Message-ID: <12834eli$9807071544@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/12834.txt>
From: "Dream Spinner" <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: ST:  At Their Mercy - 03 (m/m, m/t, b, Mind Control)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <19980707051932.13978.qmail@hotmail.com>



You read in the newspapers every so often about stalkers pursuing
someone and making their lives a living hell.  Usually the person
being pursued is a celebrity, and the stalker is usually a man after a
woman, or more rarely a woman after a man.  The rarest was a recent
case of a man having a sexual fixation for a male producer.  Well, two
weeks ago I started being stalked.  I'm a forty- four-year-old
accountant, not a celebrity.  I'm five-foot-ten, a hundred-and-eighty
pounds, and work out in the gym so I'm solidly built although I admit
I do have a bit of a spare tire.  I guess I'm average looking,
starting to thin at the temples and to get a bit of grey in the chest
hair.  

My stalkers are two eleven-year-old boys, dark-haired, dark-eyed Jay
with a perpetual sassy look, and blond-haired, blue-eyed
innocent-looking Tyler, and a precocious nine-year-old by the name of
Billie.  With the simple utterance of the word "shithead" they have
complete control over my mind, and they snap me out of it just as
easily with the derogatory "asshole".  The two words perfectly reflect
their opinion of me and their attitudes in general.  They have
imprinted a command in my mind so I am unable to tell anyone what is
happening to me, not that what they have made me do is anything I'd
want to share with anyone.

The boys feel quite differently about sharing that information.  After
they have had their way with me, they make me write what has happened
so they can post it on the net.  In the first two stories, the boys
asked anyone reading what I've been forced to write to e-mail them via
the person posting these stories for them, and they ask the same for
this story.  They love getting more ideas about what they can do to
me, and they love sharing with me any praise given them or derogatory
comments about me.  Now, what you are about to read is one of the
ideas from a reader the boys followed up on this afternoon.  The boys
send their thanks.


		    At Their Mercy, Part 3


    When the doorbell rang this afternoon, my heart leaped.  Only
three days ago, last Wednesday night, I had received a phone call from
Jay to let me know that he had still another e- mail in response to
the first story which told how the boys had gained control of my mind
and made me the object of their bathroom humour, and that we'd have to
get together again soon.  He had me memorize what the guy had written
and repeat it back to him: "Thanks for the hot story.  I love those
cool dudes who have taken over your life.  They are so cool.  I'm so
happy that they have found a guy like you to provide them with some
entertainment.  I can't wait for the next installment."

    Jay said before he could do the things this guy suggested, he had
this other really neat idea from another reader called C*****.  Then
he laughed this evil laugh and told me to have a nice day.  So, when I
opened the door I fully expected to see Jay and one or more of his
buddies, and I was not disappointed.  Jay, Tyler, Billie and two of
his friends I did not know stood there with these
cat-that-ate-the-canary grins.  One of the new boys looked to be about
nine and I figured to be Billie's friend.  The other boy was older,
probably fourteen.  I wondered if either of them was in the alley
behind the school in my last encounter with my stalkers.

    "What do you boys want?"

    "Now, that is no way to greet us, shithead."

     I stood there staring at them helplessly as I felt my willpower
drain away.

    "Now after this, whenever you see us, you'll address us as Master
Jay, Master Tyler and Master Billie, got it shithead?"

    "Yes, Master Jay."

    "Say it like you mean it, like you are our obedient slave and you
live only to serve us."

    "Yes, Master Jay," I replied obsequioustly, and the boys glanced
at each other and giggled.

    "You want to please us, because that is your job as our slave.
When we tell you to do something, you'll jump right to it as fast as
you can and with a smile on your face, no matter what it is.  Got it?"

    "Yes, Master Jay," I replied, a wide grin passing over my face
despite the anger and frustration I was feeling.

    "We'll have to think of a proper name to call our slave," Jay said
to Tyler and Billie.

    Just then the doorbell rang and my heart leaped again.  The first
time the boys had put me under their control there had been five of
them, and the next time they had me perform in front of two dozen of
their classmates in an alley beside their school.  I fully expected
this to be more of their friends, and I dreaded how many.  I opened
the door, and to my surprise, there stood Bradley Straton, a young
apprentice that had been working in our office this past year.  He was
a handsome, athletic, twenty-five-year-old stud, and a smooth talker
and a smooth dresser besides.   He was the type of man women swoon
over, and Bradley knew it.  Bradley was as arrogant and conceited as
he was good looking.  He felt he was God's gift to women, and he never
passed up an opportunity to let us know.  Besides that, every Monday
morning he was more than willing to tell us male co-workers all about
his sexual exploits over the weekend.

    "Bradley, what brings you here?"

    "I don't know," he replied.  I immediately had a suspicion
although I could not see how that could be.  "I just had this
overwhelming urge after lunch to come over here."

    "Well, come in."

    "Hey, boys," Bradley said with surprise, "What are you doing here,
selling more of your lemonade?"

    "No," said Jay, "we were feeling bored so came over here for some
entertainment."

    "You know each other?" I asked.

    "I was out jogging after work the other day like I do every day,
and it was especially hot, when these two boys show up and offer me a
thermos of ice-cold lemonade," he said, indicating Jay and Tyler.  It
tasted fantastic."

    "And with his blood racing with the heat and his jogging, it
worked even faster than it did with you, Mr. Wallace."

    "Worked?" Bradley asked with a puzzled look.

    "Fuckin' right, shithead," Jay said.

    The look of confusion and then vacancy in Bradley's eyes told me
that he too had been drugged and had been made to fall under the boy's
control with the same cue.  I wondered just what the boys had made him
do as I thought back to my first encounter with them.

    "This is Straight Boy's first time under our command," Jay said as
if he had just read my mind.  "The only thing we did last Thursday was
tell'm that he had to come here this afternoon.   You don't mind us
calling you Straight Boy, do ya?"

    "I'm accustomed to children calling me Mr. Straton," he said, his
irritation at Jay's insolence and familiarity evident in his tone.

    "Well, you're gonna have t'get accustomed to being called Straight
Boy, because  from now on the three of us are gonna call ya that, and
you're gonna like it, understand, shithead?"

    "Yes," he said obediently if not sincerely.

    "Should we start?" Jay asked the others.

    "Sure," they all agreed readily

    "Show us to your bedroom, Mr. Wallace."

    "Yes, Master Jay,"I replied, smiling broadly as I wondered why
that room.  I did not like the possible answers.

    Bradley looked at me with surprise but said nothing.  Having been
there twice myself besides today, I knew the confusion and internal
turmoil he was going through.  Upon entering the bedroom, the five
boys immediately flopped down on the bed.

    "Would you mind taking off your runners?"

    "Yeah, we'd mind.  You mind if we leave them on?" Tyler asked
impertinently, purposefully scuffing his on the comforter.

    "No, Master Tyler, whatever you wish."

    The boys exchanged glances and satisfied smiles while Bradley
continued looking on in surprise and confusion.  The oldest boy
laughed.

    "What should we make these shitheads do first?" Jay asked.

    "For starters, how about we make them kiss each other," the oldest
boy suggested.

    "You heard Jarred, do it."

    I slowly turned to Bradley, and he slowly turned to me, like two
robots in slow motion.   As we approached each other and cocked our
heads, I could see in his eyes how desperately he was fighting what
his body was doing.  I knew he had no choice, and that he might just
as well accept what was happening.  Our lips met for a quick peck.

    "Fuck, that wasn't a kiss," complained Jay.  "Now kiss each other
like you mean it, like you see a guy and woman kissing in the movies,
or we'll make you do stuff you'll really hate."

    I had no idea what I could possibly be made to do that I hated
more than kissing another man, but I knew the boys were only acting
out ideas they had gotten from some fellow on the net, and who knows
what sort of things they'd been told.  I was still having difficulty
believing that anyone would read the things I've written, and even
more difficulty accepting that anyone would send preteen boys an
e-mail telling them things to do to a grown man.  As Bradley and I
held each other and kissed passionately, I wondered what else the boys
had in store for us.

    "Now that was much better.  What do you think Jarred?"

    "Yeah, it was.  Did you like that, Straight Boy?"

    "No," he replied honestly.

    "Don't you like kissing?"

    "Women, yes."

    "What do you think about kissing a man?"

    "It's disgusting," he replied, making a face as if he had a foul
taste in his mouth.

    "Aw, that's really too bad.  I guess you'll just to have to keep
kissing each other until you do like it, starting right now."

    We embraced and kissed again.  Over and over our lips met in long,
passionate kisses, just like in the movies as Master Jay had put it.
The only difference was this was a forty-four-year-old man and a
twenty-five-year-old coworker.  Jay finally stopped us after about
five minutes.

    "Now, we've all seen you naked, Mr. Wallace," Jay said, confirming
that the two new boys had been part of the gang in the alley earlier.
"We'd like you to strip Straight Boy here for us."

    "Now just a minute," Bradley said as I obediently turned to him.

    "Shut your mouth and let him do it," Jay snapped.  "You'll only
speak when we say, and you'll let us do whatever we want, understand
shithead?"

    "Yes," he replied although his eyes said otherwise.

    I unbuttoned and slid off his shirt.  His pecs were solid and
tanned, and his chest smooth and hairless.  I dropped to my knees and
untied and removed his shoes, and then slipped off his socks.  I'm not
into feet or anything kinky like that, but I could not help notice how
perfect they were compared to my stubby toes and thick toenails.
Trust the handsome stud to even have good-looking feet.  Unbuckling
his belt and unsnapping the clasp of his trousers, I pulled down his
fly and eased his trousers down his hips and helped him step out of
them.  He had strong, muscular legs, the legs of a jogger, and the
blond hairs were sparse and barely visible.  He stood there in his
blue Fruit of the Loom jockey shorts, his face flushed a bright red
with embarrassment.  The boys all hooted and cheered and neither of us
could do a thing about it.

    "Com'on, take off his underwear!" called Master Billie.

    Slipping my hands under the elastic band, I could not help but
notice how smooth and how warm his skin was to my touch.  I very
slowly eased down his briefs, not that I was trying to tease the boys,
but because I've never stripped a man before.  I was embarrassed doing
it to him, and he was doubly embarrassed having it done.  As I eased
his briefs down he instinctively put his hands in front of him but
Master Jay was quick to tell him to put his hands at his sides.  He
stood there stark naked, staring at the floor and looking like he
could die of shame.  I knew how he felt, having been forced to expose
myself under the boy's command, and I knew there was worse yet to
come.

    "Hey, lookit his dink," said Billie's friend.  "I've never seen a
dink that looks like that."

    "Why's it different from yours, Mr. Wallace?" Billie asked.

    "Mine is circumcised, Bradley's is uncircumcised."

    "What's that mean?"

    "Circumcised means the bit of skin that covers the glans of the
penis has been cut off.   Men refer to a penis that's been circumcised
as being cut, and one that's not as uncut," I continued, compelled to
tell the boys everything I knew.

    "Freakin," said Tyler.

    "So, what's this glans thing?" asked Jarred.

    "The bulb at the end of a penis," I replied, feeling like a
biology teacher.

    "So why do some people have it done and others don't?"

    "It's part of some religions, like for the Jews, and a lot of
doctors think it should be done because it's healthier and easier to
keep the penis clean.  If you don't wash the bulb regularly stuff
builds up under the skin."

    "Dick cheese," the fourteen-year-old said knowingly and the others
giggled at the term.

    "So, how can ya wash it if it's covered with skin?"

    "You have to pull the skin back."

    "Oh yeah?  Show us," said the nine-year-old as if this was a
kindergarten show-and-tell class.  Actually, as I thought about it, it
would have been only four years ago that he was in kindergarten!  That
was a weird thought as I looked at him now sitting there on the bed
with his buddies and staring at the naked man standing before him.  I
glanced at Bradley.  He was standing there embarrassed as hell having
us talking about him and being unable to object.

    "Well, com'on, ya heard Darren."

    As I reached over and held up Bradley's limp penis, the boys all
moved to the foot of the bed to watch.  I was surprised how different
it felt holding another man's penis.  Although a man holds his own at
least once if not more often each day, it is totally different having
someone else's in your hand.  Maybe that's because you're so use to
the feel of your own.  Anyway, not only did it feel strange holding
another man's cock, I found it disgusting.  I've never touched another
man's privates in all my life, and I'd been raised to believe to do so
was filthy and wrong.  Despite those feelings, I had to do as my
masters said, and more.  Dutifully, I squeezed his knob gently with my
thumb and first two fingers and very slowly began to draw his foreskin
back.  The dark purple knob began to peek out from the skin collar and
the boys murmured and dug each other in the ribs.  I continued to draw
his skin back, staring down at what I was doing so I did not have to
see the look of embarrassment and frustration in his eyes.  Exposing
his dark purple glans, I continued to draw the skin back until I had
stretched it down the shaft, exposing the pinkish-white flesh directly
below his knob.

    "Freakin'," said Tyler again.

    I let go of his penis and the foreskin immediately crawled up his
shaft and back over his glans to it's normal position.

    "Hey, lookit it!  How'd ya do that Straight Boy?"

    "I ... I didn't do it.  It just does that by itself," he replied,
struggling with talking about sex with a bunch of kids, and struggling
with having them control when he did speak and when he didn't.

    "Kewel!" said the two nine-year-old boys together, and they looked
at each other and giggled.

    "Do it again, Mr. Wallace," commanded Master Billie.

    "Yeah," the others all encouraged.

    Once again I took the young man's warm, flaccid cock between my
thumb and first two fingers and slowly drew back his skin.  Once again
it slid back into position as I released it.

    "So," said the oldest boy, looking at Jay.  "You gonna make them
do it or what?"

    "Yeah, I said we would," Jay said, sounding a bit uncomfortable
for the first time since I'd known him.  As I looked at the boys
sitting at the foot of the bed staring at my naked colleague and then
at Jay, I wondered if maybe he had a bit of a conscience after all.

    "So what we gonna make them do?" asked Billie.

    Jay looked at Tyler with what I figured to be a desperate look,
and then at me.

    "What's the matter?" asked Jarred.

    "Nothing," said Jay, now definitely uncomfortable.  "C*****
suggested we make them do sex together and we will."

    "How can guys have sex together?" asked Darren.  "I know how a man
and women have sex, but a guy don't have a pussy."

    "C***** said," Jay began, pulling out a folded paper from his back
pocket and reading from it, ". . . ask what are the different ways two
guys can have sex with each other.  The old guy has to tell them."  He
looked up at me with a curious look.

    "It could mean several things," I replied as the command that my
job was to please them again came to the forefront, along with the
objection to being considered old at forty-four.

    "So tell us, how do two guys have sex," Jay pressed, and I
realized what the problem had been.  Despite all his bravo and despite
the perverted things he'd been making me do, he was only eleven, and
he had the experiences and knowledge of an eleven-year-old, although I
have to say he had to be more evil than most.  The problem was, he did
not know how men had sex, and couldn't see how that could be possible
either.  He couldn't admit he didn't know to his friends, and he
couldn't be sure the person who'd written to him wasn't putting him
on.  He wasn't going to risk being made a fool of in front of his
friends by some stranger on the net.

    "Well," I began, "they could jack off together, or jack off each
other."

    "What's that?" asked Darren innocently.

    "You know, like he did in the alley.  Wank it," Jay replied,
quickly having regained his confidence.

    "Oh."

    "Or they could engage in oral sex."

    "What's that?" asked Billie.

    "Use their mouths," I explained.

    "You know, cocksuckers," Jarred elaborated, and the two younger
boys smirked at each other.

    "Or there's anal sex."

    "I know what anal means," said Darren proudly, "asshole."

    "Can a guy really stick his dick up another guy's asshole?"

    "Yes."

    "That it?"

    "Pretty well.  There are other things, fetishes, that guys do that
turn them on."

    "Like what?"

    "Well, like feet for example.  Some people get really turned on by
people's feet."

    "Umm, Billie, wanna have sex with my foot?" Darren asked with a
grin, and the others laughed.  "How can ya have sex with a foot?"

    "A man could massage another man's feet, or jack off another man
with his feet, or lick his feet and stuff like that."

    "So we gonna make'm have sex or what?" Billie asked impatiently.

    "Sure."

    "So what we gonna make'm do?"

    Jay thought for a moment, and then turned to Bradley.  "So, if a
woman didn't wanna fuck, which of those would you like most to do to
her?"

    Bradley didn't need to think.  He'd probably engaged in all of
them at one time or another.   "Definitely fuck her ass."

    "Then that's it," announced Jay, and Bradley looked at me almost
apologetically for having mentioned it.  "Mr. Wallace'll fuck Straight
Boy's ass."

    Bradley looked at him and then at me in surprise.  He had fully
expected it to be the other way around.

    "You'd like Mr. Wallace to fuck your ass, wouldn't you."

    "Yes," he said obediently but reluctantly.

    "Com'on, bend over and wiggle your butt and tell Mr. Wallace how
hot you are for him and how badly you want him to fuck you."

    Bradley reluctantly turned around and bent over.  Wagging his
butt, he parroted, "I'm really hot for you.  I'd do anything if you'd
fuck my butt."

    "Beg on your knees."

    Bradley dropped to he knees.  "Please, Mr. Wallace.  Please fuck
me.  I need to feel your cock up my butt."

    The boys all hooted and laughed and high-fived.  I felt sorry for
him, being forced to beg not just another man, but a senior colleague,
to do such a demeaning thing to him.  It had to be even harder
considering what a womanizer he was.

    "So go ahead, Mr. Wallace.  Take off your pants and underwear and
fuck him."

    I did as I was told, quickly stepping out of my pants and my
briefs, memories of the previous week coming back.  Even though all of
the boys there had already seen me naked, and not only that, had seen
me masturbating, I still felt embarrassed standing there before them
in only my socks and shirt.  Bradley got down on his hands and knees
and I got in position behind him.  I began to stroke myself.

    "Hey, ya ain't supposta be wanking it, yer supposta be fuckin',"
said Tyler.

    "I have to get it hard first," I explained dutifully to my master.
"I'd never be able to get it in if it wasn't hard."

    Tyler looked down sheepishly and I was reminded again just how
naive these boys really were in some respects.  As I continued to play
with myself, I also reminded myself that their innocence was quickly
being lost.  Despite my mental rejection, my body responded physically
and I was soon stiff.  Shuffling up to Bradley, I pressed my stiff
cock against his hole, but it was too tight, and my cock either slid
up his asscrack or down between his legs.  There was no way I was
going to get it in him despite how badly I wanted to please my
masters, and it was beginning to hurt.

    This was a totally new experience for both of us, and for the boys
for that matter, and was not as simple as one might think.  It
certainly was not something I nor Bradley had ever even thought about
until now, and neither had much of an idea how to go about it.  Porn
has never interested me, and in fact, has disgusted me, and my young
friend evidently wasn't a purveyor of such either.

    However, I was desperate to do what my masters had told me to and
I used my imagination.  Spitting on my finger, I slipped it up his
hole in an attempt to get him looser.  I followed that with two
fingers, and then three.  All the while Bradley squirmed and panted
hotly with equal desperation and the boys laughed and commented on our
efforts as they sat there on the bed watching.

    "I'm going to need a lubricant."

    "What's a lubricant?" asked Jay.

    "Something to make his hole slippery so I can get my erection up
it, Vaseline or butter or something."

    "How about spit?"

    "Yeah, great idea, Billie," observed Jay.  "If ya fill his asshole
with yer spit, that should make it good and slippery," Jay suggested.

    "Yeah, put your lips against his asshole and spit in it!" laughed
Tyler.

    I immediately fastened my lips to his puckered hole and worked my
saliva into it amidst the boy's calls of suckhole and ass-sucker,
laughter, and exaggerated gagging.  After several minutes I withdrew
my face, my chin and lips smeared with spit, much to the amusement of
my three masters.  I once again got behind Bradley and positioned my
stiff penis at his now spit- dripping hole.  I slowly felt my cock
begin to penetrate him.  He grunted with the effort, as did I.

    "Hey, they're grunting like pigs," observed Master Jay and the
boys all laughed.

    "They're really hot for each other," observed Billie.

    "He's doing it, our slave's getting his dick up Straight Boy's
ass!" Tyler shouted excitedly.

    "Far out!  A guy really can stick his dick up another guy's
asshole."

    Having pressed my cock in as far as I could, I paused for a moment
feeling proud and happy that I had pleased my three masters and I
grinned at them while another part of my mind screamed that this was
immoral, and doubly wrong doing it in front of a bunch of boys.  The
boys gave me the thumbs up sign, evidently not feeling the same, and
they high-fived each other with wide grins themselves.

    I slowly began to ease my cock in and out of the handsome young
man that I really barely knew even though we worked together.  I was
now knowing him more intimately than anyone else in the office.  As I
slowly fucked him, I could not believe it.  There I was, a
forty-four-year- old bachelor, fucking the butt of a young straight
womanizer on my bedroom floor while four prepubescent boys and a
fourteen-year-old sat on my bed watching us like we were some live
porno show.  Actually, as I think about it now, I guess that is what
we were.

    "So, how ya like gettin' yer butt fucked, Straight Boy?"

    "Its . . . strange," he managed to answer.  Although I could not
see his face, I could sense his anger and his shame.  I was
embarrassed fucking him.  I could not even imagine how embarrassing it
must be to have a group of boys watching you getting fucked.

    "Tell Mr. Wallace how great its making ya feel, and tell him to
never stop."

    "This is making me feel great.  Don't ever stop," he said blankly.

    "Fuck, man, you're gettin' me pissed off," snarled Jay.  "Now say
it like ya mean it or you're gonna get kicked in the nuts."

    "This is really great," he said more enthusiastically.

    "What is?" Jay asked as he got off the bed.

    "Getting my ass fucked really feels great," Bradley continued.
"It feels so great I don't ever want you to stop."  Although his voice
was saying it, I knew that in his mind he was screaming that this was
not happening to him.  I knew he was feeling just as dirty and used as
I was at that moment.

    Despite my disgust at what the boys were making the two of us do,
I soon felt my climax approaching and I could not help but speed up.
I grasped my young partner's hips tightly and thrust my cock in and
out of his hot, grasping hole like I'd been doing this all my life.
The boys cheered me on and told my partner to do so too.

    "Oh yeah," he groaned.  "Fuck me.  Fuck me hard, Mr. Wallace.
Ohhh, this feels so good!  Do it to me!"

    I did, and I shuddered a minute later as I pumped my load into his
body.  As I grunted with my release, the five boys cheered.  Totally
spent, I finally had to stop to catch my breath.

    "Wank him off, slave."

    "Yes, Master Jay."

    With my cock still up his butt, I reached around and grasped his
stiff organ in my hand.   He was aroused from the hot fucking I'd
given him, and it only took a few dozen strokes to bring him the rest
of the way.  His load squirted out onto the bedroom carpet in thick,
white ropes.

    "That was great," Jay said as we finally separated.

    "So, should we make them do one of the other ones?" Darren asked.

    "Naw, we don't wanna wear the old farts out," Jay observed.
"Besides, we can come over and make them do anything anytime we want."

    "There is something I'd like them to do before we leave," said
Jarred.

    "Sure, what's that."

    "That idea about feet sounded wild.  I'd like them to lick my
feet."

    "All right.  You heard Jarred.  Take off his Nikes and socks and
get on your hands and knees and beg to lick his feet."

    We did as we were told, dropping to our knees at the foot of the
bed and each removing a sneaker.  The typical aroma of a young boy's
feet after being confined in hot sneakers all day wafted up through
the air much to the joshing and laughing by the others.  Tyler held
his nose and Jarred jabbed him in the ribs.  We removed his socks.
His feet may have had a sneaker odour, but they were clean.

    "Please, Jarred, let me lick your foot," I found myself saying.

    "Me too, please, I have to lick your foot, Jarred."

    "Say pretty please with sugar on it," suggested Billie.

    "Pretty please with sugar on it," we parroted and the boys rolled
over on the bed with laughter.

    "Go ahead," he said, and we immediately bent our heads and began
to lick the fourteen- year-old's feet.

    They were salty, and a bit acrid from his sweat, but not that
repugnant.

    "Suck on my toes, starting with the big one," he commanded.

    I slipped my mouth about his big toe and began to suck on it as
Bradley attacked his left foot.  Two grown men keeling there on the
floor eagerly sucking on the toes of a fourteen-year- old boy!  Who
would have believed it!  And how much more demeaning could things be?

    "Too bad you're feet aren't really dirty.  They could have toe jam
to eat," giggled Billie.

    "Toe jam and dick cheese," observed Darren and all five of them
giggled.

    Jarred stopped us, and standing up, he dropped his jeans and
stepped out of them.  He quickly did the same with his boxers.  He had
a little patch o blond hairs at the base of his cock but none on his
balls, which where hanging in a large, loose sack.  His limp dick was
four inches long and two fingers thick.  I noticed he was cut.  He had
to be well hung or partially aroused.   "Okay," he said, "I want you
to start at my ankles and lick all the way up to my crotch and
butthole."

    I obediently got on hands and knees and began to lick, running my
tongue around his ankles and then slowly proceeding up the slender
calf.  If I wrapped my hand about it, I would have almost been able to
touch my fingers and thumb his calves were so slender.  Bradley was
obediently licking his other leg.  As we began to lick the inside of
his thighs he squirmed and giggled and told the boys that it really
tickled.

    "It must feel great too," Jay observed, "your dick's gotten hard."

    Bradley and I both looked at his swollen dick.  It was sticking up
in the air at an angle, five inches of hard, aching boy meat.  We
continued our licking.  As I proceeded to his balls and began to lick
the loose, dangling nuts, Bradley worked his way around to the back
and began licking up his asscrack and tonguing his asshole.  The young
teen squirmed with excitement and his cock jerked excitedly before my
eyes.  His balls were salty from sweat, and had a strong, musky boy
aroma.  After several minutes of this, he laid down on his back on my
bed and told us to lick his dick.

    Kneeling on the floor on either side of him and half lying across
the bed, we began to lick his swollen cock and inhale the musky boy
odour of his hot genitals.  I could not believe what was happening,
two grown men on their knees lapping at a young fourteen-year-old
boy's hot, stiff boy dick like it was a popsicle on the hottest day in
July.  That was what I was doing, and in my slave's mind, that was
what it was like.  I ran my tongue from the base of his balls along
the smooth shaft and over the glans to the tip, swallowed my
dick-flavoured saliva, and then repeated it as Bradley did the same on
the other side.  Our audience hooted and cheered appreciatively.

    The young teen suddenly moaned and thrust his hips upward and his
first squirt of his boy cumm erupted from his hot, throbbing cock.  It
shot straight up into the air and then fell back down, striking his
now tight balls and oozing down them to soak into my bed.  It was
followed immediately by a squirt of equal volume that landed in his
spit-soaked hairs in a slimy blob.  The third splattered his left
thigh and the fourth his right.  By this time it had lost it's force
but not it's volume and more throbbed out of his irritated organ and
flowed down it like wax from a melting candle.  The other four boys
just sat there staring at him in awe, too surprised to speak.

    Having been told to lick his cock and having no orders to stop,
Bradley and I continued to run our tongues up and down the shaft, now
licking up his hot, salty boy cumm as we did so.

    "Oh yeah," he groaned.  "Lick it off, lick it all off me you
fuckin' cocksuckers!"

    He'd unloaded a lot, and for the next several minutes Bradley and
I scooped the slimy, white goo off his thighs and nuts with our
tongues.  I was disgusted by the act and nauseated by the taste and
the smell, and it had to be even worse for a stud like Bradley, but
neither of us had any choice.  We licked up and swallowed his cumm
like it was cream despite our mental objections.  Jarred finally had
us stop.

    "Oh fuck. that was fantastic!" he sighed.

    "Man, you squirted so hard you almost hit the ceiling!" said Jay.

    "Yeah," agreed Tyler.  "I thought ya was never gonna stop
squirtin'!"

    Jarred looked at the two boys appreciatively, his flushed face
reflecting not just the pleasure from shooting off his load but now
pride too.

    "What is that stuff anyway?" asked Darren.

    "That's the stuff that makes babies," Billie informed him
knowingly.

    "I thought only men could do that."

    "Guys can, once they're old enough," said Jarred, proudly running
his fingers through his spit-slick hairs.  "Oh fuck, lookit the time.
I gotta get home," he said, leaping off the bed and reaching for his
clothes.  If I'm late for supper, my mom'll have a cow!"

    "Yeah, it was time we was all goin'," Jay announced getting off
the bed.

    "From now on, whenever ya see each other, yer gonna think about
this afternoon," he said to us.  "Yer gonna ache to have Mr. Wallace
fuck your ass again, and yer gonna ache to stick yer cock up Straight
Boy's asshole again.  Yer both gonna want it so bad yer gonna get
woodies just seein' each other, understand?"

    "Yes, Master Jay," I replied and Bradley agreed.

    "It's been fun," Jay said with a grin.  "You'll be sure to write
up a good story," he said looking at me.  "I'll drop by later to pick
it up, and we can talk about next weekend's wild party."

    "Yes, Master Jay," I replied as my heart sunk to a new low.  What
else could the preteen monster be planning?  Surely this was the worst
that it could get.

    "Well, we'll see you assholes," Tyler said with a knowing look at
Jay.

    We stood there helplessly as the boys left my bedroom and we felt
ourselves coming back out from under their spell.  We could not look
at each other as we quickly got dressed and left my bedroom.  Neither
of us could find the courage to say the words we had to say.  Although
we both knew we'd done these filthy things with each other against our
will, we were too ashamed to talk about it.

    I do know that as Bradley headed down the walk to his car, he was
dreading having to go to work Monday just as badly as I was.  Even
though I fully planned on avoiding him, I knew that was not always
going to be possible, and we both knew what our reaction would be,
thanks to our two masters, when we did meet.  At least I knew I was
not going to have to suffer listening to Bradley's latest sexual
escapade at coffee break on
Monday.



-- 
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>