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|Original upload: 2017-08-11 17:09:09 | |
Elder Gardner felt like his back was going to permanently fuse with the back of his chair. Heâd been sittingÂ in a stateÂ of fear and anxiety for what felt like hours.
President Ballard had called him in for a private meeting, questioning him about sex and his urges. Elder Gardner had never talked about this with anyone, not even his own parents. He felt uncomfortable talking about it knowing that the truth would land him in hot water.
The troubled young Mormon knew he was attracted to men. It was something heâd been avoiding and hiding for years. Fortunately, the church doesnât permit any sexual activity outside of marriage, so it never really came up.
But as he got older, those urges were getting harder and harder to keep locked away. And before this meeting, he thought he still had control over his secret.
But as the beads of sweat dripped down his neck, he knew his armor was cracking.
After denying his sexual preference for what seemed like hours, President Ballard asked if he would be willing to prove his honesty.
âYes.â The boy replied.
âGood. Take off your shoes,â Ballard ordered, sitting beside the nervous boy.
Gardner did as he was told, not sure of why, but just hoping that it would be a distraction from his interrogation.
When he finished, his priesthood leader told him to continue, removing his shirt and pants, all the way down to his sacred Mormon underwear, the lightweight material sticking to his lean body from his anxious sweating.
President Ballard had pressed the boy again and again on what he perceived was an underlying homosexual desire, but Gardner consistently denied those assertions.
Ballard had heard it all before, especially from boys who would ultimately be down on their knees begging for his cum. Besides, he couldnât help but notice Elder Gardner checking out the massive bulge in his pants throughout their entire interview.
âIâm now going to conduct a test,â the president continued. âGive me your hands, Iâm going to tie them behind your back.â
The older man took a soft, strong white rope and tied the boyâs wrists together behind his chair. Elder Gardnerâs heart raced, nervous about what this restraint will bring.
âNow Iâm going to ask you some questions, and I would like for you to be honest with me.â
The older man sat back down in his chair, pulling himself closer to the bound boy. He came so close that the boyâs knee stopped just inches from his crotch.
Gardner was becoming aroused, and realized that stripped down to his garments there was nowhere for an untimely erection to hide!
President Ballard began to rub his thighs, asking him if he likes it. If it makes him nervous. If it feels good.
Elder Gardner answered honestly, trying to keep his mind focused on not getting an erection. The constant touching and questioning played with his mind and body, twisting them into a strange blend of torture and sensuality.
President Ballardâs whispered tone and soft touches roused the boyâs penis, making it harder and harder. The handsome man saw this and offered no modesty by calling it out.
âOh dear. Youâre getting hard. Very hard.â
The older man licked his fingers and pulled out the swollen member of the trapped young man. Exposed and confused, Elder Gardnerâs heart pounded in his chest, seeming only to pump more blood to his erection.
Ballard stroked him and teased him more, telling him how he must like it if heâs so hard, and how wrong it was for him to enjoy being touched by a grown man.
All the while, the older manâs cock was dripping pre-cum, watching the young boy twist in his chair between physical pleasure and mental anguish.
Soon the questions became more pointed, asking him about how he masturbates, what he thinks aboutâŠ who he thinks about. Ballard kept Gardnerâs cock in his hand while forcing him to maintain eye contact. Between those two points, the President had the most accurate lie detector test imaginable.
With every tiny physical reactionâeach breath, each writhe, each time he swallowed his salivaâPresident Ballard questioned him on it, cornering him in where he could no longer deny how much he loved it.
âDo you think about boys when you touch yourself?â
âDo you think about older men when you touch yourself?
ââYou hesitated there. âŠI think you like thinking about older men touching you. I think you like that Iâm touching you. I think youâd like me to do more than just touch you.â
With that, the older man leaned in slowly, bringing his mouth so close to Elder Gardnerâs that he could feel the boyâs choppy, steamy breaths on his lips. He paused just short of making contact, watching the subtle behaviors of his captured prey.
The micro-expressions of desire in his face, the twitching of his bottom lip, aching to be touched, and the way his tongue glistened in his slightly opened mouth, preparing to be tasted.
âI donât think youâre being quite honest with me. Youâre getting harder as you get closer to my lips. I want you to be honest with me. Say, âyes, Sir, I like it.ââ
ââŠYes, sirâŠ I like it.â
President Ballard lifted it up the boyâs shirt as high as it could go while he was still locked to his chair. He lowered his garment shorts and unleashing the full girth and height of the boyâs rock hard cock.
Elder Gardner was visibly trembling, feeling his balls tighten as the strokes began to awaken a sensation from deep within his groin.
He knew he was getting ready to cum and did not know what to do about it. He knew he couldnât possibly cum in the presidentâs hand, but knew bound and teased as he was, he had no way to control itâŠ
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