BarbarianSpy Xtreme: Contains rough gay sex, domination, bondage, DP, gangbangs, fisting, and barebacking.
American Princeton student, Nathan Cassatt, travels to the South Pacific for a junior summer trip plying the islands on tramp steamers in search of new and more taxing sexual adventures with men. Wanting to improve his French, he gravitates to French men. The mixed French and Maori hunk, Etienne, picks Nathan up in New Caldonia and takes him on a tramp steamer to Fiji, where he robs and abandons Nathan. Temporarily financially destitute, Nathan looks for, and immediately finds a new supporter in the older, French short story writer, Christophe Fortier. Fortier writes edgy fetish gay male short stories for rich private collectors in Europe. He takes Nathan on to help embellish the stories he’s writing through being able to describe the emotions and physical experience of having actually been taken in the ways and circumstances Fortier writes about, from couplings Fortier arranges for Nathan.
As the two continue on with a tramp steamer sail toward American Samoa, with French Polynesia as a goal, Nathan is indoctrinated into just about as much taxiing and rough sex as he can endure.
Fortier has booked on the tramp steamer, Pitcairn, paying for their passage by making Nathan’s body available to the imposing and cruel Scandinavian ship’s captain, Thorensen, and to all the crew. What they subject Nathan to expands his sexual experience and feeds into Fortier’s short stories.
Meeting another American student on the steamer, Austin, trapped into the same situation as Nathan is—opens Nathan to new sexual possibilities. This is then augmented by meeting up with Noah, a busker at Circular Quay in Sydney—who opens Nathan’s eyes to an entirely new aspect of sexual pleasure at the end of an unforgettable south seas adventure.
“My stories are based on observation and experience. That is where men like you and Etienne come in. That is why I might be offering you support until you can regain your finances. I know now, knowing the family you come from, that you will regain your finances. But in the days before you can do that . . . this isn’t Philadelphia or New York. I know that eventually you’ll be set up again—through contact with an American Express office, and there are a few scattered around on the South Pacific Islands. But—”
“You said you might be offering support. You already offered it before.”
“I must be sure. For me to support you—I’m not made of money as you are—I must have compensation. Inspiration for my stories. Observed experience. Do you understand?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Observed experience may not be accurate. I write from observation, yes. But I write more from my own experience. What I have done myself—what I have done to young men like you. What I have men I bring in to do to young men like you—that I observe and usually participate in. It’s why I asked you if you could take an extra-large cock—and maybe two at once. Do you understand what I’m telling you? I write for a highly sophisticated, demanding, and searching audience. I don’t write vanilla stories. Have you ever had two men working you over at once—hard?”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just shrugged.
“How far into the story have you read on the computer screen? Did you read of the sex on the beach?”
“No. I’ve read of how provocative and sensual you made the dancing at the beach party.”
“Read on,” he directed. As I turned my face to the computer screen, I heard and felt the unzipping of my shorts. He gripped my cock, skin on skin, and started a slow stroke as I read. I looked around, in shock, afraid that we were being observed. But this was a gay resort. I’d seen men fucking in the lobby and no one had intervened.
In the story, a complete departure from what really happened, Etienne was coaxing me out onto the beach, beyond the fringe of the lighting from the beach party, where the moon shining off the lapping waves on the beach provided the light.
“This isn’t as it happened,” I muttered.
“You went to your hotel room,” Fortier whispered. “The story had to extend from what I observed. I had to capture where it might go. That’s why you’re reading this. I need to know how authentic it is—how natural the progression is. Location isn’t all that important, although the readers will be more aroused by a beach at night than a hotel room. It’s one reason why I asked you about the size of Etienne’s equipment and how easily you took it. Why I asked about Etienne’s fetish. You didn’t have time to find out Etienne’s fetish? I have to know if my development beyond my ability to directly observe was authentic. And I have to know if you would go where the Etienne of the story took you.”
I moaned as I read on in the story.