Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Our Papa, Our Pimp By Antonio Green antoniogreen@writeme.com

   M+/b+, prostitution, anal, oral, ws, nc, forced, cbt, bdsm, enema
(incidental), scat (mild, implied)

   This story is entirely fiction.  It will contain scenes of sexual acts
between men and boys and between boys and boys, some rough and/or abusive.
It will also contain some scenes involving urination, If reading this type
of story is illegal where you reside, or if you are under the age of
majority where you reside, or if anything in this story offends you DO NOT
READ THIS STORY.

   However, if you enjoy reading a well-written story of this type and it's
legal to do so, enjoy!

   One more thing: Please do NOT print this story out on a public computer
(like in the library).  If you do, take it with you!

   Synopsis: Bothers Brayden (12) and Riley (9) "help" their papa Bill
Allred (30s) and uncle Tony Allred improve their quality of life through
prostitution.  In this chapter we find out more about Brayden's scout
friend Taylor (17) and his special birthday gift.

   Chapter 5: Riley Becomes a Scout

   From Chapter 4:

   The movie of me and my second trip to the Scout House comes to an end.
Just then Riley walks into the basement playroom.  He's wearing a blue Cub
Scout uniform.  It's different from the one I got to wear when I first
joined BSA.  This one looks just like a real Cub Scout uniform.  Papa
tosses me a legit khaki Scout shirt.  There are real ranks and badges on
it. Gone are the ranks I worked so hard to earn.

   "What's going on?" I ask Papa.

   "You're going to get Riley started as a Boy Slut Scout," he tells me. 
"Only it's going to be a little different than you got."

   I'm scared.  For the first time since my second trip to the Scout House,
I'm scared for me...and especially for Riley.

   Now on to Chapter 5:

   I can tell Riley's trying to be brave.  When he does that, he screws up
his little face and squeezes his lips really tight.  He's doing that now,
but there are tears in his wide, green eyes.

   He looks at me and says, barely loud enough for me to hear, "Don't let
them hurt me.  Not like they did you.  Please."

   I wish there was something I could say.  No, fuck that.  I wish there
was something I could do.  But I can't.  Papa's made his mind up.  I just
hope it won't be so bad.

   "Don't worry, dude," I say, ruffling his strawberry blond hair.  "It
wasn't as bad for me as it looked that first time.  Actually I liked it. 
And I was like four months younger than you."

   I'm trying to buck him up, but everything I say is making me feel worse.
Riley's not like me.  I like when stuff hurts.  He doesn't.  Not at all. 
He likes it when I poke his rear, but I'm small down there.  Three teeny,
skinny inches and I'm real gentle.  I know this day was coming, so I've
tried to use bigger stuff in him.  Biggest thing he gets in him are candles
and hot dogs.  I know they hurt a little, but Riley bulls it through.

   First time with the hot dogs they broke before I could get them in him
at first.  But he kept trying because he loved eating them out of me and he
wanted to feed me the same way.  Fuck it tasted so nasty and so good that
first time.

   But bigger stuff, like some of the dildos and vibrators.  He canNOT take
them.  He just screams for me to take them out if I get very much in.  I so
fucking love my little fairy brother.  I don't want to see him hurt today.
I know Papa promised he wasn't going to get fucked.  Just me.  But I know
better.

   So we're really quiet in the van going to the Scout House.  Just Papa's
going this time and that's not so good.  Uncle Tony kinda keeps Papa in
check.  When Uncle Tony's not around, sometimes Papa gets a little wild
with me.  I don't know what's going to happen, but Riley and me both sense
it won't be good.  Finally we pull up to the gate of the Scout House.  It
swings open automatically and Papa drives to the front door.

   "This is it, Riley-boy," I say and kiss him on the cheek.  He's never
been here before, but he's gotta know this is the Scout House.  I've talked
about it enough.  And the little dude is really, really smart.  Smarter
than me, and my teachers all say I'm the smartest boy they've ever known.
Wait'll they meet Riley.  Anyways, he's so smart there's no way I can try
to make him feel okay.  He's been silent crying.  No sobs but his cheeks
are totally wet.

   Papa opens the door and yanks him out.

   "What the fucks wrong with you, ya little faggot?" he snarls.

   Riley just shivers then pukes.  Barely misses Papa's shoe.  Fuck!  That
would have been bad.  Bad enough as it is.  Papa squeezes this place in the
back of his neck that hurts like hot fuck and kind of paralyzes you.  Only
it doesn't leave a mark.

   Just then the door opens and Taylor's there.  Taylor!  He's wearing this
sexy, girly Japanese kimono.  I haven't seen him for like four months. 
He's been away in Europe or someplace.  Scout Master Chris said he was
having a special operation or something.  Seeing him makes me forget I'm
scared for a second and I hug him tight.  Then we kiss like old lovers --
tongue, spit, even a few hocked up loogies.

   "Sweety," he lisps, "I have missed you soooo much.  I just got back a
week ago and I begged Daddy to have you come over.  But he said you'd be
here today.  So I had to wait to see you and to show you my surprise."

   Taylor looks over at Riley.

   "Oh, what a pretty little boy.  How old are you deary?  You look about 5
years old"

   Riley snarls, "I'm 9." The tears make it hard for him to talk, but you
can tell Taylor's pissed him off.  I think it's kind of cool that I look
younger than my 12 years.  Riley hates that he looks so young.

   Taylor takes his hand.  "Well don't cry, big boy.  I think you're going
to like today."

I scowl at Taylor.  For all his prancing and
girly acting, he's always been completely up front with me.  I can't
believe he's lying to Riley.  He says quietly to me, "It's going to be
okay. Nothing rough.  No fucking, even."

   So Papa was telling the truth this time.  For once.  I'm glad for Riley,
but a little disappointed for me.  I haven't been rough fucked for four
days since the last time Papa and three clients played out a rape fantasy
on our living room floor.  Papa knew it I was play acting but the clients
thought it was for real.

   I screamed and thrashed about then.  Got whipped for my efforts.  I know
Riley was watching from the peek hole.  Watched me get knocked around and
slapped.  My balls and dick tortured and poked with needles.  Watched me
deep throat the men.  And lick their dirty, shitty asses and clean their
dirty shitty cocks after they raped me.  Watched me go through I don't know
how many dry, body shaking orgasms as they hurt me.

   Funny thing is, Riley hates pain.  But he knows I love it.  He loves me
almost as much as I love him, so when I'm getting hurt, he sometimes cums
without even touching himself.  He won't do it himself.  Hurt me that is.
One time I begged him to pierce my scrotum.  He was crying so hard he
couldn't see.  He got the needle about a half inch in and accidentally
poked it in my right ball.  FUCK that hurt.  I screamed.  He puked.  I
cummed like a motherfucker from the pain.

   So anyways, I didn't want Riley to get hurt today like I thought he was
going to, but I was kind of hoping I would.  But now Taylor's telling me
it's going to be a soft time.  That's what we call it when the clients only
want jacking or sucking or when they want us to play hard with them but
they don't play hard with us.

   Taylor leads Riley with one hand and me with the other through the door.
It's that big that three of us can go though side by side.  He turns
slightly and, releasing my hand, blows a kiss toward my Papa.

   "You can come back in about five hours and pick them up, Mr.  Hunky. 
See you then."

   Wow.  Maybe this will be good time for Riley.

   Taylor grabs my hand again and just about drags us to a room I'd never
been in before.  Not that I've been in many rooms.  The house is huge and
I'm not sure how many rooms it really has.  Taylor says 23, not counting
bathrooms.  I've been in maybe seven.  No make that eight.  Well nine
including the big meeting room down in the basement where I started out. 
Two of the rooms I've been in are "special rooms." One of them's called the
"Red Room." It's a special torture room.  And if you think what I got the
second time I was here was torture, you don't have any idea how rough it
gets.  Or how rough I can take.  I like it too, although sometimes I'm not
sure I do when it's going on.

   The other room is the "Brown Room." Poop stuff goes on down there.  It's
all tiled and can easily be hosed down.  From what I've said before, you
might guess I like it down there.  A lot.  Maybe I'll tell you about it
someday.  I'd like that.  You can always write me if you want me to tell
you about the Brown Room.

   The other rooms I've been in are regular bedrooms.  Well, not regular
for you and me.  They're really fancy.  I've been in those tons of times
with clients.  Big comfy beds where five people can sleep.  Spa.  Showers.
Lots of toys and I do not mean teddy bears.  Different lube stuff.  Food.
Drinks.  And drugs.  Lots of different types of drugs.  The only ones me
and the other boys can take are Cialis, E, and a new one like E that's
really strong but doesn't hook you.

   But we're not headed to any of those rooms right now.  Or the Big
Meeting Room.  Instead, Taylor bursts through a door into what looks like
an office.  Scout Master Chris is sitting at a desk.  A bunch of boys --
seven in all -- are sitting in chairs around the walls.  I know three of
them: Dom Scout David who's 16 now.  Markie, who's 10 and sweet as fuck.  I
so fucking love him and still call him "Little Fuck" even though he's not
that little anymore.  In fact, he's almost as tall as me and his dick is
way bigger.  And there's Donnie, my Pee Boy Donnie.
The three of us made a special friendship after they took part in my
first torture session.  I love them all so much.  Almost as much as the
mincing, flitting 17 year old who's dancing around the room in his Japanese

robe.

   "Daddy.  Daddy.  Let me show Brayden the present you gave me," he
whines. "After that, you can do your silly scout stuff.  Pleeeeeease,
Daddy."

   "Do you want to see his special gift, Brayden?" Scout Master Chris asks
me.

   "Yes, Daddy.  I'd love that," I tell him.

   Okay, so I call him "Daddy." When I first started with the Boy Slut
Scouts, I thought my Papa really loved me only just didn't show it very
well.  I know Uncle Tony does, but he's a weak ass motherfucker.  But now I
know Papa doesn't give a shit about me or Riley.  I've kind of gotten used
to it, but it bothers me about Riley.  All Papa cares about is the money I
bring in.  My ass.  My dick.  My mouth.  My screams.  That's all he cares
about.  He doesn't even fuck me that much anymore.  He gets his choice of
kids in the scouts so long as he doesn't do mean stuff to them.

   So one time about a year ago when this shit finally made sense, Scout
Master Chris was fucking me slow and easy, kissing me.  Jacking me at the
same time.  (Papa never does that).  And I started bawling.  He finally got
me to tell him what was wrong.  That Papa didn't give a shit about me.  He
said he knew.  Then he started fucking me really hard.  Twisted my tits, my
balls, my dick.  Really pounded me with that huge cock of his.

   I'm screaming because it hurts so much and hurts so good.  I start
shivering and jerking and over my screams and my dry cum I can hear him
saying, "Brayden.  Brayden.  Brayden." Every word punctuated with a deep
ass slam.  "I love you so much.  Have since I first met you.  I'm your
Daddy.  I'll be your Daddy as long as you want."

   He stated squirting in me, twisting my tiny dickie and balls so hard I
thought he might rip them off.  For real.  That would have been okay.  I
was crying at that point.  Muttering, "I love you too, Daddy.  I love you
too."

   So my Daddy, Scout Master Chris, smiles at me and the other boys.  It's
funny, but Scout Master Chris has a way of communicating with us boys
without saying a word.  All the boys nod in agreement.  Dancing sexy-like,
Taylor unties his kimono.  He's got a long silk scarf wrapped around his
middle almost to his knees.  It covers up his penis.  He's wiggling his
hips so the scarf is dancing just like him.  I can see something poking out
the scarf really low down when his hips push forward.  He unties the scarf
and holds it in front of himself then quickly moves it away then pulls it
back again.

   I can't believe what I'm seeing!

   When I first met Taylor, I was surprised at how long and thin his cock
was.  When it was hard, it was six and a half inches and about as thick as
a regular sized Sharpie marker.  Thicker than my dickie but not by much. 
As long and skinny as it was, it was both funny and awesome looking.

   What I saw now, though.  There was no way this was for real.  All us
boys were chattering about what we saw.

   "This is where I have been the last four months.  This was Daddy's
special present to me for when I turned 17.  I'm a miracle of modern
plastic surgery.  Isn't it beautiful?"

   Taylor stood before us with the longest fucking dick I've ever seen. 
And I've seen some pretty long ones.

   "How long is it?" David asks the question we all had.

   "The surgeons said it's eleven inches, but I measure it at a little over
12.  So does Daddy and some of his friends.  Of course when the surgeons
measured it, it wasn't hard."

   "That thing can get hard?" David asks.  ""won't it just snap off if it's
hard?"

   Taylor starts rubbing his "present" slowly and lovingly.  It starts
getting firmer looking as it begins stretching a little more -- if that was
even possible.  The reason David's wondering about Taylor getting a boner
is that his dick isn't like any I've ever seen.  I'm sure none of us have
seen a dick like his.  You see, it maybe the longest dick I've seen, and I
don't call it a cock for good reason.  A cock should be big and fat.  A
man's cock.

   Taylor's dick is anything but a man's cock.  Sure, it's almost 12 inches
long.  But it's the same skinny size it was before he got his surgery on
it. No thicker than a normal Sharpie marker.  It looks like a big, wiggly,
foot-long worm.  But that's not the only freaky thing about it.  His dick
head is as big as my Uncle Tony's.  Not monstrous like his Daddy's, but a
good normal man-sized cockhead.  Freaky, kind of ugly looking.  The whole
thing is.  This now super hard rod that looks like twelve inches of rebar
topped with a man's cockhead.  Freaky, kind of ugly, yes.  But I'm panting
it's making me so horny to see it.

   And to show exactly how long the freaky thing is, Taylor sits down,
leans over, and starts sucking it -- a good three inches.  No problem.  He
pulls his head up a bit so we can see the tip of his dick head.  He waits a
moment and then a quick spurt of liquid.  Cum?  I don't have time to ask
when the spurt turns into a spray then a flow.

   Taylor wraps his lips around himself as he pisses into his mouth.  His
cheeks fill slightly and he beckons to me.  I come to him, press my lips
against his, and taste his warm, salty, bitter piss as he pushes it into my
mouth.  Normally we swap piss but as soon as he's emptied his mouth in
mine, he squeezes my lips shut and pulls away.

   "Swallow it, Honey.  That's funny.  Swallow my honey, Honey," he laughs.
"When you are done, I want you to lick and bathe my testicles and scrotum."

   I've always loved Taylor's piss.  I've been drinking it for 3 years now
and it ranges in flavor from tasting like warm water to stinking, nasty
bitterness.  A lot depends on what he's been eating and drinking or what
drugs he's been doing.  There've been times when he's downed a ton of
EcstasyPlus and I haven't had any.  I drink his piss and I'm flying almost
as much as he does.

   I think this is one of those days cuz his piss is really bitter and
nasty.  Now you might not like that.  Drinking bitter, nasty piss.  But
I've been drinking it for so long -- my own, Riley's, my Papa's and Uncle
Tony's, my Scout Masters and clients and the other Scouts.  I'm just a
nasty piss drinker.  I love the stuff.  Almost as much as I like it even
nastier.  Like the Brown Room.  But I won't tell you about that now because
I know some of the guys reading about me don't like that.

   Well, I barely get his foul piss swallowed than I get the beginnings of
the "I love everything" feeling.  And my little man hardens even more than
it was.  Oh yeah.  E-Plus and a boner pill.  My head's starting to grow big
feeling then I remember Taylor wants me licking his balls and sack.

   Last time I saw Taylor -- right before his trip to Europe to get his
special surgery -- he had me lick him down there.  I always enjoyed it
because his balls were so small for a big kid.  His Daddy had been
torturing them for so long and giving Taylor special meds that they were
like little shriveled up, dried peas.  They were so weird it made me hot to
suck `em in my mouth.  His sack wasn't that big, but with those tiny
nuggets it seemed huge.

   By now the hard rebar cock has softened and is now a long, skinny piece
of tubing.  Like the stuff we use in my science class.  I kneel down to get
to his wrecked jewels.  Nothing!  Absolutely nothing.  All that's left is a
four inch scar mark where Taylor's sack used to be.  Taylor giggles like
the girl he is.

   "Daddy gave me everything I wanted, Sweetheart," he laughed.  "He had
the surgeons take my testicles and scrotum away.  Would you like to hear
all about it?" I nod in awe.  Taylor takes his skinny tubing and starts
swinging it around.

   "You have no idea how good that feels, Mon Ami.  It is like nothing I
had ever felt before.  I will tell you everything about the new me if you
do me a favor." I nod eagerly.  I know the tale will be as odd as Taylor,
but I want to hear it.

   Taylor stops swinging his tube around and places its head in my hand.

   "I can do this myself, Sweety.  But I want you to do it.  Please insert
my new, super glans into my rectum by way of my anal sphincter."

   I ask him, "So you want me to put your own dick head up your own
asshole?"

   "Oh my.  You have always been such a gauche little boy.  If you must be
that way, then shove my motherfucking cockhead into my putrid shit hole! 
Are you happy with my gross language?"

   I'm laughing hard, hard enough that I loose a little bladder control. 
Not much, just enough to make a small wet spot on my khaki pants, a spot
that nobody in the room misses seeing.  And laughing at.

   I slip Taylor's hose between his legs and using my middle finger force
the man-sized cockhead through his asshole.  I don't need to be told.  I
keep pushing as much of his freaky dick in until it's stretched tight
across Taylor's taint.  It's still soft but it's gotten a little chubby.  I
can see the urethra on the bottom vibrate and I touch it with a feather's
touch.  I know what he's doing!

   "You're pissing in your own shit hole, Dude." I'm trying to be as gross
as he is elegant and sissy in the way he talks.

   "Yes.  As you say, I am pissing in my own shit hole.  But if you do not
choose to speak like a little gentleman, I will not let you have any."

   "Okay, Mr.  Dude, sir.  You're urinating into your rectum with your very
own penis.  Dude!  You're fucking yourself.  Tell me.  Tell me.  Please!"

   At this point my hand isn't the only one feeling Taylor's piss flowing
through his hose-like dick.  Riley and two other boys gently touch the
distended piss tube which is more noticeable on the freakishly thin penis.

   "Daddy?" Taylor asks his father.  "Tell them all the lovely details,
please."

   "Gladly, son.  Long story or short story," he asks us boys.  We all
agree to hear the long story.

   "Taylor is my son by a lesbian friend.  I wanted a son because I love
boys and thought raising one would be an enriching experience.  I had no
intention of having any sexual relations with him -- or other boys for that
matter.  I'd masturbate to boy porn but felt I'd never become involved with
a boy sexually.

   "Taylor changed all that.  I pretty much kept to my word right after he
was born except for deciding to raise him as a nudist.  I kept him naked
much of the time and just cleaned any pee or poop.  His mother breast fed
him, and I loved watching him suckle her naked.  He'd always get a tiny
infant boner when he did.  Mari -- that's his mother's name -- showed me
how much little boys love having their pee-pees stimulated while the
suckled.  She brought BabyTaylor to his first orgasm when he was a week
old. She encouraged me to try it as well.  Because of my proclivities --
that means how I felt about little boys -- I was afraid to start anything
like that.

   "Then, when he was about 2 months old, Baby Taylor got colicky right
after he was fed.  Mari couldn't stop his crying and told me it was my duty
as a daddy to make him feel better.  I reached for his little lump of a
penis to rub it but she stopped me.  `Suck it,' she said.  I took a deep
breath and gave my precious son his first blow job.  He stopped crying and
orgasmed almost immediately.

   "I couldn't stop.  I sucked my little guy several times a day, every
day. Often he rewarded me with his urine.  One day when he was around a
year old, I'd put him down for a nap.  Normally he'd sleep for a couple of
hours, then wake up crying.  I'd bottle feed him while suckling his
pee-pee. This time, though, he didn't cry when I expected him to.  So I
went into his room.  I couldn't believe what I saw.  He was lying on his
back -- in a puddle of pee, I might add -- pushing his rattle in and out of
his little baby poop hole.  He was as stiff as a two-penny nail and about
the same length.  He was cooing and giggling as he fucked himself with his
toy.  I stood there for at least a half hour.  Every few minutes, his body
would shake in orgasm and he'd pee an arc of pee over himself.

   "You can image how hard I was.  Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore.
I stripped out of my clothes, lifted him out of his crib -- making sure he
kept his hand on the rattle handle -- and laid him on the floor.  I leaned
over him head to foot and pushed my hard cock through his lips.  He'd
developed some teeth by then of course, so his suckling hurt.  But you boys
don't know this, I like getting as well as giving it.  He was much too
small for me to suck him, but I put my hand over his and proceeded to fuck
him with his rattle as he sucked me, got an orgasm every few minutes, and
sprayed his baby piss all over me, him, and the rug.  Fortunately the pain
of his chewing on my cock was enough to keep me from exploding into his
mouth for a good 15 minutes.

   "Finally, though, I couldn't help it.  I didn't give any thought to
pulling out.  I hadn't had sex with another man for a month and hadn't
jacked off for at least a week.  Taking care of a one-year is tiring.  So I
flooded the poor guy.  He tried to swallow, but gagged, coughed and spit.
My splooge oozed from his little nose.  I picked him up and made sure he
wasn't choking for real.  From that moment, I decided to raise my son how I
really wanted to.  Taylor started toddling over to me, grabbing my dangling
cock, and asking for `Dada baba.  I'd blow off in his mouth once, twice,
three times a day depending.  I sucked him constantly and taught him to
suck without his teeth.  I started finger fucking him and using tiny
dildos, knowing full well what I was prepping him for.

   "I had a young friend, a man of 19 who looked 16, I enjoyed brutal sex
with.  Me giving, of course.  I convinced him first to play out our sexual
games with Taylor watching and eventually -- when Taylor was about 2 -- had
him suck Bryan while I brutally fucked the lad on our living room floor. 
Bryan said he didn't want to do it at first.  But he had a mind shattering
orgasm with me dry fucking him and yanking on his ball stretcher while
Taylor sucked him off.  From that point on, Bryan was a constant
participant."

   By this point in Scout Master Chris's tale, Taylor had finished pissing
up his shit hole.  He pulls me to him and kisses me deeply.

   "Brayden Sweety, do you wish to drink my rectal urine?" I know what he
wants and eagerly nod my head.  All us Scouts are used to doing nasty
things like he's asking.  Some of us even enjoy it.  But I'm the only one
who really loves it.  "I'm sorry, though.  Daddy washed me out earlier when
he and four of his friends cleansed me with their urine and semen.  So it
won't have much flavoring.  Sorry.  Daddy can tell you more while you are
doing it."

   I kneel at his rear hole and gently pull his over-sized dick head out of
his asshole.  A brief squirt wets my face.  I bet you're read some stories
that described boy pee as being sweet or yummy tasting.  It's not.  Never.
It's always a little nasty, sometimes nastier than others.  And piss that's
been up a butt, even if the butt's been hosed out, it always tastes nasty,
kind of fishy.  To be honest, if it tasted good I don't think I'd like it
as much.

   So anyway, I plant my lips at Taylor's bruised, puffy hole -- like it
has been since I've known him.  I poke my tongue in and he lets little
squirts out at a time.  Too much I wouldn't be able to drink it all. 
Taylor knows how to do this.  We've done it since after we met.  Cleaned
out and not cleaned out.  Both of us supplying and drinking.  But this is
the first time I've had Taylor's piss from Taylor's hole.  Riley's kneeling
beside me, face squinched up.  He just doesn't see how I can be so nasty.

   So Taylor's Daddy -- my Daddy and Riley's too since ours turned out to
be such a jerk -- he picks up the story.

   "Some boys," he continues "are just into pain.  I've learned this from
Taylor and my experience with boys over the past 15 years.  I know Brayden
and Markie are like that.  Taylor is and was incredibly anal as well.  He
loved when I'd put sex toys in his rear end.  He'd toddle to the `toy box'
and pick up a dildo or vibrator and bring it to me and ask, `butt game' or
something like that.  That didn't stop him from playing on his own, though.
I don't think there was a smallish toy he didn't push up his pooter.  I was
constantly washing his poop off them.

   "So one day when Taylor was about four and a half, I was putting Bryan
through some particularly nasty cock and ball tortures.  Taylor had been
watching me do this sort of thing with numerous victims for quite a while,
but Bryan was one of his favorites.  I had put his balls into a ball vice
and shoved a huge electro-stim dildo into the young man's ass hole and an
electro-sound down his piss hole.  I turned up the current abruptly -- no
slow increase to get him used to it -- and Bryan was twitching and yelling.


   The next thing I know Taylor's beside me yanking on my hand.  `Do me,
Daddy,' he's crying.  He's got one of the sounds inserted fully into his
urethra.  Well, there was no way I would electro-stim such a small boy, but
the vision of this not quite five year old with a metal rod stuck in his
inch and a half penis was enough to bring both Bryan and me over the edge.

   "It was obvious from that moment that Taylor not only liked anal
stimulation, he was a little pain freak.  About a year later, I was fixing
dinner and I heard Taylor shrieking horridly from one of our bathrooms.  I
ran as fast as I could and when I got there I was shocked.  This little
almost-six year old was seated naked on the toilet, bawling and screaming.
Tears poured down his face.  I was about to rush to him but for some reason
I stopped to look for a moment.  Taylor had a double ball vise -- you know
the kind that squeezes both balls between two pieces of plastic at the same
time -- attached to his little pearls.  His little pecker was as hard as
I'd ever seen it.

   "At first I thought he'd put it on imitating what I did with Bryan and
had accidentally twisted the vise.  But no, he sat there, screaming,
crying, and dry heaving, deliberately twisting the vise slowly tighter and
tighter.  I yelled for him to stop but he didn't.  Instead, he twisted the
handle at least a full turn.  I swear I could hear a snapping sound.  I
guess that final, ball crushing squeeze -- that and having Daddy there to
see him -- pushed Taylor over the edge.  He started jerking wildly, so hard
he fell off the toilet onto the floor.  I was sure he was seizing.  But his
pee-pee was spewing little boy pee, something he did and still does every
time he cums.

   "It wasn't a seizure.  I could tell because through the cries and
grunts, Taylor was begging me `Hurt me, Daddy.  Hurt me.' I couldn't refuse
his pleas.  I walked over to him and pressed the toe of my shoe firmly into
his penis and testicles.  That sent him into another cum pounding him right
on top of the previous one.  It was so strong, the little tyke passed out.

   "I love my boy and I didn't want to hurt him permanently -- just to hurt
him.  So I released my toe and let him fall asleep on the floor in his
puddle of piddle.  Later that afternoon, I took Taylor to a doctor I knew
who would be discreet.  We'd shared a number of young boys throughout the
years, boys running from 7 to early teens.  Not not only vanilla sex.  We'd
gotten pretty rough with some of the older boys, those 8 and above.  So, he
knew my perverse pleasures.

   "He checked Taylor's little nuts and pee pipe.  I'd asked him to speak
in front of Taylor since my boy tested as a genius early in his life and
could understand what was being said.  He said the balls hadn't been badly
damaged but warned Taylor that if he kept it up, he would destroy them.  If
that happened, he advised, Taylor wouldn't go into puberty.  Taylor knew
what puberty was and as soon as the doctor gave him the news, he grabbed
his little, bruised scrotum, twisted it, squeezing his little pearls as
hard as his little hands could manage.  My doctor friend rapidly pulled
Taylor's hands away.  I asked my little boy if he did want to destroy his
nuts.  He did.  He didn't want to get hairy and smelly, he said.

   "I asked if he wanted to be a little girl instead of a little boy.  He'd
been girly since he was very young, so I wondered if he was really
transgender.  `No way,' my little boy said.  He told me he loved his
peepee. He told me he wanted it to be as long as an elephants trunk but he
didn't care if he smashed up his balls and never got hairy or cummy.

   "So he and I worked toward his goal.  I -- and a very small group of
very good friends -- tortured my poor little baby's testicles.  They were
pretty much useless by the time he was 10.  I also gave him the same
suppression shots Riley and Brayden are getting.  Just in case."

   By the time he says this, I've finished drinking Taylor's `rectal
urination' as he put it.  Riley and I stare at Scout Master Chris.

   "What'd ya mean, suppression shots?" I snap.

   "Sorry guys," Scout Master Chris said.  "I thought you knew.  You and
some of the other scouts get shots that keep you from going through
puberty. Keeps you yummier for the clients.

   I wasn't sure how I felt about that.  I mean, how would you feel if you
were me?  Papa and Uncle Tony had said the shots were a special booster to
keep us healthy when we did the sex stuff.  I like not shooting sperms yet.
But part of me wants to become a real teen.  And part of me doesn't.  Guess
I'll have to talk to Uncle Tony when I get home.  No use talking to Papa,
though.

   Scout Master Chris continues, "So in addition to the suppression shots,
we gave Taylor shots that kept the corpus spongiosum growing longer while
inhibiting the growth of the corpus cavernosum.  This had the effect of
giving Taylor the long, skinny prick he's had since he was around 12.  It's
what Taylor said he wanted from that eventful visit to the doctor.  He
wanted it even longer, but the shots had done all that they could.

   "Shortly before his 17th birthday, I gave my boy what he'd been begging
for.  We went to a surgeon in Barcelona who does a large number of sex
reassignment surgeries -- turns men into women and women into men.  Using
some discarded penile tissue, he reconstructed my boy's long, skinny penis
into the freak show you see before you.  But don't get me wrong, I love it.
The doctors did a great job.  I love how my girly boy plays with it, how he
pushes it up his own pussy and other boys' pussies as well.

   "But enough about Taylor's new toy.  Let's talk about the new direction
we're going to go today.

   "You see, I want our troupe to be a real Boy Scout Troupe.  Of course
there's a lot we can't let the big organization know about, but this way we
have greater reach -- both in terms of clients and boys.  So today you
young men are going to sell Boy Scout gift wrapping door to door.  This is
why you're wearing standard Scout uniforms.  Each of you will also wear a
pin that for a few select men will identify you as "special Scouts," ones
who will go the extra mile, so to speak, for a man's deeper needs.

   "If one of your customers says exactly these words `My, but the Boy
Scouts are recruiting some fine, young men,' you are to show him a good
time.  But, there is no anal today.  Only hand jobs and sucking.  And no
darker games either.  No pain.  Got that, Brayden?  Even if he wants it and
you want it, not today."

   "How come?" I ask.

   "There's not enough time.  And, I want Riley to like our version of the
Scouts.  I don't want him to be scared, hurt, or made to feel
uncomfortable. Understand?"

   I do understand.  And now I rally understand how careful Scout Master
Chris and the other Scout Masters are with us.  When I was raped the first
time and tortured the second, they really knew who I was.  What I wanted.
Needed.  Maybe Riley can learn to like being hurt.  Maybe even being the
one who does the hurting.  That's be cool.  I love that.  And I know he'll
get fucked.  But not today.

   ======

   I can tell you, my brain is spinning.  Riley and me are standing in
front of what I heard Uncle Tony call a McMansion.  We live in a pretty
nice house since I started selling myself in the Boy Sluts.  But nothing
like this.

   This whole entire bunch of houses is inside fences.  Scout Master Nick
calls it a gated community.  Guess they want to keep low lifes like me and
Riley out.  Nick's drops us off with the catalog of wrapping paper and
order forms.  He tells us he'll be back in four to five hours and to sell
as much of the paper as we can.

   Riley's nervous cuz he knows we'll do more than just sell wrapping
paper. But I make him feel better telling him he'll like it since there's
no real butt stuff and from what Scout Master Tim said, we'll only have a
couple or five of the sex stops.

   Which seems true.  We've already been to twelve houses and twelve of
them ordered wrapping paper.  Funny, though, they were all men and if you
asked me to bet, I'd bet they were all gay men.  But real nice.  We even
got tips and cookies.  Sweet.

   I ring the next doorbell.  A man wearing only bright pink Speedos
answers.  You know what?  He should NOT wear them.  He's got more flab
hanging over the waist band than I've seen in a log time.  He looks at us
and smiles.

   "My, but the Boy Scouts are recruiting some fine, young men," he says.
Then you won't believe it.  He wiggles out of the Speedos and stands there
naked.  Out in public!  With a fat, yummy looking uncut dick dangling
between his legs.  Looks a good 5 or 6 inches soft.  Riley gasps.

   "Don't worry, my loves.  Nobody can see you here.I understand you are
going to make me feel really good." He hefts his cock and waggles it at us.
"I want the little one to do me in front.  You, big boy, my asshole needs a
good big boy tongue bath."

   Riley doesn't look too happy about what he's gotta do, but I know he
knows he's gotta do it.  He kneels in front of the stranger, grabs the
slowly inflating cock, and kisses the tip.  I've seen him do this many
times with Papa and Uncle Tony.  And with a few of our friends and of
course with me.  But this is the first time with any other grown ups.  He
squinches his face up, pulls away, and spits.  The man grabs Riley's head
and pushes it hard against the tip.

   "No, no, little one.  This is what I paid for.  For a little faggot boy
to eat my cock cheese and suck my cock and swallow my cum.  You
understand?"

   It looks to me like he's squeezing Riley's head pretty hard and Riley
starts licking the smegma out of the man's thick foreskin.  It looks like
my brother's going to puke.  But he keeps doing it.  He's tasted Papa and
Uncle Tony's head cheese a lot before, and it never really bothered him. 
So this must be really rank.

   "You gotta love my cock cheese, boy.  `ve been letting it ripen for four
days.  And you there," he says grabbing my shoulder, "get to work on my
asshole."

   I scuttle around to the back and pull his fat ass cheeks apart.  Whew!
Nasty, stinky, sweaty.  Obviously he didn't wipe since the last time he
went.  Now I'm glad I got this assignment.  Poor Riley would have
definitely puked.  Me?  I like it.  I spend a good amount of time cleaning
him up.  He's moaning and breathing hard.

   I hear Riley gag and stop for a moment.  The man's no longer soft.  His
cock is now super hard and a good halfway down poor Ry-Ry's throat.  Papa
rough fucks his throat a lot, but Riley still gags.  He's turning sort of
blue-pink so I'm afraid he may faint from lack of oxygen.  I'd love to
watch, but I got a job to do.  I dive back into the cleft of fat and start
tongue fucking the nasty hole.  I slip my pointer finger in beside my
tongue and find the man's prostate.  WOW!  It's huge.  I start poking at it
and now the man's thrusting his hips back and forth.  I can't see it but I
know he's fucking Riley's throat.  Hard.  I can hear Riley gasping for
breath and then gagging.  Gasping for breath.  Gagging.

   The man starts yelling, "Mother fucking shit licking little slut.  You
sure know how to eat out an ass."

   The way he's moving, the way his asshole's twitching and spasming, I
know he's cumming.  Finally the man drops to his knees, hard for a man his
size.  He's pulled Riley down with him by my brother's beautiful strawberry
blond hair.  Cum is oozing out of Riley's nose.  Some has dripped on his
shirt.

   "Almost done, sweetheart," the man says.  "I got one more thing to give
you to thank you for the blow job." I know what he's going to do and crawl
quickly to Riley's side.

   "No, mister, please.  He doesn't deserve it.  I did the best job.  Let
me have it.  PLEASE!"

   The man pulls his cock from Riley's mouth and shoves it roughly between
my lips.  In a flash, he's spewing rotten, rancid, asparagus piss into my
mouth.  God how I love it.  How good it is.  How nasty.  Putrid.  I gulp as
fast as I can until the flow slows and eventually stops.  I wanted it all,
but some leaked out of my mouth.  My front is spattered.  And smells like,
well, like piss.

   I look at Riley's shirt and mine.  The man senses my problem.  He smiles
sweetly, not like the brute who mouth-raped my little brother.

   "Don't worry about how you look.  If you look at your route list, you
have five more houses.  We're all expecting something more than just
wrapping paper.  So a little cum, a little piss.  Who's to care?"

   The man is right.  Riley and me visit five more houses and each one is
one of our special customers.  We don't make any money on them, but I know
the Scouts are getting their share.  All the remaining men are nicer than
the first man.  And as Scout Master Chris promised, no butt stuff.  I'm
kind of sorry because my hole is itching for some abuse by the time we're
walking away from our last house.  We're on our way to outside the gates so
we can meet up with Scout Master Nick.  We pass a house that wasn't on our
list and the door opens.  Two men in jeans and shirts wave to us.

   "Hey, boys.  Come here." When we get onto the door stoop, one man gives
the pass phrase.  I guess Scout Master Chris or Nick made a mistake and
forgot to put this house on the list.  I smile and nudge Riley.  He smiles,
too.  We move closer.

   "Hello sirs," I say.  "What can we do for you."

   In an instant, one of the men grabs me and drags me into this big fancy
house.  I hear Riley shriek like he does in bad dreams.  I turn around and
see the other man dragging my brother in, his hands clamped securely on
Riley's junk.  From the way Riley's screaming, I know his nuts are being
crushed.

   I struggle to get away.  The man holding me does nothing but squeeze my
arm tightly.

   "Listen, boy.  The more your fight, the worse it gets for the little
shit-ass of a brother.  Understand?"

   The other man lifts Riley off his feet by the iron grip he's got on
Riley's crotch.  I can't believe what I'm seeing.  He's twisting and
jerking my little brother around in the air by his balls.

   "Please, Brayden.  Do as he says.  Please.  He's killing me.  They're
going to rip them off.  Please."

   I stop fighting and drop to my knees.

   "Please let my brother go," I plead.  "Please."

   The man holding Riley drops him onto the floor.  Riley gasps and fights
for air.  I rush to him and he seems okay except that the drop knocked the
air out of him.

   I look at the two men, "Scout Master Chris said there wouldn't be any
rough stuff not with Riley.  And no fucking neither.  Do me but leave Riley
alone.  Scout Master Chris promised."

   Just then two other me walk in.  They're completely nude.  And heavily
tatted all over their bodies.  Neither is hard but they've both got
substantial dangles.  Not as big as Scout Master Chris, but bigger than
Papa or Uncle Tony.

   The biggest of the new guys walks over to me, grabs me by my chin and
makes me look up at him.  He hocks deep into his throat and spits right on
my face.

   "This Scout Master Chris dude is a pussy, you know," he says.  "And he
don't got nothing to do with you from now on.  You two little cunts are
mine and my friends.  I paid for you both.  Fair and square.  You're mine.
We'll do what we want with you over the next five days because that's what
I paid for.  And I didn't guarantee your old man I'd bring either of you
back alive.  So you both better be good.  Got it?"

   Riley's whimpering on the floor.  He's pissed himself.  And he'd
probably have done more if he hadn't been cleaned out.  Fuck!  I have to
fight back my own piss.  I won't give `em the pleasure.  But I know our
hell -- Riley's and mine -- is just starting.