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.