Author: admin

  • Training the Submissive

    His balls laid on my eyes as his cock filled my throat. I fought to overcome my impulse to gag and was surprised that I could accommodate his thickness so deep inside me. Bob began a Slow, relaxed, methodical Fucking of my throat while I concentrated on breathing as he thrusted deep then pulled out; I gulped in air on each out-stroke. I was now slightly relaxed and became conscious of the saliva flowing out of my mouth like a waterfall. Bob had commented before on how pleasant it was listening to his suck-boy making loud, wet cocksucker noises. I sounded like a pig lapping up slop. Bob had said I could be a “great Cocksucker” and I was actually proud of myself. It took a while until I felt him tense up and spurted cum into my throat. He was just at the opening of my gullet as he let go. It was difficult to swallow and I’m sure he was enjoying the feeling of my throat muscles as they alternately contracted and relaxed as I sought to swallow the tremendous volume of viscous fluid being pumped relentlessly into me. “That’s it boy, swallow all that good man-cream into your stomach,” he grunted.

    “Ah, there’s nothing better than showing a cocksucker what he’s made for; at school you’ll love showing your own suck-boy how you want your cock serviced.”

    I was allowed enough time to drink a coke before I served Webb. It was all good.

    A few weeks later and Webb was off to University, Bob back to work; I was back with Kyle, naked and docile, just as he liked me.

    “Do you see it clearly now boy,” Master Kyle said to me as I licked his feet. “Submissive boys like you were put on this earth to serve powerful men like me. It’s nature’s way. We’re superior and we actually provide boys like you a favor by letting them serve us.”

    It was incredibly degrading but he was right. I was happy to be performing for him. It was the greatest honor ever bestowed upon me. Well, why not, I’m on my knees again, where I belong, and Kyle’s half soft cock is just beginning to harden now in my mouth. He smiles at me, watching my service intently, he knows I’m now a cockslut who loves worshipping him. My eyes keep watching his reactions and his knowing smirk makes me moan as he says, “I know you love feeling my cock grow in your mouth; it makes a suck-boy feel he’s doing a useful task.”

    The cock sucking noises cause Master’s dick to enlarge. “Look at you boy, slurping on my cock and loving it.” I heard Kyle say. “You do love it, don’t you?”

    All I could do was moan around his cock and shake my head yes. The monster in my mouth was getting too big for me to keep solidly in my throat in this position, so slowly but surely, I eased off of it, keeping the head completely surrounded in my wet mouth. I was happy and in my place.

    The next day found me again on my knees in the bathroom. Kyle was shaving while I lightly tongued his cock and balls. He abruptly pulled away and went over to the “special” lounge and laid down. “I’m in the mood to have my ass licked now. It relaxes me. This chair opens me up nicely for a tonguing. “

    “Yes, Master, I blurted out. “I moved in toward his smooth bubble butt. It smelled warm and good with heavy musty, male body odors. I started licking the hole and cleaned it good all around the outside. I concentrated on his wrinkled little rosebud and swabbed it up and down until I had cleaned it good. It tasted like Master Kyle’s big body smelled, clean and strong. I had never experienced so many new experiences so quickly before. My mind was spinning. I felt sad that I finished so quickly. Luckily Kyle had time and wanted more.

    “Get back down there, boy, you’re not through yet.” Kyle growled. “Get that tongue in that hole and clean it out good, slave-boy. I really did feel like a slave-boy as I spread his butt cheeks with my hands. I could clearly see his asshole now. “Get that tongue up there now as far as you can.” I did as he ordered. I licked between his wide-spread ass cheeks and sunk my tongue into his ass as deep as I could get it. He began to moan and move his butt to fuck my tongue with his ass. I cleaned every bit of his hole and loved it.

    What was happening to me? Just a few weeks before I wouldn’t have considered doing anything like that to anyone yet here I was cleaning out this man’s asshole. It was like it was the most natural thing in the world, Eating his ass like the first pig to the trough. I sucked the big man’s hole with pleasure. I guess it was time to stop asking myself stupid questions and let loose whoever-whatever was locked up inside me.

    Something broke inside me, another epiphany perhaps; I realized that I am the person whose tongue is eagerly licking an asshole. I’m a cocksucker, a slave, a thing created to be used by this man. I had been taught to lick an asshole, drink up cum and piss like it was the most natural thing on earth. I wanted nothing as much as to obey him and pleasure him in the way he wanted.

    “That’s good, slave, you did a good job. My hole hasn’t felt that clean in a long time.” You’re not a bad cocksucker” he said as he patted my head. I was now complete; this is where I belonged.

    “Well Son, I’m afraid it’s time for your ass-fucking. I usually prefer fucking a cunt but hell, today I just feel like it. Fighting it is only going to make it hurt and feel worse. Just relax,” he told me in a soft voice, as he gently stroked my back, Kind of like you would a pony. “Now try to enjoy it for what it is. I’ll take it nice and easy if you try not to fight it. I’ve found it important to break a boy’s cherry gently and slowly; then they always want their ass full of man-cock.”

    When he thought I was ready, he punched his cockhead thru the mouth of my asshole and just let it sit there as I gasped from the pain. He was stroking me and saying, “there, there, boy, take a breath, just relax.” It felt like there was a broomstick up my ass. My hole was doing steady spasms as that monster cockhead stretched it out and held it open, God it hurt.

    I felt him slowly withdraw his cock until only the head remained lodged just inside my asshole. He was waiting until I relaxed my ass a little before he started pushing back in. Each time I seized up, he would stop and wait for me to relax, all the while he continued his work with stroking my back and whispering encouragement in my ear, “there, there, boy, take a breath, just relax” Was his mantra to sooth me.

    He rubbed my back and said, “Take it easy now boy, it’s not long now. Keep your body straight, that’ll make it easier.” I then understood that he was not intending to hurt me, not at all: It was just the pain that was necessary to get where we were going. And then the head of his dick popped through the glorious tightness, and I felt a surge of pleasure and relief as the length of his cock finally entered me to its full length.

    Once I’d relaxed enough, he established a rhythm, sliding his cock slowly but firmly in and out of my nether hole. Here I was, a once normal man, on my hands and knees in front of this man with his cock shoved up my ass. I could tell that for Kyle this must be heaven as he pushed his cock all the way back inside my tight ass. Using both hands now to pry my ass cheeks open, he pulled his cock free with a loud plop as my well-used hole closed. He shoved his tool back into me and started banging my ass with a vengeance.

    My world had now narrowed to my asshole as it embraced his cock as he sawed in and out; He pushed me forward onto my elbows with each strong

    stroke. The room was filled with the squishing, squelching sounds of cock alternately filling and retreating from my ass. He was slamming into me for all I was worth.

    “I’m going to come inside you now Son, then you’re mine; your ass is going to feel empty without my cock from now on. I’m going to shoot it deep inside your ass now, get ready.”

    After a few more deep thrusts I could feel the warmth of his thick cum invading my asshole. To my surprise, yet another dazzling wave of pleasure pulsated through my rear and up through my back and belly.

    I had no idea of the time, I was just laying on the floor when he slid his sweet cock from my asshole. I felt myself remain open, stretched too far to return to normal quickly. It felt cool and open after his monster cock had been in me for so long. I couldn’t move right away and just panted on the floor, catching my breath. I heard him moan and roll onto his back and sigh.

    “Good job boy, now finish the job; clean my cock up.”

    I started to go for a towel. “No boy, use your tongue, always lick a man clean; it’s a measure of respect.”

    His cock had never looked like this. It was so wet and covered with all our fluids. I lowered my head to the head of his cock and began to work my tongue into his cum slit. He was a little startled, he was drained from so much cum leaving him. I didn’t mind what I tasted on him. There was just a little blood. It’s strange what you taste after a good assfucking. It’s a very different taste. I knew that my ass had produced its own lubrication for him just like my mouth hole when I was face fucked. From my ass it’s a bit thicker and tasted bitter but it mixed with his strong semen well. I was eager and willing to lick his cock totally clean to show my thanks and the musky taste tweaked my need for humiliation. My ass was his now, I was his, he truly was my Master.


    Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author, Dave at [email protected] any suggestions are welcome.

  • The Work Assignment

    Lance was on his third day, and he was seated at the desk in the corner, completely naked. His right ankle had been left chained to the floor but the ankle cuff on his was made from leather, so it was not bad. He had been here several hours, Marvin had given him a login and he was doing one of the things he did best, writing database code. He had gotten quite a bit done in the time he had been working on it. He had to admit to himself the past couple of days had been strange, he would never have believed such to be possible. He was sore from head to toe just about, but it was not overpowering, just present. After he had showered last night before bed, Marvin had put his cage back on him to leave locked nice a snug. 

    It was sort of a good thing; the soreness was a reminder of what had caused it and his body constantly wanted to respond to that. If possible, his dick would be hard continuously but that was just not possible wearing the cage. He had a nice computer to work with, and was coding away, and suddenly the lock mechanism on the door clicked. Lance did as Marvin had told him; he was to be down on his knees when inside the house and Marvin entered a room. He barely got into place as Marvin came in and stood very close with his crotch right in Lance’s face.

    Marvin looked at the computer screen and said, “Looks like you are making good progress. He reached down and grabbed Lance’s hair and pulled his face into his crotch. “Don’t resist that and get you some good deep breathes.”

    Not only did Lance not resist him, but he also even leaned in a bit more and it smelled fantastic to him. Again, his dick began to throb and try and get hard but again that cage prevented it.

    Marvin unlocked the ankle cuff and told Lance to follow him to the bathroom. Lance did and Marvin started some water and undressed. He was already excited somewhat and he looked at Lance and grinned.

    He said, “Into the shower, towards the back and place your hands on the wall above your head. Spread your legs some and leave those hands right where you place them, till I say otherwise. Don’t get in the water yet, again not till I tell you.”

    Lance said, “Yes, sir.”, entered the shower at the back, and took his place facing the wall. He got himself positioned just as Marvin had told him to.

    The big guy came in and stood right behind him, and he was close. So close that Lance could feel his hot breath on the back of his neck. He casually reached down and from behind grabbed Lance’s dick. He also took the time to put what looked like some kind of sturdy black elastic band around Lance’s ball sack. It was not tight enough to hurt all that much on its own, but it did have the effect of compressing them down and making them stick out behind him some. Marvin then reached over and retrieved a rod used to clean ones back, and used the handle of it which was made of white plastic to begin to tap Lance’s balls with it. Sort of easy and to let him know what was about to happen to him 

    This light tapping went on for a second and then Marvin hit him a bit harder and paused for the effect. In a moment Lance sunk down a little as the pain hit him, not too much, just the right amount. Marvin had been at this a while and knew, how to hurt someone without really causing lasting injury. This went on for a few minutes, when Lance would recover and get back into place, Marvin would begin to tap his balls and then at random times deliver a good smack again. When Marvin was finished, Lance knew now that his balls would be sore too. But that was okay, ahh this damn cage was annoying. 

    Marvin told him, “Turn around and get on your knees. There are rails on either side of you, take a hand and grab hold of them. That is exactly where those hands stay unless I say otherwise.”

    Lance got on his knees in front of the big man and reached and grabbed onto the rails on either side of the shower. Marvin reached down with his left hand and cupped Lance’s chin and tilted it up, so he was staring him in the face. Lance could clearly see that funny look around his eyes again, he was excited about something.

    He took his right hand and opened a little side door built into the shower, it was apparently for holding soaps, and shampoos and the like.

    He removed a bottle and told Lance, “Hold out one of your hands and cup it to get some of this. When you have it, use the soap, and slowly lather my dick up good with it.”

    Lance said, “Yes, sir,” as he obeyed and held his hand up. Marvin squeezed a liberal amount of the soap in the boy’s hand 

    Feeling Lance slowly lather his dick up felt good to Marvin, his dick tingled all over and it was a good tingle. He had no doubt he could let the boy just do this for a bit and he would be erupting cum all over the place. He had different plans though, and that would feel good too.

    Marvin told Lance, “Put your hands back on the rails and there they stay, unless I say otherwise.” He reached down and pointed the tip of his lathered and dripping dick at Lance’s mouth.

    Lance could see what was happening and had not considered something quite like this. It smelled wonderful, like a watermelon from a Jolly Rancher candy.

    Marvin said, “You have to be punished, for disobeying yesterday.”

    Lance asked, “Sir? I am sorry I was not sure I did something incorrectly.”

    Marvin moved a bit closer to him and said, “Once when you answered me you failed to call me sir and there is a zero-tolerance policy on discipline. Now open your mouth cocksucker and let’s get it nice and clean for you. 

    Marvin smiled as Lance obeyed and opened big and wide for him. The soap he was using now was specifically used for this, he bought it at the local sex shop. Then there was also the fact….

    Marvin pushed his dick deep into Lance’s mouth till he was at the opening of the throat. Lance had expected something that tasted horrendous, but it tasted just as it smelled, like watermelon. It was flavored and not bad at all he had not expected that. The big man slid his dick on down into Lance’s throat, not going too fast. But it damn sure was all going in there this time. Once he was all the way down in and this time there had been minimal gagging from the young guy. So, he grabbed Lance by the hair and started to push his head back and forth. This began to slide his dick back and forth, in and out of a Lance’s mouth and it felt wonderful to Marvin.

    The quality of Marvin’s voice had deepened, “Fuck yeah, suck that dick bitch.”

    This went on for a while and Marvin got some more soap from the little locker. This time he reached down and lathered himself up himself and pushed the head of his dick against Lance’s lips when he was ready. He opened and Marvin immediately went deep again and this time grabbed lance by the back of the head. It did not take long for Lance to figure out this was not watermelon flavor. It tasted rancid and Marvin held him steady and continued to throat fuck him.

    He told Lance, “That is just plain old dial, don’t worry, it is not toxic or will not make you sick. The point here is to learn to learn to enjoy sucking my dick, regardless of what the circumstance is. Do you like sucking that big soapy cock and feeling it slide in and out of your throat?”

    Lance let out an “Yum mm.” As Marvin continued to half push his head up and down and thrust his hips at the same time. He did this to him several times, with several different flavors. Lance never balked, even when Marvin knew it had to taste horrible, the boy obediently continued sucking his dick. It was beginning to feel good, and he was getting nice and hot.

    He pulled his dick out of Lance’s mouth and there was a loud kind of popping sound. Man, this young man could really suck some dick.      

    Marvin told him, “Stand up and walk forward till you are standing with the water from the shower-head hitting you in the face. Stop there and grab the rails again and wait. 

    Lance answered, “Yes, sir.”, he moved forward till the water was hitting him in the face and grabbed the rails. Marvin took two sets of handcuffs, out of the shelving, and secured each of Lance’s wrists to a rail. Then he moved behind him again and told him to raise his right leg straight up. As soon as he did Marvin grabbed it and angled it up and away from his body a little then held it where he wanted. Marvin had to bend at the knees a little, but he got positioned to where he could get every inch of himself up inside his new toy. He used some of the soap and lathered himself up again and put the head right against the hole.

    Marvin spoke into Lance’s ear, “What do you want me to do? I know you are a cock sucking slut that wants me to fuck them hard?”

    Lance said, “Yes, sir. I am yours, please fuck me as hard and fast as you like. I want you to use me to make yourself cum.”

    Marvin did not stand on ceremony and began to push up inside of Lance who was still sore from the pounding he had gotten yesterday. He moaned loudly but it did not make Marvin slow down, if this one was going to wear his brand, he would have to show he could take it. He took it well and before long Marvin was ramming his big dick in and out of Lance. Several times, in the beginning, and sometimes randomly till he came, he would pull it completely out and then stick it back in, then immediately ram it all the way in. 

    Lance was moaning now, and Marvin could tell he was enjoying it. For Marvin this was a given, and the sensation it created along the length of his dick was amazing. It was warm, tingled, so tight and Lance never once tried to interfere with what Marvin was doing to him. The big man really worked Lance’s ass over this time. He lasted longer this time than he did before, and he knew that hole would be sore for sure after this. He put his nose to the back of Lance’s neck and licked it then leaned in and smelled the back of his hair. Again, to Marvin, this young man smelled delicious, the thought of him being sore tomorrow and thinking of Marvin as he was, was almost intoxicating.

    Marvin reached around into the stream of water and found Lance’s mouth with his right hand, and he continued to steadily fuck him.

    Marvin snapped, “Open your mouth as wide as you can.”

    “Yes, sir.”

    Lance opened his mouth wide, and Marvin took his three center fingers and inserted them in his mouth deep. The suddenness of this action did cause Lance to gag a bit which made Marvin’s dick tingle even more. Marvin continued to fuck Lance getting a bit faster and going a little harder all the time. At the same time, he began to run his three fingers into Lance’s mouth will they got to the back of his throat.Then he ran them in and out for a while to continue to dull down his gag reflex. 

    In a few minutes, Marvin pulled his dick free and walked and ducked under Lance’s handcuffed left arm. He reached up and directed the water away from them and stood in front of Lance. He told him to open his mouth and spit in it a couple of times for the boy the swallow and then told him to get on his knees. Lance did as he was told, and Marvin began to jerk his dick right in front of his face. As he began to gain speed it was obvious that he was getting close.

    He told lance, “Open. 

    “Yes, sir,” and Lance opened his mouth wide.

    Marvin grabbed his chin and tilted his head up and added, “Stick your tongue out.”

    “Yes, sir,” Lance stuck his tongue out and Marvin situated his dick so that when he shot into Lance’s mouth, he would see the ropes of cum.

    Marvin looked down and felt his body light up with pleasure as his cock began to pump string after beautiful string of cum into the young man’s mouth. It was a powerful shot and most went into the back of the throat but some dangled down and layered onto Lance’s tongue.

    He said, “Oh, too fucking right! That feels fantastic and I can just do this to you over and over anytime I like.”

    Marvin had managed to shoot a big load of thick cum into Lance’s mouth. The young man began to struggle as he swallowed the thick liquid, but he was able to stay ahead of it and not a single drop was wasted. He finally managed to get it all down and got a pat on the head like a good doggie.

    Once finished, Marvin removed the handcuffs and they both showered in earnest.

    Afterwards, Marvin dressed in a pair of jeans and tennis shoes topped off with a tee shirt. He came out and joined his slave who was sitting on the bed. He had picked up a document carrier he had brought in with him and removed some of them.

    Once seated next to Lance, on the bed, he asked, “So, what do you think? I am not too concerned if you enjoyed it at all really, but you have made me cum several times. I like your looks; you are quite obedient. You are not the best cocksucker I have ever had from a technical standpoint, but you are learning. That tight ass of yours is a work of art and needs to be used quite frequently.”

    Lance sort of shuffled his feet, “I think, that I will serve you if you want me to. I did not know if I would like this, but I cannot say that I have ever been any happier then when I know I am making you feel good. Even at times when it does not feel so great for me, it is still hot, and I want more.”

    Marvin laid a packet on Lance’s lap and waited for him to open it. He gave him a few minutes to go through the pages and read them.

    He finally said, “That is a slave contract, which I expect you to sign and abide by if you want to stay. I will keep you around for the six months or so while we are working and use you, as sort of a test drive. If you work hard, do what I tell you to when I tell you to then at the end of the six months, I might give you a chance to be my slave for another time block. There are no guarantees, but work hard and just maybe. Got that?”

    Lance said, “Yes, sir.”

    Marvin went on, “There are a few absolutes, and it is best that you understand them. During our agreed time blocks when you are under contract, you will be here, all the time. You will only ever service me unless we have guests and I order you to take care of one of them. I fuck whomever I want whenever I want to, you get no say in that. Though I might let you watch sometimes but there is not guarantee of that.”

    Marvin reached down and grabbed Lance’s cage, which he had put back on and gave it a bit of a tug.

    He continued, “You will be my property, and that includes your dick and when or if I ever let you use it. This one you get for free, you will never get to fuck me, when we undertake that activity, it will be me fucking you. The same with you sucking my dick, it is a one-way ticket that leads to you being the one on their knees. The best you can expect is that I don’t edge you for so long that your dick gets all sore, or your eyes don’t pop out. The hornier I keep you the harder you will work, so don’t expect to cum often. During sex with me the word, “No,” should disappear from your vocabulary. At any time, I become dissatisfied with you or perhaps it may just give me a thrill, I can dissolve our arrangement. There is only one chance to answer, and it is now. Yes, or no?”

    Lance answered immediately, “Yes, Master, or Sir. It would be my honor to serve you and learn from you sir.”

    Marvin’s bulge began to grow when he saw how quickly Lance was signing the papers. Of course, they were only symbolic, but in this world, symbols have power. As Lance finished signing all the papers Marvin collected them and put them away. Then he undid his fly and took out his big dick. 

    He told Lance, “You can begin to learn by getting on all fours and sucking my cock, all nice and slowly for me.”

    He pulled a zip-tie out of his pants pocket and secured Lance’s hands behind his back. He sat back down, and Lance leaned his head down there. He opened his mouth and Marvin pushed the head of it into his mouth. As Lance began to move up and down on it, Marvin kept him honest on throating him by holding and pushing down on the back of his head. It made sort of a loud squishy noise every time he went down on it.

    Marvin moaned a bit, “Oh, maybe not the best but close and getting better. Oh, how I am so going to enjoy using you, slave. Are you going to like being used by me?” 

    “Y@s !@r,” was all Lance could manage with his mouth full of Marvin’s cock.

    It was okay, Marvin understood what he meant just fine. He just liked making him try to answer while his enormous cock was all up in his mouth. By the speed of which this young man had signed those papers; he would get to do that for a long time to come. That and practically anything else he could think of. 

    The End

  • Simply Red

    Max’s Perspective

    “Right there” I whispered in the darkness knowing that Craig was in his room just down the hall. Brody continued his assault on my wanting pucker. I was on my back with my knees pulled to my chest and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Having Craig with us for the last month or so had been great, but let’s just say our “intimate moments” were less frequent and a hell of a lot quieter than they used to be. The one good thing about it was that every kiss, touch, lick, and thrust was more precious and intense than ever. Nothing makes you appreciate sex more than not having it. Brody smacked my ass with a loud ‘SLAP’ “shhhhhhh” I said. “Craig will hear us.”

    Brody pulled his tongue out of my ass just long enough to say, “he’s a big boy, he can handle it.” Ugh. He was right but it still bothered me. Eventually I just gave into my carnal desires and blocked out everything else… damn that tongue! It was so fucking talented breaching my hole and making my body shutter with excitement. I whimpered and pulled my knees so tight against my chest that I thought I was gonna break a rib. Brody put a hand on my lower back and pushed me up, lifting my ass into the air so that he was looking down on it as he went back to feasting on me. His eyes were locked to mine as his mouth pleasured my most intimate area. My own growing cock was aimed squarely at my mouth, and I stroked it as Brody ate me out. Brody reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube out of the nightstand, stood on the bed and slapped his ample tool against my ass crack several times. It’s heat and girth sent shockwaves through my being as he moved it up and down my crack, past my hole teasing and taunting me as his sincere and loving brown eyes stayed locked to mine. He pushed his ass out, bent his knees, and squatted above my ass, lowering his body as he pushed his tool down with his hand and lined it up perfectly. From above, he dribbled the lube onto my hole, I shivered from both the coldness of the gel and the anticipation of his invasion.

    “Goddammit, Brody” I groaned in an exhale of lust as he worked the cold gel into my hole. I responded by pushing myself open, then closing around his determined digit. A moan escaped his beautiful lips as he added a second finger to my ass, and lubed up his own cock with his free hand. I just laid there basking in the sensation, letting the anticipation build.

    After several minutes of getting me ready, Brody moved his enraged manhood back to my loosened up hole and pushed. His head slipped in and was welcomed by my burning hot hole.  Brody pushed in slowly, damn, no matter how many times we had had sex over the years, each time was still exciting and there always seemed to be something new. My knees were now pinned against my chest by Brody’s tight little body and my ass felt so damn full. We started slow and tried to keep it quiet so we didn’t disturb Craig down the hall… yeah, well that lasted for about three or four strokes, then I grabbed a handful of Brody’s bubble ass in each hand and pulled him deep into me, that was Brody’s signal to turn it up a notch… or six! He picked up his pace, but he was still being tender and gentle, I wasn’t in the mood for tender and gentle so I pulled him in deeper, and encouraged him to pound harder. He got the hint. After a few more slow, gentle strokes he started to thrust harder and faster, his balls slapping hard against my ass. “Fuck me” I begged in a quiet, commanding voice that came from deep inside my gut.  He pummeled me hard, pounding against my prostate and driving me insane.

    I started to stroke myself but Brody slapped my hand away and took over. His hand had a light layer of lube left from prepping his own cock, it was all I needed. His slick hand moved up and down my aching shaft in rhythm with his own thrusts, his entire body worked in unison giving me indescribable pleasure. He felt my orgasm building and picked up the pace, I don’t know if he planned it or not but it felt like a well-orchestrated symphony as my load shot into my own mouth, and his shot up my craving passage; the sensation was shockingly pleasurable. He collapsed on top of me, and ended our lovemaking with an impassioned, cum-filled kiss.

    It was a Wednesday night just before 10PM and we were just lying there holding each other, basking in the afterglow when Brody’s phone rang; it was Dylan. “Hey uncle Brody, get yer ass down to the hospital, there’s somebody here who wants to meet y’all.” Gina had gone into labor, Dylan rushed her to the hospital, and before they could even call the baby was here. It was an extremely fast and easy birth.

    “The baby’s here?” Brody exclaimed in response. I laid next to him listening in, we were both excited. “Well, ya’ gonna’ finally tell us if it’s a boy or a girl?” Dylan and Gina had known the baby’s sex for months but wanted to surprise us all and refused to tell.

    “Nope.” Dylan said in a smug voice. “Y’all gotta’ come down and see for yourself.” Dylan was so excited that it was cute.

    “It’s too late, they won’t let us in” Brody said.

    “The nurse promised that if y’all came she’d make sure ya’ got in.” Dylan said.

    We jumped in the shower, got dressed and ready to go. Craig was in his room with Zoey, I stuck my head in and let him know the baby was here and we were going to the hospital. He smiled and yelled back “okay, see you in the morning. Tell Gina and Dylan congratulations for me.” We invited him a long be he decided to stay home. Ricky had come to talk to me earlier that day, I guess Craig tried to kiss him and things got weird between them for a couple of days. He came to ask my advice because he didn’t want to lose Craig as a friend, then he went up to talk to Craig. Craig was smiling again so I assumed all went well.

    After I said goodbye, we were off. Brody pulled the Gladiator into the Hospital’s parking lot and we walked towards the entrance, Daddy and BA were coming in at the same time. BA and I hugged a greeting while Daddy and Brody gave each other a casual “hey y’all” type greeting. Brody texted Dylan as the four of us walked in, he was down in the lobby within mere seconds. He was so excited! His face was glowing.

    “How are they doin’?” BA asked.

    “Momma and Baby are both doin’ great!” Dylan said with proud exuberance. I had never seen him smile so much; he was a proud papa. A sweet young nurse came over to great us, she held Dylan by the arm as she talked to us, then she led us up to the room where Gina sat up in the hospital bed holding our newest family member Margaret James, named after Grammaw… Maggie for short. She was perfect and beautiful, as most babies tend to be. Gina looked like death warmed over.

    “You look radiant” I said as we all admired the baby and congratulated the proud parents.

    “Maxwell Harrington, you’re so fulla’ shit, I look like hell!” Gina said looking up at me putting BA into a fit of laughter.

    “Honey, ya’ll are entitled to look like hell, you just shot a baby out yer privates, and she’s the most beautiful baby in the world” BA gushed. We stayed at the hospital until about midnight then said goodnight to our new niece and left her to get to know her parents. Gina told me to let the school know we had a new future student among us. We headed home and got a few hours’ sleep before the day began.

    The next morning, I got up and made a quick breakfast. Brody just grabbed a cup of coffee, kissed me, and went out to take care of Jimmy and get to work, he was in the middle of another pitch and crunched for time. Craig came down all smiles again “Hi Max, did Gina have the baby?”

    “Yup” I responded, “a healthy little girl… Maggie.”

    Craig muttered and “awesome” as he poured his coffee. We talked about the baby for a little while, then he asked, “Did Ricky tell you what happened?”

    I nodded sheepishly, hoping not to open a can of worms. “He didn’t tell me much, but he was worried he upset you.”

    Craig smiled and said, “Nah, I was the stupid one, but it’s all good now.” I let out a huge sigh of relief. The last thing we needed was for those two to be mad at each other. Everything seemed to be back to normal at BroMax Farm.

    I went to school that morning and had coffee in my room with the usual suspects. When all of them were there, I announced, “Gina and Dylan welcomed baby girl Maggie into the world last night.” All our friends cheered, Principal Simmons heard us and came to see what the ruckus was all about. That morning during announcements he congratulated Mrs. James and her husband on their new arrival.

    It had been a crazy couple of months, but after that, things seemed to calm down quite a bit. Gina and Dylan were busy settling into parental life and we all gathered around to help. At school the vibe was different without Mrs. James, and with Mrs. J and I finishing up our final semester. Gina showed up the last day of school with Baby Maggie to introduce her and say goodbye to Mrs. J and I as I closed another chapter in the book of my life.

    Back at BroMax Farm we prepared for a big celebration. Ricky, Craig, and Timmy were all graduating and we were hosting a big celebration for the friends and families of all three boys at our place. It was a huge blowout, catered by Fern and Sue. Ricky and Timmy both had tons of relatives show up in support, and Craig had his collected family… and it was a big one. His friend Jake, his family, and a few other friends showed up from St louis to celebrate. Seth, Zach, Rhonda, Laurie, Chip, Alec, Aaron, and Brendon all made the trek too. So many people came to cheer Craig on that we couldn’t get enough tickets to the ceremony to accommodate them all. Each kid got six tickets, Craig chose me, Brody, Seth, Zach, Rhonda, and Laurie to be there and we did a damn good job of cheering him on if I do say so myself. It was a bittersweet moment for me and Brody; we were proud of Craig, but we were going to miss the hell out of him. That little guy changed our lives forever.

    After the ceremony it was back to our place for the party. Things were already in full swing by the time we all drove up the gravel drive. Guests had already started to arrive and the parking area was filling up fast. Fern and Sue’s team already had the bar set up and the buffet tables covered with appetizers and ready to go. Craig rode home with me and Brody and his eyes lit up when he saw all the cars and people. One car in particular caught his eye. It was a familiar old green VW Beetle, the one he had cleaned out for Daddy and helped him work on. At least, he thought it was the same car, it was hard to tell with the new metallic green paint job, new tires, and giant silver bow on top with a giant cardboard gift tag that read, “Congratulations, Craig. We love you” with all our names proudly displayed on it (a hand painted Brody James original I might add). Daddy, BA, and Dylan stood next to the freshly painted old car; Gina was there too with baby Maggie in her arms. Craig walked over to his chosen family with his eyes wide and his mouth open in awe. Daddy spoke as he held out the keys “She’s all gassed up and should get ya’ where yer goin’ son. We’re damn proud of ya’.” Craig instinctively pulled daddy into a vice-like embrace. The slight young man held on tight to my burly father in-law as tears rolled down Daddy’s cheek and he hugged the boy back (a rare moment for Daddy). It was a good minute before Craig regained his composure and let go of Daddy. He thanked him then hugged each of the other people standing around the car repeating “thank you” over and over again.

    As Craig inspected his new revitalized ride, a crowd started to gather around us, all the folks from St louis came over to congratulate the graduate. Laurie handed him an envelope and said, “This is from all of us, it should help with insurance and gas for a while. The group from St Louis (including Jake’s family) had pitched in to give the boy a thousand dollars. He hugged them each and cried some more, he was overwhelmed. It took a good half hour to pull him away from his new car, but we finally entered the tent in front of the candle barn. The music was playing, people were talking and laughing, the food and drink was flowing. Ricky introduced me to all his relatives as his mentor, that made me proud. They were a great bunch of people who were very supportive of the boy. Timmy was in another corner of the barn with his mother and some other relatives. She thanked Brody and I for throwing the party and for giving her son a job. I bragged on what a good worker he was… and I meant every word. I admit, I had my doubts about Timmy, but he turned out to be a good egg and I was happy he was staying on while he went to community college in the fall. I congratulated him and even called him T-Dog (ugh), that made him smile. He hugged me and thanked me for the party “and everything else” we had done for him, I knew what he meant. It was a celebration that rivaled our wedding, I’d go as far as to say the biggest BroMax farm had ever seen.

    We were so damn proud of all three boys. Ricky went from being a redneck punk who tagged our barn to an ambitious young man that I trusted with my business. I knew he’d accomplish great things. Timmy was just a punk when I met him, but thanks to Ricky, I now saw him as a kindhearted kid and hard worker with a lot of potential. And Craig, He was a stranger who came into our lives and changed our world. We were so proud of him for picking up the pieces of his life and forging on. But his graduation also meant he’d be leaving us at the end of the summer to go back to St Louis for school. Damn I would miss him. Craig brought a new dimension to our world; he gave me a greater purpose and I knew wanted to continue to fulfill that purpose after he moved on.

    The celebration went late into the night, we closed the candle factory on Monday so we could all recuperate from the big celebration. Tuesday was our first official fulltime day of candle making. Ricky’s Project Management Certification course started the following Monday and ran for five days, so we’d be without him for a week, luckily, we still had Craig, he had decided to stick around until the beginning of August. He and his friend Jake had found a nice apartment in St Louis and were going to live together while they both went to community college in the fall. Zach’s firm had been successful in getting an Injunction against Craig’s father to help ensure Craig’s safe return to St Louis. His father was attending court ordered therapy sessions. Zach had mailed a letter to Craig that was written by his father as part of the therapy. His father still didn’t know Craig’s whereabouts, but his lawyers were in touch with Zach’s firm. The letter was an apology. His father claimed to have many regrets, his biggest one was the incident at Mardi Gras. He never meant to hurt his son, he was just overcome by emotion and things got out of hand. He claimed to be remorseful for his actions, Craig was a smart kid and appreciated the effort, he also saw this as a first step at best. He wanted a reconciliation, but entered with caution. Things were not going to move quickly.

    That Spring came with many changes for us, as did the summer. In mid-July my father called me to tell me my grandfather had a stroke while he and Grandma were playing tennis. The Paramedics came and took him to the hospital, he was pronounced dead on arrival. He and I had always been close, but had become even closer since his visit to BroMax Farm at Christmas where we bonded over my business, and then later when he helped me carve out a giving strategy for BroMax Farm. He and I talked regularly on the phone and he was a constant source of support, council, and wisdom. He saw a lot of himself in me and never hesitated to tell me how proud I made him… I couldn’t have loved the man more. His death came as a shock to us all. Brody and I flew back to Minneapolis for the funeral, and stayed with my grandmother for a couple of weeks to help her adjust to life without Grandpa. She was a strong woman, but his death came as a surprise and she was a little disoriented at first. Grandpa was a wealthy man and he made sure that my grandmother was well taken care of, he left her everything (of course). Everything that was except a 1.5 million dollar charitable trust which was to be managed by me and used to… and I quote… “Carry on your work building strong gay men, women, and nonbinary adults who can stand on their own by creating opportunities” His will had quoted the giving strategy that he helped write for BroMax Farm. In other words, Grandpa believed in me. He also left me a personal letter, although his death was a surprise, Grandma said he was constantly writing final letters to his loved ones and updating them just in case. He didn’t want to leave this earth without being able to tell the people in his life how much they meant to him… I thought it was a beautiful sentiment (although a bit morbid). I would read you his letter, but I don’t think I could get through without breaking down. I’ll read this line so you get the gist of it: “I am proud of the man that you have become. I’m so happy that you and Brody found each other and I was around to see the two of you get married. I am in awe of the life you have built together. I am leaving this trust in your care because I know you will figure out how to use it to continue to build our family legacy.”

    After spending a week of grieving and celebrating the life of my grandpa with my family, we returned to BroMax Farm just in time to say goodbye to Craig. We got home late on a Saturday afternoon, BA and Gina had pulled together a goodbye cookout for him. The smells of burgers, brats, hotdogs, and hotlinks wafted through the air as we drove up in the Red Hot Camaro with the top down. Daddy and Dylan were manning the grill while our family and Craig’s friends were all on the back deck socializing. Ricky, Timmy, Trey, a few friends from school, Harris & Terrance, Sue & Fern, Mrs. J and Jack were all there, Principal Simmons and his wife came too. All the people who had rallied around us and Craig came to say goodbye. Brody and I said a quick hello to everyone before we dumped our bags off in our bedroom, then went back out to the deck to hang out with our family. My first order of business was to grab my favorite (and only) niece out of her mother’s arms. She gave be a smile and I held her most of the night as I caught up with my friends and family. It was good to be home.

    Our guests were all gone before 10PM, Craig had to get up early in the morning to hit the road to St Louis. Ricky was coming over at 5AM and driving with his best friend to keep him company, then flying back a few days later after Craig was settled in his new place. Me and Brody were sitting in the living room watching something on Netflix while Craig finished up his packing. At about 11PM he came down the stairs with Zoey behind him and sat in one of the chairs. “Max and Brody” he said, “I… um… just want to say thanks, but words aren’t enough. I… I… can’t… I mean I don’t um… have anything now, but thanks to you guys I know I will someday. So, I wrote this” He held out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me.

    I took it from his hand, unfolded it and read it, it was a handwritten pledge to pay it forward. It was a one page letter that talked about how when he was at his lowest and had started to lose hope, so many people came to his rescue and gave him help, hope, and an opportunity for a better future. He promised that when he was able, he would give of his time, money, talents to help others who needed it in our honor. It was a beautiful sentiment. “I mean every word of that, and want you to hold me to it guys.”  He said with sincerity in his voice and eyes. “I never would’ve made it without all of you.” Then he tried to say thank you again but started crying. We both got off the couch and hugged the kid that had changed my perspective forever. It was a very emotional goodbye, damn we were gonna miss him.

    The next morning, I was up at 4AM making coffee and packing a cooler with drinks, snacks and sandwiches like any good mother would do when she sent her kid off to college. I also had bags of groceries, toiletries, toilet paper, and a bunch of other stuff he’d need sitting on the counter waiting to be packed into his shiny little bug. Ricky showed up before Craig came down from his shower, I thanked him for going along with him… he was going to miss Craig too. Finally, Craig and Brody came down the stairs and we packed his little car to the hilt and the guys were ready to hit the road. Me, Brody, and Zoey just stood there and watched the little green bug take the boys down the long driveway, and then out of site. It was hard to watch them leave; Craig had changed my life forever.

    Grandpa had left me in charge of 1.5 million dollars to use to help young people. I know his intent was for me to use that trust as seed money to build a self-sustaining legacy that would grow and live on well into the future and be there to help guys like Craig, and I intended to do just that. Luckily, was surrounded by the right people to help me make it happen.

    I was a lucky redhead who met the perfect little redneck and was able to lead the perfect life. My goal was to give others the chance to do the same. I had found my purpose.

    The end (of this part of the story)

     


    Author’s Note: Thank you all for watching following the life of Max and Brody and their adventures on BroMax Farm. I hope you’ll watch for my next series “The Village” where we’ll follow all our favorite characters as they come together to build a legacy of giving back. I am still working out the details, but this series should provide the opportunity to hear from most of the other characters you’ve grown to know. You’ve got my e-mail… please let me know who you want to hear from and I’ll see if I can get them to share.

    Be patient as it may take some time before I post the first chapter. I seriously can’t thank you all enough for the ratings, the comments, and especially the emails. I love that you all have emersed yourself in my world and made yourselves part of the ever-growing village. I’ll miss this story.

  • Protecting Ronny’s Need

    Ronny was driving his old pickup toward his riverside cabin on the virtual fire lane gravel road, where the treetops met over the track, between Lewisburg, West Virginia, the Greenbrier River, and the Virginia State line when he came across another old pickup that required him to carefully maneuver around to be able to continue. A mountain of a bearded and muscular man in jeans and a sweatshirt was standing in front of the parked pickup, looking frustrated and rattling a cellphone. Ronny, about half the other man’s size—small, short, slim and more dark-haired “cute” than masculine, stopped and exited his pickup after he’d maneuvered around the other vehicle.

    “Got car trouble or are you lost?” he asked as he approached the other man—but not too close. The guy was a stranger and some wild things happened in the West Virginia woods. Ronny had been in and out of trouble himself and very well knew life on the fringe. The real question was what the guy was doing on this road at all. It didn’t lead to much of anywhere other than Ronny’s remote cabin on the bank of the river.

    The young man was returning from his stint at the fast-food restaurant counter in Lewisburg. It wasn’t much of a job and he couldn’t have managed to live off what he made there if he hadn’t inherited the cabin and this old Ford pickup from his father, but he was lucky to have gotten a job at all at twenty-five, but looking a lot younger than that, since he was only six months out of the state penitentiary. As it was, he lived a far piece from where he worked, and he led a solitary life. If prison had taught him anything, it was to keep quiet and unnoticed and don’t make waves. But this was the hand he’d been dealt and he rather liked the isolation of living on the river. He also hadn’t gotten over the joy of living in a lush forest rather than a prison cell.

    “Been an idiot,” the man answered. “I let myself run out of gas and my cellphone’s dead too.” He was older than Ronny. He was tall and muscular and solid. He could be called a chunk—not quite fat, but very solid, quite tall, very big. Not handsome by any means, a country man. What he had exposed showed tattoos that weren’t very professionally done. By appearances he could go either way—good ole country boy or redneck thug. Ronny had met many like him in the pen, all of whom could, by appearance, go either way and some of whom made a tasty meal out of small, good-lookers like Ronny. Whether or not they preferred going either way, in the pen their choices were pretty much confined to one way.

    Ronny had been a tasty meal on occasion himself, more so before he hooked up with a protector, which put him into a lifestyle and preference he hadn’t realized was the one he preferred—but he now did, not that he was indulging in it. He had survived to get out of the pen, though. I lot of “chickens” like him were used up in prison. He was androgynous and small enough to be a favorite.

    The power tops and men in charge inside the prison cells were all named “Big” this and “Big” that. It designated their status and where they fit at the top of the fucking order in prison. If you didn’t qualify for the name and tried to use it, the other inmates would beat you down until you either stopped using it or demonstrated you’d earned it. Many got the name because they, in fact, were big and thus catered to. Actual size was the quickest way to earn the title. Ronny was leery of this guy, who could easily be called “Big” from what Ronny could see.

    “We can fix that,” he said, giving it a tentative tone. “But how did you find yourself back here on this road? It don’t really go anywhere. Are you lost?” He wasn’t ready to reveal that it went to his remote cabin and not much anywhere else, although there were a couple of tracks from it that went down to the Greenbrier Riverbank, where guys from the Lewisburg area liked to do their fishing.

    “Came back here looking for a dude I was asked to check up on. Ronny Johnson. You wouldn’t know where he lives by any chance, would you? I was directed out this way.”

    “I might. What do you want with Ron?”

    “Friend asked me to check up on him. A guy by the name of Russell. Big Russell. I just been where he was, and he asked me if I’d check up on his friend, Ronny Johnson, when I got out. Big Russ is concerned how his boy is making out.”

    “His boy.” Ronny was six months out of prison, and Big Russell was still thinking of him this way and sending someone to check up on him. Big Russell, Ronny’s protector in the pen. “You were held in Beckley Camp with Big Russell?” Ronny asked, referring to a minimum-security state prison.

    “Yep. Got out a month ago. Working in Lewisburg now and living in a group home. Russell told me his boy was living and working here now too, but he hadn’t heard from him in a while and was worried about him.”

    It had pained Ronny to stop sending letters to Big Russell, but his probation officer had told him it would be best to break off all ties. But then the probation officer hadn’t had the relationship with Big Russell that Ronny had, one that may have started in brutal subjugation but that ended in much affection. Ronny wouldn’t still be alive if Big Russell hadn’t protected him, but it had cost Ronny, a cost he’d come to realize he wanted to pay—and by the time Big Russell came around, Ronny didn’t have anything else to lose. Ronny’s probation officer also didn’t know that Ronny had been Big Russell’s boy in the pen—or he pretended not to know. Probation officers didn’t reveal all they knew about the penitentiary and what went on in there.

    “My name’s Steve. Steve Spander. They called me Big Steve in the pen. You know about Beckley Camp and Big Russell? So, you know this Ronny guy?” It was clear the guy now knew he’d found Ronny Johnson.

    There it was, and Ronny wasn’t surprised—another “big.” This was one of the guys who did and got what he wanted in the pen. Big Russell would have seen him as a friend or as competition. That would determine what the guy was doing here, looking for him. Had this Steve been a friend of Big Russell’s and meant Ronny no harm, or was this Steve now in a position to get revenge on Big Russell for some grudge between them? Ronny had to make a choice. He had to admit that the guy aroused him. He’d decide the man was on the up and up about being Big Russell’s friend and Big Russell being worried enough about how Ronny was doing that he’d send a recently released guy like him to check up on his boy. “Yeah, you found him. I’m Ronny Johnson. Is Russell OK?”

    “You know Big Russell. He can take care of himself. You can call me Big Steve, if you like.”

    If he’d still been in the pen, this would have been a proposition from a possible protector. But in the pen it would have been more of a command, and Ronny would have succumbed to it without question, simply for survival—unless he already was living under the wing of a more powerful “Big.” With the all-over look this guy was giving him, Ronny could be confident it was a proposition. He wasn’t in the pen, trapped with the guy in an iron-barred cage, but he was on an isolated forest road. There wasn’t much of a functional difference. The mantra of a “Big” in prison was just to take what he wanted when he could get away with it. Ronny would have to move carefully here, but there was no change from prison in that. The save grace was that this guy was a hunk.

    Ronny had had a few protectors in prison before Big Russell said to call him that and stared down any and all others who might have objected, and he hadn’t been a virgin or still thought he had anything to protect before Big Russell had covered and owned him. By then Ronny had come to accept his lot in life and had opened his mouth to the big man’s cock and lain on his back and opened his legs to the man docilely and without fuss. Still, Big Russell had beat him down and taken him hard that first time, making quite clear who was master and who was slave.

    Ronny had become adjusted and groomed to this, and although he’d had a few encounters after leaving prison, they hadn’t gone too well. Too much had been expected from him. He had been trained to just lie down and open his legs and to let the other man do it all. And that’s how he was responding to this new Mr. Big. It was almost with relief. Big Steve was one big, beautiful bruiser anyway, but he was a man from the world Ronny had become accustomed and adjusted to. If he gave the commands . . .

    Big Steve had said Big Russell could take care of himself. That meant he had found and chosen another boy—maybe more than one by now—Ronny thought. “Good to hear,” he said, “about Big Russell being settled. He say anything about me calling you Big Steve when we met?”

    “Yeah, he did. He’s the one who suggested it. We were good friends and he said he was sure you’d like me—that I’d take good care of you. So, what is it you’d like to call me? Do you like the look of me or not?”

    Ronny hesitated, but then he said, “I guess Big Steve would be good then.” There, it had been established—at least enough for a first fucking to determine it was something they’d both want more of. Ronny was in need, and this was a big, strapping hunk.

    This was coming from a different world—the prisons. Hookups were made as quickly and casually as this, and sometimes they were consummated on the spot if and as there was a window on opportunity. Once you’d been made someone’s boy, as Ronny had been by Big Russell, it wasn’t so much if you’d give it on demand as it was how that fit into the pecking order with your Big. Big Russell had been one to like to watch a friend do Ronny before mounting him himself, so Ronny saw nothing peculiar in Big Steve being sent to mount him too. Big Russell had sent this guy to him, and he wasn’t the jealous type, so that established what Ronny’s Big approved.

    “He talks about you. He’s got another boy, of course, but he talks about you a lot. He says he’d never had a boy as good as you.”

    The pecking order established here, both men were comfortable with returning to the mundane.

    “Yeah, well. We can get you fixed up,” Ronny said. “My cabin’s not far down this road. I’ve got an extra gas tank there and we can get your cellphone recharged. I don’t got much in, and I’m not much of a cook, but it’s suppertime. I’ll find something as long as you’re not picky. We can have something to eat and we can talk about Camp Beckley, do whatever you want, and then I can bring you back here and give you enough gas to make it back to Lewisburg. Hop in my truck.”

    “I can make a meal out of most anything,” Spander said. “That’s what I do now. Learned it in the pen. I cook at Sloan’s Steakhouse in Lewisburg. Thanks for the invite. I’ll do the cooking.”

    Sloan’s Steakhouse was right across the street from the fast-food joint Ronny worked at. He wouldn’t reveal that, though. This guy, Steve, who seemed to be OK, was still someone it was best to stay from if Ronny wanted to break away from his old habits. The man didn’t seem judgmental, though. He quite evidently knew exactly what Big Russell and Ronny had been to each other—protector and eventually willing sex slave—and it didn’t seem to bother him at all. If anything, judging by the looks he gave Ronny, it gave him good reason to be out here in an isolated forest. Big Steve knew Ronny would be easy, and this had proved to be the case.

    Ronny took another look at the guy sitting next to him in the truck cab. He could be some small jailbird’s protector too as far as Ronny could discern. He used the “Big” name, so, in prison terms, that’s what he was—a top-of-the-walk cell leader. Had there been any question Ronny would let the man fuck him? Who was he kidding? He’d been programed to go along, lay down, and open his legs. And Ronny hadn’t had a satisfying fuck since he’d been in the pen. He’d learned there to want the top to take it from him. He hadn’t met anyone since prison who did that for him.

    There wasn’t much in Ronny’s refrigerator or on his shelves to make a meal of, but he had to admit that Big Steve made a mean omelet out of what he could find. They talked for more than an hour at the table while they ate, eventually dancing around what Big Russell and Ronny’s arrangement had been in prison and what Ronny had been in for. Big Russell, like Big Steve, had been in for running with gangs that did armed robberies, and Ronny had been in for holding the drugs his boyfriend had been pushing, with the boyfriend disappearing and leaving Ronny to answer for it all. They also openly talked about how Ronny had got along with someone to protect him.

    Even without admitting it, Big Steve would know that Ronny survived in prison by lying on his back, opening his legs, and taking what was shoved into him.

    Of course, Ronny didn’t need the protection he’d needed in prison now, he said, but still, being a small, shy, good-looking guy, he got pushed around a bit in Lewisburg, which could be a rough town.

    “So, are you getting it the way you want it here?” Big Steve asked.

    “Not really,” Ronny answered.

    “You’re a small guy. Big Russell’s got a giant snake of a one. You had problems taking—?”

    “No, not after a while. You saying you’ve got—?”

    “Yep,” the answer was accompanied by a grin. “He told me you could and that you could ride it like a rodeo star, but I thought I should ask.”

    The conversation started to go further into the sexual aspects of the young man’s life in the here and now, but Ronny redirected the conversation. He, in fact, had been feeling the isolation of not having a man—a rough, dominated man—but his probation officer, without knowing there was a sexual angle to this, had convinced him that he needed to completely change his life.

    It was too late for Ronny to go heterosexual, though. He’d been too indoctrinated into the gay submissive life.

    Truth be known, he had learned to enjoy lying under Big Russell, and this guy with his feet under his table, this Big Steve Spander, was a lot like Big Russell and he aroused Ronny. Going with him would be going back to what Ronny had known in the pen, though, and he needed to fight his instincts. But, yes, this now was up to Big Steve Spander. When he made the moves, Ronny would let the man fuck him.

    When they started to move their dishes to the kitchen sink, Steve declared he’d do the cleanup and Ronny said he’d go out by the river and take a smoke.

    “That isn’t pot, is it?” Steve asked as he came upon Ronny sitting with his back against the tree and looking down, across the railroad tracks to the bank of the Greenbrier River.

    “Yeah, it is? You want one?”

    “No, not me. That’s breaking probation. I’m too recently released to take any chances. You sure you want to do that? I don’t want to go back in myself.”

    “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ronny said, stubbing the joint out and tossing it over onto the graveled railroad tracks.

    “There was something Big Russell said you’d probably want and surely needed, though, and I wouldn’t have bothered to find my way out here if his talking about you riding it didn’t make me want to do you too,” Big Steve said, getting to it at last. “Was he wrong? Do you need a real man? I mean a real man that you only can get in prison—a big-cocked man using it hard.” He was crouching in front of Ronny. He reached out with his big mitts, grasped Ronny knees, and spread the young man’s legs, which were bent, with his feet flat on the ground by the tree. Getting a guy’s legs parted was always a sure move in prison, and the vulnerability of that here didn’t escape Ronny.

    “We danced around it at dinner. I think Russell is right—you need a real man’s dick inside you—a really big one. He told me it would be fine with him. Am I wrong? He wants me to take care of you like he would if he were here.” His hands ran up Ronny’s inner legs and gripped the young man’s thighs above the knees. This was a common movement on the inside to signal the man was going to move in between the legs and take control. Ronny was panting a bit, but he didn’t resist the movement.

    Ronny’s low moan and his lack of resistance was all the “yes” Big Steve needed to receive.

    So, Big Russell, who had been Ronny’s protector and master for nearly two years wanted this man to take care of him like Russell himself had. Ronny couldn’t resist this. The need, there just under the surface ever since he’d left Big Russell in Beckley Camp, had been coming out over dinner. “No, you’re not wrong,” he answered in a low voice. “But Big Russell told me to wait for him—that he’d get out of the pen and come looking for me.”

    “Big Russell ain’t getting out of the pen,” Steve said. “He shivved a guy in Beckly and he’s in for the duration now. He ain’t getting out. He sent me. He sent me to tell you that and to do you for him.”

    Slowly, methodically, maintaining eye contact with the young man, Big Steve moved his hands up Ronny’s inner thighs, unbuckled and unzipped him, pulled the young man’s shorts off his legs, unbuckled, unzipped, and freed himself; and leaned in for a kiss on the mouth.

    The man’s cock, in erection, was massive. Ronny had known it would be.

    This was it, just like in the pen. One Mr. Big was being exchanged for another. Ronny’s expected response was to take it, and that’s what he did. In short order, Big Steve had turned Ronny, putting him on all fours, facing the river, mounted him from behind and on top, slowly penetrated, set up a rhythm as Ronny panted and moaned under him, and fucked him in a doggy.

    Steve had growled, “Like a dog,” grabbed a handful of Ronny’s hair, and turned him face down on the riverbank, swinging a leg over the small of the young man’s back. It was a familiar prison master-to-slave movement that both of them were accustomed to, and Ronny responded in the expected submissive role. It was almost with relief that Ronny went into the expected stance so easily—lifting his tail, moving his hands back to squeeze his butt cheeks as wide as possible to take the killing thrust. That was the prison custom—the initial thrust fast and deep to assure the connection had been made even if they were discovered and parted quickly. The thrust, as in prison, was accompanied by the Big’s hand on his boy’s mouth and nose to muffle the cry. And as he would have done in prison, Ronny sobbed into the hand at the first hard, thick, deep thrust—and then again at the second one and the third.

    The young man writhed, panted, and cried out as the thick cock worked its way up into him, but when the big man was fully saddled, Ronny settled down, conjuring up images of Big Russell covering and possessing him like this on dark, otherwise boring and endless nights in their cell, mounting him and transporting him to other realms beyond the prison bars.

    Ronny knelt in a three-point stance, the fourth, his hand, stroking his own cock, as the muscular mountain of a man hovered over him and worked his magic inside him, lifting him from the riverbank into the sublime heavens. Ronny was meant to be fucked by a commanding man. God, how he had missed this from Big Russell.

    Big Steve fucked him good—as good as Big Russell or any of the other “Bigs” in prison had done.

    They held, neither saying anything, for the longest time, after they both had come. Then Steve rose, picked the much smaller man up off the ground under the tree, slung him over his shoulder, and took him into the cabin and to the bed. He put the now-naked Ronny down on the bed on his back, grasped and raised and parted the young man’s calves. Possessing Ronny’s eyes with his, he slowly spread the legs, watching for and pleased, when Ronny’s eyes showed need and surrender.

    “Raise your tail,” he commanded, and, whimpering, Ronny dug his heels into the mattress and lifted his pelvis. Big Steve slid his knees in between the young man’s thighs. Setting his left fist into the mattress beside Ronny’s left chest, Big Steve hovered over his boy, maintaining eye control, and, as Ronny moaned and moved on the one, two, and three fingers of the man’s right hand.

    “Yes, open up more,” Big Steve growled. Panting, Ronny worked on doing so, Big Steve’s beefy fingers just holding steady as Ronny fucked himself on them, taking them ever deeper inside.

    When the big man was ready, the fingers were pulled back, he put the head of his cock in position, penetrated, slid in deep, and fucked Ronny again in a missionary position. Digging his heels in, Ronny vigorously moved with the thrusts—wanting it, needing it, crying out for it. “Fuck me! Fuck me hard, you big-cocked stud!”

    Big Steve laughed. When the boy was contributing to the thrusts, the Big knew he had a genuine slave. Big Russell had been right about this one.

    “Yes, yes, YES! Oh, Fuckin’ Shit YES. Screw me hard,” he cried out as the big cock worked him.

    It was just like Big Russell and the prison. Small Ronny was Big Steve’s sex slave now. They slept on the bed, entwined, and exhausted by the sex. Sometime in the night, Ronny signaled the completion of the submission by straddling the big man’s pelvis and riding his cock in the cowboy position. Big Steve took command. He ravished the young man, taking him hard and repeatedly, and Ronny had melded to his every demand, giving him everything he wanted, letting him do whatever he wanted. He had wanted to do it all. Ronny had surrendered all.

    Uncertainty set in in the morning, though. When Steve woke up, he was alone in the cabin. Ronny had left him a full can of gas, and it was only a short walk back to where they had left Steve’s truck, but Ronny and his pickup were gone.

    Had this not been what the young guy had wanted? Steve wondered. He had taken it easily, greedily, just as Big Russell had said he would. But had he driven Ronny out of his own cabin by taking him back to the prison days and doing the unwanted with him? The young man had been submissive in the fucks, but was that out of remembered fear for what he had to do to remain alive in the prison situation? He’d cleared out without saying anything. Was he escaping, being displaced from his own home because he saw no other choice?

    Steve couldn’t know the answers to those questions. Ronny wasn’t here to explain what he wanted. He’d been a great lay—Big Russell had said he would be. But how willing was he?

    There was one way Steve thought he could find out. The cabin was hopelessly undersupplied even in easily prepared foods. Two days later Steve came back to the cabin with enough groceries to stock the cabin for a week. He was a cook. In his view, everything could be solved by having a good meal. As a peace offering he’d bring Ronny what he needed anyway. He’d fix him a meal and either they’d part with an understanding that this was the ending, or they’d fuck.

    This wasn’t to be, though. When he came back to the cabin, it was empty. Nothing seemed to have been moved at all since he’d been there before. The bedding was in the same disarray they’d put it in in their fucking and that Steve had left it in when taking the gas to his car.

    Steve put the food supplies away, but then he just left and drove back to Lewisburg. Perhaps he knew by Ronny abandoning his own cabin that the limits had been overstepped—that Ronny had chosen to abandon the prison way of living. Maybe Steve had miscalculated in thinking Ronny would be comfortable returning to the master-slave mode of prison and might have been more amenable to a more equal sharing of decisions and moves.

    Well, it was done now.

    On his way back out of the forest to return to Lewisburg, Steve saw a track cleared enough for the truck going down to the riverbank. He’d heard the fishing was good on this stretch of the Greenbrier River, and, not wanting to waste his trip, he drove down to the river. He’d brought his fishing gear, thinking that maybe he and Ronny could fish and drink and fuck and then fish and drink and fuck again. Without Ronny, all he managed was the fishing and drinking, but that was good and he returned to Lewisburg in better spirits for side trip and with some fresh catch.

    Shit, that little fucker was premium catch, though, he thought. Ronny had been all as a lay that Big Russell said he’d be—yielding but giving, and such a beautiful little body. Too bad it didn’t work out.

    * * * *

    Two weeks went by before the two encountered each other again, and even then it appeared that one of them didn’t realize it. Ronny and Big Steve worked just across the street from each other in Lewisburg, though, so it was inevitable that they would come together again.

    It happened one evening near dusk when Steve was on kitchen duty at Sloan’s Steakhouse and Ronny had finished his shift across the street at the fast-food joint. Steve had come out of the kitchen in the alleyway at the side of the steakhouse to empty the grease from a large cast-iron skillet into a receptacle near the garbage cans designated for that when Ronny was coming out of the fast-food restaurant and going to his truck. Steve heard raised voice from across the street and looked up to see that two drunks who had some sort of beef, they thought, with Ronny, were accosting him at his truck. They were both bigger than he was.

    Steve recognized Ronny mostly, in the twilight, because he first recognized Ronny’s old pickup. When one of the men trapping Ronny against the fender of his truck raised his fist to deliver a blow, Steve bellowed at him, raised the iron skillet, and began advancing across the road. Steve was bigger than either of the assailants and much meaner looking than either. They evaporated into the night. Obviously shaken, rather than looking across the street to realize that it was Big Steve who had protected him, Ronny scrambled into his truck and roared off into the approaching night.

    Steve didn’t know whether or not Ronny had seen him. If he had, he was avoiding him—still, in Steve’s mind. He decided that was the end in any hope with hooking up with the smaller, sexy, and delectable man. Ronny obviously didn’t want a relationship as it had been in prison.

    Neither of their probation officers would be thrilled at the two socializing with each other—and certainly not fucking around—anyway, he thought. It was a pity, though. Ronny was someone Steve would really get attached to. He might even try to develop into a more equal relationship than the familiar master-slave one.

    * * * *

    “So, it’s really you who are here.”

    Surprised at someone else finding him at what had become his favorite fishing spot on the river, but recognizing the voice, Steve turned to see that Ronny had approached down the track from the road to his cabin to the riverbank.

    “Yeah, I’ve found the fishing good here,” Steve answered. He modulated his voice. He didn’t want to scare the young man away. He still had the hots for him.

    “I saw your truck parked up on the road. At least I thought it was yours. I wondered if you were out of gas again.”

    Steve gave a little laugh. “I don’t plan on making that mistake again. But the track here has really gotten choked up. I wasn’t sure whether I should try to drive down to here, so I left the truck up on the road. Sorry. I hope you can get by. I can move it if you need more clearance.”

    “No problem getting by,” Ronny said. “If it was you, I wanted to thank you for stocking my kitchen. I assume that was you.”

    “Yeah. It was the least I could do,” Steve said. “I had hoped I maybe would be seeing you there again.” He reached over and secured his fishing pole between two rocks. He wasn’t sure why he wanted his hands free and to have freedom of movement just now, but being stuck holding the pole was making him feel contained, pinned down. What he really wanted to do was to embrace Ronny and smother him with attention. He was going hard just having the young guy here and remembering what they’d done when they first met. And thinking about that made him apologize for that. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong before—that I didn’t even give you a chance to definitely agree. Well, you know.”

    He couldn’t look at Ronny. He was looking out into the river, watching fish leap up out of the water. They hadn’t been doing that when he was able to fully concentrate on the fishing.

    “You did just right. It’s what I’d come to need—in the pen, with Big Russell. I needed to have the decision, the responsibility, taken from me, like the big guys in the pen did, to be able to do it—to enjoy it and get off from it. And then I needed it, big, inside me. I needed to be taken. And then I came to rely on giving it that way to get full pleasure out of it myself. I hadn’t been able to get fully into it since then. The guys outside of prison don’t understand the power control that I came to need. You did me just great.”

    “I wanted to consume you—and I wanted to protect you,” Steve said, still not looking at Ronny, who was still somewhere behind him. But he was still there; that was what was important. He hadn’t retreated.

    Ronny laughed. “What you needed was to conquer—to fuck the shit out of me.”

    “Yeah, that, I admit. It that’s what you want, though, it’s guys like me—who have had that in prison—who are going to do that for you. That’s the role in sex with a guy that I had become used to. I needed to use you fully. I need to conquer and I need the other guy to surrender. Master and slave—and both need to want the role assigned to them.”

    “I know,” Ronny said from somewhere behind Steve. “It’s what did me. It’s what I’d come to need too.”

    “Do you think we’ll ever be able to get what we want—as much pleasure from it—as we got in that system in prison?”

    “Maybe not. Neither of us has been out long. Maybe we’re only good for others like us now. Maybe it’s some big coincidence to have a pair like us—prison-trained master and slave—living in the same county. Working across the street from each other.”

    Steve let that hang in the air for a few minutes before speaking again. “But you didn’t stay around. When I woke up, you were gone. And when I came back, looking for you, you weren’t there. I thought I’d gone too far, done too much. I thought you rejected me and were avoiding me. And I don’t have the right to push myself on you. In prison, it’s one guy getting his needs met by meeting the needs of other guys—both needing sex, and the big guy getting his sex and the little guy getting the protection—and the release from responsibility—he needs.”

    This would have been the time Steve could mention Ronny getting attacked in the parking lot of the fast-food joint and Steve protecting him, but he hesitated. Would Ronny take that as just trying to make him again? Before he could decide whether to mention it, Ronny was speaking again.

    “I know,” Ronny said. “I know how it works there. It worked for me. If Big Russell hadn’t protected me, I couldn’t have survived—or it would be just another Mr. Big who would have me. And if the bigger guys hadn’t taken me as they had, I don’t think I would have ever found full satisfaction of doing it with another guy. If you’d been there and Big Russell wasn’t, you could have been my Mr. Big.”

    “That would have been OK with you?”

    “That would have been great with me,” Ronny said. “A prison-style master and slave arrangement can mean more than protection for the little guy. It can include the little guy getting his sex too. And I wasn’t avoiding you. You were so zonked, I couldn’t wake you that morning and I had a shift to work. I can’t afford to lose this job. And while I was at work, I got news that my brother had been injured on the job in Charleston and I had to go help him out for a couple of weeks. The burger joint here let me work in one up there for a couple of weeks. I just got back the other day.”

    “So, you weren’t avoiding me?”

    “I wasn’t avoiding you, no. And I’m not avoiding you now. Big Steve,” he said. “Turn around Big Steve. And I want you to do me again . . . now. I want you to be my Mr. Big. But maybe I shouldn’t say that. Maybe we’d both enjoy it more, if I pretended I didn’t want your cock inside me again and you had to fight me to cover me. But I do want you inside me again.”

    Steve turned around and looked. Ronny was on his back, reclining against a tree trunk. He’d stripped and was completely naked, his legs bent and spread, his pelvis rolled up to receive what he knew Big Steve was packing.

    “Ronny,” Steve muttered in a chocked voice.

    “Don’t talk. Come here. Do me. Use me hard. Be my Mr. Big. Fuck me like I’d been tossed into your prison cell and you hadn’t had it for a month. Make me feel it.”

    Steve didn’t have to be asked again. He had his jeans and briefs stripped off as he stumbled to Ronny and sank down between the young man’s thighs. He already was in massive erection.

    “We got to do this right,” Steve growled. “Fight me. Make me take it. Make it the first time. Me being let into your cell and the door behind us banging shut and lock thrown. Just me and you, me making you my boy—for your first time.”

    Going with the scenario, Ronny complied, resisting. He tried to rise, to escape, and Steve backhanded him across the face, stunning him more than hurting him and making Ronny sink back to the ground. Ronny threw up his arms and pulled his knees into his chest, defensively, but not crying out, knowing there was no one there to save him. They struggled, and Big Steve backhanded Ronny across the face again, causing the young man’s body to snap back, his elbows going to the ground under him to keep his head from hitting the tree truck, and his legs to stretch out and spread. Big Steve, in a half crouch, grasped the young man’s butt cheeks and pulled Ronny’s ass up to his erection, putting Ronny’s weight on his shoulders and bringing the young man into full control. Big Steve pushed his knees between the young man’s thighs, grasped Ronny ankles, and wishboned the young man’s legs. Thrusting his hips forward, he penetrated in a brutal thrust.

    Ronny cried out and collapsed, going docile, Big Steve in full possession, as the big man took him raw, swiftly, brutally, grasping the younger man’s waist between his hands to hold him in place. Trusting up inside him, deep, as Ronny cried out, “Yes. Yes! Fuck me, Big Steve! Screw me, Master!”

    Prison rules. Prison results.

    Just as he’d learned to do in the end with any Mr. Big in a prison cell, Ronny hooked his legs on the big man’s hips, pulled himself up to where he was handing off Big Steve’s massive torso, and buried his fingernails in the man’s bulging biceps. He set his hips in motion to go with the rhythm of the fuck. Both of them were transported back to a prison cell in Beckly Camp, on a lower bunk, the searchlights in the yard beaming through the high, barred window, etching the shadows of the bars on their bare, sweating bodies, as Mr. Big covered his boy on the bed, his buttocks in motion in long, hard thrusts, and men came to the bars of their cells up and down the corridor, making music on the bars with tin cups and whistling and chattering, knowing Mr. Big was fucking his boy, egging him on.

    “Shit,” Ronny cried out as Big Steve thrust hard and deep.

    “Fuck!” he moaned as Big Steve gave him another hard thrust and reached up to clutch the young man’s throat, making him his prisoner, using him hard.

    Both men in high, mutually servicing heat. Both of them in their element.

    Mr. Big and his protected boy, getting it done. But not just protecting his boy. Giving his boy what he wanted and needed. Using his slave.

  • Charlie Gets Some

    Author’s NoteThanks to GD author James Rozo for editorial assistance.

    ****

    Heavy set, husky, or fat, whatever Charlie was called, it wasn’t good. As a kid he was tormented and ridiculed – his fat ass the butt of jokes, beaten up too. He was different from other, normal boys. His weight could be addressed… the other inclination could only be repressed, for a while at least. Neither would get him any awards in his back-water Georgia town of 810.

    At the one room school they learned him good enough.

    Reckon after eight years he had more lessons than most.

    His top priority was helping momma and losing weight, which he did. No matter what he tried, however, he couldn’t get rid of his fat ass. Big butts were the new fad for women folk, but not boys. Charlie didn’t give a rat’s ass what folk thought of him or his bubble butt.

    He only cared for men.

    And if it made him more attractive to them, he would flaunt it.

    It didn’t take a detective to figure out he was gay. His momma knew from when he was knee high to a grasshopper. A mother always knows. Never said nothing on account of him having other, more immediate issues… his weight and that fat ass of his.

    Charlie would swish it as he walked. Couldn’t be helped. Mass in motion. Physics plain and simple. Momma thought to herself, ‘oh Lordy that boy is going to get himself into some mighty fine trouble. That sweet ass drawing attention all around town.’

    Little did she know.

    It would result in the best sex he would ever get.

    ****

    Old man Manfred lived down the street. A comely woman, presumed to be his wife by townsfolk, clung to him as the years consumed her youth. But they never married. Lois was always too busy entertaining gentlemen callers. And Manfred facilitated transactions as her agent.

    That is, until she up and died last year.

    Aids, if rumors were to be believed.

    She refused to see a doctor despite Manfred’s pleas, and continued plying her trade. A one trick pony, spreading her legs was all she knew. Much less profitable at her advanced age, but Manfred still enjoyed the income that supplemented his monthly government assistance checks.

    Manfred looked the other way and kept a low profile.

    But he had unfulfilled needs. A powerful hankering for a piece of ass.

    Providence smiled upon him during a recent trip into town. The old codger’s attention was captured by a large swishing bottom. Plump, pretty as a peach, perfect, ripe for the plucking. He was surprised as all get out to discover it belonged to a boy. Charlie!

    And he knew he must possess it.

    ****

    In a small rural town everyone knows everyone’s business.

    And Charlie’s mamma knew about Manfred.

    Hearing through the grapevine about the passing of his poor wife, Charlie’s mamma found out the old man needed help. Typical stuff – yard work, cleaning up, grocery shopping, and the like. So, being a good Christian, she sent Charlie over to help him with chores.

    Besides, it would do some good for Charlie to be around a man.

    A proper role model.

    Manfred was blown away. The angels delivered this here boy right to his doorstep. Well, Gerald Tyrone Manfred never looked a gift horse in the mouth. Grinning like a possum eating a sweet potato, he told the boy he’d love to have some help around the house.

    Might be able to even learn him some things too.

    “Your daddy and grandpappy gone son?”

    “Yep, gramps died when I was real young. Never knew my daddy”.

    “Hmm. Boys need to know stuff. Reckon I can show you what they should have. I’ll tell you what, I’ll help you in exchange for workin’ at my place. What do you say to that?”

    “That be fine, sir. Mama says whatever I can do, it be good Christian fortitude.”

    “Don’t rightly know what that means, but I’ll take it as an agreement.”

    ****

    One afternoon, hotter than hell’s pepper patch, Charlie made a discovery.

    Cleaning out a cabinet, he came across a strange book. Inside were all types of pen and ink drawings. Men and women. Naked. Doing sex stuff. Heavens to Betsy there was some drawings where women were kissing other women. Men with men too!

    He started to put it back when Manfred walked into the room.

    “What’s that boy? Give it here.”

    “Just a book of drawings I found,” turning beet red. Knowing the contents, Charlie was embarrassed but handed the book to the man. Momma always said a boy needs to do what he’s told.

    “Aw, that was Lois’s. Mighty talented. Hmmm, don’t remember that one.” And a couple of, “Whew, look at that?” then asked, “What do y’all think Charlie? Girl could draw, couldn’t she?”

    “Darn tootin’, but why she draw all these people having sex fo?”

    “It’s what made her happy. Bless her heart. It’s all she ever knowed. It’s good though, not to be embarrassed about it, y’all understand?”

    “Yezzir.  Reckon I like this one best,” pointing to a detailed sketch of two well-hung men copulating like randy barnyard animals in rutting season.

    “That’s friends she used to show hospitality to. Why’d you like that one best?”

    “Don’t know, just do,” Charlie said, sweat rolling down his face.

    “Well, they was gay as the day was long. I remember they were really happy about something that happened up North. Stonewall or something. Proud to call them’s my friends. So Charlie, really… why you fancy this here picture so much?”

    “Not sure. Makes me feel like I’m okay, normal, and such. Gives me a hankering to scratch myself in a very ah, personal way. Blowin’ up a storm in my britches.”

    “I can fix that Charlie, if you want?”

    “How, sir?”

    “We friends now… call me Gerald.”

    “Um hmm, okay Mr. Gerald.”

    “See boy, I got the victuals you been wantin’. Here let me show ya, ”caressing his produce, slowly unhitching his well-worn overalls, down a muscular torso and legs, pooling at his feet. Wearing no breaches, his ballooning cock reached for the sun.

    “What you think boy?

    With disbelieving eyes, Charlie was more nervous than a bunch of long-tailed cats in a room of rocking chairs. Never seen a man-sized one up close before (not counting Pastor Jacob behind the barn at the church picknick last summer with young Mary).

    “Sweet baby Jesus… it’s way longer and thicker than mine.”

    Reaching out, he grasped and squeezed the dark ebony shaft. Amazing texture. Soft velvet steel engorged with blood, pulsing with life. Radiating heat like a dirt road in the Georgia noonday sun. Too thick to get his little hands all around it.

    “Y’all can see better down on your knees, boy.”

    That was all the prompting he needed. And he willingly descended to his destiny. Powerful and pretty, he ogled the rapidly expanding tool. And slowly pet it.

    “Feels good when you touch it like that. You okay with this boy?”

    “Sure. Always wanted to… um, I mean… you got a nice one.”

    “Thanks. It gives powerful pleasure. Don’t pay no mind to whatever anyone tells you about goin to hell. Why did God make cocks so irresistible if he didn’t want you to play with them?”

    “I reckon that’s right.”

    “A body is to be enjoyed and shared with friends. We’re friends, right Charlie?”

    “Oh, yes we rightly are Mr. Gerald.”

    Charlie slowly pulled up and down more confidently, retracting the head’s bonnet.

    “You’ve got mightily talented hands.”

    “Thanks. I do mine like this when momma ain’t around. Sometimes I also, ah, I like to…”

    “You like to do what Charlie?”

    “Um… I don’t know why, but I like to put things in my butt.”

    “If it feels good then you should do it. Long as it’s safe.”

    “What you mean?”

    “Don’t want nothin’ too rough, or somethin’ that’ll get stuck.”

    “My brush handle hurt some. You reckon, your cock would fit in me?”

    “I do. Amazin’ how a hole can expand. Only one way to be certain,” he laughed. “But first you have to get it fully hard. Go ahead and kiss it; then we’ll see about your ass.”

    Leaning forward, he extended his curious tongue… tasting the masculine flavors. Ripe. Earthy. Delicious. Licking around the head, around the rim, he opened wide to feed his desire. Taking hold at the base, he slowly moved down the ebony shaft. Almost three quarters of the way.

    “Dang it, y’all doing great boy!”

    This kid’s a natural, he thought, placing both hands behind the boy’s head.

    “Take a little more,” pressing downward.

    And Charlie did. Balls deep.

    “Y’all keep it up and I’ll blow my load in yo’ mouth soon.”

    Charlie pulled back. Spit coming out of his mouth with the cock.

    “Oh no you don’t, y’all promised we could try my backside.”

    Manfred laughed. “Now, hold on boy, I ain’t so certain you can take it… being new to this and all. But we can try if you want. Shuck them overalls, bend over this here table, and let me see that ass.”

    Standing up, he did as told.

    “Lordy, that’s one fine caboose. Looks like a woman’s… only better.”

    “Thanks Mr. Gerald. It’s the only thing that I never lost much size on when I lost all my weight. Momma says it’s probably the good lord giving me a sign.”

    “It sure‘ nuf give me a sign. Y’all sure about getting poked? Once we start, ain’t no stopping.

    “Yeah, I’m good… been wantin’ this for awhile.”

    Manfred retrieved a jar of pork lard; slathered his shaft.

    “Shit, I’m getting ahead o’ myself.”

    Leaning over, spreading Charlie’s legs apart, rotating the boy’s hips, pulling the meaty cheeks open, he extends his tongue and taste the prize. Licking around the rim, darting in-and-out, he enjoys the delicious flavor of southern country cuisine.

    Enjoying the amazin’ feeling, unlike anything he’s ever experienced before, Charlie moans in pleasure. Wiggling the fat ass from side to side, instinctively backing up slightly, trying to get the wet tongue deeper inside, he begs for more.

    After ten minutes Manfred pulls back.

    Dipping fat calloused fingers into the lard, he teases the hole with first one and then two fingers. Provided with relatively easy access and hearing no protests of pain, he’s got no doubt that the boy has indeed been playin’ and stuffin’ stuff up inside his chute.

    “Alright, you ready? Time to bust this ass open.”

    Taking position, ensuring alignment, he places the engorged cockhead up against paradise and pushes inside the cherry gates. Encountering only token resistance, he’s surprised and pleased that almost half the shaft finds accommodations inside the boy.

    Reaching an internal bend, however, Charlie jumps in protest.

    “Lordy, that stings a bit.”

    “It’s okay son, just relax and open that ass fo’ me. I’ll give y’all a moment to get used to the girth.” He knew he needed to act fast. Didn’t want the boy jumpin’ up, runnin’ and hollering all the way home, telling his mamma that the old man cornholed him against his will.

    No need to worry.

    After a few minutes the boy settled down, started moaning again and moved his ass on his own… back-and-forth, up-and-down, like he was riding a pony at the county fair. It helped that Manfred reached around and was strokin’ his boy cock.

    “That feels wonderful!” exclaimed Charlie in a husky tone.

    “No rush. Just take that cock,” pushing more and more inside, rearranging the boy’s internal organs. Soon enough he was at the best part… the last two inches, the thickest part, at the base of his cock. Holding the boy’s hips tightly, he gave Charlie a warning.

    “Steady now, here’s the last few inches.”

    “I can take it… give it to me.”

    And he did.

    All of it. Balls deep.

    “Oooooh… so full,” whimpered Charlie.

    Luxuriating in the succulent glove, the old man was blown away. The convulsing chute was squeezing his shaft, almost painfully so. It was obvious the boy wanted, no needed, to be fucked. Slave to his Southern Hospitality upbringing, Manfred generously accommodated the boy.

    And rammed up inside. Repeatedly.

    Powerful shaking and quaking moved the table across the kitchen.

    “Harder, yeah like that,” demanded the bitch in heat.

    The room was filled with moaning, groaning, grunting, yelling, and whimpering – the song of angels celebrating the holy union of flesh and spirit. Halleluiah! Too bad Paster Jacob and momma didn’t stop by or they would have fainted from witnessing the miracle.

    “Take that cock boy… feel it fill your soul with glory.”

    Charlie could indeed feel it. Every inch of Baptist redemption. Powerful and purposefully possessing his posterior. Deep inside his inner sanctum. No longer jerking his own cock, the boy was on the brink of a shattering climax, stimulated from inside out.

    Manfred pulled all the way back and plowed impossibly forward – pokin’ the boy’s stomach, compressing the diaphragm, triggering Charlie’s hands-free ejaculation.

    “Oh Jesus, I’m cummming!” Charlie screamed.

    “Fuck yeah boy! Tighten up that ass. Damn, it’s happening!”

    Manfred stiffened and unloaded his balls.

    Grunting in satisfaction, releasing the boy’s bruised and battered ass, he slowly deflated and exited the glorious hole. Looking at the wide-open cunt with pride, he realized he owned that irreplaceable cherry. Many men will surely enjoy a piece over of the years… but he had been the first.

    “Wow, Mr. Gerald that was great. Thank you for fucking me!”

    “Y’all welcome, Charlie.”

                                                                                        ****

    After that first time, Charlie was always at Manfred’s house looking after the old man. It seemed all Charlie had to do to get the old man going was to swish his ass while doing chores. God took care of the rest – providing inspiration and strength to do His work.

    When mamma asked him if he was happy helping Mr. Manfred he replied:

    “Yes ma’am. It’s just good Christian fortitude.”

  • Straight and Bound

    Curt

    Part 12 – the Big Samoan

    Curt’s main guard, referred to by the Facility workers as the “Big Samoan” grew lustful every time he saw Curt and his classic v-shaped lean muscled college wrestler torso, his meaty perfect pecs, thighs and legs. It was also the straight boy’s long lashed green eyes that was the envy of many a girl, and his thick brown hair, capping his narrow head, with a perfect nose and mouth, sexy wispy treasure trail and the manly nest of curly pubes and armpit hair.

    To the Big Samoan and the other guarding and tormenting Curt, their handsome captive, for all his boyish youthful good looks and smooth physique, was a virile man’s man that naturally attracted intense desire from women of all ages – and envy from many men.

    The Big Samoan realized a few days after Curt’s abduction that he was becoming obsessed with the youth. He felt an overwhelming intense erotic feeling the first moment he saw the boy’s sculptured backside as the back of his sweaty t-shirt hiked up exposing his tanned skin and waist band of his boxer briefs as they dragged and then carried him from the van when he first arrived at the Facility. He felt it when he carried the struggling boy on his shoulder, hearing his enraged youthful cursing, feeling his tight muscled body and inhaling his straight boy scent, feeling his muscled twisting body grinding into his shoulders and arms like a reluctant lover.

    All of their straight boy victims were handsome, some with model looks and others with the “boy-next-door” type looks that wouldn’t turn all heads in a room, but still possessed attractive features that many desired to see react to being tied down, edged against their will, whipped and fucked. All of their captives had good or decent builds, though differing in the amount of muscle and definition. Some boys were the product of gym training and others the result of natural workout or a lean twink look that had natural definition.

    Curt, to the Big Samoan and others at the Facility, was in a special category with a build and definition that was both natural and developed in the gym. To them, Curt’s gym workout only built upon what he already had naturally, building perfect tone and chiseled Greek statute-like definition to each muscle that didn’t seem narcissistic, but rather a celebration of the perfect Adonis.

    No matter the differences in build and handsome looks, all of their captive boys had cocks, balls, armpits, necks, torsos, sides, thighs, legs, feet, shoulders, backs and butt cheeks and assholes that were sensitive to touch and tongue, and reacted wildly to being tickled. All of them.

    Except one.

    The Big Samoan smiled to himself, rubbing his massive junk, remembering that boy.

    His name was Josh, a handsome naturally muscled 23 year old straight surfer boy with dirty blonde slightly long hair on the top with buzz cut sides who they abducted after he was headed alone to his car on a deserted beach. He didn’t pay attention to the here guys in a van parked next to his beat up 15 year old pickup, nor the large truck with three other guys, parked three spaces on the other side. There were always people parked at this beach watching the waves, smoking weed or to walk on the dunes. He wondered briefly why they would be here so late – everyone else had left hours earlier and this was the first time he could recall that anyone would show up now, with the overcast and winds kicking up as the sun was going down. But he dismissed them from his mind, as he always did to anyone he saw.

    Dripping wet, he got to his pickup, opening the driver’s door and reached in for a large towel on the seat to dry off his hair and face. He left the door open to give him some privacy to quickly change, unzipping and slipping off his tight body suit. Totally naked, his long limp cut dick and balls dangling from his dirty blond pubes, he noticed the three guys in the truck three spaces staring at him. He forgot that they were there. The pickup truck door only blocked any view of his nakedness from someone on the beach. They didn’t seem offended and Josh didn’t get the impression that their stare had any sexual connotation but rather simple surprise that a guy was stripping naked in public. Well, Josh thought, surfers do that all the time after surfing and getting their wet suits off. Josh simply nodded his head acknowledging them, as they did in return and then turned their gaze back toward the ocean. 

    Josh quickly dismissed them from his mind and attention as he always did to others around him that he didn’t consider important or of interest. He quickly slipped on boxer shorts and then board shorts that he left inside his pickup, deciding to not put on a t-shirt, though the cold blustery winds were picking up now, making his the quarter sized nipples on his muscled meaty pecs hard. He liked the feel of the cold wind on his body now that he had dried off, refreshing him. He preferred to go shirtless as much as possible feeling constrained wearing shirts of any kind.  Going shirtless most of the day, especially in the summer, gave his body a naturally deep tan that added to his surfer boy good looks.

    Plugging earphones from his I-Phone and now listening to music, he let his guard down completely, never thinking for a moment he was in any danger. Barefoot, he went to the back of his pickup where his board was leaned against, noticing the guys in the van parked next to him on the other side now out, looking toward the ocean, as if ready to walk on the beach despite the winds. Josh, earphones blocking off any other sound, nodded a wordless greeting to them which they returned, but otherwise ignored him. Moving his head to the rhythm of the music blasting through is earphones, Josh bent over to put his surf board in the back of his pickup.

    Suddenly he felt a damp cloth covered hand cover his face, with large hairy arms and hands holding his struggling muscled body tight, two fingers pinching his right nipple hard, that caused Josh to gasp in pain, inhaling even more of the fumes until he blacked out.

    The surfer boy was tied up and tossed in the van, and taken to the Facility. There he was tied spread-eagle tied to a bed like frame. As he came to, he cursed and yelled at his captors, struggling like a wild animal. Already shirtless, they admired with hungry eyes Josh’s  mounded pecs centered by salmon colored nipples, his smooth torso and 6 pack abs as he cursed at them.  As Josh struggled furiously, his muscled body sweated, and though not hard, the bulge in front of his board shorts seem to grow as the cloth and underwear bunched up as he tried to twist and turn his body.  Without warning, dozens of hands ripped off his board shorts and then his boxer shorts as. Josh yelled and cursed even louder.

    The boy was defiant and resisted initial attempts to arouse him, though after an hour and a half of non-stop slow edging of his cock and sensual attacks on his helpless body, his 7 inch prick finally grew from limp to semi-hard to full scale steel pole erection.  After another half hour of intense unwanted forced edging, the straight youth, to his shock and dismay, shot off a massive load.

    “You sick fucks!!!! Let me go!!! You fuckin had your fun let me go NOW!!!” he yelled at them, more enraged them before, disturbed though he tried to hide it, that other guys could get his dick boned hard and shoot.

    But this boy was a rare exception with no appreciable reaction to post orgasm stroking or rubbing of his cockhead or shaft – and no reaction, at first to attempts to tickle his feet or pits or sides. He glared back at his tormentors, cursing them, spitting at them. His non-reaction was simply a product of how long it took for his skin and body reacted to touch, even by girls. 

    He was immune to any of their many attempts to tickling. It wasn’t his constant defiance that angered his tormentors but his lack of response or reaction to their fingers, hands and tongues that seemed to them in part his natural body response. But in large part they saw it as simply sheer willful arrogant defiance and hatred of being touched in any way by guys – especially by what he saw as pervert faggots. That lack of response, for whatever reasons, came across as an act of sheer defiance to their will, and that fueled their collective anger with the single focus of crushing it.

    They would make the boy pay terribly for that and because of the extra time it took for them to finally unlock the door to his body’s weaknesses to tickling and to post-orgasm tormenting. Until that happened, it seemed to them – and to Josh – that the captive youth was somehow in control, even if he was bound and at their mercy. After several more hours, into the next day, they carefully planned repeated attempts they finally broke down the boy’s bravado and defenses to reacting to the tickling as they knew they would. It started slow – almost sensual touching.

    Nothing in his previous experiences prepared him for a prolonged endless attack on his body. He assumed their touching and fondling would last but a few minutes – 10 minutes tops before they got bored when he didn’t react. But they kept on and on and on and on until finally he broke. 

    The boy glared at his tormentors spouting off mindless threats and curses as his body slightly quivered, then several minutes later, trembled visibly from the touching – the first little sign that his sad defenses were crumbling. Josh wasn’t counting on their unrelenting attack on his body – he thought he could out last them. And after shooting his first load against his will and showing no reaction from the rubbing on his dick after wards, he thought he did outlast them. 

    But instead of stopping – like he expected after sex with girls when one or both came – his abductors just kept on rubbing, touching, stroking and fondling his spent dick. They refused to stop. Fingers, slick with his cum and lube, went up and down the underside of his semi-hard cock, rubbing the area just below the helmet head of his knob, over and over, causing him to gasp fromt he ultra pleasurable sensation. 

    On and on. 

    And the boy – nearing the hour mark, slowly began to panic. My god – they weren’t going to stop.

    Two and then three hours later, feathery fingers up and down his ass crack, and up and down his spine. Light touches along his sides. Licking and light sucking of his toes and pits, and his tormentors, edged and milked out a second massive load from the surfer boy, as he cursed them and struggled even harder to break free. That second load was the key in unlocking his resistance to post orgasm tormenting and tickling.

    As the stroking and rubbing of his cock head continued after shooting his huge second loan of straight boy spooge, his body jerked and then buckled involuntarily as his handsome face grimaced in a hideous frown as if in pain. He clenched his teeth, his fists closed tight and toes curled as he tried in vain not to react – but now the overpowering unbearable sensation of having his knob rubbed after shooting his second load was getting to him. He almost never fucked a girl more than once in a night – so he never experienced before this sensation that for his body, was only triggered by a second orgasm. Now all the sensations he would feel – to his horror.

    His tormentors continued the agonizing cock polishing as his body grew taut and he finally shrieked for them to stop. But they kept on as they also began a slow relentless sensual ticklish touching, with his shrieking mixed with giggling, coughing and then clenched laughter that he tried desperately to hold back. Another 10 minutes his face was a picture of sheer agony and every few seconds a train of moans, giggles and then growing panting laughter would burst out, though he still tried to hold it in. But his tormentors knew they were seconds away from overcoming any resistance and defiance as dozens of fingers, hands and tongues assaulted his body everywhere, focusing on his toes, soles of his two feet, armpits, sides, ears and neck. The attack was too much for Josh now. He exploded into hysterical pure masculine howling laughing and then after he realized they would not stop as the tickling intensified, his voice quivered and moaned, into pure high pitched screams. As he panted and tried to catch his breath, his body thrashing, he pleaded angrily for them to stop and when they just continued their relentless attack, was reduced to pathetic begging.

    But they showed absolutely no mercy to Josh once they finally found how to get him to react, He started to gasp when fingers touched and tickled his large nut sack that now was extremely sensitive. And then the tickle torture and post orgasm attack on the boy intensified like no other attack on a previous boy – or since. Every part of his body. No breaks – just endless tickling as far as he knew because they only stopped when he passed out. Once revived, they resumed with a vengeance until he passed out or tired from the sensation. They simply revived him or waited to the exact moment the sensations returned.

    And they always did. No mercy on that boy, the Big Samoan remembered which seemed to fuel their own lust to assault him.

    They tickled tortured him over the point of insanity causing endless howling, shrieks and begging. Stiff feathers, paint brushes, sticks of ice, dozens of relentless fingers and hands tormented his buckling body.

    They even brought the boy totally bound and gagged to a biker bar 70 miles away, and offered his exposed pits, stomach, sides, balls and cock, thighs and feet to the over 100 bikers inside. The roar of excitement greeted them – and Josh was covered totally by clawing tickling hands, fingers, tongues on every part of his body – especially his pits and feet and soles. They lined up to tickle him without mercy and let up for two hours as he shrieked and screamed.

    It was there the Facility decided the boy would be fucked and fucked hard. The Big Samoan was given the honors to break the boy’s virgin tight ass – followed by anyone else in the biker bar.

    The Big Samoan remembered, licking his lips, how tight Josh’s surfer boy asshole, with a halo of soft curly dirty blondish hairs dusting his ass crack and taint that added to the boy’s that made manlier and more desirable to break. The hairs there made Josh – after he shot his second load – extremely ticklish and sensitive in that area, around behind his scrotum and taint and around his tight hole. The boy wailed and thrashed at being touched and tickled there, just seconds before the Big Samoan had his time to fuck him a day before he was shipped to his new owners. The boy froze when he felt the enormous head of the Big Samoan’s bat like dick rubbing his ass crack and then pushing at his hole.

    “No!!!! No!!!! No fucking way man!!!!!” the boy whispered knowing it was futile.

    Josh was stoic through the first part of the brutal rape of his ass – gasping once or twice – heavy tears in his eyes betraying the horror and overwhelming pain he felt. Josh had tried to hold back any outburst of pain. But the Big Samoan wasn’t having any of that – he torqued, twisted, pulled all the way out and plunged back into the tight hole in one shove as Josh gasped and cried out in sheer pain, his eyes bugged out in terror feeling what seemed to him an endless enormous flagpole being shoved slowly up his ass. He felt sure that it would rip and shred his insides as the Big Samoan easily broke down any resistance and kept plunging deep inside Josh. 

    “OOOOOOOH GOD!!!! AAAAHHHH!!!!!” Josh screamed out, unable to hold back the incredible pain.

    The Big Samoan’s enormous hard 14 inch steel rod plunged in and out like a machine with each deep thrust into Josh’s clenched hot hole. Josh, his eyes filled with tears of pain and rage, yelled obscenities at his rapist and continued to struggle but his defiance crumbled as the deep brutal fucking thrusts tore into his ass chute. 

    The Big Samoan, loving the resistance and the incredible tightness of Josh’s clenched hole, got even harder. He slapped the boy’s taut muscled ass checks hard as his enormous flag pole fuck meat drilled its full throbbing length deep inside him. The huge man’s big ball sack slapped loudly against Josh’s trembling ass cheeks as a horrible coda to each thrust that reminded Josh how deep another man’s prick was inside of him. Each thrust of the Big Samoan’s enormous dick caused a loud gasp of intense pain from Josh in a choking sobbing voice.

    Some 45 minutes later of shoving his huge cock in and out like a fuck machine into the straight surfer boy, the Big Samoan grunted loudly several times threw his head back and made five piston like deep thrusts shooting a huge thick load deep into the boy’s ass.

    Though shaking from the intense pain and humiliation from the ordeal, incredibly, Josh was still defiant, still fought back after the Big Samoan was done, as he pulled out his still hard dick. The surfer boy, hating what was done to him, clenched hard when the next tormentor lined up his cock to rape him, not realizing that by doing so he increased the pain for himself. Sometimes, including when the Big Samoan raped him, the invading hard cocks would rub a place inside his ass chute that caused an incredible intense sensation different from the horrible pain that caused his dick at times to go semi-hard.

    The surfer boy’s mind was overwhelmed and sickened by the thrusting pain but bewildered by that incredible sensation that sometimes made him feel like he was going to shoot a load. What the fuck was happening a small part of Josh’s brain wondered, though that thought vanished quickly as the sensation was washed away by the intense pain of being fucked. He never before had his prostate stimulated by any of the girls he had sex with, never wanting a girl to stick their fingers up his ass.

    Like being forced earlier to get hard and cum against his will by other men, the feeling of being momentarily aroused by a sensation he never felt before while being brutally raped caused Josh further anguish that he could be so manipulated that he masked with renewed rage.

    One after another, some 40 guys shoved their hard cocks into the suffering boy’s hole, as his tormentors pinched and bit his neck, sides and chest, giving special attention at twisting and pulling at his now reddened and extremely sore nipples. Josh’s squirming feet and toes, torso and armpits were tongued, sucked and tickled all through his ordeal that caused him to involuntarily clench tighter his sore abused straight boy asshole that caused him more pain as each man plunged their dicks into him.

    After being raped over and over, Josh’s tanned sweat covered muscled body was a canvas of hundreds of pinch and bite marks, with warm cum leaking out of his hole.

    Josh was a basket case when they were through with him and after a week, they sold him to an extremely rich sadistic man who specialized in endless tickle torture of “All American” type straight boys, who would be tied up naked and at the mercy of men who showed absolutely none.  The secret of Josh’s initial defiance and lack of response to tickling was passed on to his new owners. They loved tying him spread eagle on a elevated iron frame that exposed every part of his body including the soles of his feet. Dozens of fingers, hands, tongues and devices attacked his helpless body in one endless session of extreme tickle torture after another.  

    Josh, the Big Samoan heard later, tried to commit suicide several times following several seemingly endless intense tickle torture sessions that drove the boy over the edge. Those tickle torture sessions of Josh first concentrated on cruel sadistic tickling of the boy’s feet and toes made slippery and ultra-sensitive with light oil, in a week long endless session. Those endless sessions were followed by endless full body tickle torture, followed again by feet tickling, with the sessions repeating over and over with only a day or two break in between.

    The Big Samoan knew the surfer boy was still alive, checking on his status a few days earlier. His sadistic owners sent the Facility a three hour video of a recent ordeal that Josh was forced to endure. In that incredible video and in nearly all the other sessions he was forced to endure now, the unfortunate surfer boy was subjected to the intense non-stop tickle torture sessions while tied to a non-stop fucking machine with stim pads and rings on his balls and cock. With all that torment, Josh was kept healthy and in muscled shape to endure it even if he was driven each time to the edge of insanity if not over.

    The Big Samoan remembered how Josh’s incredibly tight ass hole gripped his huge cock and the feeling of the heat of his ass chute and struggling body trapped beneath him. For the Big Samoan it was extremely erotic to see and hear those videos of the formerly arrogant surfer boy scream and shriek from the endless tickle torture, dildo fucking and other torments inflicted on his body. The Big Samoan smiled at that hot memory of Josh.

    Aaah, he was a good one the Big Samoan thought. He wouldn’t mind having a taste of that boy again.  

    But then he drew his attention back to his new favorite boy of all time – Curt.

    Normally a fresh new straight boy abducted and delivered, like Curt, would be raped that same day, unless a potential buyer gave specific instructions that they wanted a virgin. The Big Samoan knew it would happen to Curt because the boy’s extraordinary looks made it financially advantageous for the Facility to arrange his public gang rape to be viewed by many in a live audience at the Facility and via live stream video – rather than a private rape by a private buyer. It wasn’t a hard and fast rule with the Facility, but the Big Samoan had been around long enough to discern which boy was likely to meet that fate versus another.

    All he knew that there were some big plans on when and how that would happen for Curt. He couldn’t wait to see the arrogant straight boy tied up spread eagle and have his tight cherry asshole ripped by countless number of eager dicks, including his own. It would happen. He looked forward with excitement to that moment. He could wait. And after that he would also get his turn as he always did with the boys they got for a full night of private time where he could do anything he wanted to the bound, struggling, abused straight boys. He would have Curt for sure.

    But there was a delay. Curt was considered special. More beautiful than the others perhaps? It was something about his personality too – his cockiness and arrogance and defiance toward them. But there was something else beyond that – at least to those who controlled the Facility. 

    But with Curt there was still another reason why his torments were spread out over weeks, with long rest and exercise periods to keep his youthful body as muscled, lean and toned as the day he was abducted and why his inevitable gang rape and other tortures had not yet happened.

    Curt was one of a select few whose body – especially his cock and balls – were ultra-sensitive to any touch as if each of his fine body hairs were electrical conduits wired through his entire body causing immediate unbearable near ticklish sensations when touched or even brushed lightly. They were amazed – Curt reacted in terror even when fingers were just a half inch away from his skin – the very thought was sending the boy into hysterics that he tried desperately to hide and control. Blowing air from their mouths just inches away from his pits or pubes or sides caused Curt to flinch and yell. The boy was off the charts in his reactions – and clearly was their most ticklish victim to date.

    He was extremely sensitive to any touching under his hairy armpits, ears, neck, feet, in between his toes, upper legs, belly button and stomach – far more than nearly all of their previous victims, except for a small handful. And none of them, while cute or handsome, ranked in the same league as Curt’s model like looks, with his almost perfect proportionate muscled chiseled body. Curt’s cock and balls were extremely sensitive, especially when his knob polished. The underside of his long fuck stalk, when hard, was extremely sensitive and his sweet spot was just under the helmet shaped knob. And from that first (and so far only) long edging session that first day and night he was abducted, they knew every spot. Virtually none of his sexual partners prior to his abduction – all females – knew that, and if they touched that sweet spot of Curt’s, it was by accident when he moaned or gasped. Their attention to it though, like so many other females, was not prolonged or intense.

    They also knew he was extremely ticklish when they did the initial explorations of his body when he was first abducted and then later when he was stripped of his clothes, and prepped to be edged. Curt’s involuntary reactions and responses to being edged, cock polished, milked – and his reactions to post orgasm stroking and polishing of his thick long fuck meat were off the charts – and that was the main reason the Big Samoan realized why this particular straight frat jock boy was so desirable to him – and to so many in the facility and the viewing audience.

    He had not yet been tickle tortured yet – though he clearly was trying to hide his sheer terror of that happening thinking perhaps they would forget about it or feel it wasn’t worth it because he wasn’t ticklish.

    Before his abduction, Curt could always control and stop anyone from tickling him. Anyone who tried received an instant stern command warning, followed by a hard push by his arms and hands of the offending fingers if his command was not instantly obeyed. Male or female he would instantly rebuke any attempt to jokingly tickle him. So it never happened to him.

    But that was before his abduction. Now he was at the mercy of sadistic captors who loved to tickle torture all their victims. Every boy they abducted before and after Curt were terrorized by the prolonged endless tickle torture of every part of their bodies.

    The Big Samoan realized he was more obsessed with Curt than many of the other boys they previously abducted partly also because of the hidden videos and pictures that his apartment neighbor had taken of him. That was a treasure find for the Facility – normally they would never have that type of intrusive documentation of a victim before he was abducted. They might have regular photos and videos of their victims – either on them – in sports or family events or among friends. Some shirtless. But nothing like this.

    Never before had a boy they abducted had with them what appeared to be hidden videos taken of himself, focusing on his chest, and particularly his crotch and butt. After careful investigation, the Facility realized the videos and pictures were taken by Curt’s neighbor without his knowledge – something that Curt explained on the day of his capture after his tormentors found the camera in his bag.

    But it was that very hidden nature of the videos and pictures taken by his neighbor that was so alluring to his captors. The videos and pictures seem to stalk Curt’s every move at the apartment complex he lived, or nearby parks or neighborhood mostly at times when he was shirtless, working out, working on his car, but sometimes just walking around or flirting with girls. The focus of the camera always seemed to worship the boy’s body, zooming in on his tight ass, or pecs, armpit hairs or belly button and crotch.

    And since it was hidden video and pictures, Curt always appeared unaware, his body and sexiness totally not posed and totally natural. The pictures and videos always showed a confident, Alpha Male who clearly had every woman – and probably a lot of guys – under his spell.

    One of the many video clips showed Curt’s muscled arms were up behind his head, exposing in an almost erotic way, his deep armpits covered by a masculine thick patch of light brown wiry hairs. With his arms up, his shirtless body was put on full display as he lay on the padded lounge chair, wearing medium cut loose damp shorts that bulged lewdly in the crotch.

    Another clip showed Curt’s golden tanned body the lens focused on his two defined muscled mounds of pecs centered by quarter size nipples, down to his 8 pack sculpted abs and sexy belly button highlight by a distinct treasure trail of wispy hairs, that all glistened with sun tan oil and pure male sweat soaking up the rays of the hot sun.

    The camera captured even the smallest details – Curt’s perspiration that dampened his dirty blonde brownish hair and made his shorts cling lewdly, showing off every muscle, bulge, and crevice of his bubble tight ass and crotch down to his size 13 bare feet and perfectly clipped toes. Even at rest, his lean athletic muscled body looked both inviting and intimidating whether from those longing stares came from females and even males who one could observe were sneaking many long peeks at the half naked golden Adonis.

    For several more minutes he lay there, eyes closed, as the view of his large bulge seemed to show almost an obscene outline of his manhood as the video camera zoomed in even closer as it panned his body. Suddenly in the video, two beautiful girls came up to the resting youth as they flirted with him – clearly hot for the young God. His masculine yet youthful reedy voice could be heard flirting back, with a slight, very slight movement of the large bulge in his clinging shorts that showed the boy getting aroused.

    The hidden camera captured everything – a predator in his natural environment being secretly filmed – and now watched by those who preyed upon him.

    The Big Samoan would always spend hours watching those videos or pics after Curt was in his cell for the night sleeping and couldn’t believe how beautiful and alluring his body was. The Big Samoan especially liked straight boys who felt they were God’s gift to women. Those videos and pictures of Curt showed he was definitely an Adonis.

    The Samoan’s steel hard thick 14 inch fearsome looking fuck meat that resembled when hard a steel pipe, cured any straight boy of the notion of being god’s gift to women – with a slow push, painfully slow thrusting of his huge enormous fat dick into their tight clinging hole as they screamed. They always did. He was always slow and deliberate – pushing his enormous peach sized knob, almost kissing his straight boy’s victim’s tight quivering asshole ring clenched in a desperate futile attempt to stop the brutal rape that was going to happen.

    The enormous head would touch the ass ring, lightly poking at it, rubbing it as the boy squirmed, yelled, and struggled. He would always pull back and then run the head and the partial length of his huge steel hard prong up and down the boy’s ass crack. He loved pushing his giant prick inside a boy – and then just holding inside, forcing the boy to feel and accept the huge log inside his shit hole.

    The horror of feeling that gigantic club sized weapon seemed to always be the clincher in breaking down continued resistance of all of his previous straight boy victims. He would bring the huge wide head of his enormous hard thick and long steel pole back down to the quivering tight hole – clenched even more now in fear – as he pushed through the ring as if it was butter. They always screamed, even if they tried desperately not to, even if they gritted their teeth and tried to block out the horrible assault.

    The Big Samoan always went slow to make the boy feel it – to break down the boy’s futile attempt to stop him. They always failed. Even the most defiant cocky straight boy ended up buckling wild and screaming from the intense sharp unending pain and the sheer horror and humiliation of being raped so brutally. The Big Samoan not only took their virgin cherry, but smashed it.

    Yeah – it always happened that way. His hard long cock plunged into the backsides of an unwilling Adonis like Curt would always cure them of arrogance. He looked forward to taking Curt on that long ride that he promised himself would be long, painful to Curt.

    He would – like all his other boys – try desperately not to scream – but they always did as he knew Curt would too. He knew Curt would resist – and looked forward to that, and would force him to see the enormous prick as it fucked his tight straight ass.

    He would dominate the boy completely – but also knew that he lusted after the boy’s incredible body. He wanted to fuck him hard – but also wanted to pleasure him over and over forcing loads of cum from his straight boy dick against his will. He wanted to lavish his Big Samoan tongue and mouth on every muscle, crevice, nodule, hair and hole. And tickle the shit out of him. Yeah, he would do all those things he thought.

    He sat and watched yet another video clip of this incredibly handsome yet arrogant youth lounging in his clinging swim suit, showing off his youthful muscled body and lewdly, the outline of his fuck meat, at his apartment pool. The Big Samoan’s enormous cock flexed hard watching it. What a beautiful man this Curt was.

    He smiled and wished he could display the video of Curt’s gang rape – when it happened – to those people who adored and lusted after him at his apartment complex and on the college campus where he reigned as a king.

    He fantasized the very moment when it would actually happen, when he would finally be able to pinch and pull at Curt’s large salmon colored quarter sized nipples, to twist and yank hard at those sexy masculine nodules centered on both muscled mounds of his defined pecs. The Big Samoan promised himself that he would bite, nibble, chew and pull at those nipples until he screamed like the bitch he now was as he plunged his dick into his virgin ass.

    It wouldn’t be long before he got his turn. He could wait. He always did.

    Part 13 – Curt Prepared for His Next Ordeal

    A week after his abduction, Curt was given time to rest and forced to do a daily regime of strict exercise and diet that matched what he did before he was kidnapped. It took several days for the straight boy to get a sense of his Alpha Male manhood back – but his captors wanted him to recover completely for his next ordeal.

    They found out from him – after some threats of tickle torture and gang fucking – what his usual meals were and what his normal daily exercise routine was. The Facility wanted to replicate his diet, his personal hygiene habits and exercise regime to keep their captive Adonis in the same perfect shape he was in when they abducted him. They wanted to preserve his body, but also the other things about him – his scent, sweat and attitude, to make the coming ordeals and assaults on him as if he was freshly kidnapped – like some organic food product with no preservatives and picked fresh from the farm.

    But they told him nothing. He was forced to wear a cock chastity cage that prevented him from getting an erection – and under pain of severe punishment (tickling, whipping and being gang raped) he was instructed never to touch his balls or dick – not even to scratch it.

    Like all the other rest and exercise periods and strict diet of food for the other captives – who he never saw – , this long time of respite was done not out of mercy for the straight boy but a devious scheme to keep his body and mind in shape and fresh for more horrible, never ending torments.

    He was bewildered and confused. What was the point of his being kidnapped? After his shocking abduction, after being stripped, fondled, edged and enduring agonizing cock polishing and then prolong post orgasm torments that nearly drove him insane, he was brought to this cell and subjected to no further abuse, beyond being forced to wear the cock cage. But that initial attack on him couldn’t be the reason for his abduction. What other reason was he being held? He had no money, surely they knew that. Or maybe they didn’t. He knew they were on one level, pure sexual sadists or perverts. He thought for sure he would be gang raped – with the dozens of hulking men and guys that were there when he was being assaulted his first night – he assumed – seeing their hungry looks at his body – that he would be immediately gang raped. That night – and every day and night since then he expected that. But for nearly two weeks now, nothing happened.

    He never was told from day to day what was going to happen or not happen, so he began each of those days in fear – though Curt thought he successfully hid that from his tormentors – until the day ended. It still didn’t dawn on Curt that the rest periods he would have in the facility would always be deliberate intervals to prepare him for the next ordeal – not just random moments, to make his reactions fresh and strong as if he never experienced a similar ordeal. That first and so far only long horrible ordeal after he was abducted terrified Curt who never knew as each day began whether they would come to him for the next ordeal and torment.

    The edging – something he never really knew about before his abduction – and the post-orgasm torment which he never before had experienced – went way beyond anything Curt had ever encountered in his life. It went far beyond his ability to withstand any of it. He wouldn’t admit that to his tormentors. His hatred for them grew each moment and day they kept him imprisoned. As days passed his hatred increased as did his determination to escape, though he realized that would be difficult. But every moment he always looked around each room he was taken to, for doors, windows, and other avenues of possible escape.

    Still, for all his macho straight frat boy college athlete bravado that he still displayed Curt was scared, even terrified. This abduction was no ordinary kidnapping by amateurs. This was professional – and more disturbing, something that clearly had been going on for quite some time with the participation of hundreds, perhaps thousands of rich people. But he didn’t know what to make of it. His tormentors’ single minded prolonged assault on his body that first night for hours and hours made resistance impossible because they never let up, they never stopped. They proved time and again on that first day after he was abducted that they could easily make his body respond against his will and force him to cum despite his complete revulsion to what they were doing.

    Before his abduction he didn’t think that would be remotely possible. He was straight – he was repulsed by male to male sex. He would have thought as he believed when they first laid their hands and fingers on him, that faggots could not even get his dick hard – never mind forcing him to shoot out a load, then another and then another and another. Impossible.

    They seemed to know where and when that his breaking point was reached and then simply continued past it. That was the terrifying part that he found impossible to fight – their single minded intensity of tormenting him that was prolonged, without any discernible ending, with the tormenting that continued on and on. How could you fight that – how could he withstand something that never ended Curt thought, terrified at the memory, though another voice in his brain telling him to “man up”.

    Of course, the torment would eventually end – until the next ordeal that he would eventually face – but the prolonged tortures they would inflict next, he knew would likely last hours and hours – always long, always torturous, always far beyond his tolerance, that would, as it did that first day after his abduction, drive him to the edge and over of insanity. He hated his tormentors and still vowed to make them pay for every moment of misery they inflicted on his body. He hated that faggot creep of a neighbor that was the catalyst for his abduction. Yeah, he wasn’t directly responsible, but his stalking him with the cameras, forced him to leave sooner than he had planned. That early departure led to some unwise decisions that he made, he realized.

    But that fuckin creep – all because of him Curt thought bitterly.

    Curt vowed to himself that he would get out of this place and make each and every person who tormented him – including that faggot neighbor who stalked him with that camera – pay dearly for what they have done to him. Those bravado thoughts allowed him to sleep and to keep the other thoughts at bay of sheer panic and terror of whatever ordeals his tormentors planned from overwhelming him.

    Part 14 – Curt’s Next Ordeal

    Curt’s eyes slowly blinked as if gradually waking after being passed out, his mind confused and disoriented. He looked around and saw that he was in a large empty room and while not familiar with it at all, it didn’t seem strange to him. Where was he? The thought vanished like wisps of smoke replace by thoughts only about the present and where he was now.

    It was dark and he felt around him and saw he was lying – fully clothed – on a cold cement floor. Or did it feel cold? How long was he here? Where was he? For a split second he was confused but then suddenly felt he was in no danger at all.

    He looked around and saw a huge metal door – one that he hadn’t seen a moment before. Now it was there. It looked familiar – resembling a door he had seen before. In an instant he was next to it, pushing it and somehow it opened like some magical gate to freedom, as he expected it to. He was outside and could feel the brilliant sun on his face and body. Though he felt the warmth, he couldn’t see it, but that didn’t trouble him at all. Everything seemed like it should be. 

    He stood there eyes closed, savoring the comforting warmth on his body and face, free of any restraints. That seemed like some distant vague memory to him now. Every moment now consumed his attention and replaced any painful memory of the past. He saw a grassy field of green stretched out before him and he found himself running on it as fast as he could – running further away from the structure where he vaguely remembered horrible things happening.

    He saw a group of four or five huge hulking men coming after him from a distance. For a second he felt fear, but not panic. For some reason Curt knew he would out run them – he was in control and felt no fear.

    They disappeared and vanished in a haze as he turned around. Further along he saw a huge house that he felt would be safe for him. In an instant he was inside and saw something familiar. A big bed – it seemed like it was his and without hesitation he laid down face down, his body floating almost. He turned his head seeing a beautiful young woman – and then another – both of whom he vaguely recalled being with before. They were next to him, lying on the bed with him, touching him as he remembered, and causing him to smile. Two of them worshipping his body and responding to his desires and commands as women also did with him. He was in control.

    But one of them was poking at his side that caused him discomfort. He gestured strongly to one of the women to stop. The poking got stronger – and more irritating to him, as he tried to bat away whatever it was.

    “Fuckin stop I told you!” he yelled at the woman, as the poking continued.

    Now the other woman was slapping his face yelling at him. What was happening? He turned to them angry but they were gone. What the fuck? Another hard slap and a several pokes to his side.

    “WAKE THE FUCK UP PRETTY BOY OR GET HURT” the Big Samoan yelled at Curt, slapping his face now harder and harder as he laid restrained spread eagle on the bed.

    His body was a picture of pure youthful masculinity with muscled proportioned biceps, thighs, torso and mounded pecs.

    Three other grinning hulking goons stood next to the Big Samoan and also poked the sleeping handsome boy with their cattle prods that – for now – were not powered up. They delighted in poking at the boy’s sides and butt, one of them, sliding the tip of the prod up and down Curt’s slightly hairy ass crack and brushing the tip in his exposed hairy armpits. Seeing Curt’s naked body spread out before them, they would have loved to power up the prods and administer shock after shock right inside his slightly hairy rosebud tight virgin hole just to see his Alpha Male straight boy defiance dissolve into blood curdling screams.

    If necessary, they were authorized to do just that if needed, but were instructed to avoid damaging the boy. The Facility higher ups that controlled the facility, given the high interest and money Curt was generating among their hundreds of rich clients across the world, had already set in motion major plans for the eventual gang rape of Curt’s virgin asshole. But other torments needed to happen first to Curt, based on the money and requests by many of the facility’s very wealthy buyers and viewers.

    The slapping of his face and prodding with the cattle prods caused the boy to stir to full consciousness. With a start Curt woke, blinking his long lashed green eyes, a huge wave of dread overwhelmed him in a second, with the painful realization that he was dreaming – he wasn’t free – but now waking to his real life nightmare.

    This was real.

    “YOU DREAMING OF FUCKING SOME BITCH PRETTY BOY??? THOSE DAYS ARE OVER FOR YOU!” the Big Samoan taunted the bewildered boy.

    Crestfallen, he looked around, and down his body and remembered he was naked, with his long dick encased in a stainless steel cock cage to keep his straight boy cock under control by his tormentors – which grew semi hard from his dream.

    He trembled involuntarily, remembering with horrors that took place two weeks earlier on his first day at the Facility – the non-stop edging, cock polishing and post orgasm rubbing and stroking that was far worse than anything before that he experienced in his young life. The intensity of their attack, the skill they had at finding every sensitive spot on his body, especially his cock head, shaft and balls that caused such unbearable pleasure or unbearable sensation driving him to animal like hysterical shrieking. He was humiliated at what happened but even more fearful that it would happen again soon. Maybe today. Every day he feared that or something else would happen to him.

    How could he stand that – again?

    He stared at the Big Samoan and then noticed the sound and images from the 60 inch HD video screen on the wall near his bed that flickered on. The Big Samoan and the others smirked at Curt, keeping their eye on him but also watching the video screen with interest. Curt looked up and then heard his own voice and realized a video was playing – of him. It was Curt in his swimming shorts walking, lying and flirting with girls at his apartment complex – crystal clear video that focused on his face, torso, abs and crotch.

    He was puzzled and confused about the video – who took it? How did they get it? And then he remembered. Noah. That faggot creep who stalked him and took hidden video of him for the past year he lived at that apartment complex. Curt’s anger swelled inside of him remembering how he caught his neighbor videotaping him while he was passed out naked on his patio below. How the creep’s video camera fell on his stomach. All because of him Curt decided to move out quickly. And now this.

    The hidden videos were being streamed to paid benefactors and interested buyers that only increased their lust for Curt and desire to have further torments inflicted on him. Never before had they abducted a boy with such videos that flaunted Curt’s masculinity and prowess. Curt stared at the video playing with rage and disgust. That fuckin stalker faggot creep neighbor of his. All because of him. He cursed Noah again under his breath.

    The Big Samoan ordered Curt to dress – pointing to an outfit, a wrestling singlet, jock strap, white short socks and trainers, on the table near his bed. Each day since that first day – now over two weeks – he followed a strict regime of getting dressed though usually in some sweats. This was the first time he was to dress in a wrestling singlet.

    He never understood what they had in mind for him since his abduction. He always feared a repeat attack on his body like the first night – endless edging and post orgasm torment. He shuddered at that thought. And yet, for over two weeks nothing happened to him except for being forced in a strict regime of exercise to keep his body toned and muscled. It was like being in a high class detention center with faggot sadists as guards running it Curt thought. He had wondered if other people abducted were here too. He hadn’t seen anyone else yet, just his guards. But he thought he had heard them talk about others. And the place seemed too big with a routine too established to have been created simply for one person like Curt.

    The Big Samoan pushed the cold metal end of his cattle prod right in the area of Curt’s belly button as he gasped.

    “Get fuckin dressed boy,” the Big Samoan ordered.

    For a second, Curt thought of resisting, hating his captivity and the control that they had over him.

    But the huge Samoan just grinned and pressed the charger button on the cattle prod so Curt could hear terrifying whine and then the crackle and sizzle of the surging electrical current waiting to be released. He now put the now warmed up prod against Curt’s exposed muscled thigh. The touching of the metal against his skin made Curt’s thigh grow taut expecting stinging pain any second, and his face flinching ever so slightly not wanting to show his fear, though Curt was terrified.  The prod pressing against his inner muscled thigh was just inches away from his dangling limp dick and balls.

    “Give me a reason boy…ANY reason boy..I would love to do this…And I won’t stop there. I’ll fry your precious balls and cock too…Not just me – the others too” the Samoan said.

    Biting back cursing him out, Curt glared at his tormentor, looking down at the prod the Big Samoan still pressed against his thigh – and the prods held up close by the others, who were grinning with a glazed look of lust in their eyes that for a second terrified Curt. These guys were sick fucks Curt thought. Truly sick. But he was at their mercy. For now. He nodded, signaling his cooperation. He would dress in the outfit as ordered.

    The Big Samoan, pulled it away but unexpectedly pressed the now warmed metal end against Curt’s loose slightly hairy loose ball sack as the youth gasped under his breath “Oh Jesus…No”.

    The Big Samoan laughed derisively at Curt, rubbing the prod around his loose scrotum, and then up and down his limp long shaft and then pressed against his cockhead as the boy’s body trembled slightly – fearful and not knowing for sure if he would press the release button on the prod and burn the shit out of his dick as the boy stood completely still not wanting to incite his tormentor.

    “Look…Okay…I’m getting dressed, okay? Just…please…” Curt said quietly to the Big Samoan trying to sound reasonable and compliant without begging. But he was pushing down the terror he felt of having that prod unleash its powerful stinging electrical charge on his manhood. Curt did all he could to hold back cursing the Big Samoan, knowing any defiance now would guarantee his cock and balls getting fried. And he saw the others were ready with their fired up cattle prods, waiting to attack his exposed naked body.

    The Big Samoan stared then laughed loudly, taunting the straight handsome athlete and pulled the prod away.

    Curt, stared icily back at him and the others, trying to recover his Alpha Male bravado, but they knew better. No guy – no matter how brave – would want his manhood fried by one cattle prod after another. Curt knew he had no choice but also realized that putting on the singlet meant there was another day of some ordeal he would also have to face.

    Not liking being stared at while dressing – but knowing there was no choice, Curt slowly put the jock on, tucking his dick and balls into the snug pouch, and then pulled the singlet on.

    “I bet that is gonna smell real nice after you wear it a day or two, huh? Its gonna smell fuckin hot!!!,” one the large ugly looking men holding one of the charged up cattle prods said, staring lustfully at the near naked youth.

    Curt eyes widened in anger turning to the man who said that, but held back the obscenity on his lips. He wanted to tell the man to go fuck himself but also was in constant disbelief that anyone – especially another man – would say those things to another guy.

    His other guards including the Big Samoan leered at him, growing lustful at seeing this handsome straight boy putting on his jock and singlet. The viewing audience was also watching live stream, zeroing in on his tight ass, as Curt put on the jock strap, and seeing how the straps clung to his ass cheeks, and with the large waist band, lewdly framing his virgin muscled butt.

    The singlet was one size at least too small it seemed to Curt – and the fabric seemed to cling to his body more. It was hard for him to walk without the fabric moving up into his butt crack and cinching his junk and thighs. He never would have worn a singlet too tight or small. He looked down and saw how the fabric of this singlet, despite the jock, clung and formed over his duck egg sized balls, his long thick cock outlining even his large foreskin covered knob.

    As a high school and college wrestler he wasn’t shy about his body – or even having a bulge that showed his junk, but that was before his abduction. Back then in college, Curt was competing with other wrestlers who he didn’t think cared a rat’s ass about looking at his bulge, though he didn’t realize then that in fact there were several guys who loved looking at Curt and loved touching his body while wrestling him in matches.

    In high school and college he could care less about showing a bulge or even being naked among other guys.

    He never thought twice about guys looking at his junk other than the type of quick gaze guys gave to each other to simply size up a person. He never cared about looking at another dude’s junk – though he would do a once over of a guy’s body to see what he would be up against in match. But never in a sexual way. The idea that some guys would look at him in his singlet during those matches in a sexual way never crossed his mind.

    Yeah, he would notice up on the stands some regular older guys who seemed to always show up to tournaments, always seemed to be videotaping and didn’t seem to have any kids wrestling. But that was sort of the normal thing in the crowd that wrestlers sort of knew about as slightly creepy but almost always ignored. The important thing was winning the match.

    Curt certainly didn’t mind if some girls in the audience looked at him and sometimes he went out of his way to take off his shoulder straps of his sweaty singlet, and pulled his top down exposing his v shaped muscled torso and pecs, scratching his head that showed off his bulging biceps and hairy sweaty armpit. He always did it on the excuse of trying to cool off, but the girls (and many secretly adoring guys) in the stands knew better. They loved the “Curt Show”, seeing how his sweaty singlet clung tightly to his body like a second skin, showing off every curve and crevice of his body, as he walked back and forth on the gym floor ignoring the stands, but playing to it. He knew he had a nice body and loved to flaunt it.

    Now, after his abduction, his audience was just guys, many of them older men, who stared and looked at him like he was some cheap bitch to fuck. Here at the Facility, Curt felt he was on display like some prized bull – not for his athletic prowess, but to be used. To have grown older men – fuckin perverts – stare, touch and manhandle him – his junk and force him to shoot loads against his will. He knew during his first – and so far only – ordeal – that there was also a viewing audience of some unknown number that was watching him be manhandled, edged and molested live streamed like some perverted reality show.

    It unnerved him – also because of the horrible ordeal he had already gone through that happened two weeks earlier. Though nothing had happened to him – other than forced regime of exercise – since then, he was terrified of being edged and cock polished again – and even more terrified about post orgasm polishing and stroking of his cock. And the hysterical fear he felt about tickle torture that he prayed they would never think of doing to him. His body shook again with fear that he tried to hide and suppress. They hadn’t done tickled him and Curt prayed maybe they either forgot about it or didn’t think he was ticklish.

    And so far, they didn’t rape his ass, something he thought would be the first thing that would have happened when he arrived here. He assumed that is what all faggot perverts did. His body shook thinking of what it would be like to be gang raped by the Big Samoan and the other huge men guarding him. Judging by their huge size and what he assumed would be huge horse like cocks to match, Curt feared they would rip and tear his ass into a bloody mess. He shuddered at the thought, and of that act which would take his manhood.

    He wondered briefly what would be worse – that gang rape or another endless ordeal of having his dick played with, edged or whatever it was that they called it. His body trembled just recalling the horror of that tormenting – torture he thought was not possible to inflict on a guy. And then the constant terror of being tickled by these freaks if they ever found out that was his ultimate Achilles heel. He dismissed those thoughts as quickly as they invaded his mind constantly through the day, with the Alpha Male bravado to “man the fuck up Curt!!!!”

    He calmed down and stared back at his guards, trying to show not reaction to their taunting or fears of what would happen next. It was a battle of willpower he dealt with every morning, and every other moment since his abduction.

    Each morning, like this one, Curt woke up with no idea what would happen next after he dressed and had breakfast. Would it be a long day of exercise and then back to his room? Or would this be the day that another ordeal – like that first night – happens to him? Or the feared and threatened gang rape? Or something else? And if so, what? Curt tried to hide his growing panic now that he was moments away from being taken to the room.

    Please God please not that edging and shit again. Please God. Oh God…not tickling. Oh God…not that please, God, Curt thought. He shook his head and closed his long lashed eyes and then glared at his tormentors. He somehow retrieved again whatever ragged remains of his alpha male straight boy bravado that remained. He would face his next ordeal like a man. Fuck them he thought, but that thought would hold for seconds and maybe even minutes before disappearing in a haze replaced by fear and then panic, and then again re-asserting his Alpha Male persona. It was a process he repeated over and over as he struggled within himself to control what he could.

    This morning he tried to convince himself that he could face anything, though he was mystified by being forced to wear the jock strap, singlet, white low cut sweat socks and trainers, as he continued dressing.

    The singlet stretched and clung to each of his muscled butt cheeks highlighting the deep cleft of his rounded muscled ass. The singlet shoulder straps seemed strained from supporting the heavy package of his junk below and showed a lot of his tanned skin of his massive pecs with his nipples protruding, showing off his Adonis ripped body. He sat on the bench and put on the sock and Inflict type wrestling shoes. To his tormentors and audience viewing the live streamed video, the straight college athlete looked sexy and beautiful attired in the singlet. It helped that he was a high school and college wrestler that made his wearing the singlet and gear all the more convincing.

    “Why….why am I wearing this?” Curt asked in a polite but slightly put off tone to his tormentors, unable to hold back the apprehension he felt.

    No one answered him.

    Instead, the Big Samoan simply turned and pushed the cattle prod into Curt’s right muscled thigh, and let loose a medium stinging charge that knocked the boy off the bench flat on the floor, as he shrieked in shock and surprise.

    “AAAAAAHHHH!!!! WHATAFUCK???!!! SHIT!!!!!!” he screamed at the Big Samoan, grabbing his thigh in agony. It stung badly – though no permanent damage. But he could hear the low whine of the cattle prods held by the Big Samoan – juicing up to the higher setting that was sure to burn his skin.

    They laughed as the youth writhed on the floor balled up from the sharp burning like pain on his muscled thigh, always liking to see Curt’s rippling muscles on display when his body was tormented. They loved seeing how his flat 8 pack stomach always remained flat as a board, as his sexy belly button winked and opened from his struggles. No damage was done, though Curt thought for a second that the Big Samoan had burned him badly, but saw only a deep angry red circle shaped mark on his inner thigh that seemed to continue to radiate heat – and pain. He heaved and panted from the pain and stared back up at the Big Samoan, his eyes showing rage – and fear, but biting back any further words of defiance and anger he wanted to hurl at his tormentors.

    “Shut the fuck up Curt. No questions.” The Big Samoan said, “or you get hurt from all five cattle prods.”

    Tears in his eyes, Curt stared angrily at them for a second, his body still shaking from the stinging charge, but realized defiance or asking more questions now would only invite more attacks. Though no apparent permanent physical damage was done, the pain was intense to Curt. He looked, with the stinging pain in his inner muscled thigh still throbbing, at the other four hulking guards who seemed almost anxious to use their cattle prods on him. They stared at him glassy eyed, one of them licking his lips.

    This is fucked up Curt thought. But he slowly got up, rubbing his inside thigh where the cattle prod stung him. He was sore, but he could walk.

    His guards hungrily watched closely as Curt got up, the boy’s tight singlet show off every muscle and bulge as he turned and stood for a second and then walked ahead. Seeing his reaction and how ripped his body was, increased their lust and desire to unleash their cattle prods all over Curt’s body, especially his proud straight boy dick and balls and a charged prod fired right on his tight rosebud virgin asshole. They wanted to hear the youth scream as his muscled body writhed. Unlike the Big Samoan, they wouldn’t necessarily have their own individual time to do what they wanted with Curt, given their own lower status at the Facility. So they would compensate their unquenched lust for Curt by increasing the torments on the boys they could have – like a recent new addition named Jake.

    Without a word, Curt slowly walked ahead of the Big Samoan who pointed to a door for Curt to go through. To his surprise, he wasn’t going to be taken to the next room where he thought his next terrible ordeal would happen. Instead, he was led through a door that was another entrance to the training and workout room. He had been in this room every day since that first terrible ordeal, but this entrance was different. He made an effort to remember that – and wondered why he didn’t notice that door before when he was in the room before. Curt always tried to remember every door and every hallway where he was taken – for an eventual escape plan. But what he didn’t know was false walls or panels would be moved, hiding an entrance or exit or creating a new one that he saw once or twice before, giving a totally new appearance to the room’s exits and entrances.

    The Samoan told Curt he would need to exercise for the next two hours – any resistance, or failure to not complete any set of exercise – including weight work – would result in instant punishment without warning. AND two hours of solid unrelenting tickle torture. They wanted him to build up his adrenaline and force his body and singlet to retain a nice sweaty sheen. Several of the benefactors watching live streamed bid for his singlet and jock strap afterwards. And they wanted the boy’s musky sweaty scent on it – sweat from his exercise as if he was back in college.

    Curt stared back wide eyed – fearful of that constant threat, but also trying to fight back surges of rage. He hated, hated, hated what they did to him – guys touching his junk, making him cum, teasing the shit out of him, tying his body up and doing whatever they wanted. He was bewildered and embarrassed that somehow these freaks – other guys – so easily could over power him, abduct him, fondle him at will and worse, make his pussy loving body respond his fuck meat grow steel hard and shoot loads after loads. How could that happen? And yet he also knew how incredible some of the fondling, touching and sucking felt, though he tried to shut out those thoughts.

    He vowed in his mind to escape and make them pay, but his body trembled involuntarily when he remembered how terrible the edging and cock polishing the worst of all – post orgasm torture was. And the brief tickling.

    Curt enjoyed being in this fully equipped exercise room that at least was a distraction to his captivity. The skylight brought plenty of hot sun into the room. Curt looked up and squinted. Just sky and clouds. He never say anything other than the sky through that portal that separated him from his past life. No way to tell where he was – and too high as a possible escape route out. Though he had been in this room every day since that first day to exercise, he never ceased looking up to that skylight and wondering.

    Today Curt was given a set of different exercises – including weight work, pull-ups, pushups, and running on treadmill. He was mystified about the purpose – why? But he kept silent seeing the cattle prod. Maybe this was it for today…and the exercising felt good to him. Fuck ’em. He would focus on that and not their perverted ideas – and staring.

    His entire two hour regime was viewed by the large audience of potential buyers and others in the facility live video stream. His singlet and body after two hours of non-stop exercising was damp wet from heavy sweating, which his adoring audience would bid furiously to own when it came on sale – as it would shortly.

    Now he was led, arms held behind his back by the hands of two of his guards and pushed into through another door, into a large room with a group of 30 people – all hooded staring at his sweaty muscled body with the enormous bulge pushing out lewdly from his singlet.

    The big Samoan now only held Curt, gripping his rounded muscled biceps tightly, loving the feel of hardness of his magnificent physique, with other hooded guys on either side of him. Escape seemed impossible. The metal door behind them clanged shut. His heart raced now realizing he was not going to be taken back to his own room, but that he would now face some unknown ordeal. Today was the day. But what? He suppressed yet another tremor of pure fear. Instead he glared at his tormentors, his lips closed tight in anger. Despite his Alpha Male bravado, it was all he could do to not dissolve into pure hysterical panic, the hooded men around him unnerving him – as it was meant to do.

    Jesse, hooded, came up to him and grabbed his jaw with his hand forcing the straight stud to face him.

    “You smell nice after your workout there Curt. Look fuckin hot, though not sure if your momma would approve of that bulge sticking out. I guess being tied up by guys really excites you, huh?”

    “Fuck you, you fuckin pervert” Curt muttered, trying to break the grasp that Jesse had on his jaw.

    The Big Samoan tightened his hold on the boy.

    “Well, actually my friend, you are the one that is – and has been – truly fucked since we met you. ” Jesse said, laughing, and then suddenly slapping the boy’s face hard on his cheek. “Well, not yet fucked in your tight ass…we have other things in mind first for your precious Alpha bod!!”

    Curt’s head turned from the impact, with Jesse hand print showing on his cheek. While the slap stung, Curt refused to scream, and simply turned his head back to face his tormentor, glaring at him. The slap enraged the straight boy. He wondered about not being fucked – he assumed after he was abducted that would be the first thing that happened to him. Yeah, they played and tongued his ass cheeks and dirty crack and even his butt hole. He was repulsed and disgusted by that – and incredulous that anyone would put their tongue there, male or female. Especially a dude. But no one tried to fuck him – much to his relief. He had no idea why and the uncertainty of whatever he would face next – including a horrible gang rape of his virgin straight ass – caused waves of terror in Curt – something he desperately tried to control as much as he could.

    “You’re not in charge here Curt. This isn’t your college. You’re not in control. We ain’t your bitches. We loved edging the shit out of you on your first day here – you remember that I am sure. But right now we’ll move on now in a different direction, one that I am sure you will enjoy based on your reactions in the van…you remember?” Jesse said.

    Regaining some of his defiance, Curt glared back at his tormentors and couldn’t think what Jesse was referring to. He couldn’t understand why they dressed him in this uniform. What were they talking about? Something he would enjoy? Something that happened in the van ride?

    In a panic, he suddenly remembered: tickling. When they tickled briefly his armpits in the van – and then again when they stripped him at the Facility that first day.

    ‘Oh my god god no’ Curt thought in horror, his eyes widened unable to hide the sheer horror. He knew they would show him no mercy. It would be unbearable. Though he tried not to show the panic he felt, the sheer terror of being tied up and tickle tortured by these sadistic perverts overwhelmed any stoicism he had.

    Now two weeks into his abduction, he knew how cruel and sadistic these guys were and that any tickling wouldn’t be short or stop when it went too far. There would be no stopping for mercy and any tickling would go on and on. That alone terrified him beyond anything else – because while he might psyche himself to somehow survive through a minute or two of tickle torture – how could he endure hours and hours? Nothing, he knew now, would be too much or too far to inflict on his body by these sadists. My god, my god, Jesus – how do I survive that? Oh shit oh shit oh my god Curt thought as his mind descended into panic mode. The pupils of his green eyes grew large showing fear and panic, his mouth gaping in horror, to the delight of his tormentors. That priceless reaction of a straight boy doomed to endless tickle torture was exactly what they hoped for.

    “Ah, yes…tickling. You DID remember! I am so touched! Well, it is one of our favorite activities with our guests. And because of the demand – and how much you enjoy it, we set aside four full days. Four fuckin full days to tickle the shit out of you. Yeah. And its time now…” Jesse said, patting Curt’s cheek like a baby.

    He nodded at the Big Samoan and the other huge men who guarded Curt, and led the terrified youth through a large metal door – into a large room with wrestling mats covering the floor – and the walls covered by green colored mats. On a huge video screen on the wall was a video of a handsome tormented boy – about Curt’s age, build – and shrieking, writhing from fingers tickling his sides, pits and feet by a gang of hooded men. For a long the video showed his handsome face full screen – clearly in agony and torment from the tickle torture his eyes showing sheer panic – as he shrieked and screamed as his body buckled. They forced him to watch it, and then shoved him further into the large room.

    “Oh God…” Curt whispered under his breath, trying to hide his growing despair and terror.

    The large room resembled a wrestling practice room. He was still not restrained by rope, chains or cuffs but held by two of his four guards, with the Big Samoan now standing right behind.

    In surge of adrenaline he broke free and dashed into the room, headed for a door that he hoped would be an exit to escape. There was of course no escape for Curt, though he didn’t know that and at the moment was too panicked about the tickle torture to care. His mind – a mixture of rage and panic – was driven to somehow get away or fight even if the attempt was hopeless.

    He dashed across the room and headed for the closed door, reaching it, surprised that his captors were not yet on him. He tried the door but it wouldn’t budge. He turned, trying to control his panic and stared at six hulking men each easily over 220 pounds of muscle slowly walking toward him, unarmed, hooded and menacing. The Big Samoan stood behind them staring at Curt ordering him to give up.

    “FUCK YOU!!!! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!!!” Curt yelled back at the Big Samoan.

    With any escape cut off, Curt decided to fight back no matter what. Curt’s Alpha Male mind was in control of his body for moment. No way would he let them take him without a fight to be tickle tortured. Curt’s mind was in a frenzy with the single thought of at least fighting off or delaying that ordeal which truly terrified him. In his wrestling singlet he crouched as if in a match, though he knew this was a match without rules. He would kick, hit, sock and grab – do anything to stop them from taking him. If necessary he would even try to kill them to stop them. He knew it would be a desperate and losing fight – but he had no choice.

    “YOU’RE ALL FUCKIN FAGGOTS!!!!” YOU AIN’T DOING THIS SHIT TO ME!!! FUCK YOU!!!!!!! I’LL FUCKIN KILL YOU FIRST!!!!” Curt yelled at them in a burst of rage and fury.

    The six huge men smiled grimly at the boy, as they approached him also in fighter stance. Each of the huge men were sinister unmerciful tickle torture masters – though Curt didn’t know that.

    “GET AWAY!!!! I’LL FUCKIN KILL YOU!!! GET THE FUCK AWAY!!!” Curt using an even louder defiant voice.

    “Okay Curt. You need to obey and face this like a man. Strip. NOW!!!!” the Big Samoan ordered, scowling at their handsome rebellious prisoner.

    “FUCK YOU!!!! I AINT DOING SHIT!!! YOU AINT FUCKIN DOING THIS TO ME!!! I’ll FUCK YOU OVER IF YOU FUCKIN TOUCH ME AGAIN!!! GET THE FUCK AWAY!!!” Curt yelled, his rage overcoming for now, the sheer panic and hysteria that seemed ready to consume his body and mind. In his mind he had to delay – even if unsuccessful – the horror that was to come.

    They knew it was possible he could inflict some level of damage to one or more of them, even though they outweighed him, given his lean muscled physique and experience as a wrestler. Nothing major of course, and they looked forward to that in some respects, because it would give them even greater reason to inflict revenge on the boy when they had him spread eagle and tied down. And they had additional men with cattle prods and other devices to bring him down if things got too out of hand.

    They approached the defiant sweaty muscled youth, grinning.

    Curt kicked the first man in the stomach hard, causing him to fall back to the floor yelping in pain. He kicked another in the face, causing immense pain but no real damage as that man fell back, yelling in pain. He kicked another in the upper leg that caused the huge man to fall. But those tiny moments of victory were short lived for Curt – measured in mere seconds, as the sweat covered his singlet covered muscled body and he faced the others in a crouched kickboxer-wrestling stance.

    The viewing audience was ecstatic about the live performance – though Curt had no idea he was performing.

    Now the four others, plus the other three downed guards, approached from different sides. Curt, his eyes and face showing the kind of determination and concentration like the college wrestling matches he always won, crouched lower, reading to strike. Given the numbers against him, he knew, despite his prowess as a fighter, that it was now just a matter of time before they had him. But each minute delayed the horror. Suddenly they were upon him, as he tried to kick and hit back – succeeding in hitting one of his tormentors in the face hard, and another in the groin, hearing their yelps and groans. Within a minute they had Curt subdued, spread-eagled on the mat, each of the seven men holding one his arms and legs and other parts of his sweaty body.

    Hands grabbed the top of his sweat soaked singlet, as he struggled, pulling it up and over his head, and then quickly shoved the uniform slowly down his torso, as he yelled. They continued to bring the singlet down, exposing his snowy white sweaty jock which they left on for now, pushing the singlet down past his muscled thighs, calves and past his white athletic socks then off completely.

    The soiled singlet was the prize of one of the many rich men watching live video streaming – after bidding war that was only topped by bidding of the sweat soaked jock strap that Curt was still wearing. Eventually the boy would be stripped of his sweat soaked musky smelling jock once he was secured and tied to the tickle torture bench. Each of the men and Curt were panting heavily from the exertion of the fight. His jock strap was even damper with hot sweat, lewdly showing off his large mounded bulge, as he struggled to break free.

    “NO FUCKIN WAY NOOOOO!!! LET ME GOOO!!!! FUUUUCK YOU!!! NOOOOOO LET ME GO FUCK!!!!!!” he yelled defiantly a torrent of obscenities, his body still struggling like an unbroken colt, “NOOOO SHIT GET AWAY MAN..YOU AINT DOIN THIS SHIT TO ME!!! FUCK YOU!!!”

    What the youth didn’t know was his escape, his fighting back and his being subdued was all planned for the huge live streamed audience. They loved seeing the boy try to escape, try to fight back using the skills he had as a wrestler and athlete. It was all arranged for his audience to see him perform – though he didn’t know that. The six hulking men and the Big Samoan picked up like a baby the struggling cursing nearly naked muscled Curt up from the mat, holding him tightly as they brought him out of the room, through the door he thought was an escape route – into a large room that looked like an exercise room. It was the tickle torture chamber – the same chamber where that tormented young man tied to the same bench he was being taken to was tickled tortured in that video on the screen.

    “FUCK NOOOOOO SHIT…LEMME FUCKIN GO!!!!” he said enraged but knowing fate was sealed. He had to fight – every second delayed the horrible thing he feared most.

    His mind even thought of ways to kill himself now as the frenzied hooded guys manhandled his struggling thrashing body. The hooded guys forced Curt, struggling and fighting every step of the way, across the room, as they shuffled and pulled him to a device that looked like a modified weight bench – only the bars and padding was much thicker, and the bench – really a device – was bolted to the ground. The bench was tiled upward, so that a person’s body would be almost in a sitting position, but tightly restrained with most of the arms held down tightly by heavy leather sleeves bolted to the bars of the bench.

    “NO NO NO NO FUCK NO!!!!!!” Curt yelled and nearly went berserk trying to resist, his mind and body going into sheer terror about the tickle torturing.

    He knew he was doomed but had to fight to stave off that horror.

    “SHIT FUCK NOOOOOOO FUCK NO!!!!” Curt yelled struggling violently like a wild untamed colt.

    Similar heavy leather sleeves would tightly restrain a victim’s lower thighs knees and upper leg, while their feet would be put into a pillory like device. A thick wide leather belt, also bolted to the bench frame, would be fastened tightly just below the boy’s pecs. The result would be a helpless victim, arms restrained tightly by leather sleeve, wrists cuffed and chained tight – pointed up as if in a jumping jack position, with head and torso leaning against slightly inclined bench, with stomach and legs spread-eagled tight.

    They sadistically showed him the fully padded steel bench where he would be tied tightly down at the mercy of unending tickle torture. One of the hooded men made Curt look – as he pointed out where his hands and legs would be restrained in the leather cuffed restraints bolted to the metal framed bench.

    “Oooh Jesus oh my God….oh my god noooo…oh shit..” Curt whispered to himself in near panic that he tried to control. The mikes in the room could pick up even the softest sound – and captured every word of Curt’s growing horror seeing how restrained and helpless his body would be – exposed to every finger everywhere.

    His eyes wide with terror that he tried to hide, Curt was shown the pillory that would even lock his feet and each of his toes firmly in place and totally exposed to every type of tickle torture instrument. He was horrified. Threatening immediate tickle torture, they forced Curt eyes back toward the huge TV monitor that played a video of another handsome muscled boy – about Curt’s age, straight tied to the very same bench. They told Curt he was straight hitchhiker they picked up five weeks earlier – and they played the video. Curt could see four hands tickling the boy’s sides, armpits as he screamed then shrieked. On the very same bench he was now tied securely to.

    “AAAAH HAHAHAHHA GOD GOD GOD..STOP STOP!!!” the tormented youth in the video screamed as fingers attacked his writhing body.

    They fast forwarded the video which showed that four hours of tickle torture had past for the nearly crazed youth, with only breaks to allow the boy to recover. That recovery time was only given, Curt was told, to allow the tickle torture to resume all over again and again.

    Curt could see the video of the boy – someone like him, sweat soaked, was having his feet tickled unmercifully – as the handsome young man in the video shrieked “OOOH GOD FUCK STOP AHHAHHAHAHAH STOPAHAHAHAH KILL FUCK KILLME FUCK”

    A different shrieking handsome youth. But the very same bench. The same room. Only now – a different boy. Curt. Now it would be him.

    He struggled now even more, in a futile attempt to ward off the inevitable, with an awful sinking feeling of doom in the pit of his stomach.

    Knowing full well what was going to happen once he was strapped to that bench, Curt’s resistance exploded in a burst of violent struggling and had to be dragged and then carried to the bench while he yelled “FUCK FUCK NO NO NO DON’T DO THIS SHIT FUCK FUCK NOOOOOOO!!!!”

    It took six of them plus the Big Samoan to force him onto the bench, cuff his arms and wrists to the leather sleeves bolted to the bench, tying rope to each through the hooks on each of the wrist cuffs that were attached to the rings on each of the high posts at the end of the bench that was raised up.

    His body violently twisted and buckled this way and that in desperation knowing that once he was tied the tickle torment would begin. Curt knew it wouldn’t just be a few seconds – it would be like the edging and cock polishing and everything else. Long. Very long. As long as they wanted and what they wanted was for him to suffer a very long time. No Alpha male defense would last more than a second or two under a concentrated, prolonged tickle attack. Yes, he would regain that straight boy Alpha Male defense through sheer bravado but after he realized the tickle torture would never end it would dissolve into panic and hysterical laughter and begging.

    He had learned one lesson from their endless unbearable cock edging and torments done to him earlier. He knew they would never stop. He knew it. And they knew it only added to the growing terror Curt now felt and was unable to fight off. And they also knew once they started on him, they would show Curt a whole new level of torment he had never experienced before – but would be forced to endure.

    “NO FUCKIN WAY!!!! NOOOO!!!!! OH SHIT…OH SHIT…NOOOOOOO!!!” he cried out in anger and in pure panic desperation.

    They pulled tight on both, raising Curt’s arms up again in a raised position – and tied the rope tight, though giving his arms some lee-way of movement. The terror would be increased for Curt – and the eroticism rose dramatically for his tormentors and audience by tearing or removing his clothes and shoes to get at the parts of his body to tickle. A huge video screen showing more of that hitchhiker’s tickle torture was hanging right in front of him – near where his feet would be trapped.

    Curt, struggling violently knowing what would happen was now just seconds away, yelled and under his breath – not for his tormentors to hear (but their mikes picked up even the slightest voice) Curt facing sheer terror whimpered “oh god I’ll die..oooh shit” in almost a little boy cry. His handsome face for a brief second showed the sheer terror he felt and was trying to suppress. He tried to cover it up by more yelling. But he was terrified. Even tied down, fully restrained and helpless, Curt still struggled desperately in a hopeless attempt to break free.

    For Curt, fighting back was the only way that would stop him from dissolving into a sheer panic attack. He was a star college athlete, a guy who other guys wanted to be and who could have any girl he wanted and nailed one or more every other day. Until now. He couldn’t let these freaks bring him down like this – crying and begging. He had to face it like a man a part of his brain kept repeating. Man up. Racing through his mind to crumple totally any thought his defenses to withstand the assault would work was knowing that he had no defense at all when it came to tickle torture, other than the weight of his Alpha Male college athlete frat boy personality that before could dominate any group. A simple command voice of “NO!” would stop anyone before.

    But not now – not ever again for Curt could he command others with his Alpha Male persona or a command of “no!!!”.

    Ignoring him completely, four other guys opened the pillory for Curt’s struggling feet and his wildly squirming curled toes that would hold them in place for his tormentors to do whatever they wished. Though still struggling violently like a wild animal, once secured in that pillory, there was no way Curt – or any victim – could prevent any part of his feet or toes from being attacked and abused. He tried to kick at them, but they easily placed his feet through the two cushioned openings, and then closed it, locking it tight.

    There was absolutely no escape for Curt.

    Fully restrained now and his body completely open to tickle torture, the reaction on Curt’s face was priceless to his tormentors who saw his beautiful long lashed green eyes wide with undisguised panic and horror. They let him soak in the reality of his helpless situation for a long while, though they gave him the impression that he was within moments of being assaulted with unbearable tickling. They loved seeing his handsome face unable to hide the sheer terror he felt now that he was locked down completely helpless with every part of his chiseled muscled naked body exposed .He let out a boyish whimper “oh god no oh god” as he struggled again and again wildly working up more sweat that gave off a sheen to his ripped body that his tormentors thought accented his beauty and sexiness even more.

    “Hey Curt, your sexy bod is fuckin laid out and ready for us,” one of his tormentors said, close to his ear, inhaling the scent as he nibbled it, causing the boy you gasp and yell out a string of more obscenities. “And we can do anything we want…but today…all day and night in fact, you will be fuckin tickle torture everywhere. Everywhere.”

    That sparked another round of Curt struggling violently to break free as his tormentors laughed and gathered around him. A finger here and there just brushing the hairs of his pits that caused a tremor and then a burst of near wild animal-like struggling by Curt to break free. He almost hyper-ventilated thinking that the tickle torture was starting. It wasn’t – not yet. But the sensations caused his body to shiver and react to the touching the bordered on tickling. A couple of seemingly stray fingers brushing his soles of his sock covered feet, moving slowly up and down like a live wire of electricity.

    “Please…no….no….you need to stop pooh shit please,” he pleaded with them in a strangled voice, panting heavily as he fought off reacting to the sensations of the fingers touching him.

    At that moment to his tormentors, Curt, though he tried to hide it, looked like a little boy lost and frightened ready to cry for his mommy, rather the 22 year old handsome straight cocky Alpha male who was always in control. They would make him – especially this boy – suffer terribly for being so arrogant and cocky whether or not he was “guilty” of those “crimes”. It served their purposes – and that of their paying viewing wealthy audience – to assign those things on their abducted boys. More often than not it scored true with their furious straight boy captives playing the role to the hilt even if they didn’t realize it was a performance.

    Curt knew none of that other than the awful reality that the horror of tickle torture would soon be done to his helpless splayed out body with feet, toes, torso, his junk and lower and upper legs completely exposed.

    Fingers lightly ran up and down the soles of his sock covered feet as Curt’s entire body trembled from the near ticklish sensation. The boy gasped and his body shook in anticipation of all out tickling of his feet – one of his most ticklish spots.

    He held back a loud sob of anguish as the fingers continued running up and down causing Curt to gasp out “Oh GOD NOOOO!!!!”

    After 20 agonizing minutes, they very slowly pulled off his socks – sweat soak and smelly – off slowly, as he gasped and threatened them, ordered them and then begged them not to proceed further.

    They didn’t bother to unhook his ankle cuffs – there was enough “give” but they did decide to tie each of his toes to the pillory, to provide easy access between his toes and restrain his feet further – feet that they hoped would be one of his most ticklish spots.

    Curt had never been tied up or restrained until his abduction which heightened enormously his anxiety level that was wracked by waves of intense fear and terror. And while there were a few brief instances of being tickled by friends that lasted maybe a few seconds – and he could and did break free immediately that put a stop to it. So it was never prolonged and never something he couldn’t control.

    Until now.

    “NOOOO NOOOOOO don’t….no…..I can’t stand…tickling…please…fuck this noooo…” he yelled “don’t fuckin do this!!!!! No!!!!!”

    He knew he was helpless and exposed in a way he had never been before.

    “Can’t..can’t do this…” Curt yelled in what he hoped was a strong command voice that would somehow make his tormentors obey him.

    One of them just stared back and smiled, raising both his hands in a claw like way and moved his fingers as if to tickle his pits as Curt panicked and buckled up and down like a wild animal. He laughed as the other laughed watching the enraged then anguished expression of their helpless victim. Curt tried to not react and cover his sheer growing panic with pure rage, which he also did feel.

    But Curt knew how terrible this would be for him once it began – because once it began there would be no end to it. That much he now knew after being subjected to their abuse. They operated on no safe words, no mercy – and if they allowed any rest period or stopped tickling a particular area of a guy’s body, it was only because the reactions weren’t as intense. Allowing some rest or moving to a different part of their victim’s body allowed for the area to be attacked again with the full intensity as before. Whether edging, cock polishing or post orgasm stroking. Now tickle torture. His body shook and trembled involuntarily though he hid it from his tormentors. He glared at them enraged and wanting to kill them all.

    While there were 30 of them – they also knew there was the sheer terror of a gang tickle torture – and the terror of one person at a time torturing their victim. They knew too many tickling hands and fingers for too long would send their victims to overload and sometimes zone out. They would do the gang tickling – backing off before that happened. They wanted their victims – especially Curt – to feel every finger, hand, tongue, feather, comb bristle and other implements they would use to make him laugh hysterically – without mercy and without any safe words to stop.

    They knew his hairy armpits and smooth muscle plated torso were ticklish – from their experience with him in the van. But they would start first on his feet – the spot where most people were most ticklish. If he was – and they hoped he was – they would concentrate their time there and wipe any conceit or cockiness that remained in the boy. They were all experienced ticklers – but feet were something special. They would show him no mercy.

    Jesse especially wanted to dig his fingers into Curt – especially his hairy sweaty armpits. He wanted to suck and tickle the shit out of his feet and toes. He was dizzy almost from the anticipation of making this Adonis shriek and scream.

    “So Curt, you injured our friend here when you resisted…” Jesse whispered into his ear, tonguing it.

    “FUCK!!! I’M FUCKIN SORRY FOR DOING THAT..OKAY???!!!! FUCK – DON’T DO THIS…DON’T DO THIS!!!!,” Curt yelled showing desperation and fear, though he tried to hide both.

    “Well saying sorry now doesn’t help much, does Curt, seeing that we had to strip you naked and get you in position without your help. So to compensate for your bad manners, we have allocated one full day just for Santini. That’s his name by the way…to spend with you any way he pleases. He gets you tomorrow! Unfortunately for you Curt. What pleases him is to tickle the shit out of you. He’s pretty bad with boys like you. Almost made one guy commit suicide and that was only three short hours into his daylong session with Santini. I hope you will be stronger for him” Jesse said.

    Curt’s tear filled eyes widened in sheer panic hearing Jesse, though he desperately tried to not listen to Jesse and shake out the fear overwhelming him now.

    “This is fucked up man…fuckin sick..please…don’t do this….” Curt said quietly, in an urgent pleading, yet manly voice.

    “But now for the business at hand Curt, we know from before that you are ticklish under your armpits and stomach. And believe me; we will get to those areas for a nice long session that I am sure you are looking forward to. And of course your legendary cock and balls – we definitely won’t forget your junk! You’ll go nuts…pardon my expression, when we tickle the shit out of your dick and balls, your tight asshole. Yeah, all sensitive spots. I’d hate to be you right now Curt.. But we were wondering…how about your feet? Hmmmm? Ticklish there?” Jesse said

    “Oh God don’t do this….don’t…..” Curt pleaded – his body taunt.

    “Oh you have no choice. Its gonna happen. We want to really tickle the shit out of you, so we’ve allocated – just for you – the entire four days, after of course Santini’s day with you. You might be totally fucked up because of that but we’ll see. After that, maybe a week or two if you still like this shit – yeah, keep laughing and we’ll keep on tickling the shit out of you – we wanna make you happy. Yeah…the entire fuckin two weeks just to tickle the shit out of you. Tied up…and there’s nothing you can say or do to stop us…” Jesse said, moving his fingers in a feathery touch toward Curt’s sweaty damp armpits.

    “Oh Jesus….noooooo” Curt whispered almost to himself, summoning all of his Alpha Male bravado to stem the huge wave of hysteria and terror of the impending tickle torture. A week. And a full day just with the guy he injured. They certainly would show him no mercy – they never did and now he faced imminent endless tickle torture

    “Oh..I forgot to mention, stupid of me. But you should know how popular you are with our viewing paying audience of faggots and perverts who really want to fuckin torment your body. Anyway, you’ve been rented out to a consortium of ultimate sick tickle sadists…for a month…Lucky for you they want to tickle the shit out of you to the very edge every day for a month! Couple of those masters just like sucking toes and tickling feet. All fuckin day. Yeah. And the group includes a group of bitchy women who are masters in tickle torture of males. Big and I might say ugly as sin, but they love tickling a handsome guy like you almost to death because it reminds them of getting revenge on all those high school and college jocks and frat boys who ignored them, or dumped them or took advantage of them. I’m sure you are guilty as charged. Yeah, these women are unmerciful and they wanted a whole day to teach you a long lesson. I almost feel sorry for you dude! Then we get you back for more mundane adventures like getting royally gang fucked!!!,” Jesse said, biting Curt’s ear lobe, “unless of course you don’t show any reaction to being tickled….well in that case they wouldn’t want you – maybe Santini wouldn’t either…so my advice is…don’t fuckin laugh!”

    “THIS IS FUCKED UP!!!! YOU SICK FUCK!!!!” Curt yelled partly in pure rage of what was happening to him – and would happen – but in terror. A month of tickle torture by a group of sadists who loved just to do that to him???? Oh god!!!

    “That consortium is flying in fuckin tickle torture sadists, experts really, from all over the world Curt…just for you. Everyone wants to tickle the shit out of you my friend…”

    “Oh god….” Curt said in a whisper. He was truly fucked he thought. “Oh god….”

    Curt’s eyes widened in sheer horror as he saw two of the guys go to the end of the bench on the other side of the pillory that held his feet and toes.

    “NO!!!!! NO!!!!! OH JESUS…SHIT…GET THE FUCK AWAY!!!” he yelled in a mix of rising panic and rage, his body thrashing in an almost frenzied attempt to break away, banging his head over and over against the heavy wood headboard. To his tormentors it looked as if the poor Alpha Male straight boy was trying a desperate attempt to escape his horror by knocking himself out.

    “Oooh Curt. You’re bumping your pretty head there! Can’t have you get hurt while you’re just having a nice laugh with us, huh?” Jesse said, patting his cheek as if he was a little boy.

    For a second Curt’s steel resolve crumbled – as it would many times during his roller coaster ride of defiance, panic and terror. But now, knowing that the unending tickle torture would begin any second, Curt’s beautiful long lashed eyes were saucer big showing his hysteria and panic.

    His reedy masculine frat boy voice now quivering with almost little boy begging “Look…please..man….don’t do this…I’m can’t stand it man…I’ll do anything…please…please…”

    Two of the guys quickly tightened the restraints of Curt’s body, making it impossible for him now to hit his head against the headboard. But he had enough movement of freedom to thrash around, one of them patting him on the head, touching his hair in a mock comforting gesture. They had looked forward to this moment of putting this arrogant cocky straight boy in his place.

    “Bro…dude..please…don’t fuckin do this…” Curt murmured knowing it was futile but desperate.

    One of others smiled evilly at the boy, patting his cheek, and then bent over and lightly sucked and nibbled on his left nipple as Curt gasped, inhaling the pungent boyish sweat of his muscled pecs and exposed hairy armpits. Now even more restrained and totally helpless, Curt somehow scrapped together some resistance again in a final burst of Alpha Male straight boy bravado. He hated his tormentors even more. He glared angrily back them with pure hatred and tight lipped defiance.

    “DO IT FUCKERS!!!” he suddenly yelled at them in a burst of straight frat jock boy bravado as he stared at the waiting gang of tickle torture freaks. “FUCK ALL OF YOU!!!” Curt spat with as much defiance as he could muster, with his Alpha Male bravado temporarily seizing the moment. But that masculine bravado crumbled fast as they gathered closely around him taunting the defiant straight body.

    They laughed and grinned at his outburst. They loved it. They knew – like all the others before him – that such surging bravado and defiance would crumble instantly when fingers danced on the boy’s helpless feet, neck, torso, sides, stomach and everywhere else.

    Curt’s ripped body once again betrayed him – as it would during the tickle torture – with heavy sweat dampening his armpits, crotch and ass crack that showed the intense anxiety he felt and tried to hide.

    Even then, despite the overwhelming terror he felt, a small part of Curt’s brain tried to convince himself that he could somehow will himself not react – not to feel anything – to simply zone all of this out – as an ultimate defiance to these perverts. But the other side of his brain knew that desperate act would fail. He had absolutely no defense, and he knew it, and worst of all, he knew they knew it.

    But though a stray finger here and there would touch his trembling body, the actual tickling hadn’t started. Curt was on edge, fearing any moment it would start and never end, especially as a finger would touch his side or stomach for a second or two.

    But then nothing.

    They waited. Minutes went by. More minutes, and then more.

    They knew the anticipation – the waiting – would do much to weaken his resolve and defiance and heighten the anxiety that would contribute to his explosive outburst when the torture began. They couldn’t wait to see that transformation to what would surely end up as pathetic futile begging.

    As Curt panted, his body taut, his bravado crumbled – as they knew it would – from the horrible anticipation as his tormentors stared just inches away.

    Still more minutes passed. Then more.

    The waiting, for Curt, added enormously to the tension he felt and set off explosions of sheer panic that the boy found increasingly hard to fight off. His Alpha Male Frat Jock boy resolve would rise and then dissolve even more quickly and harder to maintain his fragile defiance now with his tormentors surrounding him, staring at his naked body, mocking him, taunting him.  

    He couldn’t let this faggots do this to him Curt thought, closing his eyes for a second to regain control of himself, as his body involuntarily shuddered.  Fuck!!!! Man up!!!! he urged himself as he used to do in wrestling matches in his college days.  But then, he knew when the matches would begin – and end.  Now?  He just waited. Helpless. At the mercy of those who would show him absolutely no mercy whatsoever.  His body shuddered again.

    More minutes passed.  And then more.

    Then without a word, someone dripped body oil on his lower torso and stomach and legs. He gasped and struggled harder thinking the tickling would commence. Instead they prolonged his anxiety knowing the tension he felt toward the build-up of the actual tickle torture would increase exponentially his reactions to their touch once the tickling began.

    They oiled up his body, while stray fingers danced lightly on his skin, his sides, in an almost lazy distracted way, as if there was no rhyme or reason to how and where the fingers touched his tanned sensitive skin – always just short of outright tickling. That touching caused Curt’s body to tremble and stay taut and even more sensitive to touch. The boy tried desperately not to react, but ended him moving this way and that, his body shaking as he whimpered clenching his pearly white perfect teeth.

    But the rubbing and touching was deliberate – his tormentors knew exactly what they were doing and why, accentuated by the light feathery touching.

    Though the handsome youth tried to not show any reaction, his tormentors were too experienced, too skillful and sadistic, knowing that the light touching everywhere on his writhing body would cause Curt almost unbearable pleasurable sensations – but falling just short of outright tickling. Each finger touched areas that were both erogenous and extreme tickle zones for the boy. He never knew when they would actually start the outright tickle torture, so each touch would send him to the edge of panic, with the touching causing overwhelming unwanted excruciating pleasure that caused him to gasp, tremble and writhe.

    Fingers lightly brushing his hairy muscled calves and thigh as his muscles quivered and his entire body writhe in an unpredictable mix of sheer unbearable pleasure and near ticklish sensations that brought him to the edge of where tickle torture began. The hairs added to the unbearable sensations – acting as nerve endings almost as fingers brushed back and forth.

    Though he tried hard to use will power to ignore what they were doing, that defiance last just nano-seconds as the touching without fail caused Curt to react like a trapped animal. He would gasp, his body twisting this way and that as the fingers lightly touched his sides, pits, neck, torso, thighs and legs causing electric sensations that were intensely pleasurable but at the edge of being unbearable.

    Lightly, dozens and dozens of finger tips feeling to Curt like thousands of insects landing and exploring his undefended helpless body. They dragged finger tips up and down his body, up to his totally exposed hairy pits in an almost but not quite ticklish move, sometimes fingers brushing against his taut 8 pack stomach, nearing his ultra-ticklish belly button, but never drilling into it. Each finger caused a sheer panic reaction to Curt and his writhing body. His sweaty muscled helpless body trembled, twisted and turned in a futile desperate attempt to get away and stop the touching.

    “Ooooh shit!!!!” he whispered at the intense feeling that just bordered on tickling, as he tried desperately not to react, though his body twisted and tried to back away from the fingers dancing on his body in involuntary spasms of sheer desperation and reaction.

    And it continued. On and on – always short of tickling – but close enough – too close enough for Curt. He felt that he was on the very edge of falling into that black hole of outright tickle torture that was to come. As his mind fought off panic he wondered how he could survive the outright tickle torture if this touching was setting him off so badly.

    The fingers danced and brushed just short of outright tickling and then backed away from that edge as his body writhed and his mind went on overload with a confusion of mixed reactions. It kept Curt’s body taut and writhing from the sensations – and rocketed his anticipation and anxiety of what was to come.

    The waiting.

    “OH SHIT..Aaaah..no..Don’t do this…..don’t oh shit…oh shit noooo…oooh god god..please don’t…” Curt, said quietly clenching his teeth his voice sounding tormented as if he was shivering from the cold. It was the feathery touching that drove him to that point.

    He didn’t realize it before but the buildup to whatever was going to happen to him was becoming to Curt as terrifying as anything he experienced before. He was a man, a strong Alpha Male straight frat jock boy who could face anything and yet his body quivered, his mind kept dissolving into hysteria and panic that he fought to bring back under control and defiance. Come on Curt he told himself over and over as fear swept over his body and mind as his tormentors toyed with him – knowing exactly what they were doing – you can fight this Yu can take this and fuckin show them. They won’t break you.

    But his mind and body knew his resistance; his ability to withstand being tickled could be measured only in seconds. He knew that but somehow he had to fight them. Tears flowed from his eyes that he could not control, as his body writhed from the intense touching of his entire body that caused electric sensations just short of tickling. How long could he last just with this? And then be tickle tortured? The feeling of doom of being tickled was like a thick black cloud that now totally enveloped Curt’s defiant resolve suffocating it, as more manly tears flowed from his ordeal. He would die from this – from what was to come he thought.

    Oh god oh god oh god I’m so fucked oh god Curt thought as his mind dissolved in panic, his body trembled. If he could count on the coming ordeal lasting a finite amount of time – 10 minutes, 20 minutes even and hour he could steel himself to that – maybe not entirely – but there was always hope to last it out in some way.

    He knew that the tormenting would be non-stop and these freaks, Curt now knew, loved prolonged tormenting. And he remembered that Jesse mentioned “days” of tickle torture. And that month long tickle torture session with that group of tickle sadists. A daylong session with that freak of a guard named Santini. Oh fuck oh fuck Oh god oh god Curt thought. How can I survive all that? He wanted to die. Right now. This second, his body trembled and struggled more violently in pure flight mode.

    But it was too late. Far too late. His fate was sealed when he stopped at that gas station. He cursed his former neighbor. He caused all of this Curt thought in a burst of rage that dissolved again in trembling fear. He prayed that he would pass out soon, not realizing they would simply revive him and then resume the tickle torture, repeating the process over and over as needed.

    His tormentors, feasting on the sight of this incredibly handsome, straight tormented boy, gathered around him, their hot breathes he could feel on his face and skin, always knew how to adjust their touching and taunting to keep their incredibly handsome straight frat jock boy captive right on the edge always. They inhaled his scent of his musky sweat covered muscled body.

    As they touched and caused his body to writhe and buckle and bolt uncontrollably, they still marveled at how beautiful he was – how sculptured his body was, almost dizzy with lust because his body’s reactions to touch was so off the charts. They would show this entitled straight boy absolutely no mercy.

    “Oooooh shit…ooooh…oooooh” Curt moaned and gasped.

    The touching went on and on, always to the edge of outright tickling with sensations so intense. In and out fingers would touch him everywhere that triggered electric pleasurable sensations that collided with almost stinging unbearable ticklish sensations and then back and forth over and over as he gasped, moaned, his body going this way and that to escape the intense touching. It was like his muscled sweaty oily body was being touched by the fine ends of hundreds of live electric wires.

    The feeling of the finger tips lightly brushing and dancing on his skin, along his sides and stomach and thighs and legs bordered just to the very edge of erotic pleasuring that was unbearable almost over the cliff that was an excruciating unbearable ticklish sensation.

    But not over that edge – yet, Soon. Very soon now.

    And Curt knew that. Their torturous touching kept him right on the edge of explosion, causing confusion in his mind on what was going to happen as his body tried futilely to escape from this ordeal. But now he had to fight off the wave of sheer panic in his mind and the doom he felt, knowing that the tickle torture of his helpless body would happen any second. He could see them getting into position, with the touching ordeal now over.

    They were staring at him, all of them, with maniac hungry grins.

    “I’m fucked…oh god…” Curt thought his eyes wide with anguish, shaking his fists helplessly that were chained. He knew once the horrible tickling began there would be no end, no stopping the frenzy of the gang of tormentors surrounding his tied up helpless naked body. Every second mattered to delay the torture that Curt knew he could no longer stop but his mind and body was overwhelmed now by sheer blinding panic to escape like a fish caught and trapped in a net gasping for air with a single minded focus of only survival.

    Now the seconds were running out – like that hour glass emptying into the other side completely.

    “Oh god….no…don’t do this…” Curt whispered in a desperate pleading but still masculine voice, staring at one of the men who was closest to his head.

    He could see people moving around him. His body grew taut and covered with goose bumps from the fear and anticipation.

    He stared back at them, like he thought a man should – at his tormentors, his teeth clenched but said nothing further. He knew nothing he said would change what would now happen. He had to show them he would take it like a man – like a man he felt they were not.

    He could see several guys gathered now near his feet. Curt’s body shuddered involuntarily, despite his efforts to show no reaction.

    Now it would start.

    Before Curt could saying anything further, Justin moved in on Curt’s sweat socked feet with his fingers, lightly tickling the soles of his right foot, then his left, back again, and then concentrated on his right as he inhaled the sweaty boyish foot powerful foot stink of this Alpha Male Frat Boy. That Alpha Male defiant façade crumbled instantly, first in shock, his mouth opened wide horror and gasping for breath.

    “AAAAHHAHAHAHAH NO!!!!!! NO!!!!!! STOP!!!!! SOMEBODY STOP HIM!!!!!!STOP!!!! SOMEBODY!!! PLLLLEEEEEEAAAASEE HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAA!!!” he shrieked in a babble.

    Now another one of the guys sat down on stools in front of each imprisoned quivering foot that provided each tormentor with easy and complete access, with lines of men waiting to take their turns to tickle and worship those feet.

    They slowly pulled little by little his sweaty socks off, as Curt yelled and screamed for them to stop, exposing his clean size 13 feet, with clipped nails – a perfect set of squirming toes, running fingers up and down the sock covered soles, then dancing fingers on the bare soles as the boy shrieked.

    To those with feet fetishes, Curt’s feet and soles were total perfection, in addition to being, like the rest of his body, extremely sensitive to any touch at all.

    They continued to run fingers and hands over his soles – both feet at once as Curt screamed and then shrieked louder than ever before, laughing hysterically.

    “STOOOOPPPPPP YOU FAGGOT STOP STOP AHAHHHHHAHAHAH STOOOP STOPPPP!!!!! STOPP OOOOHHHAHAHHAAHAHAHHA” he laughed and begged and pleaded, his body twisting as much as it could, his legs shaking his feet trying to desperately pull away.

    It was sheer horror and agony to the boy.

    “We’re not going to stop Curt!!!! Not going to stop!!!!! You can’t do anything to stop us!!!!” Justin yelled as he tickled the soles, and then sucked each toe on both feet, while the others took turns dancing their fingers on Curt’s soles and toes.

    The thrashing, struggling, sweaty straight terrorized youth shrieked.

    “OOHFUCCCK!!!!SHIT!! AAHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHA” he shrieked his muscled lean body thrashing violently.

    Curt’s reaction was instantaneous, howling like a hyena, his muscled helpless body arching as much as it could on the bench, and then shrieking with laughter. The tickling of his feet was long and torturous and his reactions were off the charts.

    “HAHAHHAHAHHA OOH SHIT STOP STOP OK STOP STOPPPPPP!!!” he begged panting and laughing hysterically, trying desperately to regain control of himself. He failed.

    After 30 minutes, Justin produced a long stiff feather guaranteed to brush into his ears, and around his ear lobes, and against his ultra-sensitive skin of his toes, balls and cock. He ran it through Curt’s piss slit that made him feel like hundreds of tiny tickling tentacles that drove him insane. The tickling of his feet paused for a while – though the line of eager men to tickle those feet remained. They would resume in between attacks on other parts of the handsome boy’s struggling body. They always did that to avoid having their victim zone out from too many sensations. They wanted him to feel every finger and instrument used.

    Justin ran the stiff feather between each of Curt’s toes in a light sawing way that always elicited a huge groan, a shriek and then a burst of violent buckling from the tied up youth. Back and forth – between each toe and back and over again and again.

    Curt’s body trembled and his toes wiggled in a desperate attempt to get away from the tormenting, as the youth gasped and howled. 

    And then without warning, using the feather to brush his ball sack as he gasped and struggled to back away – and the side of the stiff feather along the underside of his scrotum. And then he grabbed Curt’s semi hard cock and sawed feather back and forth through his piss slit over and over – slowly and then fast and then slow again as the boy’s body jerked wildly this way and that to get away from the torturous feeling. With that, Curt totally lost it, going almost berserk, and shrieked. But there was no escape.

    “OOOOH SHIT!!! SHIT!!! NOOOOOO NOOOOO GOD STOP HIM!!!!!! FUCK..OH…CAN’T STAND IT OH GOD!!! PLEASE STOP STOP HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA HAHAHA AAAAH OOOOH SHIIIITTT AAAAAH NOOOOOO STOP STOP PLLLLEEEAAASSE OOOOH SHIT!!!” Curt shrieked in a babble of incomprehensible cursing and laughter and howling.

    Curt yelled, crying and then shrieked, while his body twisted, his semi-hard fuck meat flopping back and forth and desperately tried to pull his feet away. He became completely incoherent, drooling spit, tears coming from his eyes, but it got worst.

    “You must like this Curt. Yeah, your dick is getting hard. Yeah you sick fuck. YOU LIKE THIS, HUH?? HUH???” as his tormentor sawed the feather in a slow and then frenzied sawing motion, ever so often running the feather around his knob and cockhead ridge – then back to Curt’s ultra-sensitive piss slit. The boy went ballistic.

    “STOPSTOPILLDOANYTHING FOOOH GOD STOP STOP STOP STOP PLEEEASSE STOPPPPP!!” Curt screamed, gasping, struggling to break free.

    After several minutes his tormentor stopped – but like every pause – not out of any sense of mercy, but to move on to the next tickle torture torment or to allow him to rest so they could resume the torture with his body reacting anew.

    Justin produced a brush with hard bristles and showed Curt, gasping for air, his eyes wet from crying, and gave it to one of the hooded guys to use on Curt.

    “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAAHHAHAH Oh God …..STOP STOP PLEASE PLEASE…OH NO OH NO!!!!!!” Curt yelled like a man, but a man crying from the intensity of the tickling of his feet, his sweaty muscled body thrashing this way and that from the ordeal.

    Justin and the others smiled evilly and then another guy rubbed the hard plastic bristles of the brush at first gently then hard on his right foot sole. For Justin it was playing a human instrument – brush the bristle up and then down – and a shriek and howl immediately came from Curt. Sideways, up and down – in a circle…over and over. And always a high pitched shriek and howl that seemed leavened with the knowledge of pure horror that Curt knew would be unending. They used different brushes to evoke a different tortured reaction from Curt.

    “OH SHIT!!!!! AAAAAAAAAH STOP STOP AAAAH GOD STOOOOP TOO MUCH OOOOOOHHHH AHHAHAHAHAH!!!!” Curt yelled in a high pitched scream, trying to hold it in, his mouth open and his teeth clenched now in agony and panic.

    For 10 and then 15 minutes, Justin continued the torture and went to the other foot sole using a paint brush and got the same hysterical reaction while several guys concentrated on the other foot.

    “AAAAAAAAH AAAAAH NOOOOO PLLEEEASE STOP STOP!!! Curt screamed, coughing, struggling to break free.

    And then Justin used a bristled comb, running it up and down on Curt’s sole, and then in fast circular movements that drove the boy crazy.

    “AAAAAH SHIT SHIT!!! AHHHHHAHHAHHAH” Curt shrieked his body moving up and down his legs desperately trying to break free, “OH MY GOD AAAAH STOP STOP AAAAH HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!!”

    Aaron with a bristled comb, joined Aaron with the torture. They stopped for a minute while the boy again gasped for air – and Daniel gave him some water, while he begged for them to stop. Curt, his beautiful long lashed eyes filled with tears from the torment, his body trembling, still desperately tried to break free in a burst of another futile Alpha Male bravado. His mind raced in a blur of sheer confusion, panic and terror. His tormentors stared at the writhing sweaty terrorized youth as he gasped and panted, his eyes wide in panic hoping it was over.

    “Oh God Ooooh God…Please…please no more…” Curt whispered to them trying to catch his breath as his muscled sweaty chest heaved and his body trembled involuntarily from the ordeal.

    He wished he could tell them to fuck themselves and to bring it on. But his terror overwhelmed him because he knew – as they did – that his torment was not even close to being over.

    They smiled, and then resumed the torture on his feet.

    “GOD GOD PLEASEEEEEE HHAHHAHAHA OOOOH GOD SHIT STOP STOP STOP AHHHHHHHHHHHH” he shrieked, thrashing as much as he could.

    His hair was plastered on his head from his dripping sweat giving the boy an exotic sexy look almost to his tormentors. He was desperate and promised anything if they would stop. To his tormentors – and the huge video audience, Curt never looked so sexy and beautiful, looking as if he just came off the field from an intense game or from the floor of a long wrestling tournament.

    Bobby made a deal with Curt “Hey Curt, so get your straight boy prick hard and shoot a load for us – and then we will stop, okay? But you gotta get it hard – and shoot our way for an hour. Or else we tickle the shit out of you even longer. We have all fuckin day dude. Alllll fuccckin day. And one more thing, and this is important….if you tell us to ‘stop’ at any time while you are being edged and cock polished during the hour before and after you shoot…once you agree to this…well, then if you say ‘no’ at any time while its being done, we will stop and start your tickle torture all over again and add two more days to the week to make up for not keeping your word. So you better keep your word Curt.”

    Curt stared at Bobby wide eyed and suppressing any rage and hate he felt for especially toward him, and desperate to stop the tickling, he gave a half nod of his head, his mouth and lips pressed tight in humiliation.

    This straight boy Alpha male athlete was being forced to concentrate his body and mind on getting his straight boy dick hard – and then to shoot an orgasm caused by another guy touching him – and in front of these faggot tormentors. But he had no choice – he couldn’t endure the tickling that terrorized him. But he didn’t realize that Bobby said “shoot our way” and that they were giving Curt no choice or relief at all. In fact they would force him to choose tickle torture to stop the even more torturous cock polishing.

    At the moment, Curt saw he had no choice. He couldn’t endure any more tickling, though the cock polishing before and after shooting terrified him too. But compared to what they said would be endless tickle torture covering two weeks, Curt thought he could endure the cock polishing because there was a time limit of an hour. Or so he thought. He nodded.

    “What was that Curt? You need to tell us you agree”.

    “YES!!!! YES!!! OH SHHHITTT!!! I FUCKIN WILL DO IT!!!! STOP STOP STOP OOOH SHIT…I FUCKIN AGREE!!!!” Curt yelled in agony, gasping in part relief, in part anger and in part fear of now what was to come.

    A hooded guy – Curt couldn’t tell who he was – got between his spread out restrained legs on the bed and lapped slowly upwards from his right thigh, as two other guys slowly – but not done in a way to invoke tickling, moved one or two fingers slowly up and down his torso, then lightly brushing his pointed erect nipples, then lightly dancing their fingers on his pecs and down again his torso.

    The guy between his thick muscled legs lapped now at Curt’s sweaty loose balls, sucking the sack, and then gobbling up each duck egg sized ball, as Curt gasped from the pleasuring. He tried not to. His cock grew semi hard uncoiling like an enormous sleeping hooded cobra. The guy finally licked slowly, nibbling at the root of Curt’s fuck meat, lightly pulling at the pubic hairs, and then slowly dancing his tongue and nibbling ever so lightly up the now hard stalk, pulling at the foreskin that retracted back down his shaft, using his pointed tongue to lap between the tight yet elastic skin and the boy’s trembling hard shaft, causing Curt to gasp and tilt his head back from the intense feeling. The hooded guy lapped all the way to the very tip of Curt’s engorged jock meat, inhaling the boy’s intense musky odors and danced his tongue on the underside of Curt’s mushroom head and then sucked swirling his tongue everywhere on the boy’s ultra-sensitive cockhead.

    “Oooh god god…” Curt moaned quietly – trying not to react or to let his tormentors hear him.

    He hated that he was responding like this from a guy sucking his dick. And yet he knew that if that guy sucking him – with the incredible sensations from the tongue on his knob, flicking at the ridge and underside especially, causing Curt to tremble and thrust his hard prong in a fucking motion, that the hooded boy ignored, with the others holding down Curt’s pelvis and stomach, restricting any further such movement. Meanwhile the fingers dancing up and down his torso and brushing his nipples – with the fingers wet with lube, continued, causing Curt even more unwanted pleasuring.

    His dick was hard as a steel rod – his tormentors never got tired of seeing this straight boy’s monster fuck meat hard, and loved seeing it grow from limp, soft to raging hardness looking for a pussy to fuck. His cock head was wet now with the hooded guy’s spit but also beads of syrupy pre-cum leaking from his cockhead slit, which the guy lapped up, moving his pointed tongue into the slit, causing another loud gasp from Curt, his tongue, cleaning and caressing the insides of his retracted pungent smelling foreskin.

    But then the hooded guy produced a new even more wicked long feather, tested on earlier young handsome straight boy victims to cause instant hysterical unbearable reaction. Without warning, while two hands held his cock steady, ran the feather slowly and then fast and then slow over and over through his piss slit, causing excruciating electric unbearable sensations from the inside and tip of his cock through his entire sweaty tormented body. Over and over as Curt shrieked in terror.

    “AAAAAAAAH WHA WHA NOT AGAIN OOOOH SHHIT NOOOOOO THHEEE FUUUCCCK OOOH SHIT AAAAAAH SHIIIIIIITTTTTT!!!! STOP STOP AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!”

    Over and over and over as a couple of thin finger tips tickled his sack, adding more to his tormented misery.

    “I…I…OH SHIT…I CANT FUCKIN STAND IT OH MY GOD OOOO I CAAAAANNN’TTTT I..OH SHIT CAN’T TAKE IT YOU FAGGOTS OH SHIT!!!! I..I…OOOOH OOH GOD!!! OOOOH SHIT!! AHHHHHHHHAAHAHAHAHAH!!!!” he screamed as his body thrashed back and forth, his long dick waving like a flagpole in a hurricane.

    Now the hooded guy bent over and swallowed Curt’s pulsating steel hard fuck meat in one gulp, and then up sucking only his sensitive head. The hooded guy’s swirling tongue on Curt’s knob was pushing him closer and closer to the edge of shooting a load – despite the Curt’s disgust and revulsion, aided by the fact that Curt so desperately wanted the tickle torture to stop. If this would do it – he would force himself to let loose and shoot a load into this faggot’s mouth.

    The hooded guy now got off his cock, and used his lubed up hand, with the other holding the root of his hard fuck meat, with his right hand fisted with an opening to allow the boy’s cock through, touched the head and worked its way slowly – very slowly down the entire length, causing excruciating unbearable sensation to Curt as he tried to suppress a moan, and then a scream of “OH SHIT!!! JESUS FUCK OOOOOHH!!!”

    He held the stalk and using the palm of his right hand, moved it running along the top side of Curt’s shaft all the way up to the head, and curving his palm and rubbing the head in a downward motion, and off his dick, repeating that over and over as Curt’s body thrashed from the unbearable sensations. He shrieked and cursed them, as he struggled almost violently to break free and stop the assault on his dick. Over and over he rubbed his palm as Curt screamed. The sensation was too unbearable – and made his shooting a load impossible.

    And now the hooded boy over and over and over brought his fisted hand to Curt’s cockhead and slowly down the shaft, and then repeated the process – never moving his fisted hand upwards that would have made the boy shoot. Always and only downward – and slowly causing maximum unbearable sensations. After 20 minutes he held the root of his dick while he used his hand now to palm and apple polish the head – causing Curt to squeal and scream from the unbearable sensation. He couldn’t stand it – the feeling was too unbearable.

    “OOOH JESUS AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH TOO MUCH OHHHH AAAAH!!!” he screamed. “YOU SICK FUCK!!!! AAAAHHHHHHH”

    His tormentors loved seeing this alpha straight boy Curt thrash and scream having his straight boy fuck meat polished and palmed. Where was his arrogant cocky attitude now? That tireless stamina to endure as a star athlete? The cock polishing and palming, and downward stroke only of his head and shaft was done slowly to increase the boy’s agonized unbearable sensations.

    “AAAAAGG JESUSFUCK OOOH GOD I CANT FUCKIN..OH GOD NANA NA STTOOOO AAAHH STOO AAAAAHHHOOOH GOD!!!” He shrieked in agony his body violently buckling the restraints and hands holding him down.

    “What did you say Curt? Hmmm? Did you want to say ‘stop’ or ‘no’?” Jesse asked.

    His mouth, coughing and shrieking out obscenities and curses at his tormentors, desperately to form words to get them to stop, even if he knew they wouldn’t. His voice quivered with words coming out in a babble of animal like sounds. He gasped, he shrieked – the cock polishing was far too intense as his body shook, trembled and buckled.

    Curt’s beautiful face was a mask of sheer agony, his mouth now tightly clenched in a futile effort to withstand the torment being done to his knob and shaft and balls. His eyes closed tight in desperation to shut out what was happening, but the polishing and stroking only intensified and his eyes flew open when a palm slowly rubbed his knob in a different direction that caused even more unbearable sensations – flicking the underside of his knob and going ever so slowly to evoke every possible agonized feeling from him. The hooded guy kept on polishing Curt’s dick over and over for another 15 minutes that was unbearable to the tied writhing straight boy.

    “MMMMMMMMMMHHHHH AAAAH SHIT NOOOOOO AAAAAAAAAAAH FUUUUCK STOP STOP STOP STOP OH SHIT”

    No way could the boy cum with his dick and cockhead being so tormented with excruciatingly unbearable electric pleasure. The downward only slow stroking drove him crazy. He gritted his pearly whites, his long lashed eyes tightly shut to ward off shrieking – but that last just a few seconds. He couldn’t stand it.

    “AAAAAAH NOOO FAIR…NOOO OOOH SHIT >>>OOOOH GOD FFFAAIRRR OOOH SHIT NNNNOOOOO OOOOH FAAAAA AAAAAAH SHIT SHIT! OH GOD STOP STOOOOOP OOOOOH GOD GOD PLEASE!!! OOOOOH OOOOOH AAAAHHHAHAHAHAH OOOH SHIT SHIT PLLLEEAASE OOOOH MY GOD …NNOOO FFAAAIIIIRR OOOOH SHIT SHIT OOOOHHHHH GOD STOP STOP STOP” he shrieked realizing this was even worse than the tickle torture.

    Finally the hooded guy did, holding the boy’s steel hard fuck meat for all to see – coated with lube – but no hot spooge. Curt couldn’t shoot his load that way. He failed.

    “Well Curt. I guess your reputation as a fuck machine is just talk. Can’t shoot your load, huh? Well, guess what – too bad for you. You lost. We’ll continue tickling the shit out of you…” Bobby said, taunting the boy, as Curt’s eyes widened in sheer rage and panic. “We’ll give you a moment to rest…”

    “NAH…YOU ARE RESTED ENOUGH!!!” he said as they began to tickle Curt.

    “NO!!!! NOOOOOO AAAAAA HAHAHAHAH SHIT OH GOD STOP PLEASE NO NO AHHHH NOOOOOO AAAH HAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA HAHAHAH AHAHA !!!!!!” Curt yelled as fingers poked his sides, causing him to burst with laughter and shrieks.

    Curt literally wanted to die – his mind was slipping fast into the zone of insanity crazed by the non-stop tickle torture, cock polishing and palming that he had no defense against.

    “Well, you seem to like it Curt – since you’re laughing so much. Stop laughing and we’ll stop….Go ahead guys!” Jesse said.

    With that a group of hooded tormentors gathered around the pillory holding down Curt’s feet, and with even more intensity, attacked the soles of both of his feet, with their comb bristles while Curt screamed in terror and then from the unbearable sensation. They rubbed the combs up and down the soles slowly, then fast in an up and down motion, then sideways, then in the crevices where the toes connected to the soles, and then brushing the bottom side of his toes. Curt’s body violently buckled and twisted in a pure animal reaction, while he alternately shrieked and begged.

    “AAAAAAAAAAAHAHHHHH STOOOP OOOOHHGOD STOP AAAAAAHA” Curt shrieked with uncontrolled laughter and begging. Tears were streaming from his eyes.

    After 10 more minutes, they continued tickling his feet – though more gently now, as the boy gasped for air, his chest heaving, his body shaking, it now. For a solid hour they had tickled his feet and toes with fingers, hands, tongues, combs, brushes, cue sticks, stiff feathers and even ice – pausing ever so often to allow him air and water, and then resumed with even more intensity. He thought he would go insane – not the last time he would feel that way during his ordeal with these guys.

    “Okay guys, that’s enough of that” Jesse said.

    Now the feet tickling stopped.

    His body, bathed in sheen of pure straight boy agonized sweat, trembled and shook, the tormented straight boy panting heavily, thinking maybe his ordeal was over. He wanted to die. Literally.

    “Oh God….no more no more” Curt groaned, his body heavily panting from the ordeal, tears of agony filling his beautiful heavy lashed eyes as his body continued to tremble.

    The straight boy showed a look of relief showed on his handsome boyish face his muscled sweaty body trembled, his eyes full of tears from the ordeal. Somehow he was under the impression that his tickle torture ordeal was over.

    “Well Curt. You don’t think that we’re done are you? I meant the feet tickling is done with – well, for now. We’ll get back to your feet later again in fact we have you scheduled for a full day of tickling the shit out of your feet with some friends later. And those sadistic tickle masters who will you have you for a month? Oh they especially love concentrating on your armpits and feet! So don’t worry!!!!”

    Curt moaned and closed his eyes, his lips pressed tight, and then mutter “oh god no. you sick fucks….”

    “But now it’s time to pay attention to your other body parts and see if you enjoy having those areas tickled as much as you did your feet!” Jesse said to Curt’s horror. “Unless you want us to polish and palm your cockhead again – or we can do both while tickling the shit out of you…”

    Curt’s body thrashed this way and that involuntarily in a futile flight mode attempt as he heard the threat of tickling again, and gasped “Oh God NO NO!!!!!!”

    Aaron went over to the middle of the bench in front of Curt’s twisting and still struggling body. Aaron put his long fingers on the straight boy’s flat muscled stomach and abs, breathing hard in anticipation, gently at first, circling closer and closer to his sexy belly button hole, one finger following up and down, brushing the wiry hairs of his treasure trail.

    “Dude..please…Please please….don’t….God…please…no…stop stop…..please….” Curt begged his frat boy voice quavering, twisting his body as far as he could – terrified of what was coming.

    His tormentor, smiling, now sat right on top of boy’s heaving lower torso that even more securely held him down exposing his pecs, neck, nipples, armpits and lower stomach and belly button to attack. He moved is hands a played out long fingers toward Curt’s pits and sides – though not touching his skin, to simply scare the boy, now trembling. Curt descended into panic mode because with a guy sitting astride his mid-section, staring down at him, clawed fingers and hands ready for attack, made him feel even more fucked and helpless. It also made it impossible for Curt to see or anticipate the other fingers and hands ready to attack his lower sides, stomach and belly button, legs and feet.

    “Oh no oh no…please no…Oh god….please no…no…” Curt whispered, as his eyes fearfully zeroed in all Aaron’s fingers, his sweaty muscled body tightly restrained but still wiggling to get away.

    Aaron smiled evilly and drilled all of his fingers into Curt’s exposed pits, the sides of his upper torso, and then his pecs and neck and then back again to his pits repeating it over and over as Curt shrieked as others danced fingers and hands all over his lower stomach and abs, poking fingers inside his sensitive navel.

    “NNNOOOOOO!!!! OOOOH SHIT SHIT!!!! AAAAH AAAAH HAHAHAHAHAH STOOOOOPPPPPP!!! SHIIITTTT!!!! OH GOD OH GOD!!!! GOD….GET AWAY…STOP….OH GOD PLEASE PLEASE GOD GOD GOD STOP STOOOOOP!!!!” Curt shrieked, laughing, yelling, howling, and gasping for breath.

    Curt, tears of total anguish flowing from his eyes, gritted his teeth, his body taut and quivering in a yet another futile effort to withstand the overwhelming unbearable sensation. To his tormentors – and the video audience of potential buyers – it was extremely erotic to see this handsome straight boy – with the perfect athletic body and cocky arrogant attitude that always comes with such a physique – tied up, broken down – at least for the moment – squealing and pleading for them to stop the tickle torture. Of course they had no intention of doing so – and Curt knew that which caused his mind to reel into sheer hysteria knowing he was completely doomed.

    Aaron, couldn’t believe how sexy and beautiful Curt’s body was – a perfect slab of sculpted abs centered by a belly button hole that was so inviting for further drilling of a finger. They kept up their attacks as he continued to sit on the boy’s heaving mid-section, feeling like he was riding a bull as Curt’s body continued to buckle up and down wildly.

    During Curt’s breaks, they showed on the large video screens and to the enormous audience watching live video stream…split screen of the boy’s panting and heaving body trying to recover, still trembling from the non-stop tickle torture…but now showing again, the pictures and videos from Noah’s camera. Those pictures and short clips reminded the audience and the 30 or so tormentors surrounding Curt now – of just how arrogant and beautiful this straight boy was.

    The previously hidden videos showed pictures and videos of Curt’s board shorts with his crotch bulging. Shirtless washing his car, or working out in the apartment gym. Prowling the pool area and picking up beautiful girls like the sleek predator he was. His creepy upstairs neighbor had caught it all and it just added to the desire for the boy for his tormentors now and for those watching live stream. They – and the audience – now realized how the videos and pictures increased the intensity and lust for Curt – especially because it was taken without Curt’s knowledge and contrasting those images with how the same straight boy was now reacting – trapped, naked and tickle tortured without mercy.

    They now focused back on Curt’s panting tortured tanned muscled body, looking his sexy masculine treasure trail of wispy brown hairs – which Aaron’s nibble fingers followed. Curt’s body tightened, and his teeth clenched and eyes closed to in yet another futile attempt to withstand the growing unbearable sensations.

    Two of his tormentors began to dance his long fingers up and down quickly on Curt’s flat muscled stomach with both hands, drilling his finger skillfully to the shrieking boy’s vulnerable sides as Curt giggled loudly “oh Jesus…noooo not again…pleeeaasssee…. ahahhhahhhhh hahhhhhhh” and exploded in laughter “Oh god!!! Hah Hahahahahhahaahhhahha no no no….ahaha…stop stop stop…..stop stop oh..hahahahahahahhaha….stop…..”

    They continued slowly with both hands, lightly fingering Curt’s abs, and belly button, and lower sides. Curt went crazy, buckling and struggled hard to break loose. After 20 minutes they stopped, while Curt slumped gasping for air. There were dozens of other guys waiting to take their turns. It seemed to Curt like an endless supply of tickle torturers for his body, and seeing that broke down his resolve to fight it. They could do this forever and his ability to fight back could only be measured in nano-seconds.

    “OOOOOH GOD GOD!!!! Please God!!!! Please!!!! Ooooooh please please please no more..ooh please no more!” Curt, panting heavily, his shaking voice trying desperately to form words as he panted in anxiety and to recover.

    “No nooo..more..more..no more…please,” he said in almost a whisper, eyes filled with tears, begged, almost sobbing now, sweat pouring down his body choking back unwanted unmanly sobs but failing. His body was heaving heavily from the workout

    They wanted Curt to be pushed to the very edge – and then over the edge and back and back and of relentless, no mercy tickle torture – to the point where his mind goes blank and his eyes roll back and screams turn into high pitched shrieks. He was already at the edge, ready to be pushed over – and they knew it,

    “CAN’T TAKE IT OH OOOOOOOH OH SHIT FUCK STOP CAN’T CAN’T AAAAHHHHH AAAAAAH TAAAKE IT AAAAAH HAHAHAHAHA” he screamed.

    His tormentors stood behind Curt’s upper body that was tied to the raised bench and began touching his upper and lower back with running fingers – back and forth, up and down. Others continued to gather around his feet and on both sides of his body.

    “OOOOH SHIIIITTTT!!! HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHA” Curt gasped and shrieked, arching his back, trying to get away from the running fingers but couldn’t.

    None of them let up – lightly tickling Curt’s ears, neck and then down to his sides and following down just touching the hump of his white bubble butt that was slightly exposed when the boy lifted himself up from the bench in his struggling.

    “OOOH GOD STOOOOP STOOOOP HAHAHAHHAHHAHAHHAHA OOH SHIT CAN’T CAN’T TAKE IT PLLEEEAASSEE STOP STOP CAN’T TAKE IT OHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHHAHAH!!!!” Curt screamed, trying to form words but dissolving into unwanted laughter sounding like a human hyena.

    Curt immediately gasped, arching his sweaty muscled back as far as he could go – but he could never go very far with the way he was bound and restrained. The torturous fingers simply followed, never losing contact with Curt’s ultra-sensitive skin and thrashing body. It was extremely erotic to see this sexy boy tied up and stretched out on a bench, arching his body – his chest, nipples, stomach and cock pushed out and stretched as far as his tied hands and lower body would let him. Helpless. Begging now.

    “OOOH SHIT !!!! SHIT!! STOP STOP STOP!!!!”

    But there was for Curt no escaping the methodical fingers of his many tormenters who seemed to be relentless in tickling him up and down his back, his chest, armpits, inner thighs, knees, calves, feet – toes and ears. His tormentors knew exactly what they were doing, and each attack, while seemingly random at least to Curt, was planned and focused on causing the boy’s maximum tickled torture reactions. They had no intention of stopping or showing him any mercy.

    Curt’s thrashed his body wildly but to no avail.

    Daniel taunted Curt, “TAKE IT BITCH!!!! TAKE IT LIKE A MAN!!!! THERE AINT NOTHING YOU CAN DO DUDE!!! NOTHING!!!”

    Terrified even more by Daniel’s taunt, Curt’ shrieked in a incoherent babble of pleading for them to stop as his tanned muscled Adonis like body thrashed and twisted as far as he could. Curt never knew so many parts of his body were so ticklish – and it seemed each part got even more ticklish as they moved to a different part of his writhing body, tickling that area relentlessly, then returning methodically back to the earlier body areas they had attacked. There was no relief, no mercy, no safe word or respite for him.

    “OHHGOD GOD HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHJAJAJ!!!! OH SHIT!!!!! STOOOOP STOOOOP PLLLLLEEEAAASE STOOOP ” Curt screamed coughing, laughing, with tears flowing from his eyes, begging Daniel to stop.

    This went on for another 30 minutes, though to Curt it seemed forever, as he laughed and begged, long reduced to flowing tears , until they stopped. Curt’s head just hung from his shoulders, exhausted- his body sweaty.

    “Oh God Oh God….God please please oh oh oh god…” Curt gasped, his body shaking from the ordeal, his chest heaving try to catch his breath. Though he tried to desperately to act like a man – or what he thought should act like and endure this torture, he was exhausted, terrified now that they wouldn’t stop.

    He knew he was ticklish – but never had he ever been pushed this far – and never before was ever tied down and faced by perverts who would continue far beyond whatever limits or tolerance he had.

    His sweaty body quivering, and terrified, his bravado broken down, he overcome by sheer hysteria pleaded his tormentors “Ooh God please stop please….stop…..anything….please. God..God please..you gotta stop. Please”

    “Oh Curt….we just want to make you happy. As long as you laugh, we will continue,” Aaron said in a taunting voice as other tickle torture tormentors took Daniel’s and the other guy’s place – forming a long line at every part of Curt’s writhing, struggling sweaty muscled lean body, especially his hairy sweat soaked pits, sides, feet and his soles and toes.

    Especially that.

    In a frenzy of dozens and dozens of fingers, hands and tongues, combs and brushes and other tools, over and over and over continued for another 45 minutes without mercy causing Curt’s body thrash violently.

    “NO NOOOOOO HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAH OOH GAAAWWWWDSTOOOP” Curt screamed hysterically as the torture continued without letup until he passed out.

    They stared down at the beautiful unconscious panting boy, who, at least for the moment, as totally broken by their tickle torture. His Alpha Male bravado would return, they were sure, with a break. They untied his weary muscled arms from the posts, and re-hooked his wrist cuffs, and freed his feet from the pillory, which were still chained together. The boy’s body was covered with his sweat from the three hour tickle torture session (with on and off very brief breaks for him to give him water and time to catch his breath and briefly relax his stomach muscles from the laughter.

    It would be followed with a short rest period that only made the next four hour long tickle torture session even more torturous with a slightly renewed body ready to take on all comers. It would be followed by another rest period, then more torture, then sleep time, then another session followed by another. His ordeal of his tickle torture would not end for two weeks. But that wasn’t counting his long one day session still be scheduled with Santini, the guard that he had hurt when he tried to break away, or the month long tickle torture sessions with the consortium of tickle torture sadists.

    The very brief breaks in between while giving Curt needed respite from the tickle torture had also the reverse impact of giving him a false sense of hope that it was going to stop or somehow it would be less intense when it resumed or somehow he would be able to muster some defense to the renewed attacks. He was wrong, terribly wrong on all three counts. Curt, his straight boy mind conflicted and tormented, eventually dreaded the breaks because it made new the terror of the tickle torture that he knew would resume – but never knew exactly when.

    Now he was led back, restrained, to the previous area he was tied spread eagled standing – to the posts that chained his arms up and spread his legs out. He recovered somewhat his defiant attitude, and muttered “you guys will pay for this….I swear I swear…” He closed his beautiful lashed eye, looked up to the ceiling as if praying for deliverance. His tormentors knew none would be coming.

    “Hey Curt!!! We thought you might want to try something different from all that tickling” Daniel said.

    Curt, trying to hide his panic and hysteria opened his eyes and looked straight ahead at Daniel, and the others who were grinning, staring back at Curt’s naked spread-eagled body.

    “Oooh shit jesus,” Curt said under his breath – not wanting them to hear the fear that he was now feeling. Trying to hide that panic and fear, he struggled to break free – though he knew it was futile, his eyes closed tight in response to his body trying to break his restraints.

    Daniel slapped Curt’s face hard – back and forth.

    “OPEN YOUR FUCKIN EYES!!!!”

    Curt opened his eyes, staring angrily at his tormentors with hatred and a desire for revenge and looked straight ahead at Daniel and the others who were grinning, staring back at Curt’s naked spread-eagled body.

    “I…I…I..fuckin… will..l kill you …I fuckin promise…I…I will..” Curt muttered almost to himself, panting heavily, glaring at his tormentors.

    And then he noticed Jesse and Bobby holding a metal implement that had at its end semi-sharp teeth around a pinwheel. He had no idea what it was – but feared they were going to now disfigure him by cutting his body. Curt’s eyes grew wide in panic when he saw Jesse approach him in front (and Bobby in back) with those two neural stimulators or pinwheels. He thought the metal spike wheels were going to cut him open in a sawing motion by his tormentors.

    “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT???? SHIT GET THE FUCK AWAY!!!!” Curt yelled, struggling hard now – not familiar at all with the neural stimulator pinwheel. It looked to him like it was some sadistic device to cut him open.

    “These are neural stimulators. Pinwheels. Whatever. Anyway, doctors use them to test whether a patient has any feeling or reaction in a certain area of their body. Of course they do it just very briefly – and stop if there is any feeling or reaction, cuz the feeling can be pretty intense. WE on the other hand don’t do anything briefly, right? Now, it won’t hurt you. We wouldn’t want to cut that pretty body of yours. But…it will make you feel…REAL uncomfortable. I mean fuckin terribly uncomfortable. Oh yeah, you’ll scream your pretty head off begging us to stop. But…we won’t of course. It’ll test your arrogant attitude boy,” Aaron said mockingly, “you’ll thank us in the end. If it ever stops…and it won’t.”

    Curt wished he could block out completely their voices. He hated them. But the taunting succeeded in heightening Curt’s hysteria that he desperately tried to keep in check with his Alpha Male defiance that they broke earlier. But it always came back to Curt – but how many more times? The taunting was terrible to him and though he didn’t realize it then – it helped his tormentors by increasing the anxiety – and animal involuntary reactions when they renewed their torments on his body.

    The thought of those devices on his body – he had no idea what they were – or what they would feel like.

    One of his tormentors covered Curt’s eyes tightly with a heavy blindfold that completely shut out any light and dramatically increased his anxiety of what was to happen – as they had planned – as he tried to move his head back and forth in a futile effort to stop him.

    “OH SHIT!!!!! GET THE FUCK AWAY!!!!! NOOOOO!!!!!!” he yelled as his entire muscled sweaty body went taut.

    Curt, blindfolded faced where he thought Jesse was, and in a burst of bravado, yelled out “FUCK YOU!!!!” and clenched his teeth, pursing his lips tight.

    “Curt, you need to get hard for us. Now,” Jesse said, who wanted to run the pinwheel back and forth on Curt’s fuck meat – but the effect increased if the shaft was hard, especially if the pinwheel was run up and down the underside and then on the head, and then along the top length of the shaft. Over and over.

    “FUCK YOU!!!! I AINT FUCKIN GETTING HARD…FUCK YOU!!!! FUCKIN SICK SICK FAGGOTS” Curt spat out in a burst of bravado and enraged at the request.

    “Or…we can go back and start all over the earlier session and add two more days to the tickle torture week for you,” Jesse said as Curt’s eyes widened in horror.

    He nodded, clearly showing fear.

    One of the hooded tormentors came up and eagerly began to edge and stroke Curt’s long fuck meat, as the boy, blindfolded but feeling total shame tried get it hard. The guy in front of him – like all of them was an expert in edging and easily brought Curt’s fuck meat to rock hard state. Jesse smiled and touched the cold double metal spoke pinwheel on Curt’s flat muscled now quivering stomach that caused him to gasp and jerk away futilely. There was no escape from his restraints. Bobby waited with his pinwheel and then ran it back and forth and then up and down his abs above his pubes, as his body buckled violently as Jesse continued running his up and down Curt’s writhing body.

    “OOOOOOHSHIT WHA??? WHATTHEFUCK OH GOD!!!! NNNOOO AAAAAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAH OOOH AAAAAAH!!!!!” Curt screamed, his voice cracking and gasping at the unbearable sensation.

    The scream from Curt was so exquisite to the ears of his tormentors – even more so than the foot and body tickling. It was manly, yet with that reedy boyish sound that betrayed his youth. His tormentors were thrilled – they knew he would react to the stimulators – but didn’t know for sure how intense his reaction would be. It was off the charts.

    Curt babbled screaming “AAAAAHHHH OOOOOH GGGGGOD OOOOOH SHIT OOOOOH AAAAAAAAH FUCKINGMOHMYGOD nofucknofuck oooh ahhhhhhhahhhhhhahhhh!!!!”

    They really thought this guy could die from the unbearable sensations – worse to him than being tickled but like tickle torture. The trick – like tickling, his tormentors knew, was never to run the neural stimulators in one place on a victim’s body for more than a second or two – or else the body could adapt to the sensation. Keep it moving with just the right amount of hard pressure, but not too much, hitting the overly sensitive spots like Curt’s now hardened nipples, his dick, especially his sweaty duck egg sized balls, which shrank back from the intense cold, his hairy armpits and especially his back and rippling flat stomach. Neck, legs and feet.

    They eagerly took turns running it back and forth – waiting for the other to finish – before starting somewhere else on his body. No place was immune from their attacks. They ran it back and forth over his taint causing a squeal and shriek from their straight Frat Jock boy.

    Jesse, his eyes still glazed with pure animal lust, slowly moved his neural stimulator all over Curt’s chest, running back and forth over his erect nipples and then over his abs, while Curt gasped for air and tried to move his body away. He loved making this incredibly beautiful muscled straight boy writhe and scream. 

    Meanwhile Bobby was moving his back and forth and up and down Curt’s back, while Justin continued tickling both of Curt’s feet. He was shrieking and screaming – his chiseled muscled body twisting and buckling almost violently now, his limp cock flopping back and forth, slapping his stomach, thighs and balls. They liked running the pin wheels along the muscled ridges that defined Curt’s muscled chest and stomach, and tortured his erect nipples by running it back and forth and around it. His body heaved, struggled wildly as he screamed from the unbearable attack.

    They taunted him with a choice: they could continue with the pinwheels or tickle his feet, especially the soles and toes.

    “Stop your screaming Curt…My god, act like a man for once. Make a choice or we just continue,” Jesse said.

    Curt eyes opened wide as he shrieked again and again, and his mind went almost berserk, simply wanting the torment to stop and yelled “FEET!!!!!” FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!! AAAAAWWWW SHIT FEET!!!”

    His body twisted and turned from the pinwheels – and then they stopped and started to suck his toes, and run stiff brushes around in circles and up and down the soles of his feet. The reaction from Curt was a high pitched shriek of pure agony.

    “AAHAHAHAHHHAHHAHAHAH NOOOOOOOOOO STOOOOP OOOH SHIT NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

    They continued for five minutes until Curt, screamed “THE OTHER THING..STOP STOP I CAN’T TAKE IT..THE OTHER THING…”

    He didn’t know what it was called, so Jesse asked in a taunting calm voice “you mean the neural stimulators? Pinwheels? You must be clear Curt if we are to help you!”

    “YYEEEESSSSS!!! FUC!!!! STOOOPP YEEEEEESSSS!!!” he shrieked, gasping, and then a babble of laughter and cursing and violently struggling desperately trying to pull his feet away from the torture.

    They stopped. Smiled. And then continued torturing Curt using the pinwheels. Curt, getting relief from not having his feet tickle tortured anymore, screamed at the touch of the pinwheels. His mind was approaching the edge of insanity again – which was worse? Tickle torture of his feet? This? He was fucked in the brief second of sanity he had before descending again into non-stop screaming.

    Now Jesse moved the neural stimulator up and down Curt’s side, while Daniel started tickling Curt’s other side with his fingers. Waiting till Jesse briefly stopped, Bobby then ran his neural stimulator slowly down the middle of his back, until they approached his ass crack that cause the boy to stand on his toes shrieking in sheer torment from the sensation. They now moved over the hump of his bubble butt, now sweaty, and with his hand, parted his globes, and moved the stimulator up and down his ass crack—-oh so slowly.

    The screams from Curt now reached a peak, begging “OH FUCKINJESUS!!!!!! OOOOOOOOOH GGOOOOOOOOOD!!! Oh my god please oh god please..whatthefuckohjesusfohgodohfuck….” He babbled, shook his head, buckled his upper body, his legs and thighs tensed and struggled to break free.

    Jesse cruelly, without mercy, ran his neural stimulator through Curt’s crotch and sweaty pubic hair, and over his torso and stomach, nipples and armpits and arms – and then up and down his dick shaft on the knob over and over as the boy’s body shook violently, as he squealed, screamed and yelled at the unbearable prickly sensation. Right up the underside of his fuck meat to the mushroom knob, a particular sensitive area for Curt.

    Then Jesse without warning suddenly stuck it up and down between his legs, the back of knees, while Curt screamed even louder his entire body shaking.

    “AAAAAAAAAAH OH GOD OH GOD…AAAAAAH STTTOOOOPPPP!!!! OH PLEASE..STOOOPPPP!!!!” Curt screamed in sheer agony, twisting and trying to get away from the metal instruments.

    “OOOOH SHIT…FEET!!! FEEET!!! OH GOD STOPPPP!!! FEET” Curt shrieked, can’t standing the feeling anymore, and now preferring tickle torture of his feet, which he dreaded. But his body and mind were reacting to the torment now.

    “Oh I’m sorry….that choice was only allowed once….” Jesse said taunting the Alpha Male.

    They continued using the pinwheels for another 30 minutes as Curt continued to shriek, his knuckled fists over and over opening and closing tight.

    Curt, the Alpha Male college athlete that other guys wanted to be, the sexy frat boy who got any girl he wanted, was now just a naked muscled handsome screaming youth tied up and pushed again to the very brink of sheer insanity by the relentless unbearable torment. Like at other times throughout his tickle torture ordeal, his defiance would show and then disappear as the intensity of the tickling overwhelmed him. For the moment now, Curt’s defiance dissolved into a mush from the unbearable torture with a single focus only to just have the torment stop.

    But they were not done.

    Curt, still looking sexy and handsome to his viewing audience and tormentors, was knocked out with a cloth of chloroform over his mouth. When the boy woke in a haze, he found his naked sweaty body was encased in a full rubber body suit, his head hooded, with only an opening for his nostrils and mouth, and an opening for his cock and balls – his hairy armpits, a circle opening of his nipples and slightly hairy navel – and his feet – exposing those specific erogenous sensitive areas to skillful fingers, hands, tongues and instruments like pinwheels, brushes and feathers to tickle torture Curt to pure insanity.

    His tormentors would feast on those exposed parts on the spread-eagle tightly restrained boy on the bed – so tightly restrained no movement was possible.

    When Curt woke he went into almost a panic mode – never before had he been in a rubber body suit and hood though he actually didn’t know what he was encased in, because they had put him into it when he was knocked out. Curt just knew he was horribly trapped and it took all of his will power to stop the huge wave of panic from overwhelming him. It was like he was buried alive, except for certain parts of his body.

    He never felt so helpless in his life.

    He struggled furiously, but after a minute or two gave up knowing he was so tightly restrained and encased like a mummy. He was terrified – if they were going to continue tickling him – he had no ability now at all to move, to struggle even a little bit – while futile, at least allowed his body and mind to be distracted from the full intensity of being tickled. It also sped up the exhaustion – that allowed his mind to zone out. Only they always knew just when that happened, and stopped to allow him, to recover. For a few minutes – and then resumed.

    He breathed hard in terror and apprehension – and with pure dread. He could feel what he thought was a light blowing of air – someone’s breath on his armpits, pubes, feet, nipples. If they were going to resume his previous never ending tickle torture, he was doomed, trapped in a rubber suit that allowed absolutely no movement.

    Oh my god – I will die – I will die Curt thought trying to submerge the growing dread and panic the natural terror of any person being so tightly confined.

    Curt at that moment – and during the agonizing tickle torture he had just endured, he really did wish he would have died. The torment had been so completely overwhelming, prolonged and without an end, there was no way he could fight to resist it. Resistance then had lasted just a second before dissolving into helpless, pathetic laughter, shrieking, yelling and futile begging.

    He was still was defiant and enraged at what was being done to him, despite, but both attitudes quickly dissolved now that he was trapped in a body rubber suit, with the hood and gas mask cutting off any other sensory perception with the added fear of having his oxygen cut off. He knew that his exposed body parts were at the mercy of his tormentors – and he knew he would get none from them. Fingers now at his bare exposed feet and toes that seemed now even more ticklish and sensitive to any touch, caused him to shriek in laughter and agony.

    “OOH SHIT!!!!! OOOOH NOOOOO!! HAHAHAHAHAH!!” Curt shrieked in a high pitch scream of agonized laughter, begging and a babble of growling almost animal sounds.

    Bristles of hair comb, without mercy, brushed up and down and sideways over and over on one sole – then the other, then both at the same time as he screamed. But he couldn’t move even a half inch. It was as if his body was frozen or encased in solid cement or ice – exposed for his horribly exposed parts. He could only scream, shriek and plead. Over and over and over. He couldn’t believe how torturous this was. His mind went blank and then in a second, their fingers would instantly bring his body and mind back to the reality of his helpless predicament. Helpless. At their mercy. And they showed none.

    “YEAH CURT!!! TAKE IT BITCH!!!! TAKE IT!!! TAKE IT!!!! YEAH!!!!” one his tormentors yelled in his ear, nibbling it, loving the boyish sweaty scent there, as others increased their frenzied assault on the exposed parts of his body.

    “HAHAHAHAHAH OOOH SHIT OOOOOH HAHAHAHAH NOOOOO” Curt screamed, completely losing it now.

    Curt thought he had descended over the edge and into insanity, his laughter and shrieks so loud and animal like, the only reaction he could have, with his body so tightly restrained. The straight boy was sobbing now in sheer agony of the tickle torture. The feeling was unbelievable and excoriating. The tickle torture before was extremely bad – as was the milking and edging – but this was exponentially worse. Not being able to move even the slightest somehow made the tickling even more torturous, more unbearable helped by increasing dramatically their apprehension. For Curt, that made this tickle torture of his exposed body parts far worse and more torturous than when he was stripped naked spread eagle on the bed and bench.

    His tormentors made it even worse, knowing just how to increase his anxiety. To further tease and torment the boy, fingers would slowly walk their way up and down his trembling rubber covered body – building the anticipation and sheer terror of where those fingers were headed – to the exposed nipples, or a slit exposing the inside of his muscled thighs – or armpits, or his feet. His long pitiful shrieks and screaming mixed with uncontrolled laughter and begging always guaranteed they would never stop the tickle torture. He could never adjust to the sensations because they would never permit him to.

    When his responses seemed to lessen in any spot, they would use other devices or instruments or tools. Ice would be rubbed in the openings that exposed his taut muscled thighs, or his duck egg sized balls – or hairy armpits, causing a gasp, shriek and scream.

    His stiff long hard fuck meat was exposed – and vulnerable with unseen numerous fingers and hands relentlessly edged, stroked and polished his shaft, knob over and over and over, causing excruciating pleasure and unbearable sensations that he was helpless to stop. They took sadistic pleasure out of edging his steel hard meat, especially the underside of his hard shaft at the very tip of his mushroom head, over and over to the brink of shooting – and somehow knew he was there – but suddenly stopped as his frustration, rage grew.

    “OOOH SHIT FUCK!!!! FUCK!!! STTTOOOOOPPPP NOOOOO OOOH GOD OH MY GOD STTTOOOOP!!!” he screamed and yelled as his tormented body and dick twisted and turned as much as possible.

    They used feathers on his exposed body parts – particular his balls, fuck meat shaft, and a prolonged sliding back and forth through his piss lit with the feather – over and over as he shrieked.

    “TAKE IT…MAN UP AND TAKE IT!!!!” YEAH – TAKE IT BITCH!!!!!”

    The sensation was too much for Curt – he couldn’t see what they were doing to him – and had no idea it was feathers. Even if he did, he would never have thought feathers could produce such torment and agony. The electric sensation of the feather through his piss list caused only high pitched unending shrieks from the straight boy, something they loved to do to him over and over, knowing his off the charts reaction to it. Over and over and over as he shrieked.

    Like all that they had done to him before, the torment was increased tenfold because they prolonged the agony – as they did always did to Curt and the others – doing it over and over until the reaction faded somewhat, pausing and then resuming again and again when his body recovered and reacted with that frenzied response.

    AAAAAAAH AAAAAAAH HAHAHAHAHA OOOOOH SHIT SHIT!!!! STOP!!!!” Curt shrieked, laughing, yelling and begging.

    While doing that, one of the hooded guys would lick the soles of his feet causing a mixed unbearable and extreme pleasurable sensations, followed by sucking of each restrained toes – while another hooded guy did the same to his other toes, tied so tight, allowing him not even the freedom to wiggle any.

    “OOOOH SHIT NOOO NO STOP STOP SOTP OH SHIT!!!” he screamed as fingers drilled and ran up and down both soles of his feet, with toes sucked and tongued.

    Curt was in a hell of never ending misery and torments – his body subjected to this relentless edging, milking and tickle torture for several more hours. Hours later, when they stopped, they untied each toe, and took the restraints off each arm, leg, and carefully removed the rubber suit and hood that baked his body, as he was being unmercifully tickle tortured, cock polished and palmed over and over.

    He was covered in his sweat, his hair matted and wet on his head, his eyes wide and wild as if terrorized, and his voice sounding delirious almost from the tickle torture. The straight youth couldn’t stand, and was traumatized by the intensity of the tickle torture was so weak from his ordeal and had to be carried from the room to his cell to recover giving him a short break before his next tickle torture session.

    His tormentors in the room – and the huge live streamed viewing audience of wealthy subscribers and potential buyers – unfortunately for Curt – loved seeing him wrath and endure the edging and tickle. Curt would be forced into that rubber suit and neoprene suits many more times. Sometimes it would just expose his dick and balls, his fuck meat shaft with blue estim straps just below the knob halfway down, while pads on his loose duck sized balls.

    Curt’s body rested two days and then was subjected to non-stop tickle torture for two days followed by two days of rest, repeating the cycle for an agonizing two week period for the Alpha Male.

    Though still defiant and enraged at what was being done to him, Curt couldn’t help suppress the gnawing growing feeling of pure despair. How many more times could he be pushed to the edge of insanity by non-stop edging, fondling, licking, tickling, and whipping over and over? He shuddered at that thought, trying to stave off the hysterical panic that he would be turned over to that huge guy he injured while they were tying him down for the tickle torture – and then later to that group of wealthy tickle torture sadists that wanted to torture him with endless tickle torture – especially to his feet – for a solid month.

    The endless and relentless tickle torture truly traumatized Curt, his muscular body shaking from the ordeal as they carried then dragged him to his cell.

    In his cell now, resting until the tickle torture resumed, Curt wept. And then he stopped as the Alpha Male side of him berated the weeping. Man up Curt!!!! Fucking Man Up!!!! Don’t let these sick perverts break you!!!!

    He stopped crying. He glared at the camera focused on his tied up body in his cell, lifting his middle finger on his restrained wrist and arm toward the camera mouthing the word s “fuck you”.

    But a small part of his brain screamed at him when his bravado failed him: it was he who was fucked.

    Part 15 – Noah Wonders What Happened to Curt

    The end of the month came and went – and then several days more – no sign of Curt returning to his apartment to move the rest of his remaining things.

    When he left a month earlier Curt told the apartment manager, after paying for the full month that he would return in two weeks to get the rest of his stuff. But he didn’t like the fact that he had to pay for the remaining two weeks of the month when he wouldn’t be living there. But he realized it was his decision to move-out out so quickly. Or rather a decision forced on him to make because of his creepy upstairs neighbor.

    When he had sped out of the apartment parking lot Curt had cursed his neighbor below. He couldn’t even remember his name after living above him for a year. Was it Nick? Ned? Whatever his name was, Curt was enraged to find that the perv had been stalking and spying on him probably from the day Curt had moved in a year earlier. That was fuckin creepy to be stalked like that Curt had thought as he drove off. He could never remember that freak’s name anyway. Fuck him. I’ll keep his goddamn camera Curt thought as he drove off.

    But that spying and stalking had unnerved Curt – he couldn’t believe someone would do that. It had creeped him out to see thousands of pictures of himself – and some short video clips – of him shirtless, with a focus on his butt and junk. What guy would do that to another guy – even if he was gay? Sick. Well, he had planned on moving anyways to take that job in a few months. But he didn’t want to stay a day longer in his apartment with that creep upstairs.

    He had kept the pictures and videos on Noah’s camera, thinking not quite honestly that he was doing so for possible legal action against the guy. Curt had no intention of doing that – for one, the sheer embarrassment of having anyone else see these pictures and that the person doing it – was another guy. Being vain, secretly in his own heart though, Curt wanted to go through the pictures – maybe even the videos and save the ones that he thought were flattering.

    Curt had dismissed his neighbor from his mind as an unimportant faggot creep as he sped off from the apartment complex that fateful day .Fuck him he had thought then as he drove off. Fuck that piece of shit.

    He had remembered what lay ahead for him now: he was sure to get at least half of his apartment deposit back and when he returned to collect it and his remaining stuff, he would definitely hook up with those two girls he fucked two days before he left the area for good. He had smiled at that memory of the two girls who were so obviously hot for his body, though shook his head when he thought about how they tried to stroke his cock and rub his cockhead after he shot his load.

    They were almost sadistic – he never had a fuck session before with girls like that – but he liked their aggressiveness. They were unusual for the girls he normally dated or fucked with, but he liked them as long as he could control what they did.

    Still even with those two aggressive women, Curt was in control, as he was always with all his previous female conquests. He controlled the sex – because he had what they wanted.

    Or so he thought then as he drove away from his apartment complex onto the freeway. He had smiled again thinking of that fuck session and absent mindedly adjusted his large mound of junk in his tight jeans as he continued driving to his new life. His prick became engorged as it always easily did when he touched it or when he thought of a previous sexual encounter. He had made a mental note that he would have plenty of time to shower and clean up after he arrived in the late afternoon – early evening at the latest. Either way, early enough to quickly unpack what he had and then hit the bars and clubs for what he knew was always an easy time for him to pick up some hot babe who wanted his body. Hmm, he had thought. Maybe two. Yeah….that was fun.

    Driving for several hours he had noticed he needed gas and realized he had past the last big rest area with gas stations and restaurants. Curt worried a bit until he noticed up ahead a sign saying “GAS”. He was able to see one of those old style stations that looked like something from the 1950’s about two miles from the freeway. He had seen no cars there but it looked “open”, and he had realized there was no choice anyway – he was almost out of gas.

    Curt had pulled off the freeway to the one lane road to that station to gas up. It would be a quick stop with several more long hours on the road. But he had told himself then that he would clean himself up from the sweat, gas up and head quickly to his new future.

    Two weeks passed and no sign of Curt returning to get the rest of his things in his apartment.

    For Noah, the departure of his obsession was more than he could bear. In part it was because of the reasons he suspected he left – and the awful event that triggered it when he dropped his camera right on Curt’s nude body below his balcony – that was still running the camera video. That and the thousands of pictures and videos stored on the camera was proof of what Noah was doing – and had been doing in stalking and spying on his neighbor for the past year.

    Noah was worried and somewhat scared about Curt’s initial reaction and worried that he might physically hurt him for doing what he did or even worse, make it public by pressing charges. Noah was immensely relieved that apparently Curt told no one about the shameful incident – but simply left. He was scared about Curt returning given what he knew Noah had done – but Noah was also excited by that prospect of possibly seeing him again – that beautiful body, his handsome face and sexy voice. Of course he would have to find a way to do so without Curt seeing him, which would be even more difficult now with the boy knowing he was being stalked by Noah. He would figure out something – he had to see him one more time at least.

    Another week, passed with no return of Curt.

    Now three days into the next month, Noah asked casually the apartment complex manager, when paying his rent, if he heard from Curt at all. The elderly manager, thinking Noah and Curt were friends, since they were neighbors for over a year, opened up and expressed frustration. He had just gotten a phone call the day before from a friend of Curt’s who said he was passing a message from him saying he wouldn’t be able to return to get his things due to a new job he was taking out of the country. He had to leave immediately and the friend said Curt was sorry and that the manager could do whatever he wanted with his belongings that he left. The friend hung up before the manager could get his name or even a phone number or any other contact info.

    “So now I am left with getting rid of his stuff. Can’t even contact any family of his.” the manager said in frustration.

    Noah nodded, and then remembered Curt saying to one of the other neighbors that he didn’t have any family that he was still connected for some reason. Something about his parents, who rumors went, was divorced and drug addicts or something. Very sketchy.

    The manager, frowning, told Noah they would be forced to clear out the apartment in the next day or so. He clearly didn’t look forward to the task – and the expense of clearing out that apartment. He told Noah that he had to get the place ready for a new tenant who was going to move in the next week. Hearing that, Noah’s eyes brightened – maybe another handsome guy like Curt he thought? Trying not to act too interested, Noah asked if the new people were college students or a family.

    The manager, busy with writing out a receipt for Noah, mumbled “uh..what? Oh…no…neither. Older couple. Retired military I think.”

    Noah hid his disappointment, which only increased his longing for Curt.

    “Oh, well that’s nice. They’ll be quiet I’m sure,” Noah said.

    As the manager turned to head back to his desk behind the counter, Noah volunteered to help, offering as Curt’s “friend” and neighbor, to move his stuff and hold on to it for him in case he decided to return. Noah now knew that Curt hadn’t said anything about Noah’s stalking him to the apartment manager and felt safe in making the seemingly innocent and helpful offer of help.

    He nodded happily at Noah’s offer – that would save the apartment complex the large expense in moving his stuff out. He immediately gave Noah the key – and thanked him. Noah hid his excitement and reached for the key like it was sacred object that would unlock Curt’s secrets, said he would have everything moved out of Curt’s old apartment within two days – maybe sooner. He couldn’t believe his luck – he would have the chance to explore Curt’s apartment and take whatever he wanted that he left!

    His heart beating wildly in in a mixture of fear and anticipation, Noah rushed back immediately to his apartment and then back downstairs to Curt’s unit. Though he knew Curt was gone and not coming back – at least that was the message from the apartment manager, he still felt some apprehension as he walked up to Curt’s door. Even in his absence, Noah was still intimidated by him. Noah also didn’t know what he would do if Curt suddenly appeared on this very day he was in his apartment, despite what the manager said. What if Curt had changed his mind and came back to get his stuff? What if the manager got the information wrong? No – the manager seemed pretty certain and adamant he was coming back, or why would he give him Curt’s apartment key?

    But Noah felt a sense of guilt – not of stalking Curt with his camera over an entire year, but of being caught. If Curt did return unexpectedly right this moment, what would Noah say or do, after spying on him. What possible good reason could he give for being in his apartment now? He shuddered briefly thinking how Curt would be so enraged to probably kill him.

    He calmed his nervousness and convinced himself that there was no way Curt would be returning now – not with a full month’s rent now past due.

    He entered the apartment, opening the door slowly. The manager said that no one had entered the unit for the past month since Curt left. Noah was nervous with anticipation entering his idol’s home – the private sanctuary of the straight frat jock boy that he was never invited into during the entire year Curt lived there.

    Despite those fears, Noah was excited to be in there – and the incredible opportunity for him to freely examine all of Curt’s possessions just as he left it before his sudden departure a month earlier.

    He stood at the doorway, and stared, before staking a few tentative steps entering the living room area. Noah’s inhibitions vanished when he could smell the scent of Curt – the slight odor of deodorant he used mixed with slight odor of clean straight boy sweat that Noah always sniffed out when Curt would walk by. He remembered that smell when Curt would pass by him – though without ever saying hi or making any other acknowledgment. He videoed the living room and kitchen – wanting to capture it just as Curt left it.

    He saved the bathroom – and bedroom for last, knowing that there would be, he hoped, more intimate things of Curt. He saw the unmade queen sized bed, still covered with the sheets and bed spread he left, though missing the pillows. Noah’s eyes widened feeling overcome with lust at seeing the very bed and sheets where the stud tirelessly fucked one girl after another throughout the year he lived there.

    He closed his eyes imagining Curt’s muscled bubble butt, the two melon cheeks opening the crack and closing rapidly as he pounded relentlessly one pussy after another. His sperm had to be on this bed. His odor and sweat.

    Still, Noah was first and foremost interested if there his own digital camera was among the things left in Curt’s apartment – he hoped it was, afraid that the pictures left on the camera would be damning evidence against him for possible legal action. Unfortunately for Noah, no cameras or other electronic or digital type equipment was among the items Curt ended up abandoning. The furniture didn’t amount to much – but he kept Curt’s well used (and what looked to be a lot splatters of cum stains) queen sized bed because he knew that was where he had fucked all those girls the past year and it was to Noah sort of erotic to have that artifact in his own apartment now – with the unchanged sheets and bed spread retaining the boy’s scent – and Noah hoped his body sweat and stains.

    He kept Curt’s couch for a similar reason, thinking maybe he slept or sat on it naked – maybe even masturbated. Definitely it was the place where the straight frat jock boy made out and probably had sex with his numerous female groupies. Yeah, Noah conceded to himself it was creepy and his obsession over Curt seemed to get worse since he left – but no one else needed to know. And besides, he wasn’t hurting anyone with this fetish and obsession of Curt.

    The other furniture – desk and table, chairs – his small cheap array of kitchen appliances, cookware and utensils – he gave to Goodwill.

    Curt had taken many of his clothes, personal bathroom items – but many clothes remained – many cotton dress shirts, t-shirts, some underwear and socks. Clean towels. He kept all of those as souvenirs. And most precious of all – to anyone who had a fetish for smelling the dirty underwear and socks of a beautiful straight boy – was a clothes hamper with a lid – that contained a pile of his dirty clothes that he didn’t have time to wash before leaving. To Noah they were priceless items – almost like sacred religious relics.

    Three pairs of dirty boxer briefs (blue, black and one white) two pairs of plaid boxers, five pairs of dirty white – and also black – gym socks, 1 pair of jeans, three dirty t-shirts and 1 cotton dress type shirt and a balled up wash cloth that had a strong starchy odor (that Noah later determined was used by Curt to wipe his spooge off his dick after masturbating sometime before he left). The underwear had strong musky crotch odors – some piss odors and the typical male ball sweat smell – and a strong butt crack odor – but no other stains. The dirty socks had an intense sour smell. The boy – Noah noted – was a clean straight boy.

    While others might thing the obsession for even Curt’s dirty clothes might be a strange fetish, for Noah it was looking putting his nose right there where the material clung to on Curt’s beautiful sexy body that he had no hope of ever touching. So for Noah this was the next best thing. Noah would get off sniffing Curt’s dirty clothes while looking at the video he took on that last day he saw him outside on his patio recliner naked and passed out – before all hell broke loose. He still had his dark fantasies imagining Curt tied up – at his mercy – and being edged, milked and tormented endlessly, his fingers tickling his taint and then pushing into what he knew was a virgin tight ass hole. He wondered if any of his female partners ever touched and entered that forbidden hairy tight portal. Probably not. He knew now that fantasy would never come true – not that there was any hope that it would have even if Curt hadn’t moved out.

    He wondered where he was, though he knew given the circumstances that he would never actually see him again. But he had hundreds of videos clips, thousands of pictures of Curt without his shirt. But that precious short video of him naked passed out on his patio recliner just before his the digital camera fell from his grasp and woke the boy that contained over a hundred other clips and a thousand pictures were lost forever to Noah. When the camera fell from his hands onto the stomach of the sleeping boy below, waking him, Noah knew those pictures and video on that camera were lost to him forever. He could only imagine what Curt would do with them – his first reaction when seeing some of the images after the camera fell on him was pure rage – and caused him to move. Noah shuddered at the thought of Curt coming after him.

    But even that wasn’t going to happen now. He would never see him again. Noah sighed as he sniffed Curt’s dirty underwear that he had left behind that retained an overpowering pungent smell of his idol. It was incredible for Noah to be holding those garments, to know what Curt smelled like. His idol. His obsession.

    God I wish I could see Curt again Noah thought.

    Part 16 – Noah Discovers a Gay BDSM Video Clip Site

    The weeks since Curt left Noah started to explore the internet porn sites that featured gay BDSM movies and video clips. When Curt was around he never found the time or energy to do that. With him gone, he discovered several sites but one in particular that offered dozens of video clips posted by various people featuring sometimes pretty extreme gay BDSM videos. He found that he could partly fulfill his dark fantasy, at least for now, by watching videos on that extreme gay BDSM site.

    Once again, as he did when Curt was living below, Noah was anxious and excited to get home. He couldn’t believe how explicit and extreme many of videos were- most of them short – but intense bondage scenes. Watching those video clips became his singular to fully entertain himself with his free time and increasingly his way to achieve sexual satisfaction and release. To Noah it was completely satisfying – in place of having the actual Curt.

    Still, as explicit and extreme the video clips were to Noah, he felt it they always fell short of his own dark fantasy scenes, but was of the mind that the video clips posted so far were better than nothing. But he wanted more – he wanted to see a video that would be as extreme, intense with prolonged edging and milking that he visualized in his dark fantasies in his head. But he didn’t think that would happen.

    One day after rushing home from work, he restarted his computer in his spare room and his browser somehow opened up to a new gay bdsm video site he hadn’t seen before. Funny he thought briefly. He didn’t remember going to this site when he shut down the computer last night. Maybe he had clicked on one of the other bdsm site links by accident, though he usually checked to make sure he closed all of his browser tabs before putting his computer in hibernate mode. He was puzzled.

    But then he saw a picture of one of the videos highlighted on the site. The screen capture of the new video was of a handsome youth – face blurred – but clearly a muscled fit athlete tied and spread eagle standing. It was posted by a person who was identified as “The Stalker” but with no other information.  Noah was overcome with lust just seeing that screen capture and immediately forgot about how his computer opened up to this link in the first place. 

    Noah loved the screen shot of a boy – face blurred – spread-eagled naked – and the short video description. That first video and all the videos that “The Stalker” would eventually post would blast Noah’s dark fantasies into the stratosphere of his already intense lust and bring his obsessions to an entirely different level.

    He couldn’t believe it.

    The first of those videos featured that young man who was called “Pretty Jock Boy” with the video simply titled “Abduction, Edged and Milked Part 1”. It was a 60 minute bondage and edging clip of “Pretty Jock Boy” – his first.

    The short description of that first 60 minute video referred to the tied up youth as “Pretty Jock Boy” and described him as a 22 year old totally straight athlete being edged in a 6 hour session – and that this was a clip from that session that included electro on his dick and balls and thighs and asshole, prolonged cock polishing and edging – and then milking – without mercy or a safe word. That description along -without even seeing the video – made Noah’s dick go steel hard. He loved seeing young men – young straight men who resisted if possible – restrained and edged and milked.

    He pressed play thinking that the video would disappoint him – as all videos seem to do, falling far short of delivering fully his fantasy of seeing a straight boy helpless, tied up and really edged and milked and tormented without mercy in a session that would seem as real as possible with no way for the victim to stop what was happening – and for what was happening never to stop.

    This one was different. Very different.

    This video overwhelmed Noah. Unlike the previous videos that always fell short, he was now seeing his ultimate fantasies of bondage and edging come to life in an extremely intense and long video scene. The 60 minute video featured a young man – said to be straight in the video description – his face blurred by video editing but showing a beautiful smooth muscled lean body, framed by defined pecs, quarter size nipples and a washboard hard stomach, full head of short brownish hair, with sexy patches of brown hairs in his armpits, a treasure trail leading down to a nice patch of pubic hair and a hard cock that looked to be a full 9 inches over a tight bag of egg sized balls. The video description posted by “The Stalker” indicated that the youth was known as “Pretty Jock Boy”.

    Though his face was blurred by video editing, the shape of his head could be detected – and dark areas where his eyes and mouth were – that taken together suggested a very handsome young man.

    Something about the body of this helpless boy seemed to have a hypnotic effect on Noah and triggered an overwhelming and powerful lust in him. He became obsessed with this video – and Pretty Jock Boy.

    Noah stared opened mouth at the video. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing. It was to him a science fiction transformation – being thrust suddenly into his own ultimate sexual fantasy with every part of it coming to life right before him.

    In the video Pretty Jock Boy was struggling, tightly restrained spread-eagle by rope and chains connected to steel rings to two concrete posts, as he was slowly stripped of his clothes, exposing his blue boxer briefs clinging to his muscled bubble butt and with a mouthwatering bulge that deliciously displayed what obviously was a sizeable dick and balls. The room appeared to be very warm judging by the heavy sweat covering the youth. The stripping off of his t-shirt and jeans was extremely erotic, done brutally with violent rips and shredding by several hands – without seeing their bodies as he struggled and yelled his head off.

    The video now showed the defiant boy standing spread-eagle, legs splayed out also tied and chained to the two posts like his arms, stripped naked down to his underwear, a man appeared behind him. his head covered by a sinister looking ski mask – nibbling at the boy’s ears, tonguing it and biting his neck, while his hands roamed at will up and down his struggling body. As the video continued, another guy, also in a ski mask, appeared kneeling in front of the boy, just to the side, rubbing his nose under and over and around the boy’s crotch covered underwear, massaging the mound with light and firm touches to Pretty Jock Boy’s swelling hump-like bulge. The hooded guy would dance his fingers under the balls of Pretty Jock Boy causing him to lurch forward and yell – and then started to lick and suck through the damp underwear fabric the boy’s dick and balls that now could be seen clearly outlined pushing out in his tight boxer briefs growing semi hard to a full straight boy proud flagpole like erection.

    Another pair of hands from an unseen body – suddenly appeared, caressing the rounded bulge and butt cheeks still covered by his underwear and then in two violent tugs, ripped the briefs off completely, his hard 9 inch sweaty uncut prong flopping out pointing straight out in a classic steel hard-on. He gasped and yelled as the other guy in the hood kneeling licked the shaft slowly from root to just below the ridge of his knob, back and forth as the boy moaned, buckled causing his enormous fuck meat to swing back and forth lewdly. The boy was clearly resisting, struggling almost violently to break away as his body was fondled, licked – and his straight boy dick being licked and swallowed whole as Pretty Jock Boy’s body trembled.

    A full 15 minutes into the video, the buildup to where ever it was going was still playing out – to Noah’s surprise, who expected, always with anticipated disappointment, a video no matter how hot, short changing on the setup – and payoff, speeding through both. He looked at the time left for the video to end – it still had 45 minutes to go!

    The slow and deliberate actions combined with the length of the video made it very different than any other posted. It proceeded slowly – demonstrating clearly to the helpless straight youth that his ordeal was going to be very long and torturous indeed. Of course this was acting or consensual – it had to be Noah thought, but either way it was top notch and convincing. It seemed utterly real. And then, there was something about that boy. Noah was drawn to him.

    The video now focused on the other hooded man, who was nibbling, biting, and tonguing the boy’s neck and ears, worked his way slowly down his sweaty back, licking the skin, biting here and there down his spine, straight to the hump of his butt crack. The boy – Pretty Jock Boy was writhing in what appeared to be for the video, unwanted forced pleasuring of his body – with the video continuing on with hooded men sucking, or using hands to edge the boy countless times to the very brink of cumming.

    Never in his life or in any of the previous videos on the site had Noah seen anything like it, except in his darkest fantasies. Some videos clips sort of touched on those fantasies. But while extremely hot those video clips always ended too soon for Noah because the agony of cock polishing or post orgasm torments was never long enough. Almost always just a quick segue to another longer scene – never a long scene by itself. But this video was very different – not just because the length was feature film length – but it was the intensity and level of torments. And something about the model – Pretty Jock Boy. Something special about him too. Clearly he was handsome.

    Noah kept watching, almost in a state of disbelief, amazement and extreme anticipation of what could possibly be next. The video now showed Pretty Jock Boy now spread-eagle on a bed, tightly restrained by rope and leather cuffs with chains – totally naked and visible except for what appeared to be a leather or rubber hood – that covered his entire head with openings for his eyes – that were sometimes covered with duct tape during the session – and an opening for his mouth. His mouth was sometimes during the video, gagged with a red rubber ball – reducing his voice to mostly grunts – and some unintelligible yelling and every so often a string of very muffled words that mostly was impossible to understand.

    The naked defiant muscled youth, his biceps bulging in the video was now struggling, shrieking and yelling from being edged, milked, edged again and milked again over and over – with electro pads on his thighs, then on his abs and then on his dick, aided by a Hitachi wand with a ribbed cock sheath that vibrated up and down and over is cock head and shaft – with a butt plug sometimes vibrator and sometimes electro. This wasn’t acting anymore – his violent struggling, his body forced to endure pure unbearable sensual stroking, cock polishing and palming of his ultra-sensitive knob, ignoring every plea with the boy’s once masculine yelling reduced to shrieks then babbling and sobs, begging for them to stop.

    They of course, in the video, eventually did – but never when the boy begged for it. It seemed endless – and certainly, Noah realized, the unedited footage of the actual session probably felt that way to Pretty Jock Boy.

    Noah could only imagine how the rest of the 6 hour session went – and wished videos of the entire session would be posted. And more sessions tormenting this boy. It was to Noah simply an incredible 60 minutes of unrelenting, intense and prolonged edging, electro, more edging, nipple play and more edging and milking on this helpless tied up well built struggling straight boy. The long deliberate and methodical post-orgasm torments on his quivering ultra-sensitive hard cock – especially on the knob over and over – was almost too hard to watch even for Noah given the violent buckling of the boy’s body and sheer animal like shrieks when it continued on and on without end.

    He couldn’t believe how the restrained boy could endure such torment, though he loved seeing and hearing it, even if sometimes he almost felt sorry for the boy. Almost. And never sorry enough to not want to see the boy tormented even longer. The video description said that Pretty Jock Boy was straight. Maybe he wasn’t straight Noah thought. Maybe this wasn’t his first time – or maybe he was an experienced sub – though that didn’t seem likely from the reactions which seemed too authentic. Noah wished there was more in the video’s profile about Pretty Jock Boy. He was fixated by the boy.

    Even without more details in the profile, Noah could tell that Pretty Jock Boy clearly had an athletic toned, well-muscled lean body – and while hooded, his voice, muffled as it was, and even the shape of his head through the hood or when blurred by video editing strongly suggest a very handsome youth, clearly an athlete and acting not with standing – clearly in misery from being manhandled and made to cum over and over.

    After watching the video several times, Noah realized there was several Masters – each a total expert – not only in physical abuse done on the boy over and over – but in the mental abuse too that went with it. And each took their time – prolonging the ordeal, the palming or rubbing or tickle torture far beyond the endurance of the boy – until just the brink of him passing out. And even then they would each resume the torment – alternating segments of prolonged extreme pleasure edging his dick and always stopping short of allowing him to cum – causing growing rage and frustration by Pretty Jock Boy. Noah couldn’t believe what he was seeing and hearing.

    It was all he did now in his free time to rush home to see if new clips were posted of that boy. It was, for Noah, like watching a reality TV with no rules.

    But it was just that one video. He watched it over and over. He never tired of seeing over and over the violent thrashings of Pretty Jock Boy’s young muscled body in response to being milked and touched after cumming, with anguish shrieks, screams and yelling that had the reedy youthful masculine voice one would expect of a college type athlete.

    And then he discovered something he hadn’t clearly heard before. After yet another viewing of the video, jerking off slowly, he watched the entire video through without fast forwarding to the hot parts he liked. He wanted to see the entire video and every torment done on the struggling youth. Midway, he caught something that he had missed in all his previous viewing.

    He thought he could make out Pretty Jock Boy in an anguished muffled voice the words “OH NO!” – when hands and fingers touched his ultra-sensitive dick that just shot loads of cum, that were seconds away from a painful prolonged post orgasm torment especially focused on his knob.

    Startled, Noah previously fast forwarding the video – because nearly every scene was so hot – had not heard those words come out of the tormented boy before.

    With a start, he realized the voice sounded like Curt.

    Those words that he heard before – that sounded like his idol He then realized now how much Pretty Jock Boy’s shrieks, moans and yelling also sounded like Curt. The grunting – the muffled desperate pleading sounds of the hooded youth Pretty Jock Boy struggling from being edged and force to cum – and having his lower body electrified. He realized they all sounded like Curt – but it was that terror stricken almost little boy voice yelling futilely “ON NO!!!” that got Noah’s attention.

    Hearing that anguished plea every time now – and the other shrieks, screams, grunts, and yelling – once he made the connection to the similarity of Curt’s voice, made Noah’s dick flex hard. For Noah, that made the videos even hotter and played out his dark fantasies.

    That voice.

    “OH NO!!!!” 

    That anguish boyish reedy tone. 

    Yes, that muffled voice “OH NO” in the video sounded very similar to Curt’s – and a reaction to being tormented with post orgasm cock polishing and stroking. Yeah, Noah thought – it sounded similar to Curt’s voice when he had sex – just two days before leaving – with two girls who tried to stroke his dick after he shot his load. He yelled “OH NO!!!”. And stopped them.

    No way it could be Curt of course, Noah thought, but the similarity in the voice – the body and the muffled shrieks and screams and grunting – and even the muffled involuntary “fuck yeah” when Pretty Jock Boy was stroked and edged prolonged session that brought him intense pleasure and then an explosive orgasm. He could easily fantasize it was Curt.

    There was also something very familiar about Pretty Jock Boy’s body too. Maybe that was why he was so infatuated with the video. Noah looked at the thousands of stalker” photos and videos he had taken of Curt – and compared it to the video of Pretty Jock Boy. Bodies were similar. Similar brown hair – similar treasure trail and belly button. Smooth very defined body. Abs. Pecs and quarter-sized salmon colored nipples. Muscled thighs…with a dusty covering of brown hairs. But Noah realized the body of Pretty Jock Boy looked similar to so many other guys too – even if it also really resembled Curt’s.

    Noah even had a few pictures and videos of the one time for a few minutes that he was able to surreptitiously take them while the youth was drunk sleeping on his patio recliner. While his dick wasn’t hard – for a few moments it was semi-hard. He could see his pubes and balls and his cock soft. But Curt’s body and private parts didn’t have any special or markings and no tattoos.

    Yeah, he was un-cut, but so were a lot of guys – and Noah didn’t get a good look (nor did the video get a close view) of Curt’s dick. It all looked similar to Pretty Jock Boy or probably to hundreds or thousands of other boys. Without seeing the face of the tormented boy it could be anyone. But the similarity to Curt made these series of videos even hotter for Noah.

    He had lucked out in finding this site and this boy. He forgot about the weirdness he first felt when he turned the computer on and that internet site had just popped up. Now he could imagine – watching a real video – that it was Curt being tormented. Yeah, he had Pretty Jock Boy. Hot body and everything he wanted to see in a video of a straight boy being forced to cum. Now he could sniff Curt’s dirty clothes and underwear and pretend that Pretty Jock Boy in those videos was Curt. It was easy enough to do since their bodies and sometimes their voices sounded similar.

    But he still missed Curt.

    Part 17 – Noah Obsessed with New Video Clips

    Now a full four weeks since Curt moved – Noah would stare almost in a trance for hours and hours at the screen looking for new video postings by “The Stalker”. Other than the first two videos of “Pretty Jock Boy” – the boy who to Noah resembled Curt, there were new ones posted – though the profile on the page said more would soon be uploaded. However several long videos of other straight handsome boys – named “Jake” and “Evan” were posted.

    Without exception, these new videos were long, incredibly intense and extreme showing the boys – in separate videos – tied up in various positions, being edged, milked, tickled, forced to cum and forced to endure horrific post-orgasm torture over and over and over. Noah loved viewing them all – hearing both Jake’s and Evan’s anguished boyish desperate pleas, though he especially loved the videos featuring “Pretty Jock Boy” because of the resemblance to Curt.

    Many of the video clips of Jake and Evan featured them with their faces blurred out or rubber or leather hoods. Sometimes they wore super hero costumes or sports gear. In at least four videos Jake was wearing a Spiderman costume with his dick out and edged and milked unmercifully – and in three others wearing a rubber suit and hooded with his dick out.

    In others, Evan was wearing a cop uniform that fit tightly on his frame, or dressed like a skater, or tied down wearing a soccer outfit – though hooded, always gagged. In each uniform or costume the two boys, both with the muscled eight pack abs and flat stomach, rounded muscled biceps and thighs, always looked extremely sexy and in every one of the long video clips the poor boy was edged and milked without mercy – tickled everywhere, especially his pits, sides – and his feet without let-up – in tortures far, far, far worse than the single earlier “Pretty Jock Boy” video.

    Both boys – in the video descriptions described as straight – would scream and yell, buckle and thrash. Noah was overwhelmed by their apparent unending endurance, not realizing that neither boy nor Pretty Jock Boy had any say whatsoever in what was being done to them. Jake had a particularly lean muscled smooth body, with manly tufts of dark hairs under his armpits and a sexy treasure trail from his innie belly button to his crotch, still framed by a wiry curly pubic bush – which Noah particularly liked. He didn’t like shaved boys or men unless it was done as punishment. And he was doing the shaving.

    The video of Jake started with a 20 minute interview, with an off camera voice asking the boy a series of increasingly invasive, intimate questions about his sexual preferences, what he did sexually to himself and to others. How often did he jack-off and how often did he have sex? Any sex with a guy before? How many girls? What did he smell like after he worked out, particularly his crotch and ass and armpits? How much did he shoot after cumming? What did it taste like (he scowled at that saying he never tried tasting it, because he wasn’t a “faggot”).

    Jake was disgusted and repulsed by the questions. He was defiant, sometimes refusing to answer questions, scowling at the camera, his mouth tightly closed, sometimes muttering “fuck you”. Noah, watching the video clip, noticed that the camera seemed to stop and then restart, several times whenever Jake got too defiant. Whatever was said or done to him when the camera stopped and then re-started, seemed to cure Jake of any further reluctance to answer questions. Noah noticed markings – pinch marks and maybe belt marks on the boy’s nipples and chest and stomach that weren’t there until the camera re-started.

    Obviously, Noah thought, Jake was persuaded to answer by being belted, whipped and pinched. He thought he heard the boy whisper in a trembling voice just as the video resumed “god…no more tickling…” The thought of the boy being tickled tortured for not answering correctly – and then being forced on camera to give the right answers, excited Noah to no end.

    Jake said in response to one of the questions, that he was straight. He never messed around with guys and never was curious or interested. He said, he once “did it” twice in one night with a girl, but never tried it again. He hesitantly, very embarrassed, answered that he was “real sensitive” “down there” especially on his cockhead and balls. He admitted that he was extremely ticklish, especially his pits and feet. The camera caught the boy looking away from the lens directly, with a far off look that alternated between rage and despair like a trapped predator. Both looks only enhanced Jake’s intense sex appeal, in Noah’s eyes.

    And then the video went black and then opened to a new scene.

    Jake’s ordeal began, with a leather hood, with openings for his eyes, tightly tied and suspended from the ceiling in a large room, face down about 6 feet off the ground. He was at first prepped by two huge hooded guys – one who looked like a dark skinned Polynesian guy, who tickled his feet, edged his dick to hardness- always stopping short of his shooting his load, and pinched and played with his nipples as he yelled his head off and struggled.

    But the worst was yet to come.

    After about 10 minutes, the video then showed a large group of fully dressed masked men – many fat or out of shape with drinks in hand, loudly talking and approaching the helpless dangling Jake, his hood now removed, though his face was blurred in the video.

    The video showed the handsome straight youth reacting fearfully to the sight and sound of the large crowd of boisterous men – all dressed in various types of clothing and all shapes, sizes and ages, as he struggled futilely to somehow get away. One large heavy set guy with a beard, got between Jake’s spread legs and lapped and nibbled between his muscled thighs and loose balls. The hairs on his heavy beard tickled the boy, and the sensations of a hot tongue and nibbling of his inner thigh area between his balls – pulling at his wiry pubic hairs there, caused Jake to struggle and yell.

    “OH SHIT!!!!!!! NOOOOO!!! OH MY GOD!!!!” he yelled as the huge man continued, now swallowing his balls, as others approached and attacked the helpless suspended youth.

    Dozens and dozens of eager fingers, hands, lips, mouths and tongues all attacked the tied up struggling youth his tormentors grunting and growling like animals feasting on a live helpless prey.

    “Oooooh shit nooooooo oh my God shit no pleeease stop oh God oh God OH GOD!!!! SHITTTTT” the tormented tied up boy at first whispered – which the video microphones captured – and then gasped and yelled as fingers, hands, tongues and mouths in a frenzy nibbled, licked, touched, fondled, inhaled every part of his smooth muscled body.

    He clearly also felt growing humiliation and shame – seeing this group of about 20 men, all clothed – looking normal – while he was stark naked, his limp dick and bass fully exposed and vulnerable, tied hanging suspended. They would stiffen – against his will – the boy’s straight boy fuckmeat. And then the fun for them would begin.

    They gathered around him, as if he was the main course of a sumptuous dinner. He was.

    “AAAAAAAH FUUUUCK!!!” the tormented Jake yelled as one of the men without warning swallowed his entire fuck meat in one swallow, keeping his mouth at root of his stalk, causing it to stiffen to steel hardness, inhaling the boy’s pubic hairs, before moving back up the hard meat, to the knob, swirling his tongue and plunging back down, over and over – as others continued to maul and molest every part of the boy.

    The boy gasped and yelled “AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!” His body twisted and struggled furiously.

    They surrounded the helpless struggling boy, and dozens of hands, fingers, tongues, lips and mouths attacked every part of the boy’s vulnerable body. His sweaty loose hanging balls were lapped, tongued and sucked whole. His toes were tickled and sucked, his legs and thighs licked, as fingers dance dup and down his flat stomach, torso, back and sides. Dozens of fingers up and down his muscled back, as fingers and tongues lapped up and down his hard fuck meat, a palm swirling the head of his steel hard cock. No mercy was given though Jake begged and pleaded through his screams. To Noah, watching with glazed eyes the video, it seemed that they loved to hear the straight frat jock boy reedy voice denigrate into animal; like squealing, shrieking, with his sweaty body buckling and struggling. Jake never failed them.

    “OH SHIT NOOOOO!!!!!” he shrieked in terror and hysterical from the unbearable prolonged sensations being inflicted and forced on is writhing tightly restrained body suspended from that ceiling.

    So many hands, fingers, tongues, mouths from now 20 different older type guys – who were wearing hoods, masks or had their faces blurred out. There was a sound of terror and panic in the boy’s voice even as they tried to hide it.

    “OH GOD JESUS NOOOOOO!!!!”

    His squirming curling toes and feet were sucked and tickled as he shrieked and laughed hysterically, one month after another over and over. Hand after hand after hand for the next hour, slick with his pre-cum and lube, cruelly apple polished the spongy knob of his steel hard prick over and over and then rub their palms the head slowly causing excruciating unbearable extremely ticklish-like sensation driving the boy wild and hysterical. Over and over grabbing and swirling palms and hands over his cockhead as he squealed in pure animal like anguish, begging and pleading for them to stop.

    “OOOOH GOD GOD GOD NOOOOOO PLEASEEEEE STOOOOOP OOOOH NOOO!!! OOOH…I CAN’T STAND IT OH GOD NOOOOOOOO I CAN’T TAKE IT OOOOH SHIT NOOOOOO!!!!!!” Jake shrieked his body thrashing this way and that.

    The hands on his thick throbbing fuck meat caused even more unbearable sensations because being suspended his hard teenage straight boy cock pointed down and the large group of men attacking him were all standing with their hands on his dick pulling and stroking it from a different direction then if he was lying flat on his back. The did so without mercy to the squealing boy his sweaty tormented body hanging suspended as he violently tried to escape the fingers, hands, tongues and sucking of his entire muscled straight boy body.

    Noah, watching the video, knew from experience that the different direction (fist with thumb closest to the bottom of his dick – as opposed to the fist with the thumb closest to the knob of a guy’s hard fuck meat) caused for most guys both an electric, toe curling, unbearable sensation and also intense torturous pleasure that was like extreme tickle torture. The struggling youth had that done to him several times before in other videos while he was tied to a chair, tied spread-eagle standing or spread-eagle on a bed or table.

    But the feeling was far, far more intense and unbearable being suspended face down – the crowd of men tormenting him knew from experience that the stroking and rubbing of his dick coming from a different direction and angle – would cause constant unrelentingly excruciating sensations. They loved to intensify the unbearable sensation even more by slowly rubbing his fuck meat downward as his body buckled violently and his shrieks reached a high pitched, though manly sound. They loved seeing the agonized handsome face of their helpless struggling victim, which increased their frenzied lust.

    “AAAAH SHIIITTTTTTTTTT!!!!” the helpless boy yelled as he still struggled furiously to break free in a futile attempt to stop the tormenting.

    The image though was blurred out in the video – but Noah, watching the video, could see the vague outline of his face and hair – not enough to see features – but he could tell by the shape of his head that he was very good-looking – especially from the reactions of his tormentors surrounding his struggling body.

    The muscled youth tried desperately to twist his body, to turn it, but the ropes tightly restrained him allowing no movement except being turned around hanging – with some guys lubed up hand and fingers always grabbing his thick hard jock meat, rubbing the oozing sticky pre-cum drooling from his piss slit in almost a stream.

    Fingers and tongues touched and tickled his sides, his tight heaving stomach, bellybutton, back, ears and – most coveted of all – his armpits as Jake shrieked and begged for them to stop, his body twisting and turning as much as the ropes suspending him would allow. His writhing agonized body, was to his tormentors and viewing audience, like a living sculpture of near perfect male youth that constantly highlighted a different muscle group.

    The attacks on him was relentless and without end. They kept coming, pausing only for a brief few minutes to allow the boy water. His tormentors loved teasing him over and over and over. Noah watching the video couldn’t believe it. He knew from the previous videos tormenting straight boys, that those few short breaks only increased the agony for Jake after they resumed – with greater intensity – their tickling, fingering palming, polishing, tonguing, sucking and fondling of the boy’s body. Fingers were forced into his still virgin clenched asshole and into his mouth.

    Toward the end of the video, Hitachi wand vibrators – several of them, including two with sheath attachments, were brought out for the men to use on Jake’s sweaty heavy balls, the area under the balls toward his asshole and most of all, his dick. The screams and shrieks from Jake only fueled the overpowering lust of the group of men grabbing at his body. Jake was forced to cum two more times during the video – the last time was particularly torturous for him, with the wand attachment put on his ultra-sensitive knob as it vibrated it driving the boy almost senseless.

    His screams became high pitched as his suspended body thrashed so violently that Noah, watching the video, thought he would somehow break the restraints from the ceiling and come crashing down, perhaps killing him. But the restraints held and the wand vibrating attachment kept up its relentless attack on the Jake’s ultra-ticklish sensitive cockhead drenched with his spooge that he just shot. He shrieked even louder, babbling words that were unintelligible but clearly begging them to stop. They never did to Noah’s amazement and joy who couldn’t believe how hot this and the “Pretty Jock Boy” videos were. They stopped. Jake entire body heaved in relief, shaking as he tried desperately to control his breathing. He was panting uncontrollably, his body bathed in his pungent boy sweat. For three minutes.

    And then Jake eyes widened in shock when he heard a voice shout out “NEXT!!!!” as a new group of 20 dressed men of all shapes and sizes and ages came in.

    It was their turn to torment the boy.

    “OH JESUS OH GOD OOOOO NOOOOO!!!!!” the handsome tied up slave boy cried out in sheer anguish and torment as he struggled anew seeing a fresh group of new tormentors approach him.

    He screamed “NOOO!!!” as they surrounded him dozens of hands, fingers, tongues and mouths in another endless round of sheer unbearable torments.

    “OOOH NOOO FUCK NOOOOO SHIT SHIT MY DICK STOP OOOOOOH” he shrieked as yet another group of 20 men ignored his pleadings, threats and cursing and continued polishing and milking his semi-hard fuck meat, tickling his balls, sucking on his toes, tickling his sides and soles of his feel, and mouths sucking the hairs and skin of his sensitive armpits, while fingers pinched his nipples, pulling them, fingers probed his ears, mouth and navel.

    To Noah watching the video, he could see the tormented handsome youth felt once again looking and sounding like he was going insane – but for the screaming Jake, this insanity would not stop. After two hours, yet another group of 20 men entered the steamy pungent room, smelling of the boy’s sweat, musky crotch odors and cum.

    An hour passed – and he could hear one of the men yell “NEXT!!!” to yet another group of 20 men eager to feast on his tormented body. The boy trembled, wept and yelled he would kill them all when he got loose. They merely laughed, and devoured his body with their hot tongues, fingers, hands, as he shrieked from the sensations. The endless cock polishing, edging, milking, post orgasm torments, tickle torture of his entire writhing body and feet over and over and over.

    Though video ended right after that, a black screen with a notation at the end said that Jake endured three more groups of 20 men – for another 4 hours, while the words faded, an audio of a sheer high pitched agonized almost blood curdling scream, squealing and shrieking of the boy was heard as the screen pitched to black.

    A few moments later it segued into a different scene with a caption that said that Jake had to choose which group of men that abused him earlier while his helpless body hung from the ceiling, would be the “winners” who got to fuck his virgin ass. He was told he either picked which group OR more groups of 20 men would continue to cock polish, milk, edge and torment his sore straight boy cock with post orgasm stroking and tickle torture his helpless body. The tickle torture alone was driving the boy insane. Noah could tell from watching the video that the boy was almost hysterical from the non-stop abuse, and babbled at first, begging them to stop, while cursing them.

    “I’m not gay…please…no….I….can’t…please no more,: he whispered almost to his tormentors in the video. Someone in response, started to polish his cock head while another began to resume tickling both the soles of his squirming feet as Jake grimaced and then shrieked. He clearly couldn’t take any more of that.

    “ALL RIGHT!!! SHIT!!! FUCK!!! OH GOD…OH GOD….I DON’T FUCKIN CARE..THHHHEEE GRROOUP AHAHAHAHHHAA STTTOOOP!!! …FUCK YOU ALL!!!” he yelled in rage and frustration, crying in humiliation and frustration.

    “Which group Jake? You didn’t tell us,” his tormentor almost purred in a voice to Noah that sounded like fake empathy.

    They continued tickle torturing his feet and cock polishing his hard dick as he shrieked.

    “SHIT STTOOOP OKAY OKAY OKAY…FUCK..GROUPPP…ONE….OOOH SHIT STOOOOPPPP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAH AAAHHH!!!” the boy shrieked, barely able to get the words out.

    Noah watched and couldn’t believe the intensity of the video and what this handsome straight boy was enduring. If it was acting – and Noah didn’t really care at this point – it was extremely well done and seemed real. That was good enough for Noah, as it further fueled his own dream fantasies.

    The group of hooded men simply laughed and then the scene faded to black and within seconds segued into Jake now tied bent over a cushioned table, his muscled arms stretched out and chained, while his legs were spread – but not stretched – with chains secured tight to hooks in the cemented floor. They told Jake that they didn’t want his legs too spread out – because they wanted his asshole to be tight for his entire rape. A huge video screen was just a few feet from Jake’s head that showed the view of his body from the side and from behind – views that Noah realized would fully show each dick, each man lined up, who would rape his ass.

    The video cam showed Jake’s dick and balls fully exposed at the edge of the fuck table – as his tormentors called it – and from the Viagra, still steel hard.

    Electro pads were attached on the boy’s throbbing fuck meat – two near the head and a strap around the base of his fuck meat, and another around his balls.

    Jake yelled “AAAAAH” when the controller was turned on, sending electrical current to the pads and straps that Noah could see was forcing the boy’s cock to flex even harder and causing his ball sack to bulge out at different intervals.

    Noah realized watching that the electro tormenting would cause Jake’s already tight ass to constrict at those intervals. To Noah it was pure genius – forcing the boy to see his own rape on the video screen and then to force his ass to tighten over and over as his dick was electro tortured further.

    “Oh god…no…no….” he could hear Jake whisper – but the video picked up even the quietest sound from the boy.

    Jake, forced to watch the video screen in front of him, could see the huge dick poised at his ass crack – and the line of men ready to rape him after that. Twenty men. All hooded, all clothed except with their dicks out. One after another. Noah watched intently, loving the sound of Jake’s voice seconds before his rape. For several minutes they toyed with the helpless straight youth, getting behind him and acting like they were going to thrust a huge dick and break and maybe even bloody his asshole.

    “GET READY BOY!!!” one would yell and the pretend to plunge dick forward, instead only rubbing against his tight clenched asshole as Jake’s face grimaced and winched thinking it was penetrating.

    They laughed. More minutes passed. The taunting grow louder, as the tension mounted causing jake even more torment.  The waiting, knowing it would happen any second. They forced him to look at what appeared to be the largest dick Noah had ever seen – an enormous flag pole stiff prick with an immense length and girth.  Jake stared at the huge appendage in terror, the video showing a closeup of his face, his eyes wide showing panic, his mouth open,  the boy clearly trying to control himself and not scream in panic.

    The huge enormous stiff fuck meat disappeared from Jake’s sight and from the video screen, as the boy’s body involuntarily trembled.  Then without warning a large huge hulking guy who looked, to Noah’s eyes, like the same Polynesian huge guy that tormented Jake in an earlier video, took his place behind the boy, claiming the prized spot to be the first to break the boy’s cherry. He bent his body over the boy’s sweaty muscled back and nibbled hard Jake’s left ear lobe and the back of his neck, causing Jake to shout and yell in rage.

    “Oh God no….” Jake whispered, though the video caught it all.  

    As Jake struggled even more, the huge man pulled himself up, placing his large hands on Jake’s back shoulder blades, and then pushed  his enormous hard dick slowly into the boy’s tightly clenched asshole.

    Sounding to Noah watching the video, like a frenzied pack of wild dogs feasting on their prey, someone yelled “Fuck Yeah Jake!! Take it!!! Take it!!! Fourteen fuckin inches man! Take it bitch!!!!”

    Jake’s head, his hair damp from his sweat, arched backward, his eyes wide with shock of a huge dick now pushing slowly into his virgin hole setting off every pain receptor in his tight hole as the electro torture of his dick and balls caused his asshole to clench the invading huge rod. His mouth opened wide, no sound coming out in an anguished silent scream for several seconds, his eyes wide and filled with tears. The huge man behind him pressed his enormous hard dick further into his tight ass chute, as Jake gasped like a speared fish for air and then shrieked in sheer pain as his body now thrashed up and down and sideways from the brutal assault.

    “AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH GAAWD AAAAH NOOOOOO TAKE IT OUT OOOOOHH AAAAAA!!”

    Noah could see that only a few inches were in the boy’s clinging asshole, and then with a single movement, his rapist pulled almost all the way out, as Jake gasped again loudly and cried out not sure if his rapist was done. Noah could tell watching the video the boy was in a panic mode from the pain and humiliation of being punked. But the huge man wasn’t finished. He was just starting. Backing out his throbbing gigantic fuck pole, the size of a child’s arm, to the entrance of Jake’s hole, he kept it there for a second, terrorizing the boy, rubbing the enormous head back and forth and up and down the clenched hole. And then in a single brutal thrust, the huge rapist plunged all of his 14 inches into the boy, his enormous hanging balls now slapping against Jake’s tight ass cheeks. Noah watched the video seeing Jake throwing his head back as if shot from the back his eyes wide with shock, his body taut and then the terrible scream.

    The scream from Jake was shrill and high pitched – higher than Noah heard in Jake’s previous torments. The huge man plunged in and out, clearly loving raping this straight boy – and being the first, as he kept on and on, as the others yelled their encouragement to him or taunted Jake, yelling in his ears to “take it take it take it.”

    He screamed. The electro torture of his dick and balls made it impossible for him to relax his asshole or to get used to huge dick fucking his hole. He shrieked.

    The huge man was done, shooting his hot load into the writhing struggling boy, as he shouted “Fuckin cumming!!!!”

    Noah watched in pure lust, as the huge man withdrew his still hard dick, dripping with his thick cum and streaked with Jake’s straight boy ass juices.

    “OOOH GOD!!! OOOOH GOD TAKE IT OUT OH SHIT OOOOH” the boy gasped his body shaking in agony.

    Noah saw in the video that Jake’s face showed he was horrified that he could feel each blast of the huge man’s hot spooge inside him. Hot sperm shot inside a straight boy’s ass. And then without warning, a second man plunged his hard cock into Jake, as he screamed. Then another, then another, as all 20 hooded men raped the boy. Noah couldn’t believe it, watching the video, as the boy was brutally gang raped.

    An hour later, with his still hard cock tormented by the electro torture, forcing it to flex, they had finished with the last of the 20 fucking Jake hard. The boy still shrieked in agony, as others pulled and twisted his nipples, tickled his armpits or his sides and back. Noah thought the gang rape was over. He could tell watching the video that Jake thought it was over too. Noah saw in the video Jake’s still handsome tear streaked face, his eyes wide in shock, mouth open panting, and his sweaty lean muscled body shaking from the ordeal. The video camera panned down his sweaty muscled back, with countless bite marks on his neck and shoulders and a bright red marks on his back and butt from the hard slaps of countless hands, down to his beautiful bubble butt ass filled inside and smeared with droppings of the hot cum of 20 men who raped him. He moaned still from the electro estim sharp pulses causing his cock and balls to flex over and over.

    But it wasn’t over.

    Then Noah saw in the video, the huge man – the one who looked like the same Pacific Islander who fucked the boy earlier – lined up after the last of the twenty men finished.

    “SECONDS!!!!” he yelled, as he shoved his huge 14 inch cock back into Jake’s tortured asshole, twisting and turning and plunging his immense tool all the way in and out in quick rabbit like thrusts followed by slow tortuous fucking motions, over and over.

    To Noah watching the video, it seemed the huge man’s stamina was even longer than the first time he raped Jake earlier, fucking the boy for nearly 45 minutes as the boy still struggled in agony. Jake’s body was still tormented at the same time by the electro estim pads on his dick and balls, causing his tortured narrow ass chute to clench tight the raping dicks, causing more pain and humiliation, with.

    Jake screamed “NOOOOOOO!!!!! OH GOD NOOOOO STOOOPPP!!!!”

    As each huge man pushed their hard again cocks for a second turn at raping the straight boy, Jake boy screamed and cried as he struggled anew. But there was no escape. The video faded to black, with Jake’s screaming, ended with the caption “Jake’s rape went on for another hour…He was forced to suck and clean off every one of the 20 cocks that raped his ass.”

    The boy at that time whimpered, his hands fisted, and eyes shut, trying to endure and outlast his rapists.

    Noah stared at the screen. He couldn’t believe it. He wished it was Curt. He wanted to do that to Curt. He sniffed the pouch area of Curt’s dirty underwear, and then the area where Curt’s asshole would have been. The pungent aroma of his idol – that Alpha Male – was still strong. He fantasized his face and tongue right there, as Curt’s body was tightly restrained like Jake’s. And then plunging his hard cock into Curt’s virgin tight hole as he cursed, struggled and then screamed.

    He shot his load, though into his own hand, sniffing Curt’s dirty underwear catching a whiff of a strong  sour musky smell in the area where Curt’s balls would have rested tightly against the fabric, and coming back down to earth. It was a fantasy dream. It would never happen. But Noah could dream. And these videos at least made them come to life, even if it wasn’t real either.

    Part 18 – Noah Obsessed with Pretty Jock Boy and Thinking of Curt

    Noah was still obsessed with the single “Pretty Jock Boy” video, watching that over and over every day since it was posted. But he also was obsessed with the many videos of “Jake” and “Evan” posted during the past nearly four weeks since the first one was posted.

    To Noah, the similarities of “Pretty Jock Boy” in the videos to Curt in body build, the shape of his head and even his voice – when it could be heard – were striking. But it was impossibility for Noah to even suspect it was really Curt. He had moved away – in disgust from Noah’s stalking and prying – and was probably fucking his brains out with every lucky girl and slut in his new place with his new job hundreds of miles away. That thought depressed Noah to no end, but he had these video clips that so resembled the body and voice of “Pretty Jock Boy” that it was easy to fantasize it was Curt.

    On the other hand “Jake” and “Evan” seem to resemble other straight boys that Noah desired or wanted – guys with that boy-next-door look who might would attract some attention for those looks, but not turn every head like a guy with male model type looks. Possibly attainable in the right circumstances even for a guy like Noah, as opposed to the Alpha males with bodies and faces to match like Curt’s who were intimidating and out of reach.

    Yes – finally he could watch and enjoy a boy being tormented in the way he wished he could have done to Curt and a few other arrogant straight boys he encountered.

    With the “Pretty Jock Boy” video Noah could watch it while sniffing Curt’s old dirty sour smelling underwear and socks he left behind. Yeah, it was creepy to other people he thought, but Noah never was bothered about what other people thought, since he kept this fetish to himself. At least he did until he dropped that camera on Curt’s muscled stomach that awful day. But having his dirty clothes – his pungent smelling socks, the still strong male sweat scented armpit areas of his t-shirts sometimes masked by sexy deodorant, his boxer shorts and boxer briefs underwear and thoroughly inspecting it for stains and in the underwear pouch many stray curly brown colored pubic hairs of his idol was extremely exciting to Noah that increased his lust for Curt. And besides, Noah knew that everyone had their own secret kinks and fetishes.

    Yeah, he would have preferred his dream fantasy coming true of actually nuzzling his nose into Curt’s thatch of sweaty curly brown pubic hair and balls, and tonguing his sweaty steel hard straight dick while he struggled tied up tight, blindfolded and stretched on a table. And now that he knew Curt was uncut, that dream fantasy also had Noah sniffing and pulling back Curt’s wrinkled straight boy foreskin exposing the fleshy knob wet and drooling with his pre-cum that only females were privy to. But Noah knew, no matter how powerful and overwhelming that dream fantasy was to him, it was a dream that simply was never going to happen even if Curt hadn’t moved out of the area.

    He could go through the thousands of pictures and video clips that he still had that showed the underwear waist bands or t-shirts and socks that were now in his possession. That made the connection – the odor of his idol – even more intense.

    He inhaled the still strong pure straight boy scents of Curt’s dick and balls and butt in his dirty underwear and the smells of his sweaty feet from his dirty socks while he watched the two posted video clips of Pretty Jock Boy and the many videos of “Jake” and “Evan”.

    He re-listened to the audio recordings he had made of Curt fucking those girls and then imagined him as Pretty Jock Boy or even Jake who made similar sounding grunts and noise when having his body played with or being forced to cum.

    Noah loved the videos because Pretty Jock Boy, Jake and Evan – he assumed he was a willing participant – was enduring unending edging, milking, polishing of their knobs, endless electro and other torments on their dicks and balls, endless tickle torture – without any apparent safe words. Maybe there was some signal of his fingers or something – but it sure seemed to Noah that the boy was tormented without any safe words to stop it.

    God, Noah thought, I wish I could be there – wherever they were – to do that to those boys as the next best thing to actually doing that to his idol Curt. Noah posted comments wishing that he could be there to do that in the comment areas for each of the videos. He never got a response.

    In every one of the videos of Jake and Evan posted, Noah could detect the increasing misery coming through, even when their mouths mouth was gagged and there was only muffled yelling, cursing and struggling. Evan especially seemed enraged and yet sounded more tormented. The desperate pleas of Jake and Evan didn’t sound like Curt – but it was that boyish reedy straight street boy sound that Noah loved. Just the thought always made Noah’s dick flex even harder. He knew it was impossible – but just to know that there was a boy – that seemed to resemble Curt – and increasingly sounded more and more like him – made Noah now obsessed with Pretty Jock Boy’s one video.

    There were videos of the Jake and Evan in every type of torment it seemed – 10 of those were just nearly hour long edited edging videos – not torture – but keeping them on the edge of shooting – stroking and kneading and sucking his dick and knob to the point and almost over – the brink of shooting his load. Hours – and never allowed to cum – leaving him frustrated, angry and in rage.

    Noah loved that especially. He loved hearing Jake and Evan’s moaning, gasping, seeing their pelvis’ thrust out involuntarily – and seeing and hearing them whimper like little boys each time they were denied a release to shoot their loads after being edged through various means including Venus pump, electro and by hand – and then the ultimate cock torture of endless stroking, rubbing and polishing of his knob. Only after enduring that endless edging were they finally allowed to shoot their loads. The post orgasm torments done to both boys was so intense, prolonged and unrelenting it was sometimes even hard for Noah to watch and not flinch.

    There were 6 other videos of more than 1 to 2 hours each showing the two boys (separately) enduring unbelievable tickle torture of their entire body, or just their feet, or armpits and sides and stomach. The screams and shrieks and begging were priceless. No safe word, no friendly gesture that they would stop, or interviews of either boy before and after the shoot.

    The videos from the site became a fix Noah had to have each day – especially with Curt gone. Rushing home from work now – as he did when Curt lived downstairs below – Noah would instead come home to get to his computer in his spare room to check on the latest new postings on that extreme gay bdsm video clip site. His heart was beating rapidly – as it always did when he checked for new videos of Pretty Jock Boy – but there were none. Only that single video, still the one that obsessed him the most. But his eyes widened with glee seeing that there were not one but two new videos of Evan – and a new boy named “Zak” both an incredible 90 minutes long!!!

    The first new video description that Noah read was “Zak”, a handsome muscled slightly hairy young man, tied spread eagle and tormented for three agonizing hours by according to the video description, by the world’s foremost edger and milker – known as “The Cock Master”. The video captured the highlights and the last 30 minutes of the ordeal. The second new video, Noah read, featured Evan, tied tightly on a bed, face up, legs tied back, and fucked repeatedly by a group of hooded hulking men.

    He was beside himself – and was at first too excited to decide which video to watch first. He calmed down and decided to watch the two videos in order they were posted. The video featuring Evan getting fucked – that would be hot. He decided to watch the “Zak” video first because he was a new boy.

    The video description mentioned the straight athlete would be subjected to intense edging and electro torture by “The Cock Master”. Noah heard several times the distinct shriek and wailing of the tormented youth “oooh god god stop oh god!!!”

    He couldn’t believe how intense and extreme the video clip. His body looked fresh, young, and muscled. He fought back and struggled wildly – though like the other boys, it was a hopeless.

    “DON’T FUCKIN TOUCH ME!!!! GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME FAGGOT!!!! SHIT!!! NOOOOO WAAAAY FUCK!!!!” the young handsome muscled boy yelled, his body buckling like a trapped animal. But it was futile – like it was for all the previous boys Noah had watched on the previous videos. But the struggling and yelling simply seemed to heighten the lust of his tormentors – and for Noah watching it.

    The screams and shrieks and begging by Zak were priceless. The edging and cock polishing of this straight boy went on and on and on as he tried to withstand it – but that defiance was broken in seconds as the “Cock Master” and others used their hands and fingers, Hitachi wand and attachments and other tools to break the boy down. The 26 year old twisted his body in a futile attempt to break away. Never before had this youth – or any of their captives – experienced cock polishing, edging or the post orgasm torment inflicted on him.

    Noah watched the video with growing excitement as he saw the masterful hands glided from the base of Zak’s quivering hard manhood as the boy squirmed and struggled, and then moaned in the pleasuring. But the moans of unwanted pleasuring turned to silence as the hands continued up the top of the shaft to the ridge of his knob, cruelly gliding over that setting off electric sensations and even more as the palm like a serpent rubbed over the cockhead and down the other side. The boy was trying not to react in a vain effort to ward off the hand and praying it wouldn’t proceed. In this video clip, the palm of the hand always did, cruelly rubbing the shaft and gliding and polishing Zak’s cockhead causing electric unbearable sensations that he was not able to withstand. The boy exploded into shrieks and wild struggling to break free, causing his hard dick to wave back and forth as his tormentor merely had someone hold the base as he continued with the torturous palming over and over and over. The squealing and shrieks grew more loudly as the man did not let up.   A caption on the screen below noted that “never in his young life ever had Zak’s straight boy cock been subjected to cock polishing – something he had no experience with, nor any other cock abuse. He never experienced before prolonged attention of his fuck meat. Until now. The cock polishing and edging continued for several more hours….”

    The video with Zak was like all the other videos – with a boy restrained – and ended that way, with only the type of agonizing torments varying on the boy. What never varied was the prolonged intensity of the torments inflicted on the boy. Or how handsome and sexy each boy was. Oh how Noah loved that.

    Noah closed his eyes and leaned back in his swivel chair remembering Curt several weeks earlier – as he left his apartment walking to his car, bending over, exposing for a second his tanned back skin and the waist band of his boxer briefs, putting his backpack and bag in his back seat and driving off. It was the last time Noah saw him. He missed him terribly after that and sat in his apartment after work broken hearted and lost.

    Seeing the videos always made Noah think vividly about Curt, rekindling a small part of his never-ending obsession for that boy. He worshipped everything about Curt – his smile, his arrogance, his Alpha Male dominance over girls and guys, his beautiful body and scent.

    He got up from his swivel chair and went to the chest of drawers, pulling open the bottom one, and taking out a large sealed plastic bag. He went back to his computer, sitting down and placing the bag on his lap, opening it, and gingerly took out one of the five pieces of clothing. It was all dirty underwear that once belonged to Curt that was in his clothes hamper among the many personal items and possessions he left behind in his apartment when he drove away to his new job and never returned. It almost had a narcotic effect on Noah fueling further his addiction to Curt.

    Noah examined the pungent dirty grey boxer briefs that Curt had worn either the day before he left or at least sometime during that same week. It still retained the fresh musky scent of his balls and dick – and the strong intense odors of the seat that touched where his asshole was. He never tired of sniffing Curt’s dirty underwear and clothes. It smelled like Curt to Noah – the fresh sweat smell of a sexy stud.

    Thinking about the Pretty Jock Boy video – and the Jake, Evan and now Zak videos – he remembered how much he still missed Curt, as he sniffed Curt’s dirty grey boxer briefs holding it close to his nose and inhaling deeply the intimate pungent scents of the boy.

    He wondered where Curt was and who he was fucking now. Ah, Noah, thought, I still wouldn’t mind just hearing him fuck some girl again. That would be enough. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

    Suddenly there was a noise behind him.

    Startled, but too late to react, a damp cloth and hand firmly swiftly covered Noah’s nose and mouth. He was out in seconds.

    To be continued (very soon – before June 2023!)


    AUTHOR’S NOTE: Please be sure to rate this story and if possible comment! Comments and ratings (good ones of course!) always help writers to continue on.  Thanks again to all those who rated this and other stories (not just mine) and for comments. Concluding chapters will be posted soon! Suggestions welcome!   – Eric Lane   [email protected]

  • Couples Assist Facility

    I was visiting my favorite city and after a hard day of travel I wanted to spend a night at a very different playground. All I knew was that an adult website had said it was great fun. I had the address and got there early on a Monday evening; it wasn’t long before I realized that this was certainly a different kind of place. The parking lot was divided between rows for up to an hour that were free and rows for one to six hours at $5 an hour. I thought it very strange but what the hell and went in to get a long term ticket.

    The big red brick warehouse loomed large at the end of the lot with the only sign reading “entrances” in the plural. Once inside I encountered a line leading to two different counters. On the left the large counter sign read simply “cocks” while the one on the right read “cocksuckers.”

    Geez, this was embarrassing, I had to openly acknowledge what I was and wanted just by standing in one or the other line. I was sure that I was blushing, bright red as I shuffled forward to the counter.

    “You know you’re in the cocksucker line don’t you” he asked looking directly at me? I mumbled a yes as he told me to speak up. I was fast becoming more and more embarrassed. “What do you want, just the cocksucker room or the works, the room is $40 and the works runs $65?”

    By now I was reduced to a stammer that the rude attendant took as assent to the works asking me for the $65. I needed to get away from this smirking, in your face young guy and pushed the money under the window. The door clicked and I started towards it just as he shouted, “stop, put this wrist band on” and he pushed a bright pink wide, rubber band to me. I was actually trembling as I locked it on to the chorus of smirks from the rest of the guys in line laughing at the new guy.

    I was finally inside a large, dimly lit room seemingly full of guys. I couldn’t make out anything until my eyes adjusted so I just stood there until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

    A guy about forty said, “I see your new here, I’ll show you around. You’ve already gotten through the tough part at the dual entrance. Believe it or not that embarrassing, challenging system kinda frees you up to admit what you are and once you’re through it just enjoy yourself.”

    He was right, my heartbeat was finally returning to normal.

    “It’s really a kinda service station for guys who want their cocks sucked; the guys in the cock line only pay $5 so there is always a pretty large bunch wanting a quick, cheap blowjob away from the wife. The superior “cock” guys can just walk up to a hole and get their cock sucked. Unlike the usual small glory hole you see at peep-shows these openings in the wall are huge, large enough for you to stick your entire head thru and lick his balls while he pats your head. The thing is that this is a place without games; guys who want to get sucked off don’t have to romance a

    cocksucker. There’s no need for flowers, jewelry or a candlelit dinner; here it’s just take your Wang out and pick the hot mouth you want to fill with cum.”

    He continued, “At the holes over there you’re standing up while he stands on the elevated side with his crotch at your mouth level. The elevation changes over here so you have to be on your knees; I personally think a cocksucker should always kneel in respect before a man but it’ll be your choice.”

    I could see a little better now and boy it was busy with only a few holes empty of cock with the suck boys happily slurping away. The wet swishy noise of cocks being serviced actually filled the room. Until you’re an observer you don’t realize just how noisy cocksucking is; the wet slosh of dripping saliva along with the occasional ughh as the server choked permeated the room and was very hot. It was only Monday and look how busy they were; they certainly had a good business.

    “I see you’ve got a pink, works band that allows you to serve in all of the rooms. I want to get back to my hole but you should know that that corridor on the right will lead you to an area where there are men who need their ass sucked along with a lot of piss play. The lockers are over there, I’ve got to go, it looks like a very busy night and I’m horny as hell. From six to ten is when it’s busiest as the married guys sneak away for service then, have fun.”

    I quickly stripped to my jockey shorts noting that this seemed to be the uniform of the day and locked up the locker. I wandered over to the wall of glory holes just as a guy was pulling his cock out of his pants. I stuck my head through and he stuffed his cock into my mouth. It was only about five inches but had a big, thick cock head. I began a nice, slow suck, easily able to swallow his cock to the balls. I was at it a while when I sensed him tensing. He grabbed my head and held me rigid as he spurted cum into my mouth. That old, familiar taste, salty, sticky and thick warmed my mouth as I swallowed his cum-load, I was rewarded with a gentle pat on the cheek as he commented, “Good boy, good faggot.” I was kinda proud; this was my kind of place.

    I went over to the kneeling room, it was set up different. The guys entering on the “cock” side would just sit down in one of the lounge chairs all in a row and pull down their pants spreading their legs. The

    cocksuckers just knelt and waited in front of a chair. It was very well thought out with a heavily padded floor for the cocksuckers comfort. This really appealed to me as I have always thought that the most submissive place for a cocksucker was on his knees before a superior cock and ready to serve; it is after all a measure of respect. I found out later that there was a lot of competition and on really busy nights, the most talented cocksuckers often had a line of guys waiting for service. I thought to myself that this really was a magical place where a talented cocksucker that was good at cock worship was a valued commodity.

    I knelt before a guy in his forties, bald with a little paunch but a very nice thick cock about six inches long. As I leaned into the hole to mouth his cock he grabbed my mouth sticking his fingers in it and pulling me towards him. “Suck it boy, I want a nice blow job with a lot of tongue on my balls. When I cum I want you to slow it down and just let it flow into your mouth. After I’m done you swallow my jism and lick me clean. If you do a good job I’ll fill your faggot mouth with nice, warm ball juice.” He then pushed his cock into my eager, waiting mouth.

    He was a very involved guy using his hands to direct my tongue to his ball sack then lightly slapping my cheek when he wanted my mouth on his cock. There is nothing quite like a man who is experienced with how to wring the maximum pleasure out of his cocksucker. It was a while but finally he told me to look at his eyes. As soon as we made eye contact he started to cum, my second load of the night. Just as he had instructed I swallowed in one gulp and began licking his crotch clean. As I was slurping around another guy came up to him and said, “Hey, Jim, how’s the service?”

    “Not too bad Mike, how did you do?”

    Jim’s buddy Mike said, “Just Ok Jim, he was a very new cocksucker and needed a little adjustment to keep his concentration on my cock. A few slaps and he forgot everything but my cock filling his mouth. I actually think he was surprised when I filled his mouth with my jism. I confess it was kinda fun breaking him in.

    “I finally had my man Jim’s crotch as clean as if he stepped out of a shower. Another pat on my head and he left me.

    I had to admit that “Jim’s” forceful style appealed to me as I decided to explore a little farther down the dark corridor; I was now glad that I had purchased the “works.”

    The first room was the toilet room and boy was I surprised by how it was set up. There was a full wall with four short comfortable, padded stools arranged in front of holes in the wall just large enough for a man’s head to go through. Three of the stools had cocksuckers on them with their heads into the holes. Of course I sat down, stuck my head through the wall and found I was looking at a large mirrored wall opposite me.

    Yikes, I found my head was now in a white vinyl urinal fastened on the walls other side; a guy taking a piss would be using my mouth as a living urinal, a pisspot. I could see there were guys at two of the other urinals peeing into their cocksucker’s mouth. In the other empty stall the cocksucker had his mouth open and his tongue out as a guy walked in and sauntered over. I watched as the man casually laid his cock on the faggots eager tongue and took a piss.

    I sensed someone coming to my urinal; I thought quickly of getting the hell out of there but decided that I was committed and didn’t want to

    disappoint. He fished out a soft, cut cock of about 3 inches, soft then simply laid it on my tongue and pulled back saying “I’ve never done this before, am I supposed to just start to full out pee or go slowly in short spurts” he asked me.

    I looked at him and told him I was also new and would be very relieved if he just spurted a little so I could get used to it. It was really kind of surreal; we were talking like buddies discussing what beer we liked yet we both were very aware that I was soon going to be drinking his piss, surreal indeed.

    He put his cockhead onto my tongue and almost instantly let out a short spurt of piss. It wasn’t really unpleasant, just a very different taste, kind of a warm, salty mountain-dew laced with just a touch of white vinegar. In any event the shear humiliation of being a man’s urinal got me so hot that I was in a kind of trance. He spurted more piss but then became hard and the piss stopped. I suckled on the head of his prick and he very quickly dropped his cumload into my warm, pissy mouth. He had to be even newer at this than I was to actually cum this easily. When I got up there was a long line-up of suck boys waiting for my stool; I wasn’t the only one who thought the toilet room was the most erotic scene of all.

    In the other corner of the “toilet room” in a large, glass enclosed shower stall there were three guys being showered by their “boys” who were busily cleaning them with thick foaming body wash. The guys just stood there talking while their pink bracelet helpers scrubbed and fondled. It was obvious from the hard cocks that the men and their fag-servants were enjoying this. Just outside of the shower another “boy” toweled off his Man. Everyone sported a huge smile; this man-centric, Guy-Spa style pampering was certainly as popular as it was incredibly hot.

    I went back to the “kneeling room” and waited in front of a lounge. In a few minutes there were two guys there, the older dropped his pants, sat down and spread his legs. I started to move in but he held my head and told me what he very specifically wanted.

    “This is my son and I want to show him how to use and enjoy a cocksucker. You’ll blow me first so he can see how it goes then you’ll service him. Actually I think we’ll take you into the around the world room for his first suck, Ok boy?” I nodded yes and he pulled me into his hairy crotch.

    I licked and sucked as he lightly slapped me directing my efforts to what pleased him. I could hear him telling the boy that some guys were just cocksuckers that you could use like girls to suck you off and lick your ass. He began a face fucking by grabbing my head and telling me to keep my hands behind my back while he pulled my head in and out going deeper each time until he punched through into my throat. He put his hand on my Adam’s apple to feel my throat accommodating his prick as it punched through into my gullet. I looked up and could see that his son was mesmerized by it all.

    “You see Son, you keep slowly going forward a little at a time until your all in. the cocksucker will gag and choke but that’s all right; it’s what they were born to do and it feels great on your cock; it’s just part of the service.”

    On that note the Dad came in my mouth just as I was gasping around the cock buried in my gullet. Some of his cum filled my mouth but as I gasped for air a lot of it went up my nose. I coughed and actually was tearing up as I tried to catch my breath but in a very strange way I was pleased with myself. I was happy servicing the guy who was showing his son the ropes.

    I heard him explaining, “Look at his face son, this is a win-win thing. Sissy’s like him get off on this kind of treatment.” As my breath came back to normal I agreed with him by leaning forward and licking his cockhead clean. “See Son, just what I told you.”

    I followed them into the “ass” room; it was to be a first for both of us. There were quite a few stirrup like lounge chairs with little wells sunk in the front of them so the cocksucker could actually get in and stand up as he licked his man’s crotch from asshole to balls. I had to admire the great ingenuity the owners of this place had used in the design. By making it very comfortable they insured that the ass licker could lap a guy’s crack for long periods of time, quite ingenious really.

    “Strip down Son, I’ll show you the ropes. Ah, that’s good, you can lay down in the lounge but I prefer to show my cocksucker just what his place is at right at the start. Just turn around and I’ll have the faggot take care of you in the classic way to start.” The boy turned and as ordered by his Dad I knelt in back of him and gently licked his pale-pink ass globes before I spread his cheeks and began to lick up and down his ass-crack.

    It really wasn’t an effective way to service a man’s ass because no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t get your tongue all the way in but it did furnish maximum humiliation. Both of us were quickly hotter than hell, the boy being serviced and me with the erotic shame of it all just washing over me.

    When he moved to the lounge chair his legs were spread as wide as possible and my tongue traveled from cock to asshole as my saliva flowed

    out of my open mouth. My tongue and nose experienced the musky, sweaty taste of young balls and ass. The young subject of my service soon grabbed my head and forced his cock into my mouth just as his cum erupted from his cockhead. I gulped it down, licked him clean then thanked them both for letting me service them.

    I was exhausted but certain to return to the “Fun-Housen” and head to the cocksucker’s side for sure. I now knew what I had long suspected; there was nothing in my life that would ever equal the sheer joy that servicing a strong, confident man could bring. This was my role and this place was made for me.

    Chapter 2

    I think anyone interested in reading this story realizes that I would return many times to the “service station”. It was just so incredibly erotic. About 2 or three times a week I would go there, stand in the cocksucker’s line and service cock. It was great to pretty much always have a lingering taste of cum in your mouth or at least in your thoughts.

    On that fateful day I had just entered when one of the staff approached me at the lockers. “Mr. Smith, the boss wants to see you.”

    I was horny as hell but went with him through the front door and down another hallway; I did notice that the “cock” line at the entrance was filling up. We went into what looked like a reception room and I just followed him into a very large plush office that looked just like a partner’s suite in a major law office. The rug was thick and the same maroon color as the drapes. One wall was completely filled with walnut book cases and there was a black leather couch and chair in front of a huge wooden desk.

    The man who I assumed was the “boss” came out from behind the desk and shook my hand while dismissing his employee with a wave of the hand as he sat down on the leather chair opposite me.

    He began talking as soon as I had sat down. “My name is Mark and I’m glad to see you Mr. Smith; I had your membership flagged so I could get you here to talk. I can guess that you might be a bit confused about all this but let me assure you it’ll all work out to the advantage of both of us. What happened to trigger your being here is that you dropped one of your business cards on your last visit; I see you’re a Business Planning and Development expert besides being one of my customers and I’m in need of some Planning and development here.”

    “I’m a businessman who purchased this place from an estate a couple of years ago. I initially only wanted this big warehouse but was pleasantly surprised at the cash flow of the existing sex club located in it. After going through the “Cock” line a few times myself I realized just what a great business this could be. There’s real money in connecting straight guys with cocksuckers. That being said this business only fills a small part of this building and I’m interested in building the business and increasing the revenue, my problem is that I’m straight and ideally this places expansion should be planned thru a faggot’s eye. It seems that inadvertently I’ve blundered into a nice opportunity. The majority of gay clubs like bath-houses attract gay guys almost exclusively. The format here attracts as many straight guys as gays. That really works, the alpha straight guys get there cocks serviced in a setting where they are in control and the gay guys get access to all the alpha cock they want, a win-win all the way and a nice little business,” He said.

    Even though I was very horny I was fascinated by his matter-of-fact analysis as he continued. “I’m straight and while I very much enjoy a cocksucker mouthing my prick, I just can’t get my head around what you guys want and why you want it; what the hell do you guys get out of it. I do understand that the key to this business is to always have a cocksucker available for a straight guys cock, that way no customer is ever disappointed. You’re the perfect consultant; you come here to suck cock yourself and have a great business background. What I want to do is grow the business on this site so I can utilize more of the space and generate a greater income. I’m prepared to offer you a 15% piece of the business at the end of a ninety day probation period; for the probation I’ll pay you the fee listed on your website, $2000 a week plus expenses. Are you in,” he asked?

    “Yeah, I’m in, it sounds like it could be fun,” I answered a little too quickly.

    “Now that were partners let’s get right on a first name basis, I’m Mark and I know your name is John, lets shake on it eh.”

    We shook hands and he lightly squeezed my hand with a big smile. I took this time to access my new partner, about forty, average height, thin brown hair and just a little paunch. There was no doubt he was a businessman but he was certainly friendly.

    He was still tightly holding my hand as he talked. “We can really seal our little bargain with a blow job, John. It’ll save both of us some time. You were in the cocksucker’s line anyway.”

    I nodded my agreement as Mark dropped his pants and sat down in his big “boss” chair spreading his legs nice and wide. I knew that you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure but I had been thinking about cock all day. I slipped onto my knees and shuffled forward to his crotch. My mind wasn’t on our business deal as I sucked his cockhead into my mouth running the tip of my tongue into his piss-slit before beginning a slow, intense suck.

    His cock was average at a little over five inches with a big cut head; it fit quite nicely into my mouth but without that wonderful, erotic worry of choking on a huge cock; Mark’s was simply comfortable. After about five minutes of sucking him off I felt the familiar throbbing of the big cock vein on the side as he tensed up, ready to cum. He sighed and began spurting his warm, sticky cum into my mouth. The salty, sticky issue tasted great, our deal was now sealed for sure, sealed in cum.

     I got right into my new task the next day. I was now familiar with the “service station” and only had to sit quietly stroking my cock as I reviewed my experiences and considered the improvements that might entice more cocksucker business. As always when running ideas in my head I had a pad to jot down the bullet thoughts down, in effect a business plan outline.

    —Enhanced water sports and toilet room.

    —An upscale blow job fantasy room that would play to the faggot’s need for humiliation and the alpha-man’s dominant nature.

    —Have a cocksucker rating system with a written skill list that the clients could peruse before picking out their cocksucker. This would of course reinforce the fags need for submission.

    —A full service man’s spa where your personal cocksucker could wash, pamper and service you as a good cockslave should.

    —A set of suites where a guy could bring his wife or girlfriend and fuck. A cocksucker would be there to keep the man’s cock hard and lick the cum out of her cunt.

    —A “cocksucker academy” where the sub guys could hone their skill-set with the properly assertive trainer / coaches. This “cocksucker academy” would of course issue grades.

    Now that I had an outline I could think it through and present it to Mark as a series of stand-alone business plans before building cash flow numbers for each of the proposed “small business units.”

    I handed the rough, typewritten business plan to Mark the next day.

    The “Enhanced Water sport and toilet room” PLAN:

    This room would build on what we already have with the full-face urinals. Right now the cocksuckers wait in the room with their face in the urinal. I propose that we add toilet boxes where a cocksucker could lie down under a toilet seat to simply rim and lick a man’s asshole; it would be a very erotic scene for everyone involved.

    Yet another change I would make there would be to let the men pick out their cocksucker for the toilet room. I kinda visualize a little lineup of ass lickers and piss boys where a guy could interview them before they serviced him. Questions like, “are you ready to drink my piss right from the spigot fag” would greatly foster the inherent submission that faggots seek and the alpha-males would feel like Gods.

    The superior man would be encouraged to look closely at the cocksuckers tongue length and ask direct questions about how his prospective cocksucker would manage to swill down his piss. It might work to have the cocksucker kneel behind the man and gently spread his cheeks to run his tongue up and down his ass crack. This audition would be a demonstration of his boy’s skill before being picked to lie in the rim seat. The beauty of this interview thing is the supreme humiliation that the cocksucker would feel.

    The same thing would hold for the piss suckers, an interview where they would have to admit that they wanted to have a man piss in their mouth would have both parties hotter than hell. The cocksucker would revel in the humiliation of admitting what an ass or piss slut he was while the “cock” would feel completely in control of “his” cocksucker and how he wanted to be serviced.

    It would be an immediate hit with both groups. Very few things are more exciting and humiliating than having to talk about your fantasies, actually verbalize what perverted thoughts float through your mind on a regular basis. Inner secrets are powerfully erotic.

    “I tell you Mark, we’ll have customers returning as much for the humiliation as for what used to be their secret sex thoughts being performed.”

    “An upscale blow job fantasy room:”

    “Here’s the rough outline of this plan Mark, sorry about the typos but it’s only an “idea” outline at this point” it still needs work.

    Our blow job room is wildly popular with the alpha-men (the cocks) and of course the cocksuckers. My plan would build on this and offer an enhancement to what we have. If a guy is getting an exemplary blow job he can offer his suck-boy a chit which allows the fag into a special room where he can perform a nice, slow worshipful suckoff in great comfort. Of course the chit will be only available at an additional cost to the man being serviced. To be recognized as really good as a cocksucker in front of your peers would be so much better than just a pat on the head.

    Inside of this “special” room there would be nice, comfy chairs with padded areas right in front of them. Of course the cocksucker would already be naked and there would be lockers for the alpha-man’s clothes. It would be customary for the cocksucker to perform the ritual undressing of his man. Just picture in your mind when the cocksucker finds himself kneeling before his man and finally gets to take off his man’s undershorts and socks. The lights would be dim but the cocksucker would be very aware of his man watching him as he debased himself.

    There would be a recording playing on the loudspeakers over and over on a loop; a deep, sexy male voice repeating over and over the same erotic message.

    “You’re a cocksucker. You live to service the pricks of men needing to be serviced. As you slowly strip your man take a good look at his hairy balls, they will soon be spewing his cum into your mouth. Look at his piss slit and think about running the tip of your tongue through it. This cock will soon be the center of your thoughts. A cocksucker must only think of pleasuring his man’s prick. This cock in front of you is your

    responsibility; you were born to suck cock and submit to superior men. You must lick his balls lovingly until they are as wet as from a shower. In this world there are some guys that are meant to be sucked off and others that are meant to do the sucking. You’re the sissy-boy and must submit as a cocksucker. If you gag on his cock remember that your throat spasms are pleasant stimulation on his cockhead; they signify your devotion to his pleasure; it’s a measure of respect. When he comes in your mouth look at his eyes and show him how grateful you are as your mouth fills and you swirl your tongue around in your cummy-sticky mouth. Good Cocksucker, good boy.” The message then repeated on its loop, over and over in a nice, soft, deeply masculine, commanding voice.

    On his knees facing his alpha-male the cocksucker-boy would be slowly lowering his man’s tidy whites, very close to the cock and balls that he will soon be servicing, his reason for being. Trust me Mark both guys will be hotter than hell by this time and when the guy sits down his cocksucker will be drooling as he settles onto his knees before his man’s crotch.

    There will be other guys in the room being sucked off so there will be a permeating smell of sex that will overlay the room as the men talk about how their service is. The sounds and smells of wet, sloppy cocksuckers will fill the room.

    I think that the suckers picked to perform blow jobs in this room will be the kind that are fully capable of Cumming themselves just by sucking on a cock; that’s the ultimate compliment to a straight man who’s being blown.

    This will be a very popular room; our cocksucker customer base will try awfully hard to be picked to perform as blow-boys in it. The competition to provide the best blow job would be fierce and our clubs “cocksucker Quality” would improve.

    “I agree John; it certainly sounds hot to me; in fact I would enjoy a sample of how this would work, how about it?”

    I was very agreeable; all this talk of cock had me horny. True to my written plan I went to the corner and took off my clothes before I began stripping Mark down. As I knew it would, the eroticism of being on my knees with his cock close enough to smell that familiar, wonderful musky male crotch aroma had both of us hard.

    He sat down and spread his legs wide; I noticed a little smirk on my business partner’s face as I leaned in to blow him. I opened my mouth and saw the fact that he was pleased on his face. He pulled my head in and his cock slid into my mouth, meeting no resistance.

    He said “good cocksucker” as he held my head with both hands and began to pump his powerful cock, way too hot for a slow suck; he just wanted to cum. He was pumping into what was now really his, my mouth. I just knelt there as he used my mouth and in about five minutes he pumped his hot, sticky load of jism into my mouth. True to my business plan for the room, I looked Mark in the eye as I swallowed his cum. The self satisfied smirk was back on his face as I swallowed his warm, cummy liquid. We were really partners now; I felt like just another cocksucker owned by a man’s cock.

    “A set of suites where a guy could bring his wife or girlfriend for an assisted fuck:”

    “Well Mark here’s how I went about planning for the couple’s spa room. I felt that this setup would be very profitable for the service station but I was flummoxed as to how to design it; I am after all a faggot cocksucker with almost no experience with females and I needed some research. It came to me the next day; I had a college friend that was my roommate for a couple of years that could help me. We had kept in touch over the years and actually met a couple of times a year. In college we moved in very different circles, he was a jock and I a nerd but we’re great friends.”

    “That was because I was his stress reliever, his on-call cocksucker. Mike enjoyed nothing better than living with a guy who didn’t mind sucking him off a couple times a day. He had a beautiful prick, long, straight and blessed with a huge cockhead. His piss hole looked liked like a cannon barrel. Mike had a wide streak of domination that fit seamlessly with my submissive nature. He simply ordered me to service him in the way he enjoyed it; it was all about him.”

    “I e-mailed Mike with my dilemma and he quickly agreed to help me out; we arranged for me to stay with him and his wife for a weekend. It was a 350 mile drive but I was looking forward to it. I had been at his wedding and knew his wife, Janine. She was a good looking Irish girl with a reddish complexion and just a bit plump. She wasn’t fat at all, just slightly soft and plump; Mike said she just loved to fuck.”

    “We went into their living room to get reacquainted and started making small talk while drinking a really good dry red wine. Mike was very “up” and happy; he was still smiling when he zipped down his fly and pulled out that big snake I used to service. I was watching him stroke his cock while talking about some inane TV show when he brought me out of my trance.”

    Mike quickly took control as he talked. “Here John, come on over here and suck my cock again, don’t worry, Janine knows all about your cocksucking and thinks it’s exciting.”

    “I looked over at his wife and she just nodded at me with a wry smile.

    Mike stood up and dropped his pants before settling back into his big chair. What could I do; I went to my knees and moved over to Mike. He held that big cockhead I was so familiar with up to me and I took it into my mouth.”

    “It’s just like old times huh, John? You know Janine, John used to blow me at least twice a day. I could wake up in the middle of the night with a hardon and just walk over to his bed and stuff it into his mouth while he was still sleeping. He’d nurse on it a little while as he was waking up then let me blow my load in his mouth and go back to sleep with a mouthful of cum. Why don’t you get ready for a fucking honey, we’ll be right up.”

    Mike began holding my head and ever so slowly going deeper and deeper.

    “Remember what I taught you John, do it now,” he told me.

    I did remember and slipped quickly back to it. I put my hands behind my back and looked into his eyes. Mike liked his cocksucker to only use his mouth and he really enjoyed watching my face as he forced his cock through my throat opening and I gagged on its thickness. He would then pull my head back letting me get a gasp of breath before plugging my gullet again. I was choking with my eyes watering as I sensed Janine was back. I tried to turn to her and Mike slapped my face.

    “Don’t worry about anything but my cock John, keep your focus, you’re better than that. I think though it’s time to show you how a cocksucker can help a couple fuck don’t you honey? You’re so fucked up by cock John that you can’t concentrate anyway; we’ll start slow so you can learn about cunt.”

    Mike continued, “We’ll be enjoying your service even as you’re doing your hokey research. When we get finished you’ll be an expert,” Mike said. I was mesmerized by my situation as I stood there with my head bowed, listening to my old roommate describe how I would be serving the two of them.

    Janine sat on a high, wide, bed room chair, opened her robe and spread her legs. Mike roughly led me to her and pushed me to my knees.

    “OK John get a good look, before were done you’ll be more familiar with her crotch than with your own face.”

    I’m not into cunt but I couldn’t help salivating as I gazed at the beautiful, pink, hairless cunt of my friend’s wife as she spoke. “Get your nose up there and get used to my scent, it’s a perfume that you’ll learn to love, eau of crotch eh.”

    Mike sat on the chair edge and watched me; the fact that I was being watched by the two of them added a very erotic aspect to my humiliation.

    Her cunt had a musky odor with just a hint of stale piss smell; it wasn’t unpleasant just different than the cock smell I was used to. I shuddered as Mike grabbed one of my ears and led me to those delicious, soft folds with the one word command “lick.”

    I was soon lost in the act as I lapped up and down her cunt slit using my tongue to service her. I noticed that she had begun to gush cum juice; I lapped it up like it was a fine, French sauce, cunt-cum was different than man-cum but very tasty.

    “He looks good down there, how is he doing Janine?” Mike asked her.

    “Pretty good, he has a nice, wide, long tongue. With a little coaching he will be as good a cunt-lapper as he is a cocksucker. I want to get fucked now; his tongue has put me in the mood,” she replied.

    I was roughly pushed away being told to watch as a real man fucked a cunt. Sitting on the floor I watched as Mike approached with his enormous cock sticking out. I was commanded to wet the head so it could slide easily into her. I sucked and licked Mike’s cock until he pushed me down on my back; she climbed on top with her cunt over my face, right at my mouth. He mounted her from the rear as I slurped on dripping cunt juice wetting my face.

    For the first time in my life, I had a close-up view of cock fucking a cunt. I was so close that I could hear the wet sucking sounds of her cunt and felt the spray of their combined juices on my face with each plunge. Mike started to tease her by slowly pulling his cock from her pussy until just the big head remained inside. Then he’d wait until she started whimpering for more before shoving it back in as hard as he could. Each time she would moan loudly.

    His cock was so thick it stretched her puffy pussy lips far apart and when he pulled out, her cunt lips stuck to his shaft and stretched far from her pubic mound. The sight of this was awesome. I was so hot. His cock was rubbing across my lips when he pulled out and her cunt juices washed over my face.

    As Mike fucked Janine, she panted and gasped for air and made sounds that I had never heard before. Mike fucked faster until with a growl, he plunged in right to the hilt, almost squeezing his tightened nut sack into her cunt as well. I knew he was spraying his jism inside her pussy now and I realized that I was just seconds away from eating his leftovers. He had already told me I was to be the fresh-fucked-cunt “clean up” boy.

    When Mike pulled out his slimy meat, a long string of cum followed it out and splashed on my face. I quickly attached my mouth to her gaping gash and proceeded to suck out the warm clumps of scummy cum. It tasted similar to what I had sucked directly from his cock but somewhat sweeter mixed with girl-cum. It slid like syrup down my throat along with Janine’s own sauce. God, it was delicious! Janine then sat up and a rush of sperm flowed out of her pussy and down my throat. He must have shot a huge load deep into her!

    After I cleaned everything out of her pussy, she raised her crotch off my face and looked down at me with a smirk on her face. My face was drenched sticky with their juices.

    “Did you have fun down there sissy boy?” she said and then giggled. She motioned me to immediately go to work on Mike’s semi-stiff rod. His dick was wet with mixed cum and pussy juice, which I slowly licked up. I worked my way down to his balls and gently lapped at each one until his cock started swelling.

    I thought to myself, “this is really hot; our sissy customers will love this scene.”

    So Mark, that’s how I researched our couples operation. I see it as a full service place where one of our sissy cocksuckers that still considers himself bisexual, gets to service a couple. For sure they like cum and it’s my guess that they’ll be thrilled to stick their tongue into a nice, wet cunt full of cum and pay us good money for the privilege.

    Business Plan

    —“A cocksucker rating system with a written skill list that the clients could peruse before picking out a cocksucker:”

    I gave Mark my writing on this business idea and waited for him to finish reading it.

    This will simply be a record keeping function for us. As a cocksucker reached a certain level, let’s say 5 positive comment cards from men, then the cocksucker would be certified for that skill-set. If a particularly talented boy was certified for deep throat and ass licking by 5 men; he would then have a laminated placard hung around his neck with a pink ribbon listing his skill in those tasks. In this way we would be encouraging their learning curve and fostering competition. For the men it would be a great turn-on to pick and choose a cocksucker with the ability to please him.

    It could easily be structured like an ancient slave market where Masters inspected the slaves for sale. An interview of the faggot where they had to put words together to describe what they were trained at would force the cocksucker to humiliate himself and it would be great fun for the alpha-male.

    We might incorporate a system that allowed demerits if the cocksucker failed to live up to the promise. The mere thought of being graded would spur our cocksucker customers to excel, a win-win for everyone and great business for us.

    I devise “A cocksucker service training program:” for Mark.

    “Well Mark, I’ve written this outline of what I think is the most promising business idea for our place yet. Here’s how it will work.” I said.

    “You see Mark we could institute a school right here; it would be a kind of cocksucker training program. I visualize a training class we could run during our slower, off-peak times where a student could learn how to please his man the right way. The respect that a superior male deserves requires more than just cock worship. We would have a few separate courses on toilet duty, body worship, deep throat, ass and ball licking, all for significant cash of course.” Mark was nodding his head; with the mention of money I had his interest at least.

    “Our business plan would be to identify and recruit men who frequented our service station to get sucked off. If they showed the proper attitudinal arrogance we hire them on as trainers. We would get paid by the Cocksucker students and certainly wouldn’t have to pay the teachers much; guys love teaching cocksuckers how to serve them. What a boon to our business cash flow this could be when it was up and running.” I said noting that I had Mark’s attention.

    “Mark, I’ve actually written a short scenario on Deep throat training to explain my thoughts on this training academy to you; I’ve set it in the first person viewpoint of the blow-boy trainee to help you understand it better, here goes.”

    My Deep-Throat training scenario presentation:

    Remember as you read this Mark that it’s written from the cocksucker’s viewpoint.

    “Well here I am, I had finally worked up the courage to sign up for the “Deep Throat training for Cocksuckers school at the Service Station.” I kinda surprised myself by going through with this. It now was the first and foremost thought in my head; it wasn’t easy admitting that I was a natural born cocksucker but I now knew it as the truth. It was simple after I admitted it to myself; I sucked men’s cock and actually wanted to get better at it.”

    “What I hadn’t expected was how humiliating they made the sign up process. I had to enter the “The service station” and strip naked just like anytime I came here to service cock. Then I was sent to an office where a fully clothed staffer questioned me as he filled out a questionnaire.”

    “I see you want to be able to swallow cock right down your throat letting a man fuck your mouth like he would a cunt, is that correct” the staffer asked me.

    “Yes”, I croaked.

    “I hope you realize that as part of this training a man’s 7 or 8 inch cock will be stuffed into your gullet and the training leading up to that will make you gag and cry like a bitch. Is that what you want”, he asked with an even wider smirk.

    “Yes, that’s what I want.” I answered.

    “Before we go any farther let me look at your mouth and tongue, come over here.”

    I went to him and opened my mouth which he began exploring with his fingers; when he had me stick out my tongue he just ran his fingers over it. There’s nothing like being handled, while totally naked, by a smirking, laughing young staffer.

    I was taken to a dimly lit small room with another fully clothed guy in it. As I soon learned his name was Todd and he was assigned as my trainer. I stood there, butt-naked waiting for an instruction, Todd just stared at me. I was becoming very uncomfortable when he finally motioned me to a place on the floor in front of him and began talking to me.

    “Mark, at this point I wrote a short scenario that our trainer could use as a starting point to acclimate the cocksucker trainee. Putting it in a story context will help you understand the concept. You told me that you couldn’t understand what motivates a cocksucker so I devised this little storyline

  • The Unexpected Father

    “The Unexpected Father”

    By J Aradon

    “ It’s all done ” Joe said as came up from the basement of the house 

    “ Great, how much do I owe you?”

    “ Nothing kid” Joe said wiping his hands on his work jeans.  I was forty years old but Joe insisted on calling me kid.  He had been my father’s best friend

    “I got to pay you something,” I said

    “ Well if you got a cold one I’ll take it”

    “ Sure thing Joe” I said opening the refrigerator and handed him a beer.

     “So you are still planning on selling the place?”

    “ Yeah this house is too big for me” I had inherited the house from my father who had passed away the previous year.  Joe had been my father’s best friend

    “I get it my house it too big for me too”

    I wondered why Joe had never gotten married.  He was still a handsome man.

    “Maybe we should move in together,” I sai

    “No you want a younger man,” Joe said          

    Joe was taller than my dad; six feet with a solid built.  He was former Marine and was still in the same shape as when he left the service. He still wore his gray hair in a high and tight.   Joe knew I was gay and he never made an issue of it. 

    “Well your in fine shape for guy your age” I said

    “Thanks kid ” Joe said playfully punching me on the shoulder.

    “I wish my father had taken better care of himself ”

    “You still miss him don’t you?” Joe said

    “Yeah I guess I do,” I said getting a bit emotional

    “Come here son” Joe said and hugged me in his powerful arms.  Joe smelled just like my father.

    “Thanks Joe” I said     

    “I think I know what you need son” Joe said

    “What do you mean?“I said

    “Something you never got from your old man” Joe said

    “My father was a good man. He was always kind to me”

    “But you wanted more from him?”

    “Like what?“I said

    “You wanted him to have sex with you” Joe said.

    “No! no your wrong I never wanted that“I said and turned away from Joe

    “Don’t lie to me boy” Joe said“And look at me when I speak to you”

    I had no choice but to look into his beautiful rough face.

    “Yes sir” I said.

    “You wanted your father to love you in a way he never could?” Joe said

    “But it’s too late for that now”

    “It’s never too late son” Joe said and tried to kiss me

    “Joe please this is not a good idea” I said pulling away from him.

    “Let dad take care of you” he said and kissed me. This was not a fatherly kiss I could feel his tongue inside my mouth.

    “Joe that was hot“I said

    “You are making your dad excited son” Joe said and pointed to the obvious bulge in his jeans.’’

    “I can see that Joe” I said.

    “Let’s get comfortable son” Joe said and pulled of his t-shirt. He had a nice hairy chest.  He had Semper Fi and the Marine Corp logo tattooed over his heart

    “Yes dad” I said and pulled of my own shirt

    “You got nice chest son,” Joe said touching my nipples

    “I want to make you proud sir” I said

    “You are a beautiful young man” Joe said and kissed me again

    I could feel his cock through the fabric of his jeans.

    “Can I suck you’re your cock dad?” I pleaded.

    “Is that what you want son” Joe said and unzipped his fly

    “Yes dad” I said

    :” Help your old man out of these clothes” Joe said

    I pulled on his jean. Joe was wearing old fashion boxers just like my dad.

    “Get on your knees and suck your old man” Joe said pulling his hard eight inch cock out of the fly of his underwear

    “Dad you got a big cock,” I said stroking Joe’s thick shaft.

    “It’s all yours son” he said gently leading my mouth towards his cock.

    I sucked Joe’s cock and I knew this is what my dad would have taste it like.

    “Yeah son“Joe said,“Make your dad feel good”

    And I did the best I could because that was now the voice of my father

              “Oh son you got a sexy mouth,“Joe said stroking my hair.

    I savored the shaft coming in and out my mouth.

    “Your going to make your dad cum“Joe said

    I wanted him to fill my mouth with his load

    “ Yeah son open wide,” Joe said

    I could feel his warm cum coating the back of my throat I made sure not too spill a drop.

    “You are a good cocksucker son,” Joe said

    “Glad you liked it dad”

    “Come here!” Joe picked me up in his strong arms.

    We kissed again.

    “Lets hit the bed son” Joe growled as he carried me to the bedroom

    “Joe I really wanted this”

    “I know son,” Joe said gently dropping me on the mattress.  I looked up and admired his muscles

    “Let me show you how I take care of my boy” Joe said.  He pulled on my pants and brief exposing my ass.

    “Are you going to fuck me dad”? 

    “Do you want me to son?” Joe said as he fingered my ass with is thumb

    “Oh yes dad please” I said moaning with pleasure.

    “Going to make my boy feel good” Joe said and started to rim my butt hole.  His long thick tongue penetrated my tight hole.

    “Fuck me dad please fuck me” I said.

    “Can you handle my fat cock son?“Joe said as he placed the tip of his eight-inch tool on my crack.

    “Oh yes dad my ass needs it” I said

    “Good boy“Joe said and I felt his cock entering my shaft.

    “Oh dad”

    “Gonna make you feel like a man son” Joe said as he fucked me hard

    “Oh this feel so right“I said and it did.

    Joe kept fucking me. I could feel the sweaty muscles straining as his 200 lbs rammed deep into me.

    “Your are gonna make daddy cum again” Joe said

    “Yeah dad give me your load” I said I could feel his shaft vibrating inside my ass.

    “Gonna breed my boy! “

    “Do it dad do it”

    I felt his hot jizz filling my ass. 

    Joe reached around grabbed my hard cock. He only had to stroke it a few times until I had powerful orgasm.  Joe collected my cum in his hand and fed it to me

    “Good boy” he said and kissed me on the lips.

    I closed my eyes and saw my father’s face.

    “I love you boy”.

    “Love you too dad. ” I said.

    “You really needed to hear that?“it was not my father who had spoken it was Joe.

    “Yeah from the right man” I said

    “We are going to be fine you and me” Joe said.

    “Can I still call you dad?” I said tugging at his cock.

    “You are my boy now” Joe said and kissed me.  I looked over and saw a photo of my dad. I knew that somewhere in heaven he was smiling.  His son and his best friend were now bonded over his love

    The End


    © 2023 Jaradonfiction

    Love to hear you thoughts and comments: [email protected]

  • The Roman Mens Club

    It was time, in just a few days I had become more and more comfortable in my submissive role. I was now accustomed to thinking of him as a better man who I must obey. Master John had told me of the club he belonged to where slaves and Master’s met in a comfortable, luxurious setting. I was intrigued when he said he’d take me there. It was only a few days away.

    Today was the day I was to visit the club, Master laughingly referred to me as an interested observer as we entered the road to the compound. This was the first time in a week that I had clothes on and it actually felt funny to be clothed.

    The Club was situated in the middle of a 330-acre plot. It had been built many years ago for the express purpose of being a sex club. As we drove up I could see the brown, brick stucco walls that completely enclosed the place behind walls 10 feet high of concrete. It was even more impressive because it was situated amongst very large trees. I had a fleeting thought of the desert movie oasis. After a dusty drive we arrived at a substantial gate.

    Master dialed in the key code and the gate opened for us to walk in; I honestly felt lightheaded as I realized that I was finally here. We walked thru a dimly lit building that led into the main house. It had an odd design in that there was a very large, sumptuously appointed room with glass doors on one side and a bathroom in one corner. One of the real oddities of the room was that it had no walls; it was a completely open space!

    There were glass doors on one side that led out into a large pool patio area under what looked like a huge roll-out awning. In addition to the pool there was a hot tub, palm trees, lounge chairs and what looked like some small rooms in back of light weight curtains waving in the day’s soft breezes. The initial quick-flash impression of the outside area was that it was really posh with all the furnishing of first-rate quality reeked of being certainly conceived for the total comfort of its members.

    Master John led me over to a large, black leather couch where a middle-aged man sat with his legs spread and a naked suck-boy between his legs servicing him. I didn’t know it then but he was the Club’s manager.

    “Hi John, I see you’ve bought us the new boy you told us about, that’s just great. Why don’t you go visit with Doug at the bar while I interview him.”?

    The manager smiled at me as he was talking and motioned me to sit on the couch next to him, another naked slave boy appeared and offered me a glass of wine. I accepted the glass and couldn’t help thinking of how very surreal this was as I sat next to the club’s manager who was enjoying a blow job from a naked slave; I took another swig of the very good red varietal wine as I took it all in.

    “Well Chrissy you’ve taken your first big steps; you answered John’s ad and agreed to interview with us at our little Club. These are the very big steps leading to an understanding of what you really are; it’s the only way you’ll be truly happy. I think it better if you strip naked for our little talk, do it now” he said with a smile that let me know that it was really an order, not a suggestion.

    I had waited for this interview so there was no choice so as confidently as I could I leaned forward removing my shoes and socks and then stood up to take off my shirt hanging it on the back of the chair. I turned to face Mark who still had his cock firmly planted in the kneeling slave’s mouth as I unbuckled my belt. It seemed to me that the room was filled with a casual, relaxed attitude that was at odds with the excitement and yes, the fear that I was now feeling. I went ahead and unbuttoned my pants, unzipped the zipper and stepped out of them. I turned and faced Master Mark with an embarrassing erection tenting my jockey shorts.

    My gaze went to Mark who looked me square in the eye and then at my crotch before looking me in the eye again. He smiled a smirky, go-ahead sort of nod. I took this as an invitation (order?) and hooked my thumbs under the waistband and lowered my shorts. When I straightened up my very erect little cock was pointed due north. I think it was at this instant that I realized I had just crossed yet another new threshold and it made me smile in spite of the natural humiliation I felt.

    A new feeling washed over me as I noticed Master Mark gazing at my erection. I wasn’t exactly humiliated because Master John had certainly gotten me accustomed to being nude but now I was completely nude in front of a man I barely knew who was to soon be one of my owners. There was a sexual tension in the room that I could almost taste.

    Mark said, “Well, you sure are happy to be here. Now I’d like you to turn around, bend over, and spread your ass cheeks for me, I want to get a good look at your boy-cunt now.”

    When I had assumed the position, I felt Master Mark nudge a finger lightly down my crack just before he smacked my ass cheek sharply with his hand.

    “I think you’ll be a pretty good fuck Chrissy now just sit on the floor while I give you what we club members laughingly call “the cocksucker reality talk.”

    “But first Chris, tell me what do you know of our little club?” Master Mark said as he pulled his suck-boy’s head off his cock and pushed him onto his balls with a one-word order, “lick.”

    I answered truthfully that I knew only little bits and pieces about the club that I had overheard at Master John’s house.

    “Well we’ll have to change that, I guess it’s my job to explain what we’re about here. By the way, does Simon’s sucking on my cock bother you? In a bit I’ll have him service you while we talk, would you like that?”

    “Yes Sir, I think that I would like that. “I answered.

    “In a while then, our little club isn’t really unique, there are many similar organizations around the world; we know because they give us reciprocal privileges when we’re traveling just like Yacht and golf clubs do. A little research and you’ll find that throughout all history Alpha males have formed into groups to get the pampered sexual services they want. In our case we have well over 200 active members so our clubhouse here is never really close to empty.”

    Master Mark then asked if I had any questions before he continued, “Our founder’s way back in the sixties gathered a group of guys who could easily afford the dues that are needed to run a very luxurious spa for males who had definite ideas of how they wanted to be sexually served. Early on they found that submissive males made very docile, eager cocksuckers that were easily trained, that’s been our focus ever since. While our members are straight our research showed that male cocksuckers actually enjoyed being subservient while women serve only grudgingly and often bulk at providing the “complete service” our members expect. Once our founders made the determination that a mouth is a mouth, we went ahead with an all-male staff.”

    I was really immersed in Master Mark’s history and how I might fit into their Club when he surprised me by directing his suck-boy, Simon, to suck on my cock. I have to agree that he had a magical mouth; it was warm, wet and silky. My little cock was certainly no challenge for him. I couldn’t help staring at Master Mark’s big cock glistening with saliva. The club manager was certainly hung; a thought flashed through my mind that I had never even seen a cock that thick let alone serviced one.

    “Don’t make him cum Simon, just get him going, you know the rules. Our service boys can’t cum except when their servicing one of his owners, he’s not allowed to play with his own cock or cum in another boy’s mouth or ass; the only relief that’s allowed is for the suck-boy to spontaneously cum when he’s servicing a Club member. We’ve found that our boys serve the best when their constantly aroused and horny. It isn’t as difficult as you might think. It’s been our experience that after a week or so here all of our suck-boys achieve a cum serving a member, usually with a cock plugging their mouth. You’ll find that a cum achieved while you’re serving one of your owners is the most satisfying climax that you’ve ever had. By the way what Simon is demonstrating on you is what’s called edging, keeping the suckee right on the brink of a cum, almost there but not there; the cocksucker must be skilled in reading the signs and slowing to keep the “edge” on. A trained cocksucker feels the pulse of a prick along with the swelling of a cockhead and adjusts his mouth action to slow the cum.”

    It was a lot to think about but Simon’s suck skills made it difficult to concentrate. I thought of myself as a reasonably skilled cocksucker but now knew that I had much to learn to match Simon’s skill set.

    Master Mark didn’t let me contemplate for long as he continued.

    “You’re a bottom Chrissy and trained bottom boys don’t need to cum and in fact only want to cum when serving their Master’s. A suck-boy in our service only gets his sexual relief from the experience that the Alpha-male is having. His relief actually starts from the time that a better man’s cock enters him and then increases as the Master gets more excited and then climaxes, giving the suck-boy his cum and possibly the sexual relief he needs. In no circumstance will one of our Club boys achieve a cum unless he’s servicing his Master. He knows that he’s never to beat his own cock off or even handle his own cock, that’s the rule here and you’ll find it’s for your own good.”

    Master Mark handed me a paper and told me to read it carefully before I signed it. This “service-Manifesto” defined my devotion to the Alpha’s of the club. It was really surreal as a boy sucked my cock while I contemplated becoming a club cockslave.

    The manifesto read:

    To our Applicant, please read, understand and sign this Cocksucker Manifesto. In order to clearly embrace the role of a service provider you must first understand who you are and what you are. It’s important to clearly think it through. An experienced cocksucker should discuss his cocksucker manifesto with his feeder-owner to form an ongoing agreement for sexual services.

    Your feeder-owner might want to add services not mentioned or add detail to specific actions. A cocksucker cannot be shy and will usually be pleasantly surprised to find that his man will be flattered by his effort to please and the humiliating candor he must muster to discuss his cocksucking service.

    The cocksucker, customer manifesto is a pleasant “talking point” that a cocksucker can use to outline the services he’s proficient at. It’s also true that talking frankly and explicitly about servicing a man is very exciting to both the alpha-male and the submissive. If the cocksucker is naked during the “talk” so much the better; it’s certainly exciting and humiliating.

    As a cocksucker I long ago realized that my place is between the legs of my feeder. I am a cocksucker and I realize my sexual fulfillment depends on the level of pleasure I give to my feeder along with his generosity in allowing me to gain nourishment from his manhood.

    I must always keep the real facts of life in mind. “In life there are superior men (alpha-male) and their followers (beta-male). It’s the natural order that some superior men want to be worshipped while many followers want to be worshippers. Men automatically sort out into a hierarchy of superior men and their followers. This happens quite formally in the military all over the world, it happens informally in small tribes, in happens with gangs, it happens anytime men get together without women. Looser hierarchies occur when females are involved with the men, but men still naturally sort out from superior to inferior, top to bottom, he who is the god, and he who worships the god. Men always gravitate to Dominant and submissive roles in their relationships because there is something so deeply and profoundly satisfying for a superior Man to be worshiped and serviced by submissive males. It’s equally satisfying perhaps even more satisfying, for submissive males to be granted the opportunity to serve and worship a superior Man, a man who’ll guide, control, and even own them in different forms of consensual slavery mutually without guilt on anyone’s part.”

    As a cocksucker, I realize that my only real sexual organs are my mouth, tongue, and throat. I know that my only need is to pleasure my feeder from my perch at my one true place, kneeling between his legs. I was born to be a cocksucker and can only be content when humiliating myself by worshipping the cock of my feeder-owner, a superior man. I know that my man wants constant examples of respectful acknowledgement of his superiority so I’ll maintain eye contact as I demean myself with a mouthful of cock; I’ll present my mouthful of cum to him, slack jawed, before I swallow his gift. It’s all about respect and ownership.

    I have no needs other than his needs. As his cocksucker, I solemnly vow, without hesitation or regret to work hard to train my willing mouth. I Know I belong on my knees in awe at the opportunity to service the manhood of the alpha-male feeder. I have to always be very ready to accept my feeder’s thick semen. It’s my nourishment, his gift to me. My job is to be his cum receptacle in any manner he requires whenever, wherever he wants.

    I give my feeder my best for this is what he deserves for allowing me to nourish myself on the head of his prick. I promise to maintain such focus on his cock and his pleasure that it becomes the center of my universe.

    I’ll learn when he needs me to suck, swallow, gag, stroke, and choke without his having to tell me. If he only wants me to suckle on his cockhead then that’s what I’ll do; if he wants to see me gag on his massive prick I’m ready. I know my place in the world and love and embrace being a cocksucker as this is the only way I can perform to my feeder’s satisfaction.

    I accept that my feeder is allowed to say whatever he wants or call me whatever name he thinks appropriate while I am pleasuring him. I’ll show my addiction and need for his cock and cum by begging for it if need be, for I know that a real Cocksucker has no standing, no pride. A cocksucker’s Alpha male considers his cocksucker as simply a warm-mouth receptacle for his cock, cum and piss.

    He’s welcome to make my mouth a willing and anxious hole for his warm, nourishing semen as I will swallow my Feeder’s cum with pride. I must learn every nuance of his cock and what pleasures him the most then meekly surrender to deep throating, surrender to face-fucking, surrender to multiple cocks or offering to be used as his urinal.

    If he wants me to lick his ass-crack I know that I must kneel and bury my face between his manly twin globes with my tongue out; after all it is my place.

    I’ll never stop until my feeder is finished with me and truly satisfied. I must be ready for an alpha male superior at any time, or any place. As a cocksucker, I realize that my sexual identity, my sense of self is tied to the service I need to furnish to the cock of a superior man.

    I know that in life I will only achieve fulfillment through the graciousness and charity of my feeder and hereby vow with all sincerity to service my feeder to the best of my ability and strive to improve my technique through constant training and practice.

    The consequences in breaking this contract will result in my spiritual, sexual, and physical starvation. I was put on this earth to serve and only performing as a happy cocksucker fulfills me.

    I realize that my owner may want to fuck my ass; I must submit to him. If he desires to bend me over like a bitch dog and plunge his big cock into through my ass-lips then I must accept his fucking with gratitude. I am but a hole for his cock and my pain isn’t his concern. When he finishes with my nether hole I know that it’s my place to clean his slimy cock, sticky with cum and waste. I will use my tongue to lick his cock clean until it’s as pristine as when he leaves a shower.

    This is my fate; I was created to be a real man’s cockslave using my lips, mouth, tongue and ass to service him. I am his cocksucker.

    Signature of applicant…

    I gulped and signed realizing that it was the very first time that I had really, thoughtfully come to terms with what I was.

    There must have been a signal because quite suddenly Simon stopped sucking me and just got up and left the area. Master Mark smirked as he said. “I think you should get down here and lick my balls as I continue boy.” I had been staring at his magnificent cock anyway and I just slid to the floor and began tonguing his ball sack.

    “Ah, that’s right Chrissy you’re going to be the happiest and most satisfied knowing that you’re just a faggot; a faggot that serves men anyway they want. You’ll soon be able to accept these facts about yourself because they make you happy and satisfied. When you accept the truth while serving a man and acknowledge that he’s totally in charge you’ll finally be fulfilled and happy. If he wants to face fuck you then you’ll just unhinge your jaw and make your mouth into a cunt. You’re going to convince your mind that your mouth is a cunt. A deep cunt with a tongue made for a man’s pleasure. It’s important to realize that your tongue isn’t just for conversation, it’s for licking a real man’s balls and asshole, whatever he wants is your responsibility.”

    It’s funny but his words seemed to be much more meaningful and important from my vantage point on the floor tonguing his balls; I was actually inspired as he so accurately described me. There’s something to be said about finally finding yourself and your place in life, it made me feel much freer. Master Mark continued in his soft assertive, matter of fact tone.

    “Up till now Chrissy your world has been grey, without the excitement of color; Our Club can make it as bright as a circus wagon, all you have to do is follow our directions and totally acknowledge that you’re a cocksucker put on the planet to lick a man’s ass and drink his cum. We know what you need because we’ve had experience with boys like you; we can teach you how to satisfy that constant itch you know you have. It’s a truism that you’ll only be happy when you’re servicing a real man; it’s what suck-boys like you were created for; to make the cocks of men feel good. Of course, we know that you’ve heard that boy-cocksuckers are queer people that men make fun of, don’t believe it, cocksuckers are valuable commodities. At our Club we know that Cocksuckers serve a valuable need by sucking off the excess jism from a man’s balls. There’s nothing quite as relaxing as having a talented cocksucker drain your balls just the way you like it at the speed you enjoy. No women can serve as that talented cocksucker because that all-important need for humiliation is missing. A cocksucker boy wants to submit, wants to be humiliated and thus tries so much harder.”

    I was lost in his meaty, soft balls as I listened to his oh-so-accurate description of who I am. I knew his big balls were full of the sticky, salty cum that I craved and somehow it seemed so right to be worshiping them.

    “You know Chrissy that a cocksucker’s mouth is his most important sexual organ. Our suck-boys have that reinforced every day they are with us. There is a Club rule that they will take anything that comes out of our pricks into their mouth and swallow it. It’s all irrespective of whether I have been fucking a boy’s ass or his throat. In most cases our members will always finish off in a boy’s mouth. We like our cocksuckers to be hot, obedient, submissive, willing, hungry, eager, and expert in their craft. Our club members get off on a guy on his knees needing a cock. We love to fuck face our boys our way not the cocksucker’s way, that means we will always control the situation, and the suck-boy does everything just the way he’s told. It’s really simple we tell you what to do and you submit no matter what it is. Take just my cockhead into your mouth now boy!”

    I quickly closed my lips around his big, purple cockhead and gently sucked on it. There’s nothing that feels as smooth and velvety as cock; I was loving it.

    “I’ve decided to take you into our club as a trainee suck-boy. You’ll be outfitted with the yellow wrist and neck bands that signify your trainee status. A fully trained and tested Club cocksucker wears pink leather gear. You don’t have to worry, we’ll train you to serve the way we want.

    I remembered a passage that I had read in “training the Submissive” that was so on point to my situation that I had read and reread it until it was committed to my memory. I couldn’t help thinking of that passage.

    “You should know that our little organization was started by some wealthy people that wanted to relax and be serviced in any way they want much like it was in ancient Rome for the elite ruling classes. It took us a while to find out that an eager, happy submissive made a much better cocksucker.

    I’m using the word cocksucker but you understand that you’ll be servicing much more of me than my cock; from your application I know you’re good with this but we have to just be sure. I’m sure you noticed that our slave boys have to be volunteers, no kidnapping or coercion for us. The men serving in our organization think only of pleasing the man they are servicing and are excited by the shear humiliation of it all. A boy like you, to use biker-bar vernacular, you’ll become their bitch.”

    “I’m telling you this so we can work towards your acceptance of who and what you are. If you’re really a cocksucker there’s nothing you can do to stop that from controlling your entire life. Fighting it will only cause you misery and discontent. You will never be satisfied with your life not matter how successful or rich you are unless you acknowledge that you were born to serve better men.”

    “We’ll put you in the “service industry” he said with a wide smile.”

    Was he right? Was my place between a man’s legs, kneeling to suck on his cock? I had to admit that these explicit thoughts he was telling me had me very excited. I didn’t want to get up and leave, I wanted to go ahead with this. Maybe I was the submissive, cocksucker he was describing.

    Sir continued, “You’re starting on a difficult journey boy; I’ll help you through it but you’ve got to just let yourself go and trust me. If you trust me and accept your position you’ll find yourself in the happiest place you’ve ever been. During your training you’ll not be abused and I think you’ll find me quite friendly yet demanding. Has long as you realize your place is sucking cock you’ll find that learning the skills of a personal slave is enjoyable; you will want to please. Acceptance of your role in life will free you to serve alpha males with the skill and eagerness that they deserve.”

    I thought to myself that he might be right; I was very hot and already thinking of myself as that slave boy he wanted.

    “It’s time to take your clothes off now boy, strip down while I’m talking. You’ll soon be performing the acts you’ve been fantasying about. I’ll lead you through them; all you have to do is obey me. It’s been our experience that boys like you make much better personal slaves after they’ve accepted their place in life and therefore think only of the cock in their mouth or the ass crack they have to lick.”

    On the drive over Master John had reminded me of my obligations as a cocksucker. My training up to this day had been intensive and a recap of what was required of a cock slave he thought useful. He didn’t know that his selection of “reading homework” was constantly rolling through my head.

    “Remember boy, whenever a cock is inside your mouth, you must forget about having a throat, it’s a face cunt, a male face cunt and it must work exactly as a cunt. In some respects, your mouth cunt is better because a cunt hasn’t a tongue to lick your Master’s piss slit and balls.”

    “You’ll realize when your face cunt is working at its best by the words of your Master, by his moaning, by the way he grabs your face, by the intensity of his strokes as he stuffs your mouth with cock.”

    “Your face cunt must be a well of pleasure for the cock of your Master and his cum bucket. A receptacle for his spunk, his piss and spit. The very moment you realize your throat is a face cunt you understand you have finally become a cocksucker, very useful to your Master. Your reward will be his pleasure and the taste of his cum and piss. As you’re taught how to perform your toilet duty keep in mind that it’s what your Master wants of you, make me proud.”

    We walked thru a dimly lit building and out into a large, sunny pool patio area. In addition to the pool there was a hot tub, many palm trees, lounge chairs and what looked like some small rooms in the back of shear light curtains that waved in the soft breeze. The place looked very much like a plush outdoor bar in Key West. The big walnut bar was surrounded by bar stools with red leather seats and backs. The entire look was posh and inviting.

    It certainly wasn’t difficult to tell who was slave and who Master. All the slaves wore only leather cuffs, collars and leashes but were otherwise naked while the obvious Masters and a few Mistresses were in various stages of dress with some naked and others fully clothed.

    My owner sat down at one of the comfortable bar stools while motioning me to the floor on the side of him. The man next to us had a very young, skinny boy on his knees licking his feet. “Hi John, who’s the mooch, a new slave boy” the man asked?

    “Yeah, he’s new all right, I bought him here to observe, see if this is really his scene. You know it’s not for everyone but I think he just might make a good body slave, he did sign the Manifesto, we’ll soon see.”

    From my vantage point on the floor I tried to watch the action but I Couldn’t see all that well. Master noticed and motioned me to follow him. I was soon in the middle of the compound where Master tied a rope fastened to a steel ring in the floor around my neck. “Take a good look boy, visualize yourself here. Don’t worry no one will bother you without the leather collar and cuffs that make you a full-fledged, accepted club slave here, enjoy.”

    As I cringed on the ground I looked around, slaves were being used all over. The great majority were men or boys but there were a few women. On my right a Mistress was in a hammock like sling complete with stirrups and the bottom cut out allowing very complete access to her cunt and ass. A slave boy was using his tongue and slobbering up and down her crack from her asshole to fuck hole with the flat of his tongue. Every once in a while, a man on a recliner next to her would stand up and stick his cock in her pussy. The little slave would move his head and watch closely. When the man pulled his cock out the boy just slurped the man’s cock clean before returning to his cunt-lapping duties.

    In all this I was amazed that the Masters seemed to be able to continuously cum, in great quantities and at will. Then I remembered Master telling me on the way down here that members took an herb potion that allowed them to cum whenever they wanted.

    Over to the other side of the compound it looked like there was a new slave just beginning his initiation. There were two members training the slave boy of about 18 how to serve a cock. His name was Mike and even though he, like all slaves sought out the humiliation and shame of slavery he certainly seemed apprehensive. I imagined what this must be like for him, for me, it was hot to watch.

    My owner had told me that servicing his Master’s cock for the first few times was usually done in private. That way the suck boy could get used to performing as a man’s cocksucker without the distractions and additional humiliation of being watched. This was the second stage and the suck boy was going to have to perform in front of a crowd. I knew that being a cocksucker alone with just you and your man was quite a private thing while doing it in front of a crowd required the boy to admit to himself that he wanted to debase himself by submitting in front of others; it was a big step for a cocksucker. One of the members using a firm, soft tone said “Now you just open up and take the head, kid. We’ll start out real slow while you get used to sucking on a cock, Ok? Now first thing, just slide your tongue around the head of my cock, get it good and wet before you get some suction going.”

    “Yes, Sir” the boy said as he slowly opened his mouth and accepted the thick, pink cockhead that was offered to him. The man’s cock was drooling quite a lot of precum now and I knew the boy could certainly taste the salty tang of it as he ran his tongue over the huge, purple head. The man sighed as the boy slave’s hot mouth surrounded his hard cock. I guessed that he had never tasted cum before but knew that he would soon find that the taste of this man’s precum would be a treat.

    “Whatcha doing down there kid?” The man asked as he leaned back and looked down. “I don’t feel any tongue action, something wrong, get to it?”

    The boy slowly shook his head and got back to working on the hard cock in his mouth. I knew from experience that he was amazed at how thick this man’s cock was and how his mouth had to stretch open to take just the first few inches. The boy slave Mike startled a bit when he heard another clicking sound behind him followed by a whoosh as the second trainer began lightly flogging his bare ass with a leather belt like whip. The whip never broke skin but it did hurt; it was just another training step that the club had developed to keep the new slut focused.

    The man in front started talking again which seemed to pull the boy back to the task at hand.

    “Ok kid, let’s get some more of my cock into that hot mouth of yours. You just start suckin’ while I slide it in; Let’s see how much of my cock you can take!”

    Again, he tried to pull back but the Master was pressing forward pushing The hard cock further into his mouth as the light ass whipping kept up the rhythm.

    “MMmmmMMMMMnnn.” was all the little slave could say as the long, thick shaft slid further into his mouth, deeper and deeper. I couldn’t help but visualize myself in his place, on my knees in front of my trainer choking on his cock as his friend flogged my ass.

    “Oh yeah, do it you slave slut!! Suck that cock! Wrap those tight lips around it and suck! Suck that cock!!!The boy was probably relieved the trainer had stopped just short of hitting the back of his throat but just as that thought formed the man pushed forward plugging the boys windpipe with the thick cock head. Again and again he choked him with his cock before pulling out for the boy to catch a breath. Eventually the boy became a little more accustomed to the cock invading his throat. It wasn’t yet comfortable for him but he knew now he wouldn’t die. I remembered just how unsettling this training was for me; I recalled having watering eyes while saliva gushed out of my mouth as I gasped for a breath of air.

    The boy was now sucking and running his tongue over the hard shaft as the Master began to slowly fuck his mouth, in and out, ever deeper and deeper.

    The Master in the front had his cock in hand while yelling at the boy (Mikey). “Ok, you little shit now you are gonna get a serious mouth fuck and you BETTER keep your fuckin’ teeth in check! No more taking it slow, I need to blow my load, now! That’s enough of this gentle, slow cocksucker training!”

    His mouth was still open as the assault on his ass cheeks continued. Just as the pain started to lessen the boy felt the hard cock in front of him jamming into his mouth and down deep into his throat, causing him to again gag.

    “Take it you fucking cum-dump.” The trainer said as he thrust his body up to his boy’s mouthcunt.

    The slave took a quick deep breath in through his nose just before the cock slammed back into his mouth. I knew that by now he couldn’t think straight; the cock that was now his entire universe fucked deep into his mouth. The long, thick shaft in his mouth gagged him every time it slid down his throat. Little slave Mikey didn’t even have time to panic as he dealt with this hard, horny Master using his mouth as a cum-dump. The swats to his bare ass were causing him to lurch forward now eager for the prick to thrust through his lips. He could also feel the collar around his neck bite every time Master fucking his mouth thrust into his face, a reminder of his status, I thought. He was now just spasming throat cunt throbbing around a cock. After a dozen fast strokes into his throat the trainer’s heavy breathing turned to a loud groan as the cock fucking his mouth hardened and spit cum into the boy’s tender throat.

    “Ok boy, here ya go, the trainer yelled, “Your first load of nut juice! Oh yeah, oh Fuck yeah! Swallow that load!! Eat it now boy. Awwwww fuck, fuck yeah!”

    The boy’s eyes flew wide open as he felt the large shaft go rock hard with a pulse working up to the tip. Suddenly a shot of cum blasted out and coated the back of his throat, then another and another until Mikey’s mouth was full of thick, hot cum swimming around Master’s hard cock. The man kept thrusting into the slave’s mouth as he worked out every drop of cum from his swollen balls. The taste of ball juice slammed into the boy’s senses as the slowly thrusting cock finally started to shrink. The man shuddered as he reluctantly withdrew his cock from the slave’s hot mouth. He leaned down to see the boy’s skinny body jerking with the sensation of the trainer’s cock finally leaving his mouth.

    “Now you just swill that load around in your mouth, kid, get a good taste of what you will be eating for the rest of your life, what you were born to do. And don’t you even think about spitting it out!! That is high quality V.I.P. Master cum that is never to be wasted. What do ya think slave?

    Taste good?” Mikey nodded yes.

    A tear slowly slid down Mikey’s face as his mouth held the thick load of man cum. The man smiled down, “Open up, kid, let’s see how much I shot into your pussyboy mouth!”

    The slave’s mouth opened slowly to show the man the large, milky load pooled in the corner of his mouth. Another hard thrust into his mouth from Master’s fuck stick caused a bit of cum to slip over his lower lip and slide down his chin.

    “Ah, ah, baby. That is prime sperm from a real man! We wanna make sure you swallow it all down!” The man slowly slid his finger under the boy’s jerking chin to catch the large drop of cum. “Here ya go kid, suck that off of my finger and swallow down my load. You have to make room for the next hard cock to make a deposit.”

    The boy swallowed once, twice and then a third time trying to get all of the thick, sticky cum down his throat. He couldn’t get it all down, it must have felt like it was coating his mouth and throat. Of all people, I knew that the taste of cum would not leave his senses soon!!

    “Good boy.” the man said as he stood tall and zipped up his slacks. “Now you enjoy that cum meal and don’t worry, I’ll send someone else over to fill that hot mouth of yours in just a few minutes. From what I saw when I got here, this place was filling up fast, there will be Masters over here one after the other. You’ll be eating a lot of man cum tonight, kid, but I’m sure you’ll always remember that my load in your mouth was your first, see you later, kid.”

    Slave Mikey winced at the thought of eating even more cum but he did not have time to worry about it. The man who had encouraged him by whipping his ass was standing in front.

    I have to admit that watching a boy slave get his first throat fucking just as I had recently experienced it, made me hot, it wasn’t a very long leap of faith to put me back in that same place, I was happy in servitude now and I bet the boy was also.

    There were more slaves that were tethered to floor rings or various devices that positioned them for a Master’s pleasure. I watched an older slave who was fastened on his stomach over a wide, upholstered hassock. His ankles were spread wide so that his ass was opened wide and in perfect position for any man who wanted to fuck it. On the other side there was a red curtain that kind of closed off a corner. I wondered what could possibly go on in there given the sex being done out in the open right here. I sensed a presence and looked up into John’s face. “Well I can see from your hard on that you’re excited by all this. Look at me and tell me you want to continue or I’ll take you out of here.” He was right I had to go on, I really did like this.

    “I want to serve here Master, let me stay.”

    “I thought so boy, I believe that you’re a natural slave but as your Master I have to tell you that it won’t be easy, you have a lot to learn.”

    He untied the rope that tethered me to the floor and walked towards the red curtain in the corner with me scampering behind him.

    As we entered I noticed that it was quite dimly lit, so that was the reason for the curtains, to shield the outside light. There were many slaves inside the room, which appeared to be a rest room! As my eyes grew accustomed to the gloom I saw just how strange a rest room this was. Master motioned to a slave tethered at a freestanding urinal in the middle of the floor. The boy shuffled to the back of it and stuck his head thru the opening. There was a hole molded into it in the shape of a head that a slave could stick their head into, how awful, how cool this was!

    Master opened his robe and took out his half hard cock. The other slaves were watching with what I thought was envy as Master John looked down at the urinal slave’s face and slowly began to piss. I couldn’t help it I sighed with the shear eroticism of it all. Master looked at me and asked if I thought I was ready.

    “Do you think your really ready boy, want to take his place?” I nodded my head as I said “yes Sir, please Sir.” The boy reluctantly moved away at John’s order. Master John was solicitous about placing my face just so in the urinal even asking if I was comfortable. When he walked around the front I had a little time to wonder what I was in for. As I think about it now I’m sure that John wanted me to contemplate my role as his piss drinker. With my face firmly in the urinal I felt every bit the slave boy; It was so hot.

    John finally stood just in front of me with a half hardon, just looking at me as he said, “Open your cunt mouth now boy and let’s see your eyes eh. Stick your tongue out and try to lick that drop of piss off my piss slit, a wee little taste for you. Ah, good, now let me tell you how it’s going to go; I’ll piss into your mouth and you’re to hust hold it there, just like a piss bowl eh, until I tell you to flush your mouth by swallowing. It’s your first time so I’ll go slowly so you can get used to it and have time to savor your first taste of man piss.” I didn’t have much time to reflect as he almost immediately shot a short spurt into my open mouth. I noted that it didn’t taste half bad, very warm, salty and tangy with a musty pissy smell.

    “Swallow my piss now boy, you’re a star, all the other toilet mouths are looking at you pissed off because their not getting it. Ha Ha pissed off, no pun intended eh cunt.”

    Once again he filled my mouth with the warm, salty brew having me swallow on his command. I was as hot as I had ever been with my face in a man’s urinal and mouth open. “Well pig, I guess we both know what you are now eh.”

    The next morning my place in this “new” world was explained by a club member who was temporarily assigned to oversee my training when John was called away. He said, “OK slave normally I will just sit on the side of the bed and you’ll put my cock in your mouth and drink my morning piss. But for today since you’re still in training we’ll go into the toilet.”

    Master started walking to the bathroom and I crawled behind until Master was standing upright at the toilet bowl. He told me to reach my hands around and hold his cock for him while he pissed into the toilet. I easily put my hands up and held his amazing cock while he pissed. Just as he was about to finish and was getting to the last few drops he stopped, brushed my hands aside and turned around. “Slave, open up your mouth for me” I quickly opened my mouth. He positioned his half hard cock in my mouth and released the ending stream of piss.

    “Ok boy, get used to that taste. That’s the piss of a real man.”

    “Yes Master thank you for the gift that has come from your cock.”

    He then slapped his cock around my face splashing and marking my face with the last few bits of pee that hung on the piss slit of his Master cock.

    “Next time slave you’ll get it right from the tap; I’ll piss the entire amount into your toilet mouth. I’m not going to spend a lot of time training you to drink my piss. It’ll be the main drink you have throughout the day so you might as well get used to it right off the bat and right from the bat.” Master smiled at his little inside joke.

    So now I knew that every day for the rest of my life except when at work, my day would begin by drinking the piss of one of my Masters. Although we had never discussed this during my online introduction, I was very excited about starting my day this way and should probably been ashamed at finding it exciting but actually I was more proud than ashamed. This treatment was extra humiliating to me for it fulfilled a need I had.

    The next day I was consigned to training Master to further my training. I was shocked when he told me he was going to teach me to suck his ass. I thought to myself that I wasn’t going to do that no matter what! Yet here I was kneeling on the cold tile floor as he told me what to expect.

    “It’ll be a pleasure teaching you how to suck and lick a man’s asshole, it’s an important skill for any cocksucker and extremely pleasurable for your owner. Once you get beyond your initial reluctance and inhibitions you’ll love performing this service. I think its best that we’re alone for your first time, nice and private. The bathroom is a very erotic place for most cocksuckers and I bet it’s the same for you. It’s a room for the most personal of acts and your licking my ass for me certainly qualifies.”

    I felt him watching me trembling on my knees. The training Master turned around and straddled my head, facing my feet. His ass was now over my face instead of his cock and balls, which were dangling just out of reach of my mouth. I looked up as his ass hovered over my face.

    “You’re going to love this boy,” Ted said. His balls were hanging just inches away from my chin as he spread his ass-cheeks. I was fascinated and yet appalled as he spread his ass cheeks. His deep dark ass-crack opened and the fine hairs separated around his asshole. The puckered shit-hole was a light brown with just a fringe of hair around it.

    I could see how tightly closed his asshole was, clenched comfortably shut. As I gazed at it his hole clenched tighter then let go. I gasped, almost expecting a turd dropping on my face. Instead, the hole relaxed and opened slightly. I began to smell his fragrance. The smell was primitive, a man’s smell. I could smell and feel the power in him. The smell between a man’s legs was becoming more familiar to me by the minute.

    I heard him speaking in the background, “Boy, take a good look at my asshole, imagine how it will taste on your tongue, look carefully and think only about pleasuring my hole. After you lick up and down the crack of my ass start licking around the rim of my asshole. Use your tongue lightly, not too hard. Lightly, remember that. Then flick your tongue back and forth over it before you tongue fuck it. Now, start licking my ass crack, take a little taste.”

    I inhaled deeply as his ass lowered slowly until the top of his crack was right over my mouth. “Go on, put out your tongue like I told you.” My tongue snaked out, the warm, salty taste of ass-flesh seared my tongue. It was a taste like none I had ever encountered. Somehow the warmth of his ass-crack felt somehow comforting on my tongue as I cautiously licked a small area. His ass-flesh was smooth and soft I noted.

    The taste wasn’t unpleasant but when I thought of his brown shit-hole farther down I shivered. My tongue went to work moving slowly back and forth as Ted began raising his ass into the air. My tongue was getting closer to his hole. His ass-cheeks deepened. I couldn’t help it, I screamed out, “Noooo, I-I cant do it Sir.”

    Look boy, you heard what I said. You’re going to learn how to please a man’s asshole whether you like it or not. In any case I’ll enjoy it. Do you need to be forced to serve like a new slave or do you want to become the eager cocksucker you know you were born to be, your choice.”

    I very tentatively snaked my tongue into his crack, not happy but resigned to obey him. I soon was darting the tip of my tongue around his

    asshole. The taste was bittersweet and burned my tongue a little. I swirled my tongue lightly as I had been instructed. Around and around the puckered, crinkled rim I licked, He arched his back and planted his ass ever more firmly firmly on my mouth. My tongue slid up and down over his brown shit hole and I could feel his soft, sensitive asshole flesh quiver slightly with pleasure. I was sucking and licking ass now like I was born to it.

    “That’s it boy, slide your tongue inside, work it from side to side to get it in.” I did as I was told, stiffened my tongue and pushed against his asshole. I could feel his hole relax and open. My tongue found the center and swirled in probing in and out of his asshole. “That’s it boy, clean out my hole.” As I licked his ass the excitement of what I was doing worked on my mind. The aroma between his legs was hot, a man’s smell. No matter how much the idea had repulsed me at first I found that the more I tongued his asshole, the more turned on I got; I think it was the shear nastiness of it all.

    He abruptly turned over and motioned me to lick his balls. “Good boy, You’ve learned your first lesson pretty well but there are still a few things you need to know. The first is that your owners will usually be using your tongue as my toilet paper, it’s so much warmer and softer. Also from now on whenever anyone enters or leaves a room you’re to be on your knees at the door. It’s a measure of respect and admiration for whomever it may be that lets you use your mouth between their legs, do you understand?”

    “Yes Sir, I understand” I said as he patted me on the head like you would pat a prized pet.

    The next day I was assigned to what the club referred to as “General Service duty.” I knelt in the club’s common area as members drank and watched sports on TV. My job had been well explained and I was alert and eager for my first task in service to the members. It wasn’t long until an older man summoned me to his chair.

    “Urinal boy, crawl over here.” Getting quickly onto my hands and knees I quickly crawled over in front of the Master’s chair. I opened my mouth wide just as I had been instructed, fully prepared to serve as a urinal. The Master ignored me kneeling there with my mouth open and continued conversing with the women sitting next to him. He finally said “OK boy get to it, I need to piss” He opened his lounging robe and simply pulled my face into his crotch laying his cock on the flat of my tongue. My instructions had been to keep my mouth open until the piss stream started so I waited, slack jawed as the two of them watched me. The club member was deliberately waiting knowing that making a slave wait for His piss increased the humiliation inherent in the act. Finally unable to wait any longer he released his stream of piss into my mouth, his urinal’s mouth. I closed my lips around the cockhead to form a seal and gulping rapidly, tried to swallow it down. I felt the warm liquid fill my mouth and as I had been taught looked him in the eye as my mouth filled and I flushed / gulped his warm piss down my gullet. It was humiliating and exciting to serve as a urinal. It was my place!


    If you like this story and would like to converse about new story lines or your thoughts and experiences send me an e-mail. I welcome erotic E-mail questions and conversation. E-mail me @ [email protected] and list story review in the title line.

  • The Cell

    I awake to Kenji ontop of me. His smell is intoxicating the musky man smell. His muscular body pressed against mine, Im at first confused, but remember the night before and I wait for him to say something, but he’s silent. As he continues to pin me down, I can feel his hot breath on my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His rough hands explore my body, eliciting moans from my lips. I can’t resist his dominating presence, even though I know I should.

    His lips move in to meet mine and I succumb to his passionate kiss. Our tongues tangle, our breathing quickens, and I can feel the heat of desire between us. His hands continue to roam over my body, exciting me in a way I never thought possible. With each touch, my longing for him grows, until I finally surrender completely. I’m lost in the pleasure of the moment, as Kenji takes me further and further away from reality.

    I can feel my heart racing as I succumb to his passionate embrace. Our movements become more passionate and intense, and I can feel the electricity between us pulsing with each touch. I know I should put a stop to this, but I can’t resist the lure of his body against mine. I feel a wave of pleasure crashing over me, until it finally overwhelms my senses, and I am left in complete bliss. Kenji and I are lost in the moment, and for now, nothing else matters.

    I can feel my anticipation increasing as his finger slides off my shorts. His strong, muscular body is pressed behind me, and I can feel the heat of his desire radiating against me. His erection brushes against my entrance, begging for release from its confines. I can barely contain my pleasure as he slowly lowers himself onto me, finally pushing in and filling me with pleasure. With each thrust, I can feel myself drawn deeper into the world of pleasure Kenji has created for us.

    I can feel Kenji’s large and hairy body on top of me, his muscular frame pressing me into the bed. His hair is coarse against my skin, and his warm breath brushes against my neck as he moves faster, driving me closer to pleasure with every thrust. His weight feels comforting and arousing at the same time, and the sensations are overwhelming in the best way possible.

    I can feel Kenji’s warm breath on my neck as he slowly whispers in my ear. His voice is husky and seductive, and it sends shivers up my spine. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, sending a wave of pleasure through me. His hands grip my hips tightly, as he whispers words of desire into my ear. His words awaken something primal in me, and I find myself wanting him more and more with each passing second. “Let me give you pleasure,” he breathes against my skin, and I know I can’t resist him any longer.

    “What do you want to do to me?” I ask.

    “I want to ravage you,” Kenji whispers into my ear, his voice filled with desire. “I want to make you mine until I can no longer stand it, to use your body until there’s nothing left of you.” His words cause a wave of pleasure to wash over me, and I can feel myself yearning for him to take me. His hands wander my body with a fervor, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of pleasure. I know I can trust him with my body, and I let my reservations fade away as I lay back and surrender to his tantalizing touch.

    I let out a gasp of pleasure as Kenji reaches around and gently squeezes my pecs, teasing my nipples with his strong fingers. His hands continue to roam my body, eliciting more gasps of pleasure from my lips. Suddenly, he takes his fingers and forces them into my mouth, and I’m overwhelmed by the sensation. His taste is sweet and musky, and my tongue eagerly wraps around his fingers. He continues to move his fingers expertly, pushing me closer and closer to an euphoric climax, until I’m left trembling in his embrace.

    I can feel his fingers in my mouth and his hard dick inside me, pushing me to new heights of pleasure. His thrusts are rough and passionate, sending waves of pleasure radiating through my body. I can feel the intensity growing with each movement, driving me closer and closer to orgasm. His fingers expertly move in and out of my mouth, teasing and tantalizing me into a state of pure bliss. My senses are overloaded with pleasure as he continues to ravage me, until finally I’m overcome with an intense wave of pleasure that consumes my entire being.

    I can feel Kenji’s pleasure radiating off his body as he uses me for his pleasure. His movements become increasingly passionate and intense, and I can feel him push himself further into me with each thrust. His breath comes in ragged gasps and his hands grip my hips tightly, as if unable to control himself. With each thrust, I can feel him grow closer and closer to his own climax, until finally, he explodes within me, sending a ripple of pleasure through both of our bodies. I can feel his pleasure deep within me, and I revel in the sensation of knowing that I have given him such intense pleasure.

    Kenji’s voice is low and husky as he speaks to me, his words filled with pleasure. “I can feel my seed filling you up,” he murmurs, as he slowly moves his dick in and out of me. His movements are slow and languid as I can feel the heat of his cum inside me, and a soft moan escapes my lips. I can feel my orgasm building up as he continues to thrust, and I can hear the wetness of our combined pleasure with every movement. His words become more provocative, and I can feel myself being taken away by the intensity of the moment.

    Kenji takes one of his hands and firmly grips my throbbing cock, slowly stroking it with tantalizing circles. His other hand takes his cum-filled fingers and shoves it into my mouth, and I can feel the warmth of his pleasure as it slides down my throat. The taste is sweet and musky, combined with the intense sensation of his fingers inside me, pushing me closer and closer to orgasm. His voice is low and commanding as he tells me to cum for him, and I can feel my body tensing up with anticipation. With his expert touch, my orgasm quickly builds until I am left shaking with pleasure, and I am filled with the exquisite satisfaction of knowing I have given Kenji exactly what he wanted.

    Once I have reached my climax, Kenji slowly begins to withdraw from me. I sit there in the cell, my body still trembling with pleasure and my senses filled with the musky smell of our combined pleasure. His seed is dripping out of my hole, a reminder of the intensity and bliss we just experienced together. I’m left feeling empty, but also content in the knowledge that I have been able to satisfy Kenji in a way only I can. I sit there, hot and naked, in silent contemplation until I am eventually filled with shame and confusion. The cell door is locked and I have no clothes.

    I can feel my heart pounding as I realize the consequences of my actions. I’m left feeling exposed and vulnerable, but also strangely satisfied. I know I should be ashamed of myself, but I can’t help the feeling of satisfaction that comes from knowing I have pleased Kenji so completely. I sit there in the cell for what seems like hours, just contemplating the intensity of our encounter, until eventually I come to terms with what happened and accept it for what it was—a heated and passionate moment between two lovers.