Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 6: Descent into Shit Hell/Shit Heaven

   This chapter is dedicated to Queer4Life and Ready4Anything.  You know
why!

   My apologies for taking so long to get this out.  I had real world work
and then the encryption software I was using "took a dump" and I lost my
almost finished Chapter 6.  But this new one is better.  And dirtier.

   From Chapter 5:

   Once his orgasm passed, Dieter stood abruptly up, ripping his cock out
of Marky's hole and dislodging Donny.  He turned around holding Hunter's
turd firmly.  The boys watched and cheered as Dieter took the monster turd
and jammed it into Marky's bloody shit hole.  Already stretched, bruised
and bleeding from the brutal assault by the boy he'd thought of as `the
nice one,' Marky let out a wail that could be heard outside the barn.  This
was all the encouragement Dieter needed.  He squatted his ass right over
Marky's wide-open mouth and pushed the turd steadily and roughly into the
tyke's rectum.  Once it was all the way in, he relaxed his sphincter and
let go.

   Right then Matt scooted quickly between Marky's legs and jammed his cock
in for a fast, furious fuck.  He couldn't believe how intense everything
felt: His hard, hard cock stabbing against the fat turd inside their little
victim, pushing it further and further into his colon.  The stink of
Dieter's shit and the Marky's gagging and choking on the piss and shit
surging from Dieter's ass.  His own need to take a monster dump.  Matt
hadn't been sure that raping a little five-year old would be much fun.  But
now...now he wanted the day to go on forever and he wondered what would be
next in their descent into hell.

   Now onto Chapter 6

   Squatting over Marky's head, Dieter bent forward and watched between his
legs as his rectum unloaded its contents on the little rape victims face.
Deep brown, inch thick, semisoft shit snakes rushed from his hole and
curled on the white, freckled skin of the frightened, screaming redhead. 
It piled up, covering Marky's mouth, nose, and eyes.  The pile of shit
effectively muffled the little boy's screams.  But the screams did not
stop. Dieter knew that the steaming, hot, stinking shit had to be making
its way into the boy's mouth as he screamed.

   A small part of Dieter hated the depravity into which he had descended.
The biggest part -- the part that secretly loved nasty, filthy shit play,
the part fueled by Ecstasy and Cialis -- reveled in what he was doing.  His
boner had softened after he jizzed up Marky's shitter, but it hardened
quickly as he shoved Hunter's monster turd into Marky's rectum.  And now
knowing that his crap, his dookie, his poopoo, his caca, his shit was
forcing its way into the little faggot's mouth made his boner harder than
he could ever remember it being.  It pushed almost painfully through his
foreskin.  His cock felt like it would burst apart.  He couldn't believe
the person -- the vicious, shit-loving rapist -- he'd become.  A squiggle
of guilt -- like the last squiggle of shit he forced from his asshole --
started to surface.  Dieter quickly pushed it down.  He loved what he was
doing.  He loved who he'd become.

   His bowels momentarily quieted, Dieter moved away from Marky's face and
knelt beside the boy to view his handiwork.  Once he knew the abduction,
rape, and defilement of the little boy was definitely taking place on
Friday, Dieter held off shitting since he had awakened Tuesday morning. 
He'd gone over three days without moving his bowels in spite of the
occasional cramping and discomfort he felt.  He loved the feeling from what
he now called ╥shit stuffing.╙

   Of the six members of the Little Boy Rapists Club, Dieter the one who
always showed disdain when they turned to shit play among themselves.  He
would let them know how much he disliked this type of play.  He said he did
it only because he was part of the club.  And he never engaged in anything
really messy.  Truth be told, Dieter was probably the filthiest and
messiest of all the boys when it came to shit play.  Except he had only
ever done it by himself in the privacy of his own home or secluded
backyard.

   Briefly, Dieter thought back to when he'd first shit-stuffed and
followed it with shit play.  Only in those days -- back when he was 10 --
he called it ╥poopoo stuffing╙ and ╥poopoo play.╙
Even though he tried to convince himself that he was a ╥good
boy,╙ he arranged to do poopoo stuffing almost every time he knew his
mother would be away from the house for at least eight hours.  This gave
him enough time to enjoy nasty play and still have time to clean up
afterward and wash his piss wet and shit filthy clothing.

   The first time he poopoo stuffed, he'd only done it for one day, denying
himself his regular Friday and Saturday bowel movements.  He was 10 at the
time, and he almost didn't make it.  He awakened on Saturday morning with
bad tummy cramps.  For a couple of painful minutes he thought he would poop
himself right in his pajamas in bed.  He took several deep breaths,
squeezed his eyes shut, and concentrated on not letting his bowels loosen.
Fortunately the feeling passed, and he was able to eat his breakfast of
bacon, eggs, toast, cereal, and hot chocolate without pooing or peeing
while he chatted with mommy.

   The breakfast sat heavy in his tummy, but he knew he was only adding to
his poopoo play later.  His tummy fullness, his shriekingly full bladder,
and knowing what he was going to be doing later kept his then tiny penis
hard.  Fortunately, Dieter's boners in those days always stuck straight up
against his tummy so his mommy couldn't see any bulge.  And he kept his
bathrobe tight around him, so she couldn't see the growing wet pee spot on
his PJs.

   Dieter kissed his mommy goodbye and waved as her car drove off that
morning.  This would not be the first time he engaged in poopoo play, but
it was the first time he did it after poopoo stuffing.  The first time he'd
engaged in poopoo play, he held off his first bowel movement until she
left. All he was going to do that time was poop on the bathroom floor.  As
soon as she left, he ran to the bathroom, pulled his PJs down, squatted,
and started pooping.  Just as he felt the poop open his hole up, he heard
his mommy's keys in the door.  He got seated on the toilet a half minute
before his mother walked into the bathroom.  That it taught him to wait at
least until his mother called her little boy to tell him she'd gotten to
work.

   So after his first poopoo stuffing, Dieter waited patiently -- and
painfully -- for her phone call.  He sat on the hard, wooden stool he'd
taken from the kitchen to the living room so he could watch TV while
squeezing his cheeks as tightly as he could.  If he weren't concerned about
his mommy walking in on him, he would have changed into his SpongeBob
SquarePants Underoos and faded blue jeans.  He loved watching those blue
jeans get wet when he held his pee.  But as he waited for her call, he had
to be satisfied with watching the pee spot grow on his dark blue PJ pants.
He didn't pee them on purpose, but his bladder was so full he couldn't hold
off involuntary dribbling or squirting.

   Finally mommy's call came.  She asked him why he was breathless when he
greeted her.  He lied to her and told her that he had just run in from
outside.  In fact the breathlessness came from trying so hard not to poop
or pee himself and because he was changing into the clothing he wanted to
soil while he spoke with he.  As he listened to her warnings about being a
good boy while she was at work, Dieter finished dressing and pulled the
belt on his jeans painfully tight around his tummy.  While still chatting
with her, he let go a good spray of pee.  He wanted badly to sigh in
relief, but he resisted the urge.

   As soon as he hung up, he knew he would poop really soon.  He didn't
want to do it in the hallway by the phone just in case it was really soft
and gooshed down his legs.  He walked to the bathroom as quickly as he
could, stiff-legged, pressing his cheeks closed with both hands.  He
climbed in the tub and faced the wall-length mirror on the opposite wall.
He stood there for a moment enjoying the nasty discomfort he was feeling:
the tummy cramps, the burningly full bladder, the extreme pressure against
his poopoo hole.  Then he let his bladder loose.  He watched in the mirror
as his pee bubbled out from the faded denim.  It darkened the front and
spread down his right leg.  He adjusted his tiny boner -- he could pee when
hard in those pre-pubescent days -- so the jeans would be equally wet down
both legs.  His pee seemed to go on forever and formed a deep yellow puddle
in the bottom of the tub.

   As he peed, the accumulated poop inside his rectum pushed against his
poohole and started making its journey outward.  Dieter had classified his
poops for many years.  He called the soft, clingy poops that needed much
butt wiping ╥gooey-pooey.╙ The poop that exited quickly and
piled up in the toilet (or on the floor when he did it that way) he called
╥poopoo snakes.╙ And the firm, round, and solid poops were
╥poopoo logs.╙ He knew he was making a poopoo log this time. 
He was disappointed because he'd hoped for something messier after poopoo
stuffing.  But it still felt good knowing that he was soiling himself like
a big baby.  He turned around and watched over his shoulder as the log
slowly exited, stretching his hole and pushing the seat of his Underoos
downward.

   When Dieter made poopoo logs, they were almost always very firm and very
long.  One time when mommy was downstairs he pulled one out of the toilet
water and carried it to his room.  He measured it with the ruler he kept in
his desk.  It was 8 inches long.  Just as he was about to return to the
bathroom, he could hear his mother climbing the stairs to his room.  He hid
log in the back of his closet and had to return it to the toilet several
hours later after dinner.  So as Dieter stood in the tub watching his
poopoo log push out the seat of his underpants, he knew it would break.  He
didn't want that to happen, so he pulled his pants down mid-thigh and
watched as the chocolate brown log oozed slowly from his asshole and
dropped to his Underoos.

   The log hurt as it pushed through Dieter's poohole.  But it was a good
hurt, and it made Dieter's one-inch boner even harder.  Not wanting the
poopoo log to break, Dieter grabbed it just as it exited his rectum
completely.  Still watching the tableau over his shoulder in the mirror,
Dieter carefully lifted the turd out of the seat of his Underoos.  He
looked at it with pride.  It was huge.  This log was the biggest he'd ever
made.  Up until this time, all of his poopoo logs were firm and knobby just
like this one but they were rounded at the leading end but tapered at the
back end, squished as Dieter's asshole squeezed the last of the turd out.
This one was different.  This log was rounded on both ends.  The boy
pirouetted gracefully to face the mirror.  He lifted the turd log from his
rear and presented it ceremoniously to his reflection in the mirror.  He
examined it closely.  The backend had a small squiggle of light brown poo
hanging on it.

   Dieter's mommy had told him several times about his eating his poop when
he was a little, tiny boy.  She even told him about one time when she came
into his bedroom and he had put his little poop balls into the smokestack
of his toy train engine.  But Dieter hadn't stopped there.  He'd put a poop
ball up each nostril and was chewing delightedly on the golf ball sized
poopoo he'd pulled from his underpants.  In retelling the story, his mommy
would remind him that what he had done was not bad.  But you told him many
times eating poopoo was unhealthy.

   So over the ensuing years, Dieter refrained from eating his poopoo. 
Looking at the monster poop log he held in his hands, Dieter was tempted to
break his poop fast.  Part of him badly wanted to take a bite of it.  To
chew it up just like you done when he was a toddler.  He brought the poop
log to his mouth.  He took a deep breath.  Surprisingly it didn't smell
that much.  But he could not take that much-wanted bite.  Instead he kissed
the end.  Not much taste, just a wee bit bitter.  Gaining courage, he
licked the full length of the hard, knobbly poop log, turned it over, and
licked the full length of the other side.  He turned it so the back end --
the part with the soft poo on it -- was directly in front of his mouth.  As
much as he wanted to take a big chomp out of it, he couldn't bring himself
to do it.  Instead, he took a deep breath and licked off the soft poop
dollop stuck to the end.

   Dieter almost spit it out, but he resisted the impulse.  He held it in
his mouth for a couple of seconds.  It tasted bitterer than it had when
he'd simply licked the poop log.  But it didn't really taste bad.  He
swallowed.  Then he opened his mouth as wide as he could and closed his
eyes.

   Numerous times when his mother was not around, Dieter explored websites
he should not have been anywhere near.  They were heterosexual sites.  The
boy knew there was something ╥wrong╙╙ with him.  He liked
boys and not girls, but he didn't really understand what being gay was at
that time and didn't think anybody else felt the same way he did.  So he
didn't search for gay websites.  But what he saw on the heterosexual sites
he fantasized doing with the man.  Particularly taking one of the big,
bulbous, penises into his mouth like the women did.  He imagined the poop
log he held and had posed in front of his mouth was a man's penis.  He knew
the bads word for penis.  Dick.  Cock.  Cock sucker.  That's what he was
going to do right then.

   ╥Let me suck your cock, daddy,╙ he whispered.  He had no
need to whisper of course.  There was no one around to hear him use the bad
words.  Nobody but himself.

   He pushed his own solid, knobbly poopoo log slowly between his lips. 
But it wasn't a poop log.  It was the hard cock of a father he'd never
known.  Of a father he frequently fantasized doing all those bad things to
him he'd seen on the Internet.  To him and not to some woman.  It felt huge
inside his mouth.  He'd seen women taking cocks almost as big as this poop
log all the way into their mouths.  He was determined to do the same, To
see how far in he could push it.

   Dieter had no experience with deep-throating.  As soon as the poop log
touched the back of his mouth, he gagged.

   Dieter thought he would ╥un-swallow,╙ the term his mommy
made him use instead of barf or puke.  He was determined not to.  He pulled
the poop log toward the front of his mouth but left it there.  With his
mouth so full he instinctively took a breath through his nose.  Eyes still
closed, he slowly pushed the poop log back to the rear of his mouth.  He
imagined it was both his daddy's cock and his daddy's poopoo being forced
into his throat somehow at the same time.  This time he only gagged a
little bit when the fetid log hit the back of his mouth.  He held it in
place.  The urge to un-swallow passed.  He pushed a little further on,
getting the poop log past his uvula into the top of his throat.  His gag
reflex took over and he could feel the un-swallow rising from his gullet.

   Somehow what should've been an uncomfortable experience felt wonderful.
But he knew if he un-swallowed, he'd probably not want to continue with his
filthy poopoo play.  Still gagging, he pulled the poop log out of his mouth
and forced the gorge back down.  Just as the urge to un-swallow passed, a
new, even more intense urge hit accompanied by a tummy cramp.  Still
holding monster poop log in his hand, Dieter quickly pulled his underpants
up and turned so his back was facing the mirrors.  It wasn't a matter of
relaxing his sphincter.  His poohole simply opened on its own and a mass of
soft poopoo surged out.  Dieter watched over his shoulder in the mirror as
his sphincter gave way.  His undies ballooned with mass of soft, extremely
smelly poopoo.

   The Underoos' seat quickly darkened from the damp pile of poop.  Dieter
marveled at how much there was.  Then another cramp hit him.  His poop hole
opened once again, adding more messy to his already full underpants.  There
was so much.  The poopoo squished out both leg holes and up the back of the
waistband.  Dieter couldn't believe how nasty he looked.  Nasty and filthy
and shitty.  He let himself think that word, one he never even said among
friends although they sometimes did.

   He glanced down in front of his underpants.  Some of the poopoo had
squished in front and had packed around his very hard, 1-inch boner. 
Dieter hadn't given it a lot of thought to what he would do today during
his poopoo play, but seeing the brown, filthy mess darkening Sponge Bob's
cartoon face, he knew exactly what he wanted to do.  He laid the massive
poopoo log on the side of the tub and carefully stripped his poop-laden
underpants down and off his legs.  He took care to keep as much poop inside
the undies as possible.  He was also careful to make sure that none fell
out of the tub.  Even with his care, Dieter's legs showed brown poop
streaks.

   Dieter studied the messy underpants and then pushed them so the mass of
soft poop touched his nose.  He inhaled deeply.  They stank so beautifully.
He glanced briefly at his reflection.  He had a tiny splotch of poop on the
tip of his nose.  He turned the underpants inside out and let the mass
splat onto the bottom of the tub.  Just as the mass hit the bottom of the
tub, he felt another sudden cramp and need to unload.  He wished he could
see it in the mirror, but he knew he would be risking getting it all over
the place.  So he quickly squatted over his pile and let go.  He didn't
have a lot to contribute this time.  So he strained hard to try to get as
much out as possible.  As he did pissed onto the edge of the pile
underneath him.

   His last effort had been a really sticky, gooey-pooey.  He could feel
some clinging to his poohole.  He liked the way it felt, but he knew if he
left it there very long his hole would itch badly.  He reached between his
legs and wiped sticky mass with two fingers.  He lifted his brown fingers
and examined them closely.  There wasn't much there and he really wanted to
lick his fingers clean.  He wasn't sure if he could do it.  He knew it was
bad.  Nasty.  But he'd already licked poop off the end of his monster log.
He had even put that log in his mouth and sucked pretending it was his
daddy's dinky.  So throwing caution aside he stuck his fingers in his mouth
and sucked the poopoo off.  As he did his boner tightened even more and
demanded attention.  Still sucking his fingers and tasting his poop, he
began rubbing his stiffy.  It felt good but he wanted more.

   He scooted back a bit and lay down, wiggling his boner around into the
pile of poopoo.  Previously he had masturbated many times to the point of
feeling really good.  He'd never had, at least in his memory, a real
orgasm. The smell, the slippery grittiness, and the heavy pressure were all
it took.  The good feeling grew from the tip of his dinky where he was
rubbing up the shaft to engulf his entire one-inch steel-spring hardness.
It gripped his marble sized balls, and traveled to overwhelm his whole
tummy.  He shook with the most fantastic feeling in his dinky had ever
felt.

   He lay facedown in the tub for several minutes thinking that it was time
to clean up.  But he'd had such a good time and everything felt so good and
he loved the way his poopoo smelled.  He didn't want to stop.  His hard
little dinky didn't want to stop either.  Slowly he stood up and looked at
himself in the mirror.  His poo smeared his lower tummy.  Poo completely
covered his still steel hard, filthy dinky.  Feels of disgust, revulsion,
and excitement flooded the then 10-year old boy.  For a brief moment,
Dieter wondered how he could have been so bad, how he could have done
something so horrible, so nasty.  But then the excitement took over.

   ╥You're a nasty, disgusting, poopy poopoo boy,╙ he said to
the reflection in the mirror.  ╥A shitty boy.  A fucking, nasty
shitty boy.╙

   He reached down to the pile of poopoo -- no, he now called it daddy shit
-- and scooped up a handful.  Careful to keep it inside the tub, he rubbed
the daddy shit all over his tummy, chest, thighs, and legs.

   ╥You're even nastier now, little shit boy,╙ he told himself
in a feigned, deep daddy voice.  ╥You love my shit, don't you?╙


   He stared at his reflection for several minutes, rubbing the poopoo
slowly, softly all over his lower half.  He looked fucking awesome he told
himself, daring to use the nastiest of the nasty words he knew.  His brown
smeared torso looked amazing.  He'd wanted to do this in his darkest dreams
since he could remember.  But one thing was missing.

   Dieter leaned down and scooped up most of the remaining poop from the
bottom of the tub and divided it between his hands.  Clamping his eyes
shut, he pushed his face down into the stinking, soft mass.  He
straightened up, face still pressed into hands and rubbed the shit all over
his face, neck, ears, and arms.  He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.

   The sight before him took his breath away.  His own nasty, filthy,
stinking shit -- daddy shit -- covered him head to toe.  His white blond
hair was only unsullied part of his reflection.  He carefully leaned down
and scooped the remaining poop off the tub and jacked his little one-inch
cocklet frantically.

   ╥Daddy.  Daddy.  Daddy.  I love your poopoo, daddy.  I love your
shit, daddy.  I love you, daddy.  Make me your poopoo shit baby,
daddy.╙

   He picked up the monster poopoo log he'd left on the side of the tub and
without giving any thought to what he was doing, pushed it roughly into his
poohole.  He fucked it in several times in rhythm to his shit jacking.

   ╥Fuck me, daddy,╙ he yelled as loud as he could, knowing no
one could hear him.  ╥Fuck me with your shitty cock.  Fuck me with
you shit log.  Fuck me, daddy.╙ He took the log out and -- still
jacking -- shoved it into his mouth.  He bit off a piece, then pushed the
remainder back into his hole.

   ╥Fuck me daddy fuck me daddy fuck me daddy fuck me daddy daddy
daddy daddy daddy daddy fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me.╙ With each
word he chewed and swallowed more and more shit in his mouth.

   The feeling engulfing Dieter forced him to his knees.  It was even
longer and stronger than the feeling before.  Once his orgasm had passed,
he lay down in the tub and fell asleep.  When he awoke about ten minutes
later, he stood up and looked himself in the mirror once again.  This time,
no feelings of revulsion.  The boy who looked back at him was the real
Dieter.  He liked what he saw and knew he deserved to be Daddy's poopoo
boy.

   Being a very smart boy, Dieter meticulously washed his hands and feet.
He used a washcloth to dry those parts off.  He carefully climbed out of
the tub and walked slowly around the house to every room, still smeared
with shit.  He had no goal in doing so other than to introduce daddy's
poopoo boy to the rest of his life.  He even walked outside to his secluded
backyard and ran around like a nutty ten-year old.

   Dieter stayed that way until two hours before he knew his mother would
be home.  He carried a large plastic garbage bag with him wherever he went
so he could sit down and not get poo all over the place.

   When the alarm rang two hours before he knew his mother would return, he
got back in the bathtub and reluctantly scrubbed himself off thoroughly. 
He didn't want to.  He wished he could stay this way -- filthy like this --
for his entire life.  As he hosed the last of his shit away, Dieter
imagined what it would be like to go everywhere completely covered in poop.
He thought about sitting in his classroom that way.  Going to the store. 
Playing soccer.  Going to church.

   He knew this can never happen.  This part of his life -- the poopoo play
part -- had to be his deep, dark secret.  And he'd kept it that way until
just now when he had shit on their little victim.

   Dieter looked at the pile of shit snakes on Marky's face.  He lifted
most of the mass off and began rubbing it all over the freckled, tiny body.
Matt, still fucking the tyke madly, helped in Marky's defilement, rubbing
Dieter's shit on the little boy's thighs and tummy as he jabbed into the
tight little boy asshole.  As he did, a cramp overtook him.  He didn't try
to hold back but let three days accumulated shit gush from his hole.

   Matt's ╥almost boyfriend╙ Andrew was watching the filthy
tableau unfold.  He'd been trying to hold his own shit as long as possible
but decided he needed to go ╥right now.╙ And as much as he'd
wanted to rape the little faggot boy, he had a better idea.  As Matt still
fucked Marky, Andrew knelt between his legs, carefully avoiding the pile of
Matt shit.  He scooped up a handful and rubbed it on his 3-1/2 inch boner.
He'd fucked Matt enough to know where to aim without looking.  So as Matt
took an inward plunge in Marky's asshole, Andrew pushed roughly into his
bestest fuck friend.  Knowing how much Matt loved shit play -- just as much
as he did -- he rubbed the shit that remained in his hand all over Matt's
face smearing the 12-year old's camo makeup.

   Matt was in perv heaven: The smell in his nose, the tightness of the
little boy's asshole, knowing that the barrier he kept hitting was Hunter's
monster turd, and being fucked and shit smeared by the boy he loved took
Matt over the edge.  He roughly pulled his dick out of Marky and jacked
himself with his shit-covered hands.  Three squirts of thin, watery cum
spattered Marky's tummy.

   Exhausted from his efforts, Matt rolled out of the way to let his
kinda-lover take his place at the tyke's hole.  Andrew scooted forward on
his knees and poked his pricklet inside the little boy.  As he did, he
leaned down and licked up Matt's watery cum and a substantial amount of
Dieter's shit.  As Andrew felt his cum nearing, he strained his guts and
let his accumulation of three days surge from his asshole.  He knew he was
adding to Matt's pile.  A good soft pile, perfect for poopoo play.

   Donny had given everyone except Hunter stool softener when they began
the final planning for their kidnap and rape.  (Donny had excluded Hunter
because the 12-year old was known for his hard, long turds.  Donny figured
one like that would come in handy.  He was right, too.  And the bonus was
that his rival, goody-goody Dieter, had raped the little victim with
Hunter's monster turd).  Andrew wasn't sure about taking the stool
softener, but it paid off for him -- for all of them.  He loved playing
with soft poop.

   An intense dry cum shook Andrew.  It might have been the Ecstasy.  Or it
might've been the shear nastiness of what was happening.  But this was the
most intense cum he'd ever had.  It felt almost like this 3-1/2 incher
would turn inside out.

   As Andrew knelt there catching his breath, his still hard penis lodged
inside Marky, he did what he always did after cumming.  He pissed.  And
even though he'd already pissed once, it was a torrent.  (Lasix and beer do
wonders!) When he was done, he rolled over to join his lover -- for that's
how he now felt about Matt thanks to the Ecstasy.  At that point he noticed
that Marky was screaming.  In fact, Andrew now realized, the little brat
had been screaming for a long time.  But the piss inside him was the
topper. The thick, long turd in his rectum was causing a great deal of
pain. Andrew's piss multiplied that pain and cramped him viciously.

   Marky strained to get rid of the cramping.  A gush of piss surged from
his reddened asshole.  Then Hunter's monster log flew out, making Marky
scream even louder as it tore through his hole.  The turd embedded itself
in the pile of shit Matt and Andrew had left.

   Donny had been watching, enjoying the nasty turn of events.  He'd hoped
to maintain more control, but it looked like everyone was doing what he'd
hoped they would.  Even squeaky-clean Dieter.  Donny knew that with
Dieter's open shit play, Donny was now the leader.  He was in control.  To
show that control, he knelt next to Marky and pinched his ball-less little
dicky as hard as he could with his fingernails.

   ╥Hey guys, it's time for a break.  I wanna hear how Dieter got so
nasty so fast.╙

   Dieter laughed.  ╥And I want to know how you got so mean and so
nasty in 10 years.╙

   ╥Well, you first, my friend,╙ Donny said.  ╥Let's do
it here with Marky-fag in the middle.  Peter, go get the rubber bands.  And
Hunter, your hands are still clean.  Could you get my iPad and put it in
the waterproof case and bring it to me?  Please, sweety?╙

   TO BE CONTINUED

   [WRITE ME!  antoniogreen@writeme.com

   Authors love to hear how people respond to their stories.  Let me know
what you think about this chapter.  (Good or bad.) Next chapter will be
less filthy but more brutal.  Plus, we get to learn more about Donny's
induction in perversity.]