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Beach Boy Models

(MB) (anal, oral, fist, ws) (humil) (nc, rape)

It was a sunny day at a beach in Florida, a deserted stretch of beach on one of the peninsulas, where I found the two eleven-year-old boys fooling around bare-assed or almost bare-assed in one of the public bathhouses. I had brought my camera to shoot some scenery as background to a story I was working on, but the scenery of the two beautiful young pre-teen morsels was much more appealing than rocks and sand and sea. I heard giggling coming from the bathhouse changing room. It was quite early in the morning, and no other cars had been up in the parking lot, so I was interested in the sound of young boy voices. I moved quietly to the entrance and listened to the conversation.

 

"It is too growing. It’s even bigger than it was last week," said one boy.

 

"Well, I can't see any difference. Look, my balls have fallen and everything. See how full my fucksack is?" the other boy responded and they both giggled.

 

"Fucksack, who taught you to say that?"

 

"Jeff."

 

"Have you ever seen his?"

 

"My brother's? Sure I see it almost every day for shit sake. He walks around the house bare-assed when Mom and Dad aren't home."

 

"God, could I come over some time to see it? Is he big?"

 

"It’s like a fucking salami. He says I'll get as big as he is if I jerk off every day and start fucking girls by the time I am thirteen like he did."

 

I could not believe my luck. The only thing that could have made it better would have been to have Jeff (who I later learned is all of fifteen) there with us. I stuck my head and my camera into the bathhouse. The two boys were standing with their bare asses facing me, their shorts pulled down around their ankles, and they were looking at their pre-teen dicks in the mirror. They were both beautiful boys, both starting to go through puberty with sturdy, well-developed, little bodies for their ages. Of course, their fuckers were tiny, but their ball sacks had fallen as Skeeter the larger of the two boys had said. Skeeter was Jeff's brother, and a beautiful family it must be. The other boy, Billy, was no slouch either, and I certainly wouldn't throw him out of bed – once I got him there. Well, I wouldn’t throw him out until I had fucked that pretty, little ass so deep and hard he couldn't walk for a week. As you will see from the pics I took, their eleven-year-old asses were really special – perfectly formed little boy bubble butts, just developing some muscle, yet still smooth as velvet. I snapped the picture, and they heard the click of the camera and spun around, their little dicklets and balls bouncing. When they saw me standing there with my camera, they threw their hands over their dicklets and turned bright red.

 

"Good morning, boys. That picture will look great on the front page of the newspaper. Two young perverts arrested for having sex in the bathhouse."

 

They didn’t know what to say. They stammered and stuttered as they tried to pull up their shorts. It was so fucking funny that I snapped a couple more.

 

Skeeter threw one hand in front of his face to cover it, exposing his little babymakers. I snapped another.

 

"We didn't do nothing, mister. You can't take pictures of us," he squawked. "We weren't having sex, we were just changing."

 

"Changing into what, out of what? Maybe, I should call your parents on my cell phone. Or the police. I heard you talking about your cocks. I heard the perverted stuff you were saying."

 

"No, honest, mister, that was just, that was just..."

 

"Well, what's it going to be, your parents, or the police, or your minister? Or, maybe, all three and your school."

 

"Oh, God, pleeeeaaaasssseeee, don’t tell anyone. We didn't mean nothing bad."

 

Their voice rose in pitch as they pleaded.

 

"Maybe, if you got down on your knees and begged me..."

 

They tried to scramble down onto the filthy concrete floor, but their shorts twisted around their legs and they couldn’t move.

 

"Lose the shorts then you can kneel better." They kicked off their shorts, not thinking, and kneeled down. I snapped more pics. Fuck, they were real beauties, a real find. There they were two bare-assed eleven-year-old boys kneeling on the filthy concrete floor of a bathhouse.

 

"Pleeeaaaassssseeeee," the wailed together like it had been rehearsed.

 

Skeeter put his hands together like he was praying. His sweet suntanned face looked up at me, all freckles and pug nose. Billy saw what he was doing and clasped his hands together too. Their thin naked arms and their hairless armpits were so sexy. I wanted to eat them. I would.

 

"How old are you boys?"

 

"Eleven!" they shouted in unison, wanting to please me.

 

"Shame on you boys do faggot things together at eleven. You should know better. Are you little homosexual faggots? Are you gay?"

 

Gay was the currently popular word young boys used to taunt each other for being less than manly. Everything bad was "gay."

 

Billy just moaned and shut his eyes. Skeeter tried to reason with me.

 

"We're not gay, honest, mister. We weren't doing nothing."

 

"Yeah, that's what you say, but my pictures prove otherwise. Have you ever fucked a cunt?"

 

"Huh?" Skeeter gulped. Billy opened his cute eyes.

 

"Have you ever stuck your dick in a twat, Assbreath?"

 

The two trembling boys looked at one another.

 

"Ugh, no..."

 

"Then you are probably gay!"

 

"Honest, mister, we are not."

 

"I can't hear you. Crawl over here closer to me."

 

The two boys crawled bare-assed across the bathhouse floor toward me. It gave me a terrific hardon.

 

"Oh, god, don't tell my Dad."

 

Billy sniffed back some tears. I looked down at the two perfectly shaped asses below me.

 

"What option do I have? I can't allow you to go unpunished for such perversion."

 

"My brother Jeff can tell you we're not faggots. He's older. He fucks girls."

 

"Do I see your brother Jeff here? Okay, tell me his cell phone number, and I'll call him and tell him I found you jerking off and playing with each other in the bathhouse and ask him if he thinks that’s queer."

 

I would have done that too, just for the fun of it to see where the humiliation led. I had no specific plans, but my eyes kept going to those beautiful eleven-year-old asses. Skeeter screamed, his voice cracking.

 

"Nooooooo, don't call Jeff. Don't tell him that. I mean, it's' not true. We weren't doing that. We were just looking at them to see if they were getting bigger."

 

"Spread your legs. Let me see those pathetic things."

 

"I wanna go home, Billy moaned.

 

"I think you want to go to the police station. Your parents can pick you up there."

 

They spread their legs showing me their just forming dicklets and marble sacks.

 

"Shit, you call those dicks? You'll probably never be able to fuck girls. They don't look like they're growing at all. They look like dicks on a six-year-old boy. Not much more than a clit on a girl."

 

"Huh?" Skeeter, who was proud of his development, whined.

 

"No wonder you're faggots. You haven't got normal dicks. Most boys your age are twice as big."

 

"We're not faggggggoooootttttsssss,"

 

Billy was crying openly now. And I knew that what I was doing was for the boys' own good. I unzipped my cargo shorts and hauled out my over eight-inch hard on.

 

"Now this is a dick."

 

Neither boy had ever seen a cock that size, I could tell. They looked at it like it was Godzilla attacking Tokyo. I let it bounce in front of them as a drop of moisture formed at the pisshole.

 

"This is man dick. Look at yours. You," I pointed at Skeeter, "stand up and put your dick up here next to mine. Let’s compare."

 

"I, I don't want to. I just wanna..."

 

"Get on your feet, Fuckface. Stand over here. Put your clitty right up alongside my cock. Don't be afraid to rub up against my dick, it won't bite you. There now, look at that ridiculous peanut you've got. Your dick isn’t even as long as my cockhead for Christ's sake. And, you’re in here with your little faggot buddy jerking those stupid things and probably sucking on them too."

 

I hauled my scrotum out of my shorts.

 

"Look at these balls. These are real cunt-filling babymakers. Real man balls. Not like yours.Feel them."

 

"Please, mister..."

 

"I said put your hand under them and feel them. Weigh them with your hand."

 

He put out his small, smooth, little boy hand and lifted my nuts. Have you ever had an eleven-year-old boy hold your nuts? Fun!

 

"Those are real fuckers, cum filled nuts, not little bee bees like your useless things."

 

"I'm only eleven. I'm just a kid." Skeeter cried.

 

He was still holding on to my balls. He must have been enjoying it very much, or he was scared to let go.

 

"My dick was three times your size at eleven. No, you two are faggots. Little dicked, gay little faggots just one step away from cocksucking."

 

Both boys just started to cry then like water taps being turned on. Tears poured down their faces. I laughed and took out my cell phone.

 

"Who wants to give me their telephone number first?"

 

Both boys cried harder.

 

"Okay, I guess I just call the police."

 

"PLEASE, MISTER." They cried in unison again, like a little duet.

 

"Look, I don't really give a fuck what you faggots do as long as you don't molest decent kids, but you ruined my whole day. The best light is gone, and I was supposed to do a photo shoot today for a major magazine. Now, it's too late all because of you."

 

"WEEEEEEERRREEE SOOOOORRRRRYYYYY."

 

I looked at my watch.

 

"And now I'll never make it over to Whispering Pines for that nudist camp photo shoot."

 

Skeeter twisted up his face. Maybe it was my awful improvisation. Whispering Pines indeed.

 

"I suppose you never heard of the nudist camp over at Whispering Pines? I thought you two were from there until I saw you playing with yourselves and jerking your clits."

 

"Please, mister."

 

I was getting tired of the “please mister” shit.

 

"I was supposed to shoot a youth and nature layout for the nudist camp magazine, but now I'll be late, and the whole deal will be fucked. I'll lose ten thousand dollars. Oh, well, your parents will just have to make it up to me. I'll sue them."

 

They were so fucking confused by now it was hysterical. Skeeter was still holding my balls, which caused my dick to drip onto his wrist and arm.

 

"You're gonna sue my parents?" Billy, the wuss of the two, wailed.

 

"What else can I do? I gotta have at least a dozen pictures tomorrow of young nudists for the national magazine. All right, your begging has caused me to have compassion on you. I'll make a deal with you."

 

"Yes, mister?"

 

Both pairs of beautiful, long-lashed boy's eyes lit up.

 

"I'll forget all about this and not tell your parents or anyone for a tradeoff. I don't wanna lose my contract with the nudist camp, so you let me take some pictures of you naked on the sand dunes and the beach. I'll say you are from the nudist camp. We'll use fake names, and nobody will know."

 

"You want naked pictures of us?"

 

Skeeter, red-faced and chewing his lower lip, let my balls go at that and stepped back.

 

"Nothing sexual you little asswipe I'm not a pervert like you are. Just nice, innocent, nature shots. The only people who read the fucking nudist magazine are other nudists so nobody you know will ever see it. And, I can keep my ten thousand dollar contract."

 

Nothing sexual indeed. Ten minutes later I had them out on the sand dunes.

 

"Spread your legs wider. Lift one leg. Perfect.”

 

I was shooting their small, beautiful dicklets and balls, and their assholes. Little eleven-year-old boy Lolitas as the website that would buy them would say. Little fuck toys as I would say.

 

"Arch your back. Stick your titties out more. Keep your legs spread."

 

I had them where I wanted them. I threatened to show these pics to the police and their families unless they posed the way I wanted them to. After fresh tears and threats, they finally agreed.

 

"Okay, Billy, reach back and spread your ass cheeks for me. Show me that sweet, virgin cunt."

 

Billy cried, and I had to get out my cell phone and actually dial the police station before he screamed for me to hang up as he spread his ass cheeks as wide as he could. Ah, life is wonderful – eleven-year-old naked boys spreading their asses for me.

 

"Now, Skeeter, stand next to Billy, look at his ass and play with your dick. Come on, Faggot, move it, I'm losing my patience. I told you before Skeeter, stick your tits out more."

 

I snapped away.

 

"Now, let’s get some shots of you two boys pissing. Don't be shy, if you're good boys, your sisters and parents will never see these. No, you don't, don't cover your clittys with your hands when you piss. They’re so small, I can't see them, put your hands on your hips and push your hips forward. Now piss."

 

The little eleven-year-olds pissed for me.

 

"Now, just for fun, turn to each other and piss on each other’s legs. Oh, yeah. No, no don't step back Billy, get into that piss stream. Now, lean back and see if you can get that piss stream onto each other's tummies. Don't fuck up now. You're doing really well. Let's go back into the bathhouse, okay?"

 

Humiliated beyond belief, they followed me like humbled slaves, not even talking to each other. I had taken their shorts and told them they would only get them back if they were good. Otherwise, they would go down to the police station bare-assed. Now, I got creative with the boys.

 

"Okay, how about some nice friendly kissing shots."

 

Both boys looked at me like I was nuts.

 

"I want you to kiss each other. What’s so bad about that? You've kissed your parents. Now, get to it."

 

At first, the kisses were shy, little pecks. Both boys looked disgusted, but I soon threatened them into some real spit-swapping, French action.

 

"Come on, faggots, kiss each other, suck spit slop."

 

Billy had to run to the toilet and puke. He just couldn't take kissing another guy. I laughed at that, but Billy in the stall gave me some ideas. I took some pics of him writing on the stall wall with a magic marker I had. FOR A GOOD BLOW JOB CALL BILLY MARSHALL AT (555) 555-5555.

 

Then, I had Skeeter write cocksucker, boy cunt, faggot, fairy, cumdump, fuckhole and homo with the marker all over Billy's body. And then, because he had the smaller ass of the two, I fucked Billy. I really split open his little ass. Skeeter didn’t say a word. I made him watch. He knew that if he was a bad, little boy, he might be next, so he was a very good, little boy.

 

His body covered with obscenities and my eight inches stretching his virginal boy-cunt almost to tearing, Billy was like a wild animal trying to get away. I slammed him into the stall wall and fucked as deep and as hard as I could while hanging on to his mop of brown hair. Then I pushed him down and had him crawl naked across the floor, my cock embedded in his boy twat until we were at the urinals, and I pushed his face into a piss clogged trough. He was so small, so frail, so weak that I shot off while holding his head under the lake of piss with one hand and pulling his tiny stomach into my fucking cock with the other. He fluttered like a dying bird. I filled his ass with cum, then I pulled out, my big cock making a sucking noise as it turned the little boy ass inside out. Then, to cement the boys' friendship, I turned to Skeeter.

 

"You fuck him now."

 

Billy, only semi-conscious, was lying on the concrete floor, his face half in the urinal. His ass was so hot with cum dripping from the swollen, stretched, red-raw, ass lips.

 

"Please don't make me do that, mister."

 

I had no more time to fool around. I slapped the kid half a dozen times making his head swing back and forth with each whack. When I finished, he was dizzy, and his face had hand prints on it.

 

“You got thirty seconds to get your clitty hard and up his ass, or I fuck you."

 

He looked down at my still thick, shit-covered, hard cock and he sobbed and ran over to Billy and knelt down beside him.

 

"I'm sorry Billy," he cried.

 

He was frigging his own dicklet until I thought he would pull it off.

 

"Oh, God, Skeeter, don't do it." Billy, hardly able to move, moaned.

 

"He's not even going to feel that fucking thimble after my cuntstuffer, so what’s the big deal? Fuck him NOW!"

 

Eleven-year-old Skeeter fucked his best friend in the ass. Both boys were sobbing, tears and snot running over their faces, and I knew their friendship was somehow over for good. I mean after you rape your best friend’s asshole, things are bound to be a bit strained between you.

 

"Fuck him harder. Come on, deeper. Shit, it's hopeless, your dicklet is too small. Here,” I roughly took Skeeter’s fingers, put them together, and then forced them into Billy's stretched out asshole, “pull out. Shove your hand up him instead."

 

"Now, you have thirty seconds to get your hand into that asshole cunt, or I'm going to shit in your mouth."

 

Skeeter yelped like a wounded coyote and shoved his fingers up his best friend’s stretched out, just fucked cunthole. I walked over and wiped my shitty dick off in Skeeter's hair just to give him an incentive. When I left the bathhouse, Skeeter was in up to the wrist and couldn't get out again. Hitting his head against the porcelain of the urinal, Billy was hoarse from screaming.

 

"TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT! OH, GOD! OH, GOD! IT HURTS! TAKE IT OUT!"

 

"HOLD STILL! I'M TRYING! .I CAN'T GET IT OUT! I CAN'T GET MY HAND OUT!”

 

I took the boys' clothes with me.