I'll be damned if it wasn’t a shabby, run down, pre-fab kind of shack that they lived in in the middle of nowhere. I was lucky to find it. However, I have to admit the directions given to me over the internet were pretty good. Albert was working in the yard as I drove up and just like some kind of country farm movie he took off his hat and waved to me. This sort of deal is always dangerous, as you never know when it might be a trap from the feds, but this one looked to be ok. I was still fighting jet lag from Asia and had to shake my head a bit to clear it. I got out of the car and walked over to the forty-something bearded, burly guy in jeans and longer underwear top. It really was very much like something out of a movie.
"Mr. Gebhardt?" I extended my hand. This was the moment I would know if I had been smart or a complete ass.
"Yeah, call me Albert. Happy to meet you. I really get off on your stories, so it's kinda like meeting a celebrity, hey?"
"Well, that's very kind of you. Thank you for your fascinating emails too."
Albert smiled and tugged at his crotch, which was pretty fucking big in his jeans.
"Shit, I knew you'd like him. He's just like the kind you write about. Middle school boy, just turned thirteen, real pretty, docile as hell from the daily beatings. He'll do pretty much anything you say."
"When did you begin his training?"
Albert scratched his head now and led me toward the house.
"Oh, about two years ago after his mother died. He was a real hellion, causing trouble in school and everyplace. Nobody liked him. He's always been kinda anti-social. He sticks to himself. Reads sissy crap, shit like that. Always was that way. He did get me into computers and the internet though, I gotta say that for him. I never woulda known the fun if it hadn't been for the little asswipe. It was about that time that I discovered, or rediscovered my love for young boy ass. Shit, I guess I'd repressed it or whatever the fuck you call it all those years. I started to read your stories — I was never much of a reader, sissy stuff — but your stories sure got me going so I tried out some of the things I read about on the little asswipe. And shit to Shinola, he was a natural. No fight in him at all. He got home from school just a while ago, you wanna see him?"
I stood there in the front yard of this dump zone. What should I do?
"If he goes to school, aren't you afraid the counselors or teachers might get wind of what you are doing?"
"Naw, the kid is too scared and beaten down to cause me any trouble. Believe me. I'm gonna pull him from school so's I can really fuck him up, but the state says he's gotta go until he's sixteen. I could never pull off that homeschooling shit you write about. I mean, who would believe me?" He laughed a good-natured laugh. "He's not allowed to talk to or mix with any other kids, and he wouldn't dare confide in a teacher. His grades are mostly D's now so nobody bothers much with him. It's really safe."
He turned and smiled at me again, then yelled at the top of his lungs, "Asswipe, get the fuck out here now. We got company."
A few seconds later the screen door slammed, and this very alluring, lanky, teen boy appeared. He was emaciated because Albert only feeds him when he feels like it. He sends the boy to school with a thermos of his piss and a cum sandwich. At home, the boy eats mostly dog food out of a red doggie dish.
"This is Asswipe. Asswipe, this is the famous writer whose stories I read to you — the one who gives me ideas for our games."
Asswipe was very attractive close-up and really, really docile. He looked at the ground. He had an entirely passive demeanor. He looked lonely and scared. The best look for a teenage boy.
"Are you a good boy, Asswipe? Do you do everything your daddy tells you?"
I lifted his chin so I could look into his eyes. I heard Albert giggle, which was odd for a guy of his bulk.
"Yes, Sir, I try, but sometimes I fuck up, Sir."
Albert hauled off and hit the boy in the back of the head. Asswipe fell to the dirt.
"What do you mean sometimes? You’re a good for nothing cocksucking dick drain. You fuck up all the time. You can hardly do anything right, and you know it!"
"I fuck up all the time, Sir," Asswipe said from the dirt at my feet.
"Do you like girls, Asswipe?" I asked gently, reaching under his tee shirt to feel his lean stomach and up to his pouty tits.
"Yes, sir!" He looked up at me as if it was a sin to like twat.
"Never had a date. Not even allowed to talk to girls. Shit, I was fucking cunt at thirteen. But Asswipe hasn't got time for girls. He's got other duties to attend to like taking care of my big, fat, dripping fuck tool. Right, Asswipe?"
Daddy slapped his boy into the dirt again.
"Yes, sir! Thank you for your cock, Sir!"
It was obviously something he had been taught to say.
"Why did you decide on Asswipe for a name?"
I took my foot and lifted the boy’s face.
"Oh, I dunno. Mark seems so stupid for a cunt like him, and well, I think I gave it to him because after I take a shit, I like him to wipe my ass with his tongue. Of course, he hates it. Says it takes him forever to get the taste of shit out of his mouth, but I think it's kind of funny."
"Oh, I totally agree, Albert. It's splendid training for a teenage boy. I know several boys, even younger than him, who are full-time, toilet ass wipers. He's very lucky to have such a caring father."
Albert let out a roar and kicked the boy in the ribs sending him over in the dust.
"You hear that, Shitface? What do I always tell you? You’re lucky to have someone like me who cares about you."
"Thank you, Sir," gasped the teenager.
"Well, why don't we go in the house? I imagine you wanna fuck the boy. He's got a delightfully tight ass. I shove everything under the sun up there, but I make him do those ass exercises like you describe in your story and it really works."
"Oh yes, a boy should do thirty minutes of ass exercises a day to keep his cunt hole tight."
I was relaxing.
"Yeah, I keep it tight, so we can continually stretch it open again."
Albert laughed and kicked his son indicating the boy to crawl to the house. I reached down and took two handfuls of the boy’s sweet, teen ass globes. Then while he crawled, I gently kicked his legs wider and wider apart making it harder to make any progress. Then I hauled back and kicked the kid right in the teen nuts.
"Oh yeah, bash those baby makers real good!" Albert roared.
Asswipe rolled over into the dirt. I spit on his face.
"Who told you to turn over? Now, crawl like your father told you to do."
I could see the waves of pain pass through him.
While Albert made dinner for us, some excellent steaks, I gave the teenage boy a traditional fuck. I had him suck my dick and then I fucked him on his back and then doggie style. His hole was wonderfully tight. Well, the hole itself I could tell it had often been fucked, but the muscles gripped my dick like a virgin on her wedding night. The boy never made a sound all during the fuck, not even when I slapped his balls. He just suffered in silence. I finally shot off all over his face and had him lick me clean. I took photos of him during my visit. You can see his very passive attitude. I fucked him again and this time shot up his boy-cunt. I made the boy spoon my cum out of his own ass and eat it while Albert and I watched.
While we ate our steaks, Albert gave the boy a doggie dishful of dog food that he asked me to piss in for a special treat. Of course, I obliged. After dinner, we relaxed and made the kid dance naked for us, and then we beat his balls and ass. I showed Albert some skillful scrotum beating techniques that really got the kid howling. We burned the soles of his feet a bit and made him dance some more. Albert shoved several large kitchen utensils up the kid’s ass. We double fucked him, face and ass at the same time, trading places now and then.
I suggested we both try to get our massive dicks up the kid's asshole at the same time. That was a struggle believe me, and I thought the kid would go out of his mind with pain. It was the most active and attentive I had seen him yet. We played yank dick with the boy stretching out his prick and whipping it with a coat hanger. We made fun of its size, which actually seemed to hurt him more than some of the physical pain. I showed Albert how to shove things up the kid's piss hole to cause maximum pain with minimal damage. I advised him that the pisshole should be enlarged considerably so you can get a little finger up there — and speaking of suggesting stretching.
"I hate to be critical, Albert, but that asshole needs a lot more stretching. If the kid was nine or ten that would be one thing, but shit, at his age, you should be fist fucking him regularly."
"I'll get on it right away, Dale. After all, you’re the teacher here. You’re the pro. You hear that, Asswipe? He says your cunt hole is too small!"
The kid was sobbing bare-assed on the bed.
"I'd also recommend some serious nipple work on the boy. Those tits should be standing out like fucking erasers. He should hardly be able to wear a shirt they’re so sensitive. I'll email you a series of nipple stretching games you can play with him."
"I am so grateful to have you as a new friend. I hope you can stop back from time to time to help me with this miserable cunt boy."
"I'd be happy to. And now, if you could point me to the bathroom, I gotta shit that great meal out of me. I fucking ate too much."
He smiled and pointed at the teenage boy on the bed.
"There's your toilet right there."
The boy let out a sigh.
"How about it, asswipe, would you like to eat some shit?"
He looked up at me with tears streaking his soft, young cheeks.
"Yes, Sir," he whispered unconvincingly.
My dick jumped.
"Well, let's get to it then, shall we?"
"Hey, Dale," Albert hovered, his own thick dick leaking slop. "I know this may be a bit personal, but he is my kid and all. Would you mind if I watched you shit in his mouth? I never saw nobody else do it."
"Albert, I'd be honored. If it's one thing I am not, it is shy about my body functions. We can even take turns, a turd from me and a turd from you as we watch his slender, little tummy bloat. When we finish, we can make him barf it all up into a bowl and then eat it again. How does that sound?"
"You are one wild fucker, mister!"
I had never been called that before—a wild fucker—but I guess, maybe it's true to some small extent. I'm sure he's waiting anxiously for my next visit. We're going to have him pull us around the farm hitched to a wagon by his balls. Should be fun.