluded beach on the south-east coast of Italy, where the men seem to be more primitive and are usually bi-sexual. They love to do with you what they would never even dream of asking their wives to do. You don't get much tenderness, but you sure as hell get to do a lot of fucking and sucking. At twenty five, I knew I should be settling down soon, but for me playing the field and taking risks had always been part of the fun of being gay. Finding sex in the most unlikely places and with the most unlikely people. I've had the best of times with complete strangers: doormen, firemen, night porters, truck drivers, lift boys, bus boys, waiters, desk clerks, schoolteachers, office managers, construction workers, telephone technicians, even mailmen. There's usually an available butt or dick, or both, waiting round every corner. You just have to be aware of that and not let a trick slip through your fingers. I did that once and regretted it. In fact I used to dream of him often and kick myself for not having pursued him. Instead I went to a Shirley Bassey concert. I was late for the show and was about to grab a cab when I saw him out jogging. We exchanged looks as he ran into the park in front of my hotel. He stopped beside an oleander bush and waited for me to join him. I chose Shirley Bassey. She was great, of course, but I still see him standing there with his longer than long legs and his shorter than short shorts. He was everything I'd ever wanted for Christmas, and I never unwrapped the package.

So that summer I was determined to try whatever Italy had to offer, and in particular, "the fruits of the sea," as a very camp friend of mine used to put it. My first piece of fruit was very juicy indeed. He was more mature than what I'm used to. Must have been thirty or so, but he was obviously ripe for the plucking. Or so I thought. He was in a tractor, levelling sand. It was very hot so he was wearing next to nothing. One of those loose tank tops open at the side, even looser shorts and heavy boots. His body was toasted and tanned from working outdoors, and his hair bleached by the sun. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I could see right up his shorts as his brown muscular legs moved the pedals and right inside his top as he managed the steering wheel. No sign of his dick, of course, but the promise of those thick thighs together with the constant peeks at his pecs had my own dick burrowing a hole in the sand. Every now and then he'd throw a glance my way, and the sight of my bare butt humping the ground made him preen his body like a peacock.

Round about midday he stopped the tractor and got out. First he took off his top, and using it as a towel to wipe the sweat off his face, he then reached into the cab to get a bottle of water. He took a few swigs, then poured the rest over his head. I watched the drops of water make their fortunate way down his torrid torso, and then, to my absolute delight, he tore off his shorts and dived naked into the sea. His butt was like granite, and I supposed that his dick would be equally so, although I didn't get to see much of it as he was in the water in a flash. I decided to join him, hoping the cold water would dowse my dick and make its obvious pleasure less evident.

It turned out to be futile gesture, as almost right away he was swimming right beside me, and his hand reached out to grab me under the water. He was very strong, but actually I didn't put up much of a fight. He looked like Apollo, and I was an eager Daphne. He worked on my dick for a while, then tactically bit my shoulder so that while I was crying out in surprise and pain, he had time to enter me. Wow, what an entrance! I actually made a red carpet in the water with the blood from my ass. His dick really was like granite, just like the rest of him. We lunged and thrashed in the sea and my head was literally swimming. I choked and gasped and spluttered, but he was merciless. He put a granite grip on my distended dick, too, and didn't stop humping and thumping me until we came in a shivery shudder of water and cum. I remember thinking to myself that my semen looked like tadpoles in the water. Then I fainted.

When I woke up, I was in a kind of boathouse. The pain inside me was atrocious, but I knew that sooner or later I would want more. Nobody had ever fucked me like that before. Moreover, instead of saying how sorry he was, and offering me something to drink, he put his dick in my mouth. I gobbled and groaned to no avail, since he was just as ruthless as before, and wasn't satisfied until my mangled mouth was full of his salty cum. By now I really needed something other than his jizz to drink, but when I reached out for a glass of water, he took hold of the bottle and poured the entire contents down my throat. I made the mistake of rolling over to throw up on the floor, only to find he was working the neck of the bottle into my ass. Fortunately he stopped and laughed, and said that if I didn't want it down my throat, I was going to get it up the ass, or roughly the equivalent in Italian. I realized then that he was mean enough to do anything. Rather incongruously, he offered me a beer and a cheese sandwich. I accepted the beer gratefully, but couldn't manage the sandwich since my jaws were still sore from the savage onslaught of his big dick. I separated the cheese from the bread and nibbled it like a mouse. He laughed again, then started to get ready for work. As I heard the key turn ominously in the lock, sweet fantasy suddenly turned to raw reality. I knew in that instant that he actually intended to keep me as a sex slave!

I must have fallen asleep, exhausted as I was, and woke up to the sound of drunken voices. Once again I heard the key turn in the lock. He was back with a friend of his. I understood from their conversation that my tormentor's name was Angelo, and the visitor was called Riccardo. He was cute and had a good face. He was wearing overalls and looked a bit like Brendan Fraser in Gods and Monsters. To tell you the truth, I kind of liked him and was perversely looking forward to whatever was going to happen to me. In fact, I thought if I went along with them and gave them a good time, they might go easy on me. I saw they'd brought more beer with them, but I wasn't offered any this time. Well, at least not directly. First Angelo attached me to the cabin roof with a pair of handcuffs, and then poured some beer on his dick and stuck it into my mouth. He tried to get Riccardo to do the same, and he did, but it took a bit of persuading. I dutifully sucked my fill and licked their sticky dicks clean.

Riccardo's was uncut, just the sort I like. His balls were great, too, and I missed having the use of my hands because I wanted to get a good grip on them as I drained his dick. I could see by the size of it that he was really enjoying my administrations, so I set to work with gusto. He took another swig from the bottle, and let the rest pour down his chunky chest towards my open mouth. This gave me a chance to lick the rest of him and suck his nifty nipples. Once again I missed having hands as I would have liked to run them down his tight washboard stomach. I decided to use my tongue as a finger substitute, and this drove him absolutely wild. It didn't take Angelo long to realize that I'd have given him equal satisfaction if he'd only treated me more gently. He was hot, and he was jealous. Using more beer as a lubricant, he lost no time working his way into my ass. He was only half erect, so I could feel the hardness of him grow inside me.

I was heady with the beer and ready for more rough treatment. Now, though, I wanted it from Riccardo, who had just dropped his overalls and was standing stark naked in front of me. I just about flipped when I saw his marble butt. More beer came my way, and I bent over eagerly to lick his rock hard legs and drool over his dick. Angelo took advantage of the fact to enter me with full force just as his friend was turning round to replenish his supply of alcoholic lubricant so I got me another glorious glimpse of his magnificent butt. Drunk with beer and desire, and spurred on by the powerful pummelling Angelo was giving me, I made a mighty lunge for his awesome orifice, but was impeded by the handcuffs. I cried out to be set free, and in spite of Angelo's objections, we were able to have what is commonly known as a "gang bang." I got the chance to get my iron in that marble and to run my hands down his terrific front to the promontory that was his penis. He shuddered and sighed in full appreciation as I worked wonders with my manipulative fingers and my darting dick.

The fact didn't go unnoticed by Angelo, and he knew just how to punish me. I was past caring, however, and could only think of Riccardo. I could tell he felt the same way about me, and didn't at all approve of how I was being treated. In fact, when Angelo threw me disdainfully to the ground after reducing my ass to pulp and suggested Riccardo pick up where he'd left off, he started getting back into his overalls and said he'd had enough. They had a heated argument from which I gathered that Angelo intended to keep me prisoner a while longer and use me as a boy toy to satisfy his friends and even make some money from me. By now I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to get out of there alive, and was cold, scared and hungry. What's more, my butt felt sore as hell and was humming like an outboard motor. Angelo handcuffed my left hand to the boat and then threw some blankets in my direction. After he'd he turned out the light and locked the door, I heard their voices raised in anger as they walked towards the road. I was alone on holiday and nobody would ever know what had happened to me. Pathetically, I began to cry. This time I'd gone too far in my quest for sex and fantasy. I wrapped one of the blankets around me and sobbed myself to sleep.

Well me still being alive to tell the tale, I bet you can probably guess what happened. Trite as it sounds, in the middle of the night, Riccardo came back for me. I kissed him gratefully and that kiss almost lasted till dawn. We didn't have sex but enjoyed the natural wonder of touching each other and the sheer joy of being alone together. Later he took me to his car and back to the cabin where he lived. He put me under the shower and washed me clean of beer and of Angelo's abuse. He bathed my wounds, put a soothing lotion on my battered butt, tucked me up in bed, and kissed me tenderly good night, or rather good day. He had some warm bread and milk waiting for me when I woke up. Once again I was a slave, but this time to somebody I intended to love for ever. As you can imagine from his overalls, he was a automotive mechanic and a good one. I wanted to take him back home with me and find him a lucrative job, but he didn't really want to leave Italy, so I moved with him to Turin for a while. We eventually ended up in Sicily as we both missed the sea and the sound of water. We continued to drink beer, but always out of a glass, and never mentioned Angelo again, even though it was he who had inadvertently brought us together. From time to time I think of just how splendid the smug bastard looked on that tractor, and the risk I took seducing him. I also occasionally think of the guy I left standing next to that oleander bush before the Shirley Bassey concert, but no longer wonder if he was the guy for me. Now I know I was always looking for Riccardo.