Into this story I have poured my malice, my evil, my darkness. I leave the stain of these traits onto this story, and thus hope to cleanse my soul. This is a side-follow-on-story to Quantum Singularity part 1. It details Ernesto's pursuits. Since English is not my first language there might be miss written segments. Please feel free to send contributions and comments to thetruexenos@yahoo.com I would be interested in your feedback First person through out the tale is Ernesto Begin. I was driving down the street thinking about Lorenzo's call the day before. Using a set of words and cue signals that we had agreed to among ourselves, he had alerted me that he had found another boy for us. Lorenzo had proven very resourceful at finding, and "acquiring" these boys. As was customary, and to keep good security, we did not exchange any traceable details over the phone. From the few details that we did exchange, it sounded like this time around he had found a particularly good specimen. He had mentioned that there might be a few things that we wanted to try with the subject. Lorenzo and I had been working on our "project" for over a decade now. Ours was a partnership which had proven very fruitful and successful. Our success was due in no small part to our attention to detail, security, and discreteness. The security and secrecy was well warranted because our venture consisted of the sexual use and torture of young male teenagers, followed by their “disposal”. The disposal of the subjects, had at first been problematic, but the disposal process, I found out, was highly arousing part of the project, and had for me at least become the focus of our activities together. I kept meticulous records of our subjects, often reliving our actions with them in my head, and often ejaculating copiously at the thought of what I had done, or what I wanted to try next. It had been now 54 subjects, mostly during the summers, when kids were out of school and accessible for “acquisition”. Each year we got better at it too. Whereas when we started we were lucky to take in one kid a year, we had now managed to do one a month. In fact the summer had not arrived yet, and we had already enjoyed the company of 3 kids: Francisco, Manuel, and Julio. Julio, the last kid to be “processed” might still be alive right now. The thought of checking on him excited me, plus I must confess I wanted to see what Lorenzo had come up with. Though he did not give any details on the phone, his voice did have a certain tenor of excitement. I found a rare parking spot in the street, and moved quickly to park. Got out of the car, locked it, and walked in the nearby corner's cafe bar. I ordered a coffee and a tapa of chorizo with cheese. The bar was empty except for a couple having coffee together in the table next to the window. Convinced that I would have some privacy by the payphone in the back, I walked to the pay phone inserted four coins in the phone and dialed Lorenzo’s number. The phone rang multiple times, and I began to fear that I would not get Lorenzo. Just as I was considering hanging up, Lorenzo answered. I began by using my code word for all clear on my side, go ahead and speak. Lorenzo responded with his all clear to talk code. This meant that we were both in a place were we could speak with out fear of being listened in or being traced to us. The conversation went on for about 10 minutes, and the jest of it was this. The new subject’s name was Javier. He was older than what we were used to, an almost 16 year old. He was one of the star soccer players at his school, and as such he had a well developed body. Lorenzo mentioned the fact that he knew how much I liked a muscular youth. Lorenzo had already begun breaking the boy, and was in the process of using him even as we spoke. I told Lorenzo that I was in luck as I had planned to take the coming week off from the clinic. I had though about looking for boys myself, but now, one was available. I let Lorenzo know that I would head there that afternoon, and that I would bring supplies. I hang up the phone, and went back for my coffee and tapa. I sipped the coffee slowly, thinking of what I needed to do before going over to Lorenzo's. I could not avoid having a smile in my face as I relished for a few minutes the possibilities in front of me. It was mid morning on Friday, and thought that if I left towards the mountains now, I would avoid most of the weekend traffic. I sprang into action. I paid for the coffee and tapa, leaving an average tip for the bartender, so as to not stick out either as a miser or an exceptional tipper. I stepped outside, got in my car, and drove to my flat. Once there, I picked up my suitcase, plus supplies and a few specialty items meant for Javier. I took my stuff out to the car, and drove on to the autovia del noroeste, towards the mountains. The first 60 km were a breeze, with highway driving. However as I took secondary roads, and then finally tertiary roads for the last 20 km or so, the driving got slower and trickier as I had to travel increasingly narrower and windy roads. Lorenzo’s driveway was almost hidden from view, protected by forest and bush, the narrow gap between the trees was just wide enough to let the car through. About 30 meters in, I had to go step out of the car to open a locked metal gate which protected the place from unwanted visitors. After driving the car inside the gate, I got out again, and closed it behind the car, making sure that the lock was once again secured. Ten minutes later I stopped the car in front of our chalet. I pressed the remote opener and the garage door began to open. Lorenzo’s car, a brown Citroen, was already parked there. That car had brought so many boys here now, I though, that it should receive a namesake for that. While thinking this, and I must confess full of anticipation, I got out of the car, took my suitcase and the other bag with supplies, closed the car door and walked in the house through the garage. Once inside I pressed the garage switch again, and the garage door began to close behind me. I walked up the stairs to the main floor, and deposited the supply bag in the kitchen counter. I began unpacking the supplies, and cleaning the kitchen some. Obviously Lorenzo had been too busy to clean the kitchen. A messy kitchen was something which was very uncharacteristic of him. I chucked it to the fact that Lorenzo knew that once I arrived, I would take my share of the boy. Even down here I could use the muffled sounds of Lorenzo doing something to the boy. I felt bad about the fact that I had kind of overused the last couple of boys, and I made a mental note to make sure that Lorenzo would have a better than 50/50 with this one. Once the supplies were put away, I went one more level to my bedroom, and I placed my small suitcase on the bed. I had most of what I needed here, but I always liked to bring a few things with me anyway. As I was doing this I heard Lorenzo come down the stairs from the attic. We met in the hall and greeted each other with a gentle and warm embrace. It was good to see him. I looked at him, and could tell by his facial expression that he was really excited. Lorenzo told me how wonderful the boy was and beckoned me to come upstairs and see for myself. I smiled, and agreed. I certainly wanted to see the latest catch. Lorenzo had already had him for 2 days, and the boy was now totally aware that he was staying with us against his will. This was a pity, because one of the thing I liked doing was slowly tricking the boys into giving up control, and the promise of taking them home was a good bargaining chip. I had expected that this would not work with an older boy, especially one that had already been here for so long. The younger boys, specially the ones under 13 could be tricked to amazing lengths. In fact, one of this springs’s subjects, a young 13 year old, had not caught onto what was about to happen to him until after we had started impaling him. That boy’s body, or rather what was left of his body, was still up in the mountain spot we called the killing field. I came up to the attic with Lorenzo. The attic was one big room, except for some bedrooms on one end. There was Javier in all his glory. The boy, had already been stripped of all his clothing, and Lorenzo was in the process of inflicting his favorite tortures at will. My dick stirred as I heard Lorenzo's description of what he had done so far. Right away, I took notice that that Lorenzo had not overdone his superlatives. The boy was truly superb and very muscular for his age. A set of well defined muscular legs came to a narrow waste, which flared back up to muscular shoulders and back. His endowment was also very generous, and his face vas easy on the eyes. Lorenzo had the boy with his hands tied overhead, forcing the boy to stand up on the ball of his feet. Lorenzo had also placed opaque swimming goggles over the boy’s eyes. It was obvious that a whipping session had been underway before my arrival. I stepped up to the boy, and placed my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beating furiously. I passed my hands down his exposed body, feeling his smooth well tanned skin. The boy had a thin bush of pubic hair over his above average endowment, which was highlighted by the lack of tanning in the area. I held his manhood, and gently fondled it. I could feel his heart beat and the stirrings of growth due my manipulation. I let go of the boy’s dick, and turned towards Lorenzo. I told him that he could have him the rest of the afternoon, but that tonight I would take my turn with the boy. Lorenzo assented surprised to have the boy the rest of the afternoon. Lorenzo knew full well what my appetites were, and correctly gauged that I would use the boy hard. I had decided to let Lorenzo have his way with Javier the rest of the day to atone for keeping the last two boys mostly to myself, but I also had in mind checking up on Julio, whom we had left up the mountain about 4 days ago. If he was still alive, I could perhaps still inflict some more pain and suffering on him. It was a good motivation for a good hike up the sierra. I went down to my bedroom, and changed clothes and shoes for the hike. My backpack was hanging in the kitchen wall. I placed water and the usual stuff in the pack, to set out to the killing spot. There were always mandatory things to bring up the mountain. One of them was firewood, which we stored on a spot next to the killing field, were we sometimes camped. We also brought with us a few extra water bottles which we would leave up there for later use. The killing field was a spot that Lorenzo and I had found many years back, and had been a clincher behind us buying the property. The only way to access it was by walking up a narrow path surrounded on both sides by steep cliffs; once on the top the steep path gave way to a high flat area, ringed by large rocks. Save by alpine climbing the only way to get to this spot was through our property. The privacy of our property was paramount to us, and it was essential that it be kept free or trespassers. The remoteness of the place, coupled with a happy confluence of geographic features made this possible. On one side of the property, the railway had built a very tall wall to protect the train from falling rocks. The clever use of thorn bushes, walls, cattle, and barbed wire on the other made the place extremely isolated. I set out of the kitchen door at a good pace up the mountain. It normally took an hour and a half to get there, 2 if you were heavily laden, which I was. Though summer had not arrived in the calendar, it was already here. The sun beat down on me as I climbed, making me sweat, and forced me to rest a few times. When I finally got to the camping spot, I slumped down on a sitting rock, and happily dropped the bundle or firewood I had brought with me. It was a true pain to do this, but there were no trees up here, so the firewood had to be brought. I placed my addition to a pile protected from the elements by a shallow cave in the rock wall. Free of my pack, I drank some water, and admired the view, feeling my anticipation build. Would Julio be still alive? Finally, I got up, and walked towards the killing field, which was only a short distance away, around a large set of boulders. Our “boy disposal” method was actually rather simple. At first we had simply tied the boys down to a rock, and let the exposure to the elements or the actions of vermin to kill them, and dispose of the bodies. Through a series of trial and errors, we had refined our immobilization method until we finally came upon the idea of impaling the boy's on metal poles. Once skewered the boys had no place to go, and were easy for the vermin to disposed of them. However we soon began to experiment with ways that allowed the boys to be impaled with out killing them. The pole running through their bodies, combined with well placed ligatures immobilized the boys, and made it possible to deliver additional torture and suffering. For one thing, boys could remain alive for quite a while their life was slowly taken away by exposure, insects, and vermin. My favorite thing about the act of impaling the boys was the face of surprise and disbelief they had as the blunt tipped rod that we used smoothly tore through their bodies. We had impaled Julio about 5 days ago. He had not been an exception to this. Just like all the other recent visitors to this spot, we had stripped Julio naked except for the tight underwear we forced him to wear, blind folded him, placed him on tall foot rests, and then carefully skewered him. It was surprisingly difficult to impale a boy the way we wanted. We did not wish to damage any of the internal organs, nor cause massive blood loss. If done properly, other than a minor amount of bleeding at the entry and exit points of the pole, no fatal damage was done to the boy. I rounded the last boulder and Julio's body came into view. He was as we had left him; at the bottom of the slab with the metal pole through his body, protruding through the bottom of his mouth, forcing his head back, and forced to look straight up. Julio had been further immobilized by tying the feet, and hands together behind his back. Julio’s ligatures forced his upper legs to point straight down, so that his knees were the only part of his body touching the ground. He was kept upright by the metal pole. Julio’s only attire consisted of two items, the tight navy blue Speedos that he had unwittingly chosen for himself, and a thick leather collar around the neck. One of things that I liked about the boys being forced to wear tight underwear during their final ordeal is that if they had to pee, or take a dump, they were forced to go on themselves. If the boys were so unlucky, and most all of them were, as to have to take a shit after being impaled, they were rewarded by attracting vermin, and multitudes of insects towards themselves. I also liked it because it added one more dimension of humiliation to the boy’s experience. In the slab next to Julio you could see the effects of both vermin and insects. The skeletal remains of Julio’s predecessor, Manuel, could be seen. The skeleton was still tied and bound in the same manner, and except for having a different color of underwear on, you could have taken it to be an X-Ray of Julio’s current position. I came up to Julio and knelt besides him. My professional habit as a doctor forced me to check his condition and asses his state. Julio was still alive, but unconscious, and by the look of him I doubted he would regain consciousness if he received no aid, especially water. Surprisingly, it was dehydration that killed the impaled boys more than anything else. Exposure and vermin attacks were the minority of the causes. As I thought about these things while next to Julio, I noticed flies buzzing all around the boy looking for a nice moist place to place egg. His mouth, forced open by the metal pole was fly heaven. Looking around the boy, I noticed that he had a lump between his butt cheeks, proving that he had pooped in his Speedos. I toyed with the idea of prolonging Julio's suffering by giving him water. Giving the boy a good drink of water might let him live another day, perhaps 2. The question is why would I do that? I thought about it for a while, and decided that it would be deliciously wicked if Julio should be still alive when we brought Javier up here. The perverseness of forcing the boys to see what was being done to each other turned me on immediately. Julio would get to see Javier get impaled, plus what we did to him AND Javier would get to see Julio die. The only problem with the plan was that I did not know if Julio would last long enough. It would be at a minimum 2 days before we would bring Javier up here; would Julio last that long? I decided to leave it to chance, and taking a coin out of my pocket, I tossed it in the air, choosing heads for Julio's life extension. The brat got lucky, or unlucky depending on how you thought about it. I would try to help him live a few more days. That off course did not mean that I would take it easy on him. I slapped his cheek firmly, brining him out of his unconscious state. His eyes opened slowly, dazed and exhausted. Then he passed out again. I slapped him harder this time, bringing him back, forcing him to look around confused for a few seconds as he fought to remember where he was. When he finally remembered, he tried to jerk away from me, only to found out his state of bondage. Julio breathed in deeply emitting a rasp, then coughed, as he inhaled a few of the many flies that had invaded his exposed mouth. The breathing and coughing went on for a little while, until he settled down. Julio then emitted a faint unintelligible moan. I approached my ear towards his mouth, and heard the moan again, which turned out to be a nearly unintelligible plea for water. I had expected as much. I stood up, opened my fly, and began to urinate into his mouth. He took the liquid gladly and desperately drank my piss in an effort to quench his thirst. I found it amusing that the kid so desperately wanted my piss now. I stopped and started my stream a few times, to watch the expression of relief as more pee was provided. Once I was done, I zipped up and further assessed the kid's condition. He was running a mild fever, and had sustained sunburn. There was no visible ongoing blood loss between his legs, and it appeared that the boy’s mouth was fighting some infection where the pole had come out. I took a small tube of antibiotic cream, and smeared it on the mouth wound. I knew this would not help the boy much, and if I wanted him to last 2 days he would need substantially more than I had given him so far. I went back to the camp site and retrieved my backpack. Once I was back next to Julio, I took a bottle of coke out of my backpack and opened. Then gently I tipped the open end in Julio’s mouth, and allowed the black liquid to slowly drip down his throat. Over the next hours I both fed the boy coca cola and hydrated the boy with ample water. I knew he was doing ok when I noticed a wet spot form in the front of the boy's underwear, and a small yellow pool formed next to one of his knees. This told me that A: he finally had enough fluids in him to pee, and B: his kidneys were still working. Both of these things bode well for the boy lasting longer. My work here for today was done. The sun was going down, and I wanted to go play with Javier. I took my last bottle of water, and emptied it quickly in the boy’s mouth. Then I gathered my things, strapped my hiking pack back on, and began my journey down the mountain. The boy started whimpering behind me as I left him behind, they always did that, but as soon as I rounded the corner his whimpers faded and were lost in the wind. The hike downhill was always shorter than the way up, and I was back at the chalet in just a bit over an hour just as the sun was setting. I had used the time to think about what I wanted to do with and to Javier. Now as I came through the kitchen door, I had made my mind up. +++++++++++ +++++++++++ PART 2: Javiers first session with Ernesto +++++++++++ +++++++++++ When I came into the kitchen, I met Lorenzo, who had just finished with the boy. He had him tied up to the post in the attic waiting for me. I felt sexual energy course through my whole body, and my dick was hard, and leaking precum just thinking of the impending torture that I was ready to unleash on the boy. I went to my bedroom, and prepared. I undressed, showered, and put on my favorite jock strap, a pair of socks, and sneakers. I looked myself at the mirror, and stepped out to meet the boy upstairs. He was tied up to the column in the attic wearing only the gray cotton briefs that he had come with. These had been badly stretched and ripped in a number of places by Lorenzo, but as I had instructed him, he had not taken them off. I could readily admire the fact that Javier was a startlingly attractive boy. Though Javier was only 15 going on 16, his body displayed my favorite characteristics of boy and man. His body had a manly muscle tone to it, with an upper body that was well proportioned and muscled. His shoulders were well defined, and tapered into a thin waste. His abdomen was smooth, and toned, and all around arousing contours. However, his body still retained boyish attributes. I could tell that he only had a slight amount of body hair in his arm pits and in his pubic area. His chest was well defined, with supple tits, which no doubt would receive some attention from Lorenzo, if they had not already. He was a tasty package, and I prepared to consume it. Lorenzo had completed a whipping session on the boy. He had had his fill with this boy, and he was certainly satisfied. In the kitchen, only a few minutes earlier, he had handed me the whip, and with a hug transferred dominion of the boy over to me. Lorenzo had sure used the boy hard. Even in his tough bound position, he had fallen asleep. I came up to him and woke the boy by grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. He woke slowly and confused, not knowing where he was at first. As soon as he came to, he began to beg to be let go. I had to slap him a few times until he stopped yammering about being let go. That was just not going to happen. Javier was securely tied to the column in the attic, with his legs securely fasted and both his wrists and elbows pulled above his head as closed as the geometry of the round column allowed. Javier’s naked body was fully exposed to my whim, and I aimed to take advantage of this fact. My first order of business was to shave the boy. Not only was a shaved boy more attractive, but the act of shaving all traces of body hair both robbed the boys of another symbol of manhood, plus it drove home that we were in charge, to include every aspect of his physical appearance. This was just another step in their downward spiral of torture, humiliation, and long drawn out death which we forced on the boys. I took out a few shavers and shaving cream and got to work. First, I used a knife to rip his briefs off him, leaving him totally naked. I placed a towel under the boy, and began to shave him in the front, removing the incipient pubic hair just above Javier’s dick. I took my time, knowing full well that the boy followed my actions in the large mirror on the wall. Little by little, he could see and feel how his genital area was made smooth, like that of a little boy. Once all the pubic hair was done I followed up his nascent treasure trail up to his belly button. This done, I wiped the boy, and passed my hand over, feeling the smooth and bald skin. I moved to the boys arm pits, and there again I slowly robbed the boy of the last of his body hair. When I was done the boy had no hair, except on his head. The boy did not resist any of this, glad to have at least a few minutes rest from beatings, whippings, etc. He looked almost relieved to have switched torturers. He should have known better. I cleaned up the mess from shaving the boy, and moved to the next thing. I picked up a clear plastic bag with a draw string around its mouth. I flapped it up and down a few times to fill it up, and approached the boy. He looked perplexed at me as I approached him. In a smooth move, I placed the bag over its head, and pulled on the drawstring, making an air tight seal. Immediately, the bag began to billow in and out with the boy’s breath. It took a little while, but gradually, the boy began to breathe faster, as he consumed the oxygen in the bag. I approached the boy, and began caressing his hairless genital area. Meanwhile the boy’s breathing quickened even more. The boy began to understand. A thin film of condensation formed on the bag, which was now billowing faster and faster. The bag began to flatten against the boys face when he breathed in, causing distress on the boy, who could not get enough air. The boy began to move his head side to side, so that he could suck more air out of the bag before it stuck to his face. I kept groping the boy’s dick and balls. The boy tried to remain calm, but as he began to struggle with his bonds, in an attempt to remove the bag from his head, he only increased his need for air. The boy was breathing in and out continuously, fouling the air inside the bag faster and faster. The boy’s body flexed in all his glory, showing every muscle on the boy. His diaphragm worked extra hard to pull every last molecule of breathable air from the bag, forcing the bag to flatten against the boy’s face. In the increasingly desperate efforts of the boy to escape the growing asphyxia that I was subjecting him to, he had sprang up a hard on, and now his dick bobbed up and down as he grew hysterical in his quest for breathable air. His efforts which up until now had had coherence to them, broke down, and became just a frantic and uncoordinated set of twitches. The boy was almost to the point of loosing consciousness. With a quick swift motion, I pulled the bag off the boys head. The boy took gulp after gulp of fresh air, slowly calming himself down, hanging limp from his ligatures, as he recovered. He might have through that this particular torture was over, but it was just the first in a long set of cycles of asphyxia that I had lined up for the boy. I flapped the bag a few times, to dry up the condensation, and then I approached the naked exposed boy again. The boy saw what was coming, and tried to resist by moving his head to one side or another, but with the way he was tied up, he did not have a chance. In no time flat, the bag was once again over his head, and the draw string had once again created an air seal around his neck. This time the boy fought to get the bag off his head from the get go, but this futile attempt only used up his air quicker than before, and with in less than 2 minutes, the boy was again struggling for fresh air. The sight of the helpless boy, bound to the column, struggling for something as basic as air, denied to him at my whim was incredibly arousing. The fact that I could come up to him, and grope his private parts while he was suffocating for lack of air made my dick hard, and I began to wish on my next move, which I decided would wait yet. I rescued the boy again, by pulling the bag, and allowing the boy fresh air again. The boy seemed a bit in a daze at first, as it had been the case with previous boys that I had tortured in this way; each subsequent near suffocation event, made it harder for them to recover. After almost 3 minutes of fresh air, I planted the bag over the head of the boy again, who pleaded with a desperate “no please” The boy soon started to breathe hard once again, as he used up his air. Again, I groped him, causing him to get erect, even as he was asphyxiating. Early on in our boy usage process, before we had even thought about the killing field up in the mountain, we had done this to a boy for a whole day. That other boy had been a rare winter capture, Ignacio was his name. The boy had been mortified of being forced to be naked in front of us at first. We had suspended him from his wrists, and ripped off his clothes, leaving him fully exposed. Then we started on with him. By the 80th time we had placed the bag over his head, he did not care much about his nakedness anymore. We had ended up telling him that the 81st time (it was the year after all) would be the last time. He had seemed relieved, until he saw us open up a body bag and lay it in front of him. He did not understand at first, but we made sure to explain it to him in full detail. The 81st time would be the last time because we would not take the bag off his head. To drive the point home we showed him a zip tie which we would use instead of the leather belt we had used up until then. To lengthen his agony we also used a larger bag for his last suffocation. The boy cried for at least 5 minutes, until Lorenzo slapped him hard and told him to be quiet. The boy was terrified, and had every right to be; he was about to be murdered. Lorenzo had held the bag over the boy’s head, and I made sure that the lip of the bag went under the zip tie. Then when we were sure that we would make an air tight seal I had told the boy, “here we go boy”, and I had pulled on the zip tie, making that characteristic ratcheting sound, until it had grown snug around the boy’s neck. The boy was exhausted from all the previous baggins, but he had still put on a decent display for us. Lorenzo had approached the boy, and stroked him, until he came just as he began to loose lucidness. His body fought for another couple of minutes, inhaling air as fast and as furiously as it could, but gradually the boy’s desperate struggles, became uncoordinated, and weaker. Eventually, his diaphragm ceased and his body went into one last fitful tremor, then his body went limp. We knew the boy was dead when his bowels allowed some shit to spill out. Now, over seven years later, a stronger and older boy, was being subjected to the same treatment, though his fate would not be nearly as easy as that of Ignacio. After 7 consecutive hardcore baggings, which had brought the boy to the edge of asphyxia, the boy was in a total daze. I gave the boy a shorter time than normal to recover, and bagged him again. His struggles futile, I did not even watched him as he used up his air. I used this time to prep for the next action. I dragged a large and heavy saddle horse from one of the closets, and parked it a few feet in front of the boy, pointing away from him. The boy in the mean time was coming to the end of his air, and he was once again struggling desperately. I came up to him, and reached for the bag, acting like I was about to take it off, but then I just held my hand there, as the boy kept growing even more desperate for air. He thought this bagging was almost over, but I kept it going, just needing a quick motion of my finger to allow life giving fresh air to enter the desperate boy’s lungs. I cut it quite close, only letting air in only seconds before the boy would have passed out again. His struggles had not only gone uncoordinated but they had begun to grow weaker as well. The boy was in a disoriented and dazed state. I doubted that he even knew where he was. I used this momentary weakness to transfer the boy from the column, to the saddle horse, where I secured him in such a way that his legs and arms followed the legs of the saddle horse, leaving the boy’s ass crack exposed to my use. The boy slowly recovered, and appeared glad to finally be able to rest his sore wrists, from which he had been suspended. However, the boy was deluded if he thought his hardships were over. The boy’s perfectly formed back and thin waste framed his delicious butt, which beckon my appetites, and thus I set forth to satiate them. I took a dab of petroleum jelly and applied it to the boy’s ass crack, then I used my finger and penetrated the boy’s anus, making sure to spread the lubricant. The boy moaned weakly, as he felt my finger poke into his anus. After I was done smearing the lubricant, I took off my jock, leaving my rock hard dick bob straight out. I was horny, and the boys hole looked like just the thing to take care of my need. I approached the boy, and let my dick rest between his butt cheeks, gently moving back and forth, driving me mad with animal desire. I then placed the tip of my dick against the boy’s anus, and pressed gently, causing the boy to moan lightly again. I backed off slightly, and then pressed back on, slightly penetrating the boy’s anus, who now protested some. The boy reacted to the intruder by clenching his butt chicks. I upped the pressure, but the boy resisted even harder. Obviously he was not as worn down as I had originally assumed. I had an easy solution for this. I picked up the plastic bag again, and coming from behind the boy I popped the bag over his head again. He clamored and begged not to go through the horrible experience of running out of air again. Ignoring his pleas, I positioned myself behind the boy, and took aim at his asshole again. The boy, now more preoccupied with trying to get the infernal plastic bag from his head, only offered token resistance. I pressed my dick against his asshole again, and the tip popped in. With another thrust, I began to sink my member into the virgin ass, enjoying the tight fit of a young boy. His increasingly desperate struggles to get air, translated into a grasping spasm of his butt muscles around my dick. I began to slowly push in and out, as the boy breath quickened to that desperate tempo. I reached over, and placing a finger under the draw string of the bag, I pulled it open, letting the bag fall to the floor, and letting the boy once again breathe fresh air. The boy thus elated, just lay limp on the saddle horse, as I kept thrusting in his ass. I kept it up, as the boy slowly recovered. As I began to build up towards cumming, the boy began to moan both in protest and in reaction to a sensation that was wholly new to him. I had held off in an attempt to prolong the wonderful ass fuck that they boy provided, but I finally could not contain myself, and began to build towards a final orgasm. Instinctually my thrusts grew faster and deeper, a tempo that the boy matched with his moans. Faster and faster I went until I erupted with tremendous impetus into the boy, finally falling limp on his back. The boy was whimpering under me. The boy might not have known exactly what had just happened, but he did have enough of a clue to know that he had just been raped. Normally my climax would have signaled the end of the session with the boy, but there were a lot of things that I wanted to try on the boy still, plus I was still highly aroused. The next thing I wanted to try was to rape the boy with a long round wooden peg, about 11 inches long, and about 3 cm in diameter, with both ends rounded. I took it out of the self, and needling in front of the boy, I showed it to him. I coated the peg in petroleum jelly, and began pushing the item into the boy. He resisted, but the hard and unyielding peg won out, as its rounded tip parted the boy’s sphincter muscle and penetrated him. Now I just slowly and gradually pushed the peg in and out, making sure to stimulate the boy’s prostrate. After about 5 or 10 minutes of fucking the boy’s ass with the peg, I could see that his penis was drooling with precum. I reached between his legs and handled his dick and balls, until I elicited a hard on. Judging that the boy was now ripe for his next torture, I passed two ropes over the beam, and attached the free end of each length around the ankle of boy’s leg. Then I pushed down on the other end, until I took all the slack out. I untied the boy from the table, and redoubling my efforts I pushed down on my end of the rope again, pulling the naked boy up from his feet. Soon, the boy was suspended upside down from the ceiling with his head about a meter above the floor, swaying side to side. The first thing to do after I secured the loose end of the rope to the column was to tie the boy’s arms together behind his back. First his wrists, then I forced his arms together by tying his upper arms together. That way the boy had no practical range of motion with his arms. The boy’s body was once again at my mercy, as I reached for his dick, and played with it at will. The boy had softened but with some manipulation from me, his dick was throbbing in a matter of minutes. I took the peg once again, and began the slow rectal fuck again. The constant stimulation of the boy’s prostrate drove him wild. He fought to expel the intruder from his ass, but with every push out, I would push it back in. All the while the boy’s dick had begun to drool precum again, making wispy drops that fell on the boy’s chest. After about 10 or 15 minutes of this, the boy finally tired, and relaxed, letting me push the peg in and out at will. He still twitched from time to time when an overwhelming desire to pee would force him to push; however only a fresh wave of precum would come out. At a point of my choosing, when I thought the boy was primed, I began to manipulate his dick, brining it back to attention, and slowly stroking it. The boy obviously hated this, but he had no choice. What he hated even more however was that despite his best efforts not to, he would get hard no matter what. What was worse, as I kept at it, it soon became easy to see that he was slowly building up to an orgasm. I stroked him for a good ten minutes, until I figured that the boy was just not cooperating. I asked him even, if he would like to come; A question that was quickly met with a chain of expletives and directions to where he thought I aught to go. No matter I thought. I would make the boy beg for relief before he was done. I grasped the peg again, and resumed the boy’s rectal rape, enjoying the pleasure induced undulations that the peg produced in the boy. After a number of cyles of peg fucking, and dick stroking, it was clear that this boy was not going to play, so at some point I decided that he would have to learn the lesson of what happens when he chose not to cooperate. I began by taking the peg out of the boy, who breathed a sigh of relief. The boy was strong and well built, but he seemed to be slow on the uptake. He did not seem to learn that an end to a form of torture only meant the beginning of a new and often worse type of torture. I took a 25 pound weight plate and I placed it flat on the floor immediately below the upside down boy. The boy looked at the object looking inquisitively at it trying to figure what the purpose of it was. He would not have to wait long to find out. The next thing I did was to retrieve a thin piece of metal pipe from the corner. This was no ordinary piece of pipe however. About 4 feet long, the ends of the pipe had been made round with solder, and polished to a shiny finish. I took another glop of petroleum jelly, and greased the pipe up. Then, I knelt beside the boy, and grabbed his mane of hair steadying his head so that he could not easily move it. Then, I commanded the boy to suck on the pipe, as I pushed the end of the pipe into his mouth, and then gradually pointed the loose end down. The angle forced the boy to arc his head back. He tried to turn his head to one side then the other, but I forced him to stay where I wanted him. As the downward angle of the pipe grew steeper, the boy’s teeth clanged against the pipe, and the boy willingly arched his neck back even more to keep the metal of the pipe from hitting his teeth. The angle finally went high enough that I could slide the end of the pipe down the boy’s throat. The boy protested mightily at this new invasion. He gagged repeatedly, and wriggled his whole body trying to avoid the intrusion. I was ready for this, and fighting the boy’s struggles, continued pushing the pipe deeper into the boy. When I got to his larynx the boy really began to gag, and heave, vomiting some slimy bile from his stomach. Undeterred, I pushed the pipe upwards into the boy, past his larynx. The boy’s voice now was totally changed, making only an unintelligible and guttural rasp when he tried to speak. He kept gagging and writhing the whole time as I kept sinking the rod deeper into him. About 12 inches of the pipe were already in the boy, when I reached his stomach. The valve between the esophagus and the stomach resisted. The boy continued gagging all the while, even as I firmly but gently pushed past this last obstacle and sank another 4 inches of the rod down the boy’s pie hole. The boy heaved and gagged. He had puked all contents of his stomach a while back, and now he could only dry heave. His whole abdomen tensed intensely every time he heaved. Then, I loosened the rope holding the boy, and gently lowered, until the loose end of the rod was just shy of touching the ground. Securing the rope again, I knelt besides the boy, and grabbing the rod, I guided it to the hole in the middle of the weight plate. Then using a clamp I fastened the rod to the plate, fording the rod in place. I stepped back, and admired the boy’s body, as he kept gagging upside down with no relief in site. I reached up to the bound boy, and took his genitals in my hand, feeling the boy’s heart beat in my hand. The boy was exhausted, but could not stop gagging. I began stroking the boy, but he was in too much distress to build up to any erection. This was right where I wanted him to punish him. I was, as he was about to find out, not done either. I took the whip, and began slapping the boy gently across the back. Slowly I built up on intensity until the boy began to wince and writhe in a vain attempt to remove himself from the sting of the whip. I would get on a rhythm and then suddenly switch it to keep the boy off balance. He screamed as best as he could, between involuntary gags and heaves, with the rod sticking straight down to the floor; the antipodes of his future state. When I judged that the boy was nearly exhausted, I stopped, put the whip down, and grabbed the peg again. I showed it to the boy, who closed his eyes in dismayed, as even between gags and heaves, he understood what was coming next. Once again, I pushed the peg into the boy’s rectum, and began a slow ass fuck. I continued to abuse the boy for another half hour or so, alternating between raping his ass, and whipping him. By that time, the boy had exhausted the rest of his strength, and even his gag reflex had weakened to a painful whimper. This was the time to break the boy. I once again knelt next to him, and spoke clearly to him, to make sure that he understood me. His choice was simple. He could suck me off, and be allowed to sleep in the cot, or he could refuse me, and he would spend the rest of the night hanging upside down with the pipe down his throat. He only had to blink twice to let me know that he would agree to suck me off. The boy was desperate and would have taken any avenue out of the hell he was living through. He agreed to the deal right away. I lifted the boy back up by pulling on the ropes, and slowly too the pipe out of the boy, who breathed the biggest shy of relief he had ever had in his short life. Taking pity on him, I even held him up and gave him a gulp of water to drink, so that he could take the horrible taste of bile out of his mouth. My part done, I brought my dick up to his mouth, and tapped him in the butt. It was his turn to perform. The boy hesitated for a few seconds, but closing his eyes, he opened his mouth, and accepted my rock hard cock, as I began to thrust in and out of his mouth. It did not take long for me to build up to a second orgasm. I quickened my tempo, as I got closer and closer, and then I came, spilling my seed in the boy’s mouth. It was an amazing orgasm. The boy had willingly chosen to suck me off. As I promised, I took him down, and allowed him to lay flat on the floor. He was so exhausted that he fell asleep right away. I then attached his wrists to the ropes, and began pulling the unconscious boy back up. I pulled hard on the ropes and he became suspended again, just as Lorenzo appeared in the room, ready to take his turn with the boy. No rest for the weary I thought to myself. +++++++++++ +++++++++++ PART 3: Getting ready for Javier’s final dance +++++++++++ +++++++++++ The night had past too soon. The sun rise surprised me before I had finished everything I wanted to try, but I had to concede that I was done for now. Javier had been everything I had hoped for and more. I would get one more shot at him later in the evening. That would be my last shot at the boy. Lorenzo and I had decided we would take Javier to the mountain tomorrow morning. I left Javier suspended from the roof beam by his wrists with his feet only a few inches over the floor. The boy’s boy was truly gorgeous; even now his limp body was an amazing sight. Lorenzo had come up to take his last turn with the boy. I went downstairs, and with out taking a shower, I got in bed and quickly fell asleep. I really needed a short nap. I woke up slowly, later that morning. I lay in bed for a few minutes, slowly waking up, and stretching a few times. Upstairs, I could hear Javier’s faint moans of pain, intermingled with the whacks of Lorenzo delivering another whipping on the boy. Javier was a very strong boy, but I knew that once Lorenzo finished, and I took my turn with him the boy would have no strength left, mental or physical. My goal that evening had been to break the boy’s will. Now broken, I would rekindle hope in the boy by promising him freedom. Lorenzo and I had slowly refined our method over the years. After our brutal treatments, and lack of sleep the boys were confused, disoriented, and weary. The promise of an end to their suffering, of a way out of the hell we had unleashed on them, made them docile and easy to order around. Our story was that we would walk them to a far away road, where we would release them to be picked up. In their hope of escape, they would gladly walk themselves up the mountain to their appointment with the killing spot. Because Javier was an older and physically stronger boy, we would have to be extra careful. Javier could pose a real problem if he got loose. I finally got out of bed, and went downstairs where I began preparing a late breakfast for both myself and Lorenzo. When the smell of the food reached the attic, Lorenzo came down to the kitchen and joined me. He was wearing his favorite outfit consisting of tight leather pants and a body harness. I grinned when I saw him come bright eyed through the kitchen door. He smiled back, and greeted me. He was ecstatic about getting so much boy time, and he certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. I served breakfast, and we both sat down, and started to eat. The topic of conversation was off course Javier. Lorenzo said that he was ready to begin another gut punching session as soon as he went back upstairs. I discussed what I had in mind for this evening to thoroughly break the boy. Lorenzo approved, grinning again. Having both discussed our immediate plans for the boy; I decided to bring up the topic of boy disposal. We would as usual convince the boy that we would let him go free. The story had always worked. However the ploy of setting him free with the condition of not telling anyone anything he knew about us, our location, or what had happened to him would have to be delivered well. We would allow a shorter than normal last night of rest. Javier would only buy the false promise of freedom if he did not have hit wits. Additionally we also went through the details of what I wanted to do at the top of the mountain. Whereas Lorenzo got first cut at the boys in the house, I had the say on matters related to the boy disposal method. What I wanted to do in the killing field would require a few items that were not present up the mountain, so I would go back up to the spot, to both deliver and prepare supplies, and check on Julio. Among my preparations I made two 2 liter bottles of soupy mush potatoes which I would use to feed the Julio, plus 4 liters of water for him. Lorenzo and I would camp up there to stay a few days, so I also packed a tent, camping supplies, and another bundle of firewood. After about 2 hours, I set out for the mountain spot, heavily laden with supplies, but happy. Last night had really lifted my Spirits, and I was really looking forward to impaling Javier in less than a day now. My trek to the killing spot took almost twice as long as usual. When I finally reached the camping area, I was quite relieved to drop the heavy bundle of firewood. Had I known how hard the trek was going to be, I would have left the firewood behind, but at least now I had arrived, and we had added to the reserve of firewood, which was now quite respectable. I sat down, on a sitting stone by the fire ring, and drank some water as I rested. I looked into the fire ring and noticed that in the ashes I could still see the remains of a shoe sole that had somehow escaped the flames; So many memories. I thought back about the many bundles of clothes that we had burned here. Burning the boy’s clothes in front of them had become part of a ceremony. First we would strip the boys down to their underwear to include their shoes. Then we would drop the boy's clothes in the fire while they watched. It was a ritual. I always got a kick of keeping the boys in tight underwear through out their final ordeal. Since Speedos had become available it in Spain, it had been the only thing we allowed the boys to wear; A required uniform of shorts. I could never quite explain it to myself, but somehow the tight underwear bound the boy’s doomed manhood, so that somehow they were under my control to the end. As I mentioned before, the fact that they often had to pee on themselves while still wearing them was also another desirable source of humiliation to the boys. I felt rested so I got up, and walked to the nearby killing field. There again, I found Julio, impaled, sweating, and unconscious. His torment was progressing very much like those of his predecessors. By now the ants had found the boy, and were crawling over him, finding vulnerable spots to eat into him. If I did nothing, they would probably finish him off soon. I would have to do something about the ants now if I wanted the boy to last until tomorrow. I once again assessed the boy, and found that his fever had broken, he had peed repeatedly during the night, and the vermin had not bitten into him yet. His sunburn had gotten worse since yesterday, and he was bleeding some from his wrists, no doubt caused by a struggle to free himself. His mouth had swollen considerably, because of infection and because the fly inserted maggots were starting to eat away at his flesh. With that in mind, I sprang to action. First, I put my backpack down, and emptied the items that we would use with Javier tomorrow. A wide crack between the boulders provided the perfect way to store the items away from the elements. Then I turned my attention to Julio. I unzipped my pants once again, and began relieving myself in his mouth. The boy stirred to life, surprised and probably very confused. However, instinctively he began swallowing right away. I allowed my stream to stray from his mouth, and spray the boy’s body, washing the ants off him. When I was done, I knelt besides the boy, made eye contact, and greeted him. His facial expression was one of exhaustion and curiosity. His mouth, freshly moistened, spasmed, and he spoke, asking for water. I told him I had good news for him, and made preparations to both feed him and give him drink. I had never fed a boy who had been impaled before so I was about to try something completely new here. The risk was that if his intestines were pinched because of the impaling pole, he might die. However I suspected this would not be the case. The boy was now in his 5th day, and if he had not died yet, he would probably survive ingesting some food. I began by gradually emptying a liter bottle of water down the boy’s throat. The boys face reflected the comfort that a belly full of water brought to him. So much so that he closed his eyes, and fell asleep again. I took a few cuts of cucumber, and spread them on the floor around him. That would keep the ants off him for a day or so, and that was all that I needed and wanted. While the boy slept, I went to have a look at what ever was left of Manuel. The vermin had certainly picked his carcass clean of meat. The only soft tissue I could see was some dried up ligaments, some parched skin, and the boys head of hair. Everything else was just bones. The flies and ants were long ago done with him. Manuel’s skeleton remained in one piece, the legs splayed apart, but still resting on the knees. The pelvis, still clad on a now slack white Speedo, was about 20 cm above the ground. I reached to the skeleton, and undid the thick collar which had collared the boy. The stiff leather collar, which was about 6 cm wide, was something that we had all the boys wear as soon as they left the attic in the chalet. Forcing a collar around the boys neck was another pre-impalement ritual if you would, but one with a purpose. The collar also allowed easier physical control of the boy in the way up the mountain, and during the impalement process. With out a doubt this collar would go around Javier’s neck tomorrow. I placed the collar in my backpack to bring it down to the chalet to meet his next wearer. Next, I took a screwdriver with a wide flat blade, and unscrewed the perm holding the impaling pole down. It only took half a turn. I grabbed the pole, and lifted it straight up. When the bottom of the pole lifted past the mandible, Manuel’s skeleton stood upright for a few seconds then it leaned and tumbled down. I reached for the Speedos, and pushed them down the leg bones. I unbounded the feet from the arms and set the garment free. I held the Speedo’s up, observing some faded blood stains and dried up shit on them, and just like the rest of my collection this addition had the characteristic rip between the legs. I flapped the garment a few times to shake loose the dry excrement. Then I took a tag out of my chest pocket and attached it to the garment. Then pulling a pen I wrote "Manuel 5/1983-b” I stepped back to my backpack, and I took a plastic bag where I placed the garment. Hopefully tonight before my time with Javier these would be washed and on my wall. Next, I came back to the skeleton and rebound the arms and legs together, denying the boy, even well after death freedom. I lifted it, and took it to a deep crevasse between a few rocks. The crevasse doubled as a latrine, and down there in a jumble of excrement and bones laid the remains of 53 boys. This house keeping duty done, I turned my attention to Julio. I woke him up again, and began patiently feeding and hydrating him. The boy relished the soupy mush potato that I had brought for him. When I was done, he had consumed about 6 liters of water, and 4 liters (a gallon) of mush potatoes. The boy still bound by the ligatures and the impaling pole exhibited a noticeably distended stomach. The boy’s immediate water and food needs had been met. Now he began complaining of the pain he was experiencing. To shut him up, and in an uncharacteristically kind move, I gave him two aspirin. Julio fell asleep again, and I decided to return to the chalet and finish my work with Javier. I wanted to get down and have another nice long session with him. I prepared the slab besides Julio to receive Javier tomorrow. Because Javier was a larger boy than what we were used to, I had to change the height and placement of the foot rests, and made sure to select the longer impaling pole. The placement was of course chosen so Julio would be able to see what we did to Javier. I had carefully measured Javier dimensions, so I new just where to place the clamp in the pole. These and other preparations did not take long. When I had finished I picked up all the items that I would bring down with me, and made ready to go, when I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Julio's dick was hard. Though Julio was still asleep, his dick was straining against his tight dark blue Speedo’s. I could not pass up this opportunity. Quietly, I knelt in front of the boy, and very gently I grasped his member through the Speedo, and began to gently stroke. The boy, stirred slightly, but did not wake. His dick, previously only semi hard, became a raging hard on, which I kept stroking. The boy's breathing began to quicken, I followed suit with my strokes. I could tell the boy was slowly edging closer to cumming. I kept working the boy, slowly making him ready to cum. After quite a few minutes I knew that it would only take a few more strokes, and I certainly meant to make the boy cum, but I wanted to extract another measure of humiliation from him. I gently stopped stroking the boy, generating an unconscious moan of frustration from the still sleeping boy. His dick was throbbing. I got up, and making sure that the boy would be able to see me, I shouted at him. The boy woke in a start, as usual confused at first, then the face of horror as he re-remembered his position. I called him a little whore, and making sure he could still see me, I knelt to his side, and reached for his dick, which I stroke a few times until he came. The orgasm induced hip thrust drove the boy’s pelvis into the unyielding metal pole that ran through him. The boy wimpered as his thrust shimmered down. I had no doubt that it was quite painful to the boy. The boy produced 2 or three wads of watery sperm which spurted from his bound dick, forming a wet spot on his Speedos, which quickly spread down. The boy was shocked that what happened had happened. The facial expression of mixed confusion, pain, and pleasure was priceless. The fact that he could not hide, avert, or even free his cum covered dick from his garment was also great. I took my dick out again, and whizzed on the boy again, giving him one last shot of drink. My time up here was great, but I had someplace to be. I grabbed my backpack, and walked away. Julio whimpered and begged behind me as I walked away. Would he ever realize that it was futile? +++++++++++ +++++++++++ PART 4: One last dance with Javier before his final dance +++++++++++ +++++++++++ It had been a delightful morning, but I was looking forward to what promised to be an even better afternoon. In the Chalet, Lorenzo was having his last go at our current boy, Javier. In the last 4 days, the boy had been subjected to just about every category of torture we wished on him. This afternoon would be my last chance at tormenting the boy, and I had quite a few things I was going to do him. I came through the kitchen door, and put down the backpack. Drank a big glass of water and went to my bedroom, to get ready for my session with the boy. I took a shower, and then as before, I dawned my jockstrap, and nothing else. With plenty of excitement, I walked up the stairs. Up there, Lorenzo was finishing up with the boy, who was once again bound to the attic column. Lorenzo looked tired, the boy looked devastated. Sitting slowly on the chair, he recounted what he had done to the boy. My excitement only grew as I heard Lorenzo’s tale of abuse. The boy in the mean time, slept while bound to the column. One of the things that I noticed is that the boy was once again sporting a pair of briefs. It turned out that Lorenzo had put them on the boy so that while he whipped the boy, he would not accidentally leave a would on the boy’s dick and balls; something which I did not want done to the boy. Lorenzo was really a great partner. Javier’s tale of woe completed, Lorenzo got up, and with a hug, passed control of the boy back to me. The boy was mine to abuse between now and tomorrow morning, when we were schedule to take him up the mountain. I made a mental note of remembering that I had to make good use of the time. I slapped the boy gently in his cherubic face, brining him back from deep sleep. I undid the bonds that held the boy to the attic column, and pushed him to the center of the room. His feet tied close together made it hard for him to move. I ran a rope over the beam, and tied his wrists together. Then I pulled from the rope, pulling up his arms, and then his whole body, until his toes were at least 10 cm from the ground. Javier groaned as he once again found his weight suspended from his already sore wrists. I walked around the boy, admiring the delicious body in front of me, ready for my use. I reached, and gently pushed the boy, so that he began to sway from the ceiling. He followed me with his gaze, with an expression that denoted both apprehension and fear. I walked around him, and then approached him from behind, and reached around him, and caressed him, passing my hands over his smooth chest and toned belly. Then I sank my hands down to his midsection, and under the loose waistband of his briefs to feel his vulnerable manhood. I felt the boy’s heartbeat as I held his dick in my hand. I placed my hands on either side of his hips, and began to pull his briefs down. He began to beg again, with repeated “please no”. He raised his knees up, to keep me from stripping him. His efforts were futile. I resolved that he would never wear anything again, except his death Speedos. Now Javier just hang limp in front of me, and I was having a hard time controlling myself. My dick was straining against the jockstrap, begging for relief. I reached for the boy’s exposed member, and handled it, until voluntarily or not it began to harden. Javier really had an active libido, and a good looking cock. I began to stroke him, bringing tremendous shame to him, as his member rose to a full erection. When ever I stopped, his dick would bob up and down. The boy mortified as he was unable to force his own member to subside, nor hide it in any way. It would be only after a little while that the boy’s erection would slowly begin to subside. I kept doing this again and again, bringing the boy close to an orgasm each time, but denying him by stopping at just the right time. I repeated the cycle probably a dozen times; until I decided it was time for the next move. I meant to beat up the boy now; I could not contain myself anymore. I landed a sudden punch on his belly, surprising the boy, who was unable to breath for a few seconds, and he struggle to get some breath back into him. His mouth opened and closed, but no air was moving. Finally he breathed again, and I delivered another punch, perhaps not as hard as the first one, but by this point the boy had caught on and began protecting himself by contracting the muscle and absorbing my punches. Sometimes he would raise his legs to shield himself, others he would just tense his muscles. No matter, I kept raining punches on him. I kept landing them, single ones here and there, combinations from time to time. The boy anticipated them, and did the best he could to protect himself. I must have been at it for a good 20 or 30 minutes, when I decided to take a small break. By this time, Javier was breathing hard, tired from the effort of protecting his exposed midsection. He was too tired now to raise his legs anymore as a form of protection, and had fallen on the contraction of his muscle to protect himself. His body was covered in a gleaming sheen of sweat. He was an arousing sight for sure, and I decided that it would soon be time to have my way with him. I resumed my punches, landing them hard and often, the boy just straining to react and crunch. Sometimes I would manage to surprise him, and I would land an unprotected punch, digging deep in the boy, and messing him up pretty good. The boy would almost seize, unable to breathe for a while, as his diaphragm recovered from the shock. I would give the boy a few minutes to recover when I landed these, but next, I resolved to really let him have it. After a small brief respite, I let the boy drink plenty of water, he was perspiring heavily, and I wanted him to keep up his strength. I also began to handle his member once again, which despite his best efforts began once again to harden under my influence. God he was a whore I thought. I stood in front of him again, made a boxing pose, and the boy knew he was up for another round of blows, and he was right. I began again, punching him mercilessly, relishing the uh’s and ahs as he tensed his mid section to cushion my blows, then I changed up my set of punches, and I again surprised him, landing an unprotected punch. The boy once again opened his mouth wide opened, and he tried to get his breath, but unlike previous times, I did not stop. I continued landing even more punches, and hard ones too. I could go on recounting the beating that I unleashed on the boy for quite a while, and I would probably bore the reader with the details, but when I finally had my fill of boy boxing, the boy was totally spent. It had taken nearly 2 hours of abuse, but the boy’s muscles were totally exhausted, and unable to service the boy to stop a single blow. I could now punch the boy at will with out any contraction from him. It was in this state, that I set forth my next torture on the boy. While the boy hanged limp and motionless, trying desperate to recover his strength. I broke out Lorenzo’s Whip, and neared the boy. When he saw me approach with the whip, the boy began to shudder in fear. So much so that the boy began to pee himself from fear, making a small yellow puddle under him. This game me an idea. I took his briefs, which I had tossed to one side of the room, and used them to mop up the mess. Then I stuffed them in his mouth, and kept them there with a strip of cloth that I bound around his head. The boy could now feel his own piss soaked underwear in his mouth, slowly a drip of his own urine flowing down his throat. I knew this would not matter much to him soon. I took my position behind the boy, and I began the delectable activity of boy whipping. His screams wonderfully muffled by the gag I had just applied. His exhaustion such, that he could hardly move in anticipation of the whips stinging wrath. The whip stung, but it did not break the skin, instead only little red welts would develop were multiple lashes had crossed. As time wore on, the boys buttocks and back acquired a deep red tone, which when I felt them with my hand felt burning hot to the touch. I was not sure how long I had been punching and whipping the boy, but at some point, I had enough of that, and decided that it was time to hook the boy up, literally. I took a hook from a shelf. This hook was about foot and a half long, and its curbed end was about half a foot. In its tip, instead of a pointy end, it had a small metal ball, about 2 or 3 cm in diameter. I tied a length of rope to the hook, and passed the rope over the beam, dangling back down to me. I applied a dab of grease on the round tip, and inserted it in the boy’s anus. The boy squirmed and protested, to quiet him down; I spanked his butt cheek hard, while yelling at him to quit wriggling I reached for the loose end of the rope, and pulled down it, until the line became taught, and began to pull the boy backwards. When I was satisfied that he proper tension was applied to the rope, I tied the loose end to the wall. The boy was thus dangling from his wrists, but also pulled back about a foot, thanks to the hook pulling him back from his anus. As a last measure I tied his feet to a spreader bar, forcing his legs well apart. This left the boy’s genitals exposed to my abuse. I took a twig, about a meter long, and began to tap the boy on his balls. Exhausted as he was, he could only emit muffled moans, and the repetitive wasp built up to a source of pain. For my next thing, I took a smooth metal pole, about 2 mm thick, and pressed it down the boys piss hole, causing the boy to writhe and moan desperately, as almost 20 cm of the metal pole disappeared into his piss slit. When I was done only about 4 cm stuck out of the boy’s penis, forcing it to stick straight out, no matter what his state of arousal was. Then I hang a set of weights form his balls, and sat to admire the boy’s suffering. It was simply sublime. Now finally I decided to ravage the boy. I took the hook off his ass, and letting my throbbing dick out of the jockstrap, applied lubricant, and began to rub my dick in his ass crack. Then gradually I began to push into the boy’s anus, and gradually I began to penetrate the boy. The boy resisted, but it was of no use. First just the tip of my penis, but eventually my whole cock penetrated him, and I began a nice and rhythmic motion, as I slowly brought myself towards climax. The boy sobbed, begged and pleaded, as I once again robbed his virginity. In, and out, slowly building up the tempo. I enjoyed the feel of the boy’s tight hole, and his struggles, until finally I came in a burst of copious ejaculation. I took a rest, and admired the dangling boy, who wallowed in his wretched state, slowly swaying from the ceiling, with his manhood sticking straight out thanks to the metal rod in it. He probably wished that he would die this instant, but he would not get that wish, not yet anyway. I was far from done with the boy. I stood up, and grabbed the whip. The boy saw me approach once again, and his eyes could not hide the fear, and sadness at my sight. I stepped into position, and began whipping the boy again. +++++++++++ +++++++++++ PART 5: Javier’s last dance +++++++++++ +++++++++++ I had finished with Javier around 2 in the morning. I was totally done with him now, other than to dispose of him. He was broken, and I too tired to enjoy any further acts that I may have wished to inflict on the boy. Besides in his exhausted state I doubt he would be conscious enough to notice anything else that was being done to him. I forced the boy in an uneasy and restless sleep, by tying his arms and legs to the cot, forcing him to lie down in a piss soaked cot. With the metal rod still stuck in his dick. Despite this, the boy fell asleep in seconds. Making sure that the boy was secured I went downstairs, took a quick shower and got on my bed, tired but full of expectation for tomorrow morning. I woke back up around 5:30 with the first light in the eastern horizon. I sprang to action, preparing breakfast plus a couple of meals for Lorenzo and me. The neither of the boys would get any. The aroma of coffee brought down a sleepy Lorenzo, who had gotten a good full night’s rest, and was waking up slowly. We both sat quietly in the kitchen table enjoying this time before the final preparations for the hike started. We were both very excited, but we did not talked about it. Instead we had some small talk. Breakfast was done, but we delayed a bit longer, almost enjoying the wait. Finally I gave a look to Lorenzo who nodded back at me. We both got up and made ready to prepare the boy. The final ritual had started. We both headed upstairs to the attic, opening the door quietly. I picked up the thick leather collar that was hanging from the wall and walked across the attic towards the cot. There we found Javier still asleep naked in the wet cot. The boy was really quite a site. Even asleep his muscular development and definition were evident. Lorenzo kicked the cot, waking up the boy. He was slow to move, no doubt very sore from the abuses he had endured and dazed and disoriented by the lack of sleep. Lorenzo knelt besides the boy, and took out the rod that I had put in his dick. In the mean time I took the collar, and passed one end of it behind the boy’s neck who was still lying down. Then I closed the two ends together, cinched it snug around his neck, and applied the safety lock on the straps. I thought to myself about what a different look Javier would have when I took it off him. The boy started to ask again why we were doing this to him, and other stuff like that. I slapped him lightly and gestured to him to be quiet. I got up and retreated to my attic room for a while. Lorenzo would tell Javier that we were going to set him free with the condition that he would never reveal our location to anyone. The thing would take about 5 minutes, and it was better if Lorenzo did it by himself. I was not good at telling lies. I sat in the room, and admired my trophy wall. There were 47 pairs of underwear in the wall now; all mementos of boys who had gone through here and up the mountain, never to return. It was easy to see the progression. On the top left were the earlier ones. These were ordinary boy underwear, and I remembered how back then, they boys ended up in the same underwear they came in with. Then in 1977 we snagged a boy, actually our youngest ever so far, only 10, who was wearing a pair of Speedo’s. From that point on two things changed. First all the boys from that point on were impaled while wearing tight Speedos, and second, they were never impaled with any other clothes. Forcing the boys to wear a pair of tight underwear of my choosing was a means of depriving the boys of one more layer of control. To kill the boys while forcing them to wear uncomfortably tight Speedos forced on them. I got a raging hard on thinking about it. There in the table was Manuel’s death Speedos with their corresponding tag “Manuel 5/1983-b”. I thought about that boy Manuel when he was still alive and wearing these. The last time I saw him, the ants were having a field day with him. The ants were working on his dick, under his Speedos, and I knew that boy would have given anything for relief. I snapped out of my memory, picked them up, and hang them in the wall, making it a total of 48 pairs in the wall. This brought my mind to a choice of Speedo’s for Javier to wear. Though I had taken care of all the other preparations, I now realized that I had not picked what he would wear. Javier’s significant endowment would make the choice of Speedo particularly interesting. I thought that he might look good on a red Speedo, but perhaps a nice navy blue one would be best. Then, down in the floor, pushed aside and forgotten, I noticed a pair of royal blue Speedo’s. I then remembered that these were Manuel’s. The perversion of forcing another boy’s Speedo’s on Javier struck me as ironic and perfectly wicked. Manuel had been an average size 13 year old; Javier was a well built and well endowed 15 year old. They would be nice and tight on Javier; these would be it. Lorenzo had already undone Javier’s ligatures, and he sat on the edge of his cot, still naked, with a great smile on his face, and drying streaks of tears on his face. He had bought the story in full, and as he thought we were going to let him go. I looked sternly at Lorenzo, and asked aloud, “Does he understand?” Javier looked up at Lorenzo, as he assented with his head. I commanded Javier to stand up, which he could only do with some help, and then I proceeded to guide him down the stairs to the kitchen. Once there, we sat him in the middle chair, and offered him some water and a few toasts with butter. The boy had not eaten anything for many days, so he ate and drank diligently not even caring for the fact that he was still naked. The boy finished his breakfast, and looked up at me wondering what was next. We let the boy take a shower and clean himself up. Though still sleep deprived it was obvious that he was feeling much better after just an hour of normal treatment. I also went ahead and applied some alcohol to his wrists, which were skinned due to all the time he had spent suspended from them. All the while the boy kept eating, and I even spied a smile on the boy. He was full of hope and happiness. Poor sod Lorenzo came in the kitchen carrying the boy's clothes, plus the underwear I had chosen for him. Manuel's blue Speedo’s would be a very snug fit on Javier, and a very nice and arousing sight. However, before the boy got dressed, I had one more thing to do to the boy. I told the boy to get up, and bend over, thus exposing his butt. The boy complied though with some trepidation showing in his face. Then I put on a pair of kitchen gloves, and opened a jar of Novocain cream. I dabbed a cotton ball in the cream, and proceeded to apply the cream on the boy’s nadir region. The Novocain would slowly numb the region. It would take a good hour for the numbness to spread, so this was the perfect time to do it. Javier then proceeded to get dress. He started with the Speedo’s, which as I thought were very snug, specially when he had to slip then up his muscular legs, but once around his thighs, they fitted very well. His genitals were well contained and showed in profile. He was in such a jovial mood that he even modeled them for us, putting his hands on his head, and undulating his hips; really quite a site. Then he put on his black soccer nylon shorts the white nylon shirt then his socks, and finally his shoes. The boy was almost ready to begin his journey. I offered him another glass of water which he took gladly, and made ready to go. Lorenzo put on the backpack, and I used a pair of handcuffs to secure the boys wrists together in front of him. Then as it was customary, I attached a long lease to the collar around the boy's neck, as an extra insurance. Lorenzo lead the way out of the kitchen, followed by the boy, and me on the rear. I closed and locked the door, and set off up the path into the early morning. The boy was under the impression that we would take him on foot to a distant spot on the other side of the mountains were we would set him free, so he neither resisted nor questioned us when for good measure we put a blindfold on him. Our thought was that this would render the boy easier to control, and less likely to escape or question our story. The blindfold was not hard on him at first as the path was at first gentle and smooth. However as the path turned rockier and steeper, the boy began to stumble more and more often. Lorenzo walked next to him, helping him avoid rocks and voids, while I tugged on the collar from time to time to keep the boy moving forward. Strong as he was the boy was never the less still tired, and we had not been on the go much more than half an hour when he began to whine. No matter, we pushed on. From where we were, you could almost see where we were going to in the distance. The sun finally broke out from behind the mountains, warming us. Despite the boy slowing us down It did not take us long to reach the point where we would prepare the boy for his impalement. He was in very good physical shape, and despite a number of stumbles he continued to move well. The sun had already dried the early morning dew, and the temperature was warming quickly. Today would probably be one of the first hot days of spring. We reached the fire ring, and Lorenzo began to prepare the boy. I in the mean time I went around the rocky ledge to check the pedestal that I had prepared for the boy the previous day, and besides I had to pee. I walked around the large boulders and came up to the killing field. There yet again, I found Julio, still impaled and shivering. The night had been cold enough to chill him to the bone, and he had not had the benefit of the sun warming rays since he was still in the shade. Julio’s prolonged torment was lasting longer than most of his predecessors had. Our record had been 6 days as far as we knew, and Julio was now coming close to tying that record. The cucumber slides I had placed around him had kept the ants at bay, and the vermin had left him alone for another day. I suspected that the cucumber slides, which were now dried up, would loose their potency against the ants today. Out of professional habit again I assessed the boy’s condition. He had a slight fever again, his sunburn had gotten worse with visible blistering appearing on his back. His wrists were raw from the ligatures, and there was still no bleeding coming from between his legs. When I inspected his mouth I noticed the maggots were crawling around his mouth. These maggots were probably keeping infections at bay in his mouth as they ate the dead flesh, but they were also digging a sizeable hole in his mouth. I also noticed that the boy had a bout of diarrhea as he had laid a syrupy biscuit in his Speedos. Some liquid excrement had leaked and had run down the boy’s legs, making a small brown pool next to his right knee. That would be a fly and insect magnet in a few hours. The pleasantries taken care of, I unzipped and began relieving myself in the boy’s mouth. The boy drank everything, probably glad to have something warm in his stomach. The sun had come over the rock wall, and had begun to warm him up anyway. Everything appeared in order here, so I headed back to the fire ring to see if Javier’s pre impalement ritual was going according to plan. When I got to the fire ring, I saw that Lorenzo had things well in hand. Javier laid on the plastic tarp, naked save for his underwear, and asleep. Lorenzo had already applied the spreader, pushing his feet apart about 4 feet. Lorenzo was applying the thick syrupy mix, which we knew attracted vermin and insects alike. This paste made of a mixture of syrup and sardine paste was great to speed the demise of the boys. As part of our ritual, we applied the goop liberally all over the boy’s body. Insects would not be a big problem this early in the morning, but in a few hours when the temperature turned hotter, it would be a different matter. Lorenzo had also already switched the boy's wrist restrains from the front to the back. The boy who would wake up for a few seconds before sleep would take him, accepted these changes with out question. He was just glad to get a rest. According to our story this was a way point were we would blindfold him and take him over a mountain pass. This was, according to us, necessary so that he could not figure out, nor retrace his steps to find out where he had been held. We commanded him to stand up, I explained that we had to carry him over a tricky spot, and that he better not wiggle or resist or he might fall down a cliff. With that, Lorenzo picked the boy up over his shoulder, and began walking down towards the killing field. The boy complied just glad to take a rest. I walked in front of Lorenzo, and once again rounded the boulder revealing the killing spot. There, in the slab next to Julio, lied two strongly anchored foot rests a little over 2 feet tall and just as far apart as the boys feet were thanks to the spreader bar. I came up to the slab, and stepped around the feet rest. Lorenzo brought the boy in front of the foot rests, and taking 2 steps in the small stool ladder that I had purposely left there he began to let the boy down feet first. As both Lorenzo and I had done many times already, I grasped the boy’s feet, and guided them so that they came to rest on the narrow foot rests. Lorenzo unloaded the rest of the boy’s weight, allowing him to stand, but keeping at least a hand on the boy's shoulders to steady him, and make sure that he did not tumble from his perch. While this was going on, I grabbed my very sharp cutting knife from its sheath and pointed it straight up, while standing slightly behind Javier's legs. I brought its tip to rest in the boy’s perineum. This would be the spot were the pole resting next to me would penetrate the boy. The cut had to be both very precisely placed, and of the correct depth. Too close to the scrotum and it would damage the bladder, too far away and it might perforate the large intestine. Too close to the center and it might tear the traversal perineum muscle. Abundant experience had taught me not to delay. I rested the sharp tip of the knife on the spot wrapping my left first around the handle. Then using the upright palm of my right hand I tapped the knife upward driving it in with a single jab. The short knife buried itself in the boy’s flesh. Then I advanced the blade forward with two strong but controlled sweeping cuts. The boy did not say anything; he swung his head in surprise, feeling only a dull sensation in his nether regions thanks to the Novocain we had applied earlier. The blade made the characteristic rip in the underwear, and the cut generated only a modest amount of bleeding. The blood began dripping down every 3 seconds or so falling on the slab right about the spot where the impaling pole would be anchored. This always helped to check that the setup was properly aligned. I grabbed the impaling metal pole which was about 2 cm in diameter, and placed its blunt tip against the gash I had just made. I pressed its tip up into the gash, going in only to the 3 or 4 cm depth that the blade had cut. The boy swung his head again, surprised, and not exactly sure whether he was expecting this. He protested, sensing something was amiss. I was undeterred. I pushed the pole harder, pushing the boy off balance. Lorenzo caught the boy as he had begun to lean forwards towards him. This change of position helped me by forcing his posture in a forward lean. I thrusted the pole into the boy again, with no penetration, then again, and this time, I felt the familiar feeling of muscle tissue parting, allowing the pole into the boys abdominal cavity. The journey of the pole’s tip through the boy's body would be critical. My aim was to avoid damage to any of his internal organs. The pole slipped between the bladder and the rectum, running into the small intestine. There I moved the pole side to side, in an effort to push in intestine out of the way while driving the pole deeper still. The membranes that hold the small intestine had to be torn through. The boy began to complain loudly now, not so much about the pain, but the unexpected turn of events that were unfolding around him. Good I thought, he was not aware yet. I continued to push the pole further up into the boy’s body, now almost in a full foot in. I knew that at some point the tip of the pole would come up against the abdominal wall. The pole would make an unnatural bump on the boy’s belly, which would move when I pushed the pole to one side or another. Lorenzo was watching out for it, and when he finally saw it, he gave me the signal. “Stop, you are there” I quickly backed the pole 4 inches, threading the pole under the top section of the large intestine. Then I began to push the loose end of the pole down, righting the pole closer and closer to a vertical position. Once the pole approached vertical, I allowed the bottom of the pole, which was only an inch or so from the concrete slab to slide in a metal jacket in the base. Once in I secured the pole with a wing nut screw. Fixing the bottom of the pole to the slab marked the first part of the boy’s impalement. The boy stood upright, still quiet, but with an expression of apprehension showing in his face. The metal pole sticking straight up from the slab, disappearing between the boys legs, and a thin line of blood flowed from the boy down the pole. The boy was now as good as gone, the only thing left to determine is whether we would be able to conduct a successful impaling by threading the pole through the boy and out his mouth, or whether we would mess it up and accidentally end the boy’s life in the process. If we avoided perforating any organs or blood vessels, there would be almost no bleeding involved. Lorenzo queued by the attachment of the pole to the floor slab looked for my signal. When I assented, he took the boys blindfold off, and threw it a few feet away. The boy closed his eyes, unaccustomed to the brightness. As Lorenzo and I had done many times we prepared for the next step. I took the other stepping stool, placed it behind the boy and climbed to its top. In that position I was just a bit lower than the boy. I used my left hand to grasp the collar, and the right hand to hold his shoulders. Lorenzo in the mean time had stepped off his stool and was standing in front of the boy, and ready to push the boy's feet from the pedestal. Lorenzo gave me the ready to go signal, but I waited. I always got a kick out of waiting until the just about to be impaled boy realized what was actually happening and about to happen. Javier had become used to the bright day, and he was scanning his surroundings. He had caught sight of Julio, impaled about 12 feet in front of him. He figured it out pretty quick, but we were ready. I gave Lorenzo the go ahead. Lorenzo pushed the boy's feet off the pedestal, and kept him from regaining purchase on them. The boy began sliding down the pole. He began to scream and cursing, while trying to get his legs back up the foot stands. Lorenzo thwarted his attempts. The spreader bar bound ankles made it hard for the boy to put one foot back on the rests let alone two. In his struggle, the boy was unwittingly pile driving himself down the pole. The boy’s screaming and cursing became intermixed with guttural noises, as he felt the tip of the pole press against his innards. Julio was moaning loudly a few meters away, watching in horror as the same fate that had befallen him was inflicted on another. I glimpsed at him a few times, noticing that Julio was struggling against his restrains, though to no effect. I decided not to be distracted by Julio, and put my attention back on the task at hand. I held the increasingly impaled and correspondingly lower boy in place and upright. I wanted to make sure that the pole slid behind the stomach, between the lungs, and missed the heart as its tip inexorably pushed higher up in the boy. Javier was breathing quickly, and had for now given up on regaining his footing. Certainly, the fact that his body now rested a foot lower down the pole made it harder for him to try. He strained against the ligatures holding his arms behind his back, as he fought to avoid the fate we had dealt him. The boy had stopped sliding, and was breathing hard. Sweat was dripping through out his body, and for an instant stopped struggling. The boy kept swiveling his head around and below him as much as his collar would let him trying to grasp what was happening and being done to him. Javier also looked in front of him to Julio, who fully impaled and bound less than four meters away foreshadowed his future state. The boy, after a brief respite, attempted once more to put his left feet back on the foot rest. The spreader bar made it hard, and yet he succeeded on placing the tip of his foot on the rest, but before he could event try to place his right foot on the other rest, Lorenzo pushed his foot off the rest. Both legs dropped down heavily, pushing the pole past some point of resistance, and the boy began sliding down the pole anew. I was familiar with this point of resistance. The pole’s blunt tip had now broken into the boy’s thorax, and the boy was once again sliding down. The boy screamed loudly and writhed, but his efforts were futile. As the pole crept up, it began to force the boy’s posture into a straighter stand, slowly robbing him of freedom of movement. The boy, in growing desperation, kept raising his legs up in a vain effort, and as he was growing tired, he would let them drop heavily, thus jerking his body downwards, and the pole higher inside of him. The clamp which I had strategically placed in the pole kept getting closer to the point were the pole penetrated the boy. Based on this I began to expect that the tip of the pole would be reaching the top of the boy’s rib cage soon. This was another delicate point in the impaling process, for if we did not take care, the tip would break out either through the upper rib cage, or shoulder. Our aim was to have the tip come up straight up the throat, and eventually thread the boy’s lower jaw. One of the reasons we forced the boys to wear the thick leather collar, was that once the pole would come inside of it, it would help us constrain the pole inside the neck, and thread the body, and ultimately be forced to pass through the boys lower jaw. I say ultimately, because normally we did not let the pole punch through the lower jaw right away. Once the boys were mostly impaled, we still had some more abuse to foist on them, and it was only when we were done with that last event that we would let them slide the rest of the way to the floor, allowing the pole to break through the lower jaw and out the boy’s mouth. Javier, would ultimately be no different, but because of his age, older than usual, and his strength, well above average, we had decided we would inflict far more abuse than normal while in his semi-impaled state. If we succeeded now at threading the pole up his throat we would make the boy’s end far harder than any of the boys that had preceded him. I freshened up my hold of the boy by the collar, and forced his neck back, to make sure that the pole would come up his throat. A quick look at the amount of exposed pole left between the boy’s butt cheeks and the arresting clamp in the pole, revealed that the tip of the pole would be coming up the throat any moment now. We got lucky in this respect. I noticed the tip of the pole come up under the boy’s skin, just to the left and behind his collar. A jerk to the left and back, forced the posture of the boy so that the bump created by the pole's tip disappeared inside the boy’s collar. The tip should now be close to the center of his neck. The inexorable descent of the boy, forced the pole inside the confines of the collar. The boy began to writhe anew as the pole now began creeping up inside his throat. I could hear the snorting sounds Javier made as his throat was pressed tighter around the collar. The boy's butt had descended down the pole enough that it began to rest against the clamp, and Javier's descent down the pole slowed, and then stopped. Lorenzo and I were static. We had another successful boy impalement on our hands, the 5th in a row now. We were getting better at this. I came around to admire the sight of our newest impalee. Javier's musculature was amazing, under the full sun, and because of the tremendous strain he had just exercised his veins were in full relief, and you could see just about every ripple of the boy’s musculature. To put a cherry in the picture short of speak, the boy, just as many of his predecessors did, was sporting a ragging bonner barely contained by the tight blue Speedos we had forced on him. In a few weeks those would be on my wall I thought. Those beautiful tight blue Speedo’s which Manuel had traded with me, the same boy who had been impaled on the very same spot where Javier now rested. Somehow it felt very circular. The first part of the impalement was done, but the boy's descent into hell had just begun. Lorenzo and I had discussed what I had wanted done at this point, and we set to it. The boy, was slowly calming down, and getting used to the pressure of the pole in his throat. We had set the height of the clamp such that the pole would not interfere with his ability to turn his head around. This boy would have full view of what was prepared for him, and what was done to him. To begin with, Lorenzo and I took the foot rests off their base, and moved them away, removing any chance and hope that the boy would be able to gain a footrest and escape. This left the boy suspended up the pole, with his legs spread wide apart by a spreader bar. We took two carabineers and used them to clamp the spreader bar to the pole in such a manner that it could slide up and down the pole with out producing any support for the boy. It did however keep the boy from moving the legs forwards or backwards. The boy followed us with his gaze, looking at us incredulously. It was time to have our first post impalement fun with the boy. I stood in front of him, and reached for his bound crotch. I felt the boy’s hard dick over the fabric of the Speedos. As I grasped his member I could feel the boy’s heartbeat, and I could see his chest heave as he breathed. I had a raging hard on myself. +++++++++++ +++++++++++ PART 6: Javier’s end +++++++++++ +++++++++++ At this point in our “boy disposal” process we would normally level with them, and tell them the truth. It was simple really it was like this, “Look kid, we really lied to you, we are not going to let you go. We brought you up here to kill you in the most painfully, long and agonizing manner than we can imagine”. The range of reactions was not very wide and not surprising really. The younger boys tended to scream and cry, and ask for their mom. The older ones would do so too, but would after a while compose themselves and either beg or ask questions like why. This was another phase in the boys torture that I so enjoyed. Their bodies already doomed, mostly naked save for a torturously tight Speedo, and their collar. We further reduced their worth to the entertainment that their suffering would provide us. My entertainment was certainly enhanced when we coldly discussed the range of experiences immediately ahead of them. Sometimes, as had been the case with the previous two boys, we could point to the cadaveric aftermath of their immediate predecessor to bring the point home. That brought the point home more than any words we spoke could. I liked caressing their Speedo bound manhood, as their true fate was being revealed to them. Though in more than one occasion, they boys would pee on themselves out of pure fear. If that was the case I would just caress their chest, and tweak their nipples. When I told Javier he displayed the most hostile response of all the boys that we had brought up here thus far. I could not tell if this was due to him being older than any of his predecessors, or having the benefit of a still living example of his future fate; for we made sure to point to the nearby Julio as an example of what would soon happen to him. His cursing and fury were to be hold, though short lived. Once the heat of fury ebbed the crying and questioning began. The questions went something like this, “why are you doing this?”, “I didn’t do anything”, “why wont you let me go?” I continued caressing the boy’s supple body all the while; somewhat sorry that I had not gotten one more night with the boy, but… no matter, I would have just a bit more time with him now. “Why are you doing this?” he asked again. Well, I told the boy, because it turns me on, and it gives me pleasure. I kept my voice in an even tone, and coldly replied to each of his subsequent questions with truthful answers. It is true that I can not tell a lie well, but I can tell the truth well. The boy, though horrified, appeared calmer, just knowing that he was being told the truth. At least until he asked what was going to happen to him now. I relished the chance to tell the boy. “Well boy, we are not sure exactly what will happen to you, but in a little while we will take the support that is holding you up. Your weight will push you down, and the pole will break through your mouth. You will be fully impaled then. You will be in the same position that the boy in front of you is in.” I pointed to Julio a few meters away. “From that point on we will let nature take its course. The ants, flies and other insects will attack you, other animals might too. If you are lucky, you will die of exposure”. The boy shuddered as he absorbed what I had just told him, and finally went hysterical. Javier went on a new frenzy trying to free his ligatures. He strained with all his might against the bonds that held his arms behind him, and tried to twist his ankles in a hope of freeing his legs from the spreader bar; all to no purpose. He eventually calmed down as he spent his remaining strength. Now breathing hard, I began feeling his crotch again. The boy just had to stand there, forced upright by the pole through his body, breathing hard, utterly powerless, at my mercy to sample his body as I saw fit. I reached into the small pack nearby, and took out the transparent plastic bag with the draw string. Coming from behind the boy, I popped the bag over the boys head, and pulled on the string, creating an air tight seal around the boy’s collar. Instantly the bag began to billow in and out. The boy tried again to free his arms, knowing full well what he was up against. His efforts only used up the air reserve inside the bag even faster. I stood in front of the boy, and delighted on the sight of the boy’s sexy body, as his breathing quickly accelerated in a desperate struggle for oxygen. I began caressing his heaving chest, and once again allowed my hands to drop to his crotch. The fast breathing and my stimulation brought the boy to a semisoft state, creating a delectable bulge in the Speedos. The boy however was growing truly desperate for air. He had reached that point were no matter how fast he breathed he could not get enough air. He breathed in and out as fast as he could, so fast in fact that he emitted a deep horning sound as he rushed the stale air from his lungs to the bag and back. From time to time his frenzied breathing would stop momentarily for a cough, and then resume at an ever faster pace if that was possible. If I had wanted the boy to be done with, I would have had only to keep the bag over his head for another minute, and the boy would have been gone, but what fun would that be. I enjoyed the sight of the struggling boy, gently caressing my rock hard dick. I allowed this to go on until I noticed that the boy was descending into desperate body tremors, and his breathing had begun to break rhythm, I took the bag out. The boy gulped the fresh air, and looked around disoriented, slowly recovering, and blinking; I was having fun. Yet not all the fun was had with Javier. Lorenzo and I went over to Julio, and in a first of its kind, we reminded the boy of how he too not long ago was perched on top of the pole that now impaled him. Lorenzo wiped some ants from the boy’s tits, and played with them for a while. They were raw from the ant bites, and the boy complained loudly as Lorenzo delicately twisted them. While Lorenzo played with Julio, I went over to Javier, and once again, I popped the bag over his head. Javier pleaded from inside the bag not to be subjected to it again, but his wants were not important. Once again, his breathing began to quicken in a predictable, but arousing pattern. This time I was determined to take the boy to the edge of death, and snatch him from its grasp at the last minute. Like before, the boy grew increasingly desperate for oxygen, and began to heave furiously. I groped the boy again, as his body slowly descended into increasingly uncoordinated struggles, which eventually began to cease, as the boys furious breathing suddenly began to stall into irregular and shallow breaths. Just as the boy was about to pass out, I once again took the bag from around his neck, and allowed him to breathe fresh air. However this time, he stayed in a dazed, staring around him not quite understanding where he was. Javier’s hands were still bound behind him, and his legs spread wide apart. His disoriented state was the perfect time to change his configuration. I reached for the boy’s ankles, and began to undo the ligatures that held the spreader bar to the ankles. As soon as I disconnected the bar, I tied his legs together. I stepped in front of the boy, and grasping the waist band of the boy’s tight Speedos, pushed them down to the boy’s knees. The boy’s manly endowment popped out, and I wasted no time. I unzipped my pants, applied lubricant and began raping the boy’s ass one more time. The boy, who had recovered by now, tried to resist, but apart from his arousing verbal objections, I had no difficulty fucking his nice tight butt. I enjoyed myself, taking my time, and groping the boy’s body at my whim. Then after taking my time I slowly approached climax, speeding up my thrusting into the boy’s ass. All the rectal stimulation caused the boys dick to drip some wispy drops of precum, as I finally came hard in the boy. The boy who had had not cummed since Lorenzo captured him, had sprung an erection again, and I began to stroke the boy. It took a while, always did, but the boy began to build up to an orgasm. His breathing began to quicken, but just as he must have felt like an orgasm was with in his grasp, I stopped, frustrating his desire. I would do this again and again to the boy. In my mind I had not yet decided if he would get one last orgasm or not. Now I decided to ravage the boy in a new and humiliating way. I took the wooden peg that I had brought with me, and began to fuck the boy’s but with it. I pushed the blunt end into the boy’s anus, and penetrated the boy. The boy complained and fought this latest form of rape, but it was of no use. The foot long peg went over half way into the boy, and I began to savagely pump his ass with it. The boy swayed back and forth on the pole, as I satiated my appetites on him. The boy moaned as I pushed the peg in and out of his ass. The boy’s prostrated, highly stimulated proceeded to ooze precum. It would not have been hard to force the boy to cum in this state, but I decided to deny him. Instead I grasped his Speedos, and pulled them back up, bounding his genitals again. Then I took the spreader bar that had previously separated his legs, and tied one end to his right ankle, and then I secured the left one, and untied his legs from the post. I pulled on the rope, and gradually forced his legs apart. Then taking another spreader bar, I tied it to his right wrist, and secured the rope around the other wrist. After untying his wrists, I pulled the rope gradually forcing his arms into a fully stretched position. That’s the position I wanted the boy in, as I prepared to whip him again. I took a whip out of the shelter, and approached the boy, who looked at me in terror. This was going to be fun. The sun was nearly at its zenith now, and I suddenly noticed that I was pretty tired. Javier had had it too. The boy was terribly tired, and when ever I stopped tormenting him, he would promptly pass out. Lorenzo had left me alone with the boy a couple of hours back, and was setting camp by the fire circle. It was time to have lunch and a nap. I was looking forward to a nice meal and a well deserved good sleep in the tent. Neither Javier nor Julio would get either any of that. Julio had served its purpose by staying alive long enough to see us impale the next boy. His horrified moans and struggles certainly had certainly enhanced the day. He would serve his second purpose soon, by showing Javier how he was destined to end. Already today the ants had started back on Julio, and I suspected that it would soon become much worst. Just the though, stirred my dick again. It was time to put the toys away short of speak. I came up to Javier, and grasped the two lengths of white cord that tightened the waist band of his Speedos. Giving them a strong tug, I tied them securely together, ensuring that the boy's genitals would be good and contained. Javier woke again, in a daze, and began looking around him. It always took a few seconds for the boy's to remember where they were, as if somehow they kept thinking that it had all been a bad nightmare, but alas, reality kept crashing in. Since he was awake, I decided to let the boy have another water bottle. I reached up, and tipped the open bottle, so that water would flow in his mouth. Javier smacked his lips around the opening of the bottle, and drank greedily, until the bottle was empty. That done, I made ready to leave. Julio made a weak moan begging once again not to be left. Javier stood silent. I turned the corner and headed towards the camp, It was a hot day, and I was exhausted from a series of long days and nights. I needed a nap When I woke up I felt completely rested. I got out of my sleeping bag, and out of the tent. Lorenzo was lying down on a nearby rock enjoying the view from the spot and seeping from a cup of coffee. I stood up, and stretched. Then I took the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. The day was very warm, and I welcomed something to drink. I walked towards Lorenzo and greeted him. He gave me a warm smile and returned the greeting. We made a bit of conversation, then he pointed out to me a few vultures perched on the rocks over the killing spot. I had seen a few of them circling overhead in the last 2 or 3 days, but today there were more of them, and they were circling lower down than usual. It seemed that they were interested in something. Lorenzo and I looked at each other and with out speaking we went back to the tents. Those vultures could only be interested in our boy victims. I took my binoculars, and we headed towards a spy spot where we would be able to observe the killing spot, with out being noticed. Lorenzo and I scrambled over the rocks and came up behind a boulder that sat quietly behind the spot. From there we could see Javier up in his pole, and Julio further away. There were already 2 vultures on the ground, one just about 5 feet from Julio. The bird was certainly interested in Julio, but shy about it. I deduced that the boy’s mouth infection had turned for the worst and the smell of rotting flesh must be attracting the vultures. The vulture took a few tentative steps towards Julio, which standing only 2 feet tall remained outside Julio’s field view. Through the binoculars I could see that the boy was once again under attack by the ants, and though he was breathing he did not seem to be conscious at the moment, and lay still except for his breathing. The vulture took a few more steps, approaching the boy to within a foot. The vulture extended its neck, seemingly smelling the air around the boy. The vulture craned its neck to one side and then the other, suspicious and careful. I knew that vultures tend to be very shy animals, and do seldom attack animals while they are still alive. The vulture took another timid step closer to Julio, and then after a pause, he extended his neck, and pecked at the boy’s belly. Julio moaned audibly, and moved weakly, scaring the vulture, who took a jump backwards. However the lack of flight or fight from the boy, appeared to peek the interest not only of the offending vulture, but that of its companion, who now began to approach himself by taking a few steps towards the boy. I could see a bit of blood coming from the spot where the first vulture had pecked at the boy. The first vulture reversed its retreat, and began to approach the exposed and defenseless boy. The vulture pecked again at the same spot, eliciting the same response from the boy, but this time, the vulture did not retreat. Instead he took a third and more forceful peck at the boy, visibly gashing the boy. On the fourth attempt, the vulture no so much pecked, but bit into the boy, and with a jerking motion of his neck, he ripped a bit of flesh, and tasted the boy. The second vulture came even closer, and now he too took a swipe at the boy, who moaned and wiggled as much as his bonds allowed him, but again it caused no retreat on either vulture. The first vulture pecked again, and the second vulture followed suit. A third vulture landed about 5 feet away, and skipped excitedly towards the boy with his wings part way open. Then partly pushing the two earlier arrivals, he too pecked on the boy. The onslaught of pecks and bites, must have began to hurt, because Julio hollered as loud as he could, and wiggled his shoulders and arms as much as his tight ligatures would allow him. To the vultures at this point he was nothing but a defenseless animal that would be a tasty morsel for their eating. Julio began to wail loudly now. Javier had by this point come to, and tried to help his fellow impalee by yelling at the birds, and to the extent that he could, wave his arms and legs. The vultures looked at him at first with concern, but soon, figured that Javier was not a threat to them, and continued their feeding frenzy. More vultures landed in the killing field, and neared Julio. The boy’s exposed belly now was being worked by over 5 vultures, who steadily were beginning to make real inroads into the desperate boy. Julio pushed and pulled against his bonds with all the strength he had left in a titanic struggle to defend himself. However we had made sure to rob that ability from him, and now the vultures were literally eating him alive. Julio continued screaming loudly, and we could not make out what he was saying. The only phrases that we could make out seemed to be something about wanting his mum. The vultures continued their banquet limiting their pecks at the boy’s belly, leaving alone his face, which was too high for them too reach, or his arms and legs. One of the vultures managed to tear a larger piece of boy flesh than any of the ones that had come before, and walked away from the boy and the other vultures, to eat it away by himself. The boy’s struggles began to weaken, as the vultures began to frenzy around him. Javier at this point had turned his head away, to avoid the sight of his unfortunate fellow’s demise. I could hear him sob from time to time. A few minutes later, the vultures had broken through the boy’s abdomen and had begun to pick at his innards. From time to time, a bird would come away from the group with a piece of the boy in his beak and would walk to a side, to consume it. Some of these morsels I could identify. Segments of the intestines most of them, but in one occasion I noticed a kidney. The vultures would hold down the piece of flesh with their feet, as they ripped the morsel into digestible pieces. When their portion was consumed, they would walk back to the group for more. The boy’s screams had grown softer, and shorter, and though he continued struggling to get free, these had become futile and week. His screams were now monosyllables, mostly a moapy and desperate “No”. The vultures continued to raid into his innards. I could tell when the boy finally gave up. One of the vultures was energetically pulling out what seemed to me to be a segment of the small intestine. The morsel finally snapped away from the boy. He emitted a deep guttural uggh sound, and I could tell his whole body relaxed. He stopped struggling and did not scream any more. One of the larger vultures, who had by his size intimidated his peers, now began to poke his whole head in the boy’s midsection. As the vulture poked and pulled in there, the entire body of the boy shuddered. From my vantage point, I could see that they boy was still alive. His fly infested eyes were open, and tears were quietly flowing down his cheeks. He was still breathing, but he had stopped trying to defend himself altogether. He would not be alive much longer. A pool of blood was forming under the boy, and the gash in his belly was now a gaping and growing hole. I kept watching for another hour or so, as the vultures kept dining on the boy. I could not tell when the boy finally died, but at some point he departed the land of the living. By lunch time, the entire midsection of the boy was gone, revealing the edge of the ribcage, and the pelvis bone. Passing through his now exposed midsection, you could spy the metal pole that had so bounded the boy. Ants, and flies now threw their entire efforts at exploiting the remains of the boy. Hundreds if not thousands of them flew all around, trying to lay their eggs on his carcass. Ants in the mean time were busy trying to bite away what ever they could. This had been very interesting, as this was the first time that I had witnessed a boy being killed by the vermin. I made a mental note of trying to do it again in the future. I quietly abandoned my perch, and headed back to the camp where Lorenzo was preparing lunch. The day had turned hot, and I decided to take a nap. When I woke up, I decided to go check in person what was left of the first boy, and to see if Javier had suffered any attacks himself. Javier still had significantly more freedom of motion than Julio had had, and he was much stronger than Julio to begin with, but that did not make him immune. After seven days of non stop suffering, and unmitigated abuse, the boy probably did not have much left in the tank. When I turned the corner into the killing fields I found a few of the smaller vultures still picking at the last of Julio’s easy soft tissues, and as soon as they saw me, they took flight in fright. I approached the remains of Julio, and examined the mess the birds had made. His guts were totally gone, his nipples had been picked off, but the rest of the body had been left alone by the vultures. The flies were buzzing all around the boy. They were coming in and out of his nostrils and mouth, were maggots could be seen creeping around. The flies were also crawling all over the boy’s open abdomen. In the mean time, a line of ants could be seen marking up and down the boy’s leg. They seemed to be concentrating on the boy’s skinned wrists. With that inspection done, I turned my attention to the very alive, and unscathed Javier, who still suspended up on the pole had escaped any attack. His body might be intact, but his mind was not. The boy had been crying and appeared both agitated and angry. I smirked, and admired his voluptuous body at my disposal. The boy’s tanned skin glinted in the sun, highlighting his muscular development. The small, tight shiny blue Speedos we had forced him to wear, left no doubt of the generous endowment mother nature had bestowed him with. The desire to whip the boy brutally crossed my mind, but that was not the plan. I was there to just hydrate the boy, and provide him with an ample quantity of the same soupy mush potatoes that I had offered Julio a few days ago. Feeding the boy was a bit harder than it had been to feed Julio. The boy was still high up on the pole, and his ability to swivel his head made it hard to force drink or food down his throat. I had to “convince” the boy to accept the drink and water by pinching and twisting one of his nipples. He gave in easily. The boy had been impaled now for a whole day and in our custody for 5. I was itching to complete the boy’s impalement, and perhaps stick around to watch the vermin take care of him, just as I had watched Julio’s end. The time to finish the boy was now. Lorenzo joined me to see the action for himself and to admire the remaining survivor. He was also once again horny, and wanted to use the boy before he took a dump in his Speedo’s. It seemed like a good idea to me. The boy’s hands were still outstretched by the second spreader bar, just like his legs. I reached for the boy’s ankles, and began to undo the ligatures that held the spreader bar to the ankles. Javier looked intently, afraid, and with apprehension. When I disconnected the bar, the boy’s legs hang limp. The boy moved his legs around a little bit trying to make contact with the ground, but it was no use to him. One of the common themes of all the boys was that when their stretched legs were released, they would instinctively try to reach the ground. Alas, we did not give them even that opportunity. Lorenzo reached from behind, and grasped the boy’s tight Speedos, which he then pushed down to the boy’s knees. The boy’s manly endowment now once again exposed, Lorenzo wasted no time. He unzipped his trousers, spit in his hands, and began raping the boy’s ass again. I stepped back, and watched it. The boy did not even try to resist at this point. He just endured it. The sight of the muscular impaled boy helpless with his arms forced outstretched, being raped by Lorenzo was highly arousing. After a few minutes, Lorenzo climaxed, and it was my much desired turn. I enjoyed myself, taking my time, as I fucked the nice tight butt at my hearts content. I also enjoyed myself by reaching around the boy and groping his firm and smooth abdomen and exposed genitals. I spoke dirty to the boy in his ear, letting him know what a good fuck he was. The boy did get a mild hard on, which mortified him, since Lorenzo teased him that he liked getting it in the ass. Then after taking my time I too came thrusting hard into the boy’s ass. All the rectal stimulation had caused the boys dick to drip some wispy drops of precum. I began to stroke the boy, who despite his best efforts not to soon sported a full erection. It took a while, but slowly the boy began to build up to an orgasm. His breathing began to quicken. I had to decide whether to let the boy come one last time or not. We had not let the boy cum since Lorenzo had brought him to the chalet, and I was sure I was going to complete the boy’s impalement in a few minutes. This would be the time to let him have the experience one last time. I decided that I would let him beg for it, and if he pleased me perhaps I would let him have it. I made sure to bring the boy very close again to the orgasm which he now clearly wanted, then stopped. I asked the boy if he wanted to cum, he told me to go fuck myself. I began stroking again, until the boy was almost ready to cum, and stopped again. Once again I asked, and once again he cursed at me. I repeated the process until after many near approaches to release, and being brought back from the brink the boy finally and reluctantly replied yes. I asked him to beg me for it, and once again told me to go fuck myself. I left him alone for a while as his throbbing dick bobbed up and down, and the boy, despite his state, perspired with desire. When I came back and once again I stroked the boy, I made sure to bring him with in a few seconds of ejaculating when I stopped. Once again I asked, and he said yes. He was ready to cum. Once again I asked him to beg, and this time he begged, shyly and barely audible he said, “por favor dejame correrme”. “Louder boy”, I commanded. The boy did it to perfection and right there and then I decided to deny him this last and desperate desired pleasure. I grasped his rock hard dick again, and once again stroked him brining him ever so close. He thought he was going to finally be given release, but then I stopped again. The boy would go to his doom with out release. It was time to set up the boy for his end. I was getting ready to pull back his Speedos when I got an idea to humiliate the boy in one more way. I went back to the camp, and got the wooden peg I had used to sodomize him with earlier. When the boy saw me approach him while holding that item on my hand his spirits sank; and rightfully so. I grabbed his now semisoft dick, and began stroking again, soon brining the boy back to the brink of orgasm once more. I stopped stroking again, causing the boy to moan and protest, his dick bobbed up and down in desperate need for release. I stepped behind the boy, and grasping his Speedo’s I pulled them most of the way back up. Then before they covered his buttocks and dick one last time I took the wooden peg, and pressed its blunt tip against the boy’s exposed asshole. The boy tried to resist as I began to press the object, to drive it into the boy. However hard he resisted, it proved futile, as his sphincter finally lost and the peg entered the boy. At first only the tip entered the boy, but as the smooth long part of the peg began its journey in, the boy gave up. I pressed the peg gently but firmly as I continued to insert it into the boy’s ass. The boy might have expected a replay of his previous experience with the peg, but this time however, I kept pushing the peg in, until the entire length of the pole disappeared between his butt chicks, penetrating deep in the boy’s rectum and beyond. With one last push the boy’s anus closed around the end of the peg, with an involuntarily muscle spasm the boy forced it inside of him. The peg now lodged in the boys innards; he would not be able to push it out on his own, save through extraneous effort. With the boy’s innards now invaded, and the boy helpless to extract the foreign object I had forced in him, I pulled to the next step. I grabbed the waistband of the tight Speedo and pulled it up moving it higher up. The Speedo covered the boy’s buttocks and with one more push I covered his throbbing dick. The boy moaned as he realized that no relief to his animal desire to cum was going to go happen. I reached in the front of the Speedos positioning the boy’s engorged penis so that the Speedo pressed it against his body, forced to point straight up. Then I reached in the front pouch of his Speedos and grabbing his dick, I slid the boy’s foreskin, exposing his dickhead. The boy would meet his end with his dick forced in this position and with the peg stuck up in him. To seal the deal, I took the draw strings of the Speedos and tugged on them, and I then drew a tight knot which sealed the boy’s Speedos. With the boy’s death Speedo now placed and set, it was time to force the boy’s boy in his final impalement position. I took a length of rope, and tied it around the boy’s right ankle. Then passing the loose end behind the pole, I tied it to the left ankle forcing the boy’s feet together. For good measure I took another longer piece of rope, and used it to tighten the bonds that held the boy’s ankles together. Now that the boy’s legs were properly secured, I stepped in front of the boy to admire my handy work. I came up to the boy, who followed my actions with his gaze. I reached up to him, and felt the boy’s doomed but beautifully defined and muscular body. I brought my hand down to the boy’s front where the Speedo’s where holding the boys still engorged member. I rubbed against the garment, eliciting a fresh wave of hardness in the boy’s member. I liked the fact that this boy was under my total control, and that at my choice he would not get to touch himself ever again. I was really enjoying this. I relished the moment, but decided to move on with the process. The next step consisted of brining the boy’s wrists together behind his back. To accomplish this I undid the spreader bar that was holding the boys arms apart, and bound his wrists together, so that palms of his hands were facing each other. Then for good measure I also bound the boy’s elbows together. The boy could have resisted, but he did not. He either knew what was coming and chose to do nothing about it, or knew he could not do anything about it. Perhaps he had retreated to some corner of his mind and was not paying attention. I did not care which reason kept the boy from resisting. Part of me would have liked the boy to put a fight, but the truth is that his lack of resistance made it that much easier to prepare this exceptional boy. The last step consisted of binding the boy’s arms to his ankles. So I picked up the boys legs by the ankles, and bent them by the knees. This brought the boys feet up against his buttocks. The position pressed the invading peg inside the boy to push against his belly making a small bump about an inch under the lower end of the sternum. This combined with the action of pulling down on his wrists to bind them together brought the boy out of his passive state. To which ever extent he could, he tried to straighten his legs, resisting the position that we were forcing him to adopt. However the boy was too late in his attempt. The first ligature had already been made, and it resisted the boy’s attempt. He cursed and begged, begged and cursed, all the while struggling to avoid what he probably already knew was coming his way. With another length of rope, I tightened up the binding between the wrists ligature and the one around his ankles. The boy continued to protest and fight, but it had been too late for a while for him to avoid this fate. The boy was now in the “final position” the boy’s body was supported up the pole by the clamp between his legs, the muscular upper legs of the boy, pointed straight down, while his lower legs were bent back up to meet his arms. In this position his dick and balls showed in beautiful relief, held in check by the nice and tight Speedo. You could even discern the outline of his dickhead. The “final position” was the last position the boy was ever going to experience. The only change would be that once we allowed the pole to poke through his mouth, his head would be forced to stare straight up at the sky. All that was left to do was to reach between the boy’s legs and pull the clamp that was supporting the boy. It could not escape the boy that behind me, the remains of a Julio lay in the same position that Javier was now in. Julio’s body was being consumed by maggots and ants even as we stared at each other. The stench of decomposition could be smelled from time to time when the wind slackened. The boy knew this was the fate we had in mind for him. It was almost time to complete the boy’s impalement. However as it had become our custom, we had to take pictures; Polaroid off course. Ernesto brought the camera and took a number of shots of our doomed boy. As luck would have it, the advancing sun, had come around to the point where the front of the boy was getting just the right light to highlight his assets, and marvelous musculature. I was tempted to stop and rape the boy again, but I knew better. Once Ernesto used up the cassette of film, he motioned to me. We both stepped up to the pole facing him, and I reached between the boy’s legs, and grasped the clamp. The boy was now desperately begging and crying. He promised to do anything we wanted (we were), he assured us that if we let him go he would not tell a soul, and so forth. I loved his begging, it meant we had broken him. Satisfied of our handy work, It was time to proceed. I reached between the boy’s legs, and began caressing the Speedo bound member again, until I noticed a bout of fresh pressure in his member. Then I reached slight lower, and grasping the handle I pressed the release and the clamp. The clamp loosened its firm grip on the pole with a solid clang sound as Ernesto and I said in unison, “Welcome to the rest of your life boy”. We had delivered this line to many of the boys. The face of horror and disbelief that it elicited in the boys was sublime. Javier did not appear to move at first As if held by some unseen force. However, the boy began to emit gagging and snorting sounds. The pole was slowly pushing upwards through the boy; a fact confirmed when I saw the outline of the pole move up the boy’s throat pass the edge of the leather collar. The outline advanced slowly, creeping upwards through his neck. The boy struggled against his bonds anew, but it was to no avail. Millimeter by millimeter the blunt tip of the metal rod pushed its way up. The boy’s knees crept towards the ground. As the tip of the pole reached the bottom of the mouth, it began to push the boy’s head backwards and a bit to the side. The boy’s desperate pleas became distorted and interrupted as the pole physical deformed of his mouth. He was still begging. The boy’s posture became perfectly upright, as the pole pushed his head up. Suddenly, the pole broke through the boy’s mouth with a spurt of blood. The boy emitted a distorted and horrified aaargg!, as the boy began a quicker descent down the metal pole The pole pushed up, forcing the boy’s head violently back, his teeth clanging against the metal. The boy thrashed and screamed as he kept descending. The blunt tip of the pole that now traversed the boy’s body moved away from the boy’s face. The boy convulsed in absolute revulsion and horror to what we were doing to him. I took it all in. The boy screamed and thrashed. his face forced to stare straight up, his eyes opened wide, his mouth too, feeling the smooth metal move through him. The screams muzzled by gurgles form time to time as blood from the wound caused by the impaling pole flowed down his throat. His muscular body strained to the limit, as his entire being was being raped. The moment did not last long, with in a minute the boy’s knees made contact with the ground, and the boy’s descent ended. I had a raging hard on from watching the boy suffer at my hands. The boy was breathing very hard, his head pushed hard back staring almost straight up. His mouth forced wide open and bleeding profusely, and the boy kept struggling for a more comfortable posture, but I knew there was none for him. His neck strained at this extreme angle, his extremities bounded tight and hard. The blood emanating from his mouth did not worry me too much, I knew it would subside relatively quickly, but every few seconds, the boy had to swallow his own blood. I inspected the boy, and took notice that the pole had broken trough just to one side of the base of his tongue. The boy had not even been down there 2 minutes, that I noticed that flies had began to set on the boy, and check out his gaping mouth. The boy now totally immobilized by ligature and pole stood barely 4 feet from the ground, leaving his mouth in the perfect position to take a leak. I unzipped my pants, and extending my dick, I began to pee in the mouth. This would help his mouth stop bleeding. The boy was not thirsty enough to just swallow my piss, but did not have much of a choice. His strained throat flexed as he had to take gulp after gulp of what I gave him. Once I was done, I zipped up, and made ready to head back to camp. In a few hours Lorenzo and I would head back down to the chalet, and the boy would be on his own. Lorenzo and I worked to break camp, packing the tents, sleeping bags, and all other items. When we were finally done, and all items were packed away and ready to go, we rested for a few minutes, and discussed what we had enjoyed about this boy, and what if anything we would have done different. We often came up with our best ideas at this time. We thought that some electrocution torture would be fun to try. We would have to look into that. After a while, we decided it was time to go check on Javier one last time before we retired back to the chalet. Our first stop was Julio, or rather what was left of him. Maggots could be seeing crawling all over his half exposed innards, mouth, and nose. They were taking care of him quite quickly. Some vermin must also be taking meat from the boy, because we could see that a good chunk of the boy’s inner thy had been ripped, exposing part of the boy’s femur. A constellation of flies were hovering around the corpse, as they took advantage of the bounty that we had provided, and in the pad under the boy, a thick line of ants were busy taking the remaining parts of the boy apart. We could see many ants crawling in and out of the Speedo’s waistband. we then turned our attention to Javier. The sun was shining on him from the front, and the boy forced in his final position produced an astonishing view; His abdominal muscles in full relief, with the boy’s Speedo bound package leaving little to the imagination. His chest stuck out forward, and his bent shoulders showed muscular striations. He could of course not see us, as the pole forced him to stare straight up. We sneaked up to him. One of the first things we noticed is that the boy, just like Julio had been at this stage, was being pestered by flies, though not nearly as bad as his corpse was right now. We could also tell that he was not asleep. Every half a minute or so, we could observe the boy tense up, and then after about 5 or 10 seconds of effort relax for a while, only to repeat the process again later. We sat quietly and out of his field of view to observe what the boy was up to, with out him knowing of us. I thought the boy had trickled some pee, because there was a wet spot on his Speedos, which started on the tip of his bound dick, and flowed down some. However, on closer examination I found that it was not urine that was coming out of the boy, it was precum. The wet spot began on the tip of the obvious outline of the boy’s penis. The spot was made by shiny viscous and slightly gooey liquid, which flowed down, slowly extending the wet spot down the Speedo. As I was taking in the sexy scene, the boy began to flex his mid section again, I noticed that a fresh push of precum emanated from the boys dick and onto his Speedos. This went on for about 10 or 15 seconds, and then the boy relaxed again. I was puzzled by this behavior. I approached quietly walking closer to the unsuspecting boy to get a better look. The boy was breathing hard, no doubt tired by the flex and relax cycle that he had been repeating. At first I thought that the boy might be trying to break out of his bonds. Many boys before Javier had tried, and one had even succeeded. We had improved our methods to ensure that would never happen again. The one boy, who had gotten out of the ligature we had used, had done so by dislocating his thumbs. For all his efforts, the only thing he had achieved was to stand up, still impaled. He fought as hard as he could to take the impaling bar out of the ground, with out success (thought he came close) When we caught him loose we forced him back into the final position as he begged desperately to be let go. Then we replayed his impalement. Javier was the strongest boy we had ever tortured, both physically and emotionally. The boy was very tough even for his age, and I had expected, and received great pleasure from torturing him. The boy flexed again, tensing his whole body, and right away I could tell that he was not trying to break his bonds. But what then, was he doing? I came closer to the boy, squatting only feet from him. I peered around the boy, making sure to stay under his restricted line of sight so that he would not see me. The first thing that I noticed is that the back of his Speedos were marred by a brown stain. As the boy began to flex again, I noticed brown syrupy excrement dripped from the gap between his Speedos and the very top of his ass crack. It overflowed and then dripped down, adding to a small pool that was forming under the boy. I also noticed that as the boy strained himself the boy was trying to use his bound hands to reach at his Speedos. There, I could see the outline of the peg that I had pushed in him. The boy had somehow managed to get the peg to come part way out of his ass, but the Speedos we forced on him, kept the peg from being released. So as he strained the end of it produced a bump on the rear of the Speedos; Then I understood. The boy was trying to rid his ass of the invading peg that I had forced there. I could see that each time the boy tensed up the bump would grow, as the peg got pushed out by the boys butt muscles, it made a clear profile of the peg. The boy tried then as hard as he could to reach it with his hand but only the fingertips of his right hand reached and just barely so. However, As soon as the boy relaxed, the tight Speedos would push the peg back in, frustrating the boy’s attempts. I could tell that the boy must be getting increasingly tired, because each time he flexed his attempt lasted slightly less than the preceding one, and the rest in between got longer. Incredibly the back and forth motion of the peg from the boy’s attempts, had acted as a slow rectal fuck, and he was, even in his current condition, sporting a semi hard on capped by drooling precum. I was not willing to risk the boy succeeding in either cumming, or freeing himself from the intruder I had forced in his ass. I retreated quietly, and made preparations to stop that. I went back to the camp, and took out a pair of latex globes, which I put on my pocket. Then I marched right up into the killing field and approached the boy, making sure that he could see, and hear me approach. There, I made sure he saw me inspect him, much like someone inspecting a side of meat. Then I took one of the globes on my right hand, and put it on, in full view of the boy. I reached from behind, and dipped my index finger between his Speedo waist line and his ass crack, causing more of the boys shit to drip out. I searched with the tip of my index finger until I found the peg, and began pressing it back inside. The boy emitted a querulous moan, as the peg began to bury itself back into the boy. He fought with what little he had left, which was next to nothing. Soon, the tip of the peg was flushed with his anus. Reaching further in, I pressed the peg inside of him until once again his sphincter reflex closed up around the peg, and sent it deep inside the boy. The boy sobbed disappointed that all his hard efforts had been negated so readily. The boy had expended all his energy trying to remove the peg, and now he was exhausted, his whole body relaxed as much as the forced position he was forced into allowed him. In the boys taught belly there was now a smooth but noticeable bump where the tip of the peg pushed against the abdominal wall. The boy would be able to feel this tip pressing against his innards any time he flexed; A keep sake from me. The flies around the boy continued buzzing all around, energized by the fresh scent of excrement. Like they usually did, the flies were going after the boy’s mouth, eyes, and nostrils. To punish the boy for trying to take out the peg, I took off the shit covered latex globe that I had used to push the peg back in, and stuffed it inside the mouth, between the pole and the side of his mouth, where his contorted tongue could not easily get to it. The sun was starting to get close to the horizon, and it was time to go. I looked down the boy one more time, and began to step away. The boy begged desperately to be released from his torment, but he should known by now, and probably did, that his only release would arrive when death come for him. ===== I visited the killing field the following afternoon. I was heading back to Madrid that evening, and this would be my last chance to see the boy alive, if he was at all. When I finally got there, I found that Julio’s body had lost most more of its flesh. His forearms and legs had been bitten into deeply, and it was possible to see plenty of the boy’s skeletal structure. Julio’s cadaver however was not quite picked clean, so I did not collect his Speedo’s. I turned my attention to Javier who was still alive, but drifting between delirium and unconsciousness, exhibiting the classical symptoms of both infection and dehydration. I slapped him gently back into consciousness. As was often the case, the boy took a few moments to come to, until he again realized the horror of his situation. He stirred to action, trying to move, but only managed to trigger a Charlie horse on his left leg’s hamstring. Besides that he only managed a twitch of his shoulders. His tongue was badly swollen, and discolored, and when he tried to speak nothing intelligible came out. I noticed that the peg was still wedged inside his ass, as I could see the bump still pressing against his belly. The boy had suffered from diarrhea. The back of his Speedos had a lump of the boy’s excrement. The ooze of precum from the previus day had dried, and it was easy to note that he had peed on himself as well. He really was not doing well. I sat in by him, and took out my lunch and a book that I was reading. I found it pleasant to gaze on the impaled boys, as their life slowly ebbed away. Sometimes I would follow a particular fly as it crawled unencumbered over the boy. It was of particular interest if it went into the boy’s mouth, nostrils, or eyelids, as it was another minor form in which the boy was being raped. After a lovely afternoon however, I had to make ready to go. I had to unfortunately go back to work tomorrow; something that I did not look forward to. I knelt besides the boy, and gently rubbed his Speedo bound dick as I spoke gently to him. These were after all the last words the lad would hear. I told him goodbye, how much I had enjoyed his body, and that this would be the last time we should see each other. I saw an expression on his face that I had seen before in other boys the expression of both sadness and acceptance. The boy had after all come to understand and accept that he was dying, that it would happen soon, and that he was powerless to stop it. I got up and began to walk away. This time, the boy didn’t beg. ==== About a month later I came back to the killing field to prepare it for the next boy, Antonio. What we had planned for him would make all the suffering we had inflicted to our previous victims pale in comparison. One of the highlights of the trip up here however, was the fact that there were two Speedos waiting to be collected. Two Speedo’s wrapped around the skeletons of our victims were waiting to be picked up. The skeletons of both Julio and Javier had been picked clean and dried by now. Javier’s Speedos still around his pelvic bone, and just below them the wooden peg, which he had tried so hard to get rid of. I despoiled both skeletons of their collars and Speedos, and disposed of them on the nearby latrine.