...

Biker Bar Gangbang

Mm, anal, oral, cbt, humil, nc, rape
Regnar S. Reklaw

"We shouldn't go in there," Willie protested with a longing glance back toward his brand new l957 Chevy which was parked askew in a ditch.

 

"Of course we shouldn't go in there," Tad answered his friend in disgust. "We shouldn't be out this late on a school night. We shouldn't have driven your new Chevy out on the Old Loop Road to see how fast it would go. We shouldn't have run it into a ditch. We shouldn't, but we did. So what do you want to do now, walk ten miles back to town or a few hundred feet to that tavern and call your father for some help?"

 

"My daddy will kill me when he finds out," Willie whined, "he told me never to go near that place."

 

"Well, he's going to kill you about the car," Tad explained in exasperation, "phoning him from the tavern won't make any difference and will save us a ten-mile walk."

 

"We shouldn't," Willie hung back as his friend walked on ahead.

 

"Come on, baby," Tad goaded his friend and Willie, who was too afraid of being thought to be afraid, followed like a lamb.

 

The tavern was a ramshackle roadside inn with a half burnt out neon sign that read "T v rn C ld Be r" and a dirt parking lot containing an old pickup truck and a row of dirty motorcycles. The tavern had a bad reputation with respectable persons not only because it was frequented by bikers but also because the bikers were never seen with any biker chicks. Words like 'fairies,' 'queers,' 'faggots' and 'fruits' were muttered about the bikers. Young men from the mill or the college who frequented the place had bad reputations and no respectable man, young or old, ever admitted openly to going into the bar although many of them had remarkably detailed knowledge of what went on inside.

 

"Come on," Tad was annoyed by his friend's hesitancy as he stood outside the tavern door waiting for too timid Willie to catch up, "We'll just use the phone and get out. Five minutes and then we'll go back to the car and wait for your father."

 

Tad pushed the door open, and Willie followed him inside.

 

The tavern was a big square room with a bar running down one side and six broken down mismatched tables randomly arranged upon the cracked linoleum covered floor. The floor was dirty, the walls were dirty, the tables were dirty, the bar was dirty, and the atmosphere was dirty with the odors of stale bodies, stale beer, and stale smoke hanging in the air, while wafts of stale urine wafted from the restrooms in the rear. The only things dirtier and more odious than the room were the dozen unshaven and unwashed bikers lounging about the tables and the bar.

 

The room fell silent, and twelve pairs of sullen eyes turned upon Tad and Willie as they entered the tavern with their fresh washed faces and their freshly washed preparatory school clothes. From behind the bar, a sweaty, fat man in a dirty apron beckoned with a soggy, gray rag to the boy's to step up to the bar.

 

"What do you boys want?" he asked gruffly as Tad and Willie approached.

 

Tad for all his bravado before with Willie was too abashed by the seedy conditions of the bar and its clientele to immediately speak. Willie was just plain too frightened to say a word.

 

"What ya want?" The barman's tone lowered as he repeated his inquiry.

 

"We know what they want," an intoxicated voice called out thickly.

 

"Well, I can give 'em what they want," another drunken voice added.

 

"We all can," the bar patrons all laughed at this suggestion, a laugh as dirty as everything else in the bar.

 

"Shut the fuck up!" the barman snapped before turning back to Tad and Willie. "I don't serve no minors. How old are you?"

 

"Fifteen," Tad finally found his voice, but it was slightly cracked.

 

"Sixteen," Willie's voice was so low that he might as well have mouthed the words.

 

"Ya gotta be twenty-one," the barman snapped as he rubbed his dirty rag over the dirty surface of the bar.

 

"We don't want a drink, Mister," Tad was hesitant but polite, "we just want to use the phone."

 

"This is a bar, not a phone booth," the bartender growled.

 

"We can pay, sir," Tad explained as he slid a hand into the pocket of his gray flannel trousers and pulled out a few neatly folded dollar bills. "My friend ran his car into a ditch. We need to call his father to come pull us out."

 

"You don't have to call Daddy," a tall, brawny biker dressed in soiled leather and tarnished chains rose from a table close to the bar, "my boys can pull you out."

 

"Sure fucking can," a chorus of eager voices concurred as the big biker sauntered over to the boys.

 

The big biker stood next to Tad and put one booted foot on the bar rail. Tad wrinkled his nose as he caught the scent of stale sweat and unwashed clothes and moved a little further away from the muscular mountain of unwashed male flesh.

 

"That won't be necessary, sir," Tad respectfully but readily declined the offer, "Willie's dad can do it."

 

"If you call Willie's daddy," the big biker said as he casually dropped his leather booted foot from the bar rail and stretched himself to his full height, "Willie will get in trouble. If my boy's pull you out, his old man doesn't ever have to know."

 

"Let him do it, Tad," Willie whispered in Tad's ear as he drew his keys from the pocket of his gray flannel slacks. "I don't want my daddy to know."

 

"Why don't you give your keys to Piston?" the big biker addressed Willie as he pointed to a burly blond biker who was lounging next to the jukebox by the door. "Him and Reb can get your car out and bring it here.”

 

Piston was joined at the jukebox by a small, dark biker wearing a dog collar, who sidled up remarkably close to his big, blond buddy. Reb laid his head against Piston's broad chest as the burly biker put a beefy arm around the younger man's waist. Embraced together they sauntered over to the bar, where Piston held out his free hand for Willie's keys.

 

With a look of fright mingled with disgust, Willie shied away from the embracing bikers, as he held out the keys in his trembling hand.

 

"We better go with them, sir," Tad suggested as he stayed Willie's hand, "so Willie can drive."

 

"Reb can drive," the big biker said as he stepped closer to Tad, "You boys can have a drink with us while you wait for them to bring your car."

 

"No, thank you, sir, we'd better go," Tad refused the unkind offer and taking a step backward from the towering bulk of the big biker bumped into Willie who was pushed back against Piston's hard shoulder.

 

"Give me the keys, punk," Piston growled as he reached over Willie's shoulder and snatched the keys from his hand.

 

"Take a fucking seat," Reb snarled as he shoved Willie away from Piston and towards the nearest table, "Piston's taken."

 

"Wait a minute!" Tad protested as he reached out to draw Willie back.

 

"You too," the big biker barked as he shoved Tad in the same direction as his friend, "get your ass over there."

 

Tad and Willie were too stunned and frightened to resist. They stumbled over to a dirty table and sat down. The big biker followed the boys and sat down between them as Reb and Piston left by the tavern door. The rest of the bikers quickly gathered around the table like vultures surrounding a pair of dying animals in preparation for a feast.

 

"What'll you boys drink," the big biker asked.

 

"Nothing, thank you, sir," Tad replied in a subdued tone.

 

Willie could only look nervous and shake his head.

 

"You two boys think you’re too good to drink with us?" the big biker snarled as the gang pressed around the table and murmured ominously.

 

"No, no, Sir," Tad protested as he smiled weakly in an attempt to mollify the gang, "we're under age. We can't have a drink."

 

"You're fifteen," the big biker turned friendly and smiled but not with his eyes only with his yellow teeth, "you're old enough to drink if you're old enough to fuck."

 

The men around the table laughed and nudged each other at this remark.

 

"Fucking, right," one said.

 

"Give the boys a drink," another crowed, "they're plenty old enough to fuck."

 

The gang laughed again.

 

"Beer for my new boys, Sam," the big biker called to the bartender.

 

"Shit, Wolf," the bartender complained, "I'll lose my fucking license."

 

"Lock the fucking door," Wolf, the big biker commanded, "We'll make this a fucking private party."

 

"Fucking ace!" the gang cheered.

 

One of the gang peeled off from the crowd around the table and snapped the lock closed on the front door, while Sam waddled out from around the bar with two pitchers of beer, which he set before the boys.

 

"Drink up," Wolf commanded the two teenagers.

 

Tad and Willie looked at the foaming pitchers with dismay. Neither one had ever done more that have a sip of his dad's beer.

 

"Drink the fucking shit up," Wolf was back to snarling and showing his yellow teeth.

 

Tad took the handle of the pitcher that was set before him and lifted the jug to his lips. He took a small sip from the frothy contents before putting the pitcher down. Willie sat so frozen with fear that he was unable to speak, move, or drink.

 

"These fuckers don't know how to drink," a fat biker behind Tad roared as he grabbed Tad's pitcher and took a healthy swig before passing it to the crowd. The other pitcher too was taken, and the gang around the table quickly drained them both before returning them refilled to the boys.

 

"Now drink up, boys," Wolf commanded.

 

Tad picked up his refilled pitcher to take a little sip, but as his lips touched the rim, Wolf put his hand on the bottom of the pitcher and held the jug up to Tad's mouth. Tad took several deep gulps as Wolf tipped the pitcher up and forced more of the contents to Tad's lips. Tad could not swallow the cold brew fast enough to keep his mouth from overflowing. Beer ran down his chin and dripped upon the front of his red and white striped button down shirt.

 

Willie tried to reach out for his pitcher but could not bring himself to touch it. A helpful biker grabbed Willie by his red hair and pulled his head back, while an equally helpful friend poured the contents of the pitcher into Willie's gaping mouth. The boy coughed, choked, sputtered before spewing beer upon the gang.

 

"Fucking asshole, you were told to drink that shit," the helpful biker roared as he pulled Willie by his hair from his seat.

 

Tad immediately leaped to his feet to defend his friend and the burly bikers standing behind him immediately forced to sit back down.

 

"Sit down, mother fucker. Leave Crank alone," Wolf snapped as he put his dirty hand on Tad's shoulder, "he's just gonna teach your fucking friend a lesson in good manners."

 

Crank, the helpful biker, swung Willie around by his hair and dragged the boy away from the table to the center of the floor.

 

"Ow! Ow! My hair," Willie cried as tears filled his eyes and he tried to keep his feet.

 

"Shut up you fucking cry baby, or I'll give you some shit to cry about" Crank shouted as he released Willie's hair to slap the boy across his tear streaked freckled cheek.

 

The force of the blow sent Willie reeling. He fell against a vacant table and sprawled across its top. He lay on its dirty surface in a huddled mass trembling like a wounded rabbit before a beast of prey. He lifted his disheveled head and fearfully looked back at Crank. From his seat across the room, Tad could see blood trickling from the corner of Willie's mouth and the red bloom of Crank's handprint upon his friend’s pale cheek.

 

"Leave him alone," Tad protested as he felt rough hands hold him down before he could start to rise.

 

"You better forget about your fucking boyfriend, he's Crank's now." Wolf leered at Tad as he spoke, "You just worry about who your fucking boyfriend's going to be."

 

Crank took Willie's wrist and drew him from the table to his feet. Willie leaned back against the table edge to support himself while he put one hand to his red cheek and tried to stifle his sobs.

 

"Take off your shirt off, cry baby," Crank demanded. "Show your daddy what you've got."

 

Willie leaned further back against the table to draw himself as far away from Crank as he could. He snuffled as he tentatively put a hand on the button-down collar of his cotton shirt. For a few moments, he fumbled with the button without opening it, and then he dropped his hand to his side and hung his head.

 

"You fucking son of a bitch, I told you to take your shirt off," Crank barked. "Do it, or I'll do it for you. Take it off, fucker. Do it! Now!"

 

Willie flinched at the sharpness of Crank's barked command, but otherwise, he did not move.

 

Faster than a mongoose strikes a cobra, Crank leaped forward and with both hands tore open the front of Willie's white cotton shirt. The fat biker's powerful hands quickly tore the shirt apart and stripped the tattered rags from Willie's body. The boy did not have time to react before Crank struck again with both hands to tear the stunned teenager's fresh white tee shirt from his arms and chest. Willie was too timid to put up a fight, but with instinctive modesty, he crossed his arms over his nearly hairless, neatly freckled chest.

 

Willie was a varsity swimmer and had a swimmer's body with lean hard muscles stretched tightly over a slight frame. Except for his head, which was covered by a short crop of flaming red hair which had been disheveled by Crank's rough hand, he kept his body hairless by shaving every day to increase his speed in the water or so he said. Like most natural redheads, his skin was fair and freckled, and he turned a bright pink all over when he blushed. He was in no danger of blushing as he stood with his arms covering his bare chest and the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

 

"Let's see them pretty titties, boy," Crank said as he reached for Willie's wrists.

 

"Don't! Please, don't touch me!" Willie screamed and started to cry.

 

"Shut the fuck up, cry baby, I don't want to hear no caterwauling," Crank snapped as he backhanded Willie across the mouth.

 

Willie's head snapped to one side as his body twisted and collapsed in a slow spiral to the dirty barroom floor.

 

"Stop him, please, Wolf," Tad begged the big biker to save his friend.

 

"Shut up, cocksucker, just watch the fucking show," was Wolf's only reply.

 

Tad looked all around him and saw that all eyes in the biker gang were focused on the lurid scene before them. Willie lay upon the floor stripped naked to the waist. His boyish face was bruised on both cheeks, and he was bleeding from a cut in each corner of his mouth. Over him stood a brawny biker with his fat belly hanging over the top of his worn jeans, his greasy hair was dark and shaggy, his scarred face was unshaven, and his eyes burned brightly with lust. As he looked at Willie's exposed chest and the boy's tiny, pink nipples, he licked the saliva from his cruel lips.

 

"On your knees, cocksucker," Crank commanded as he pulled Willie up and forced the boy onto his knees.

 

Crank stood before the boy with his sturdy legs spread and his wide hips thrust forward. With one hand Crank unzipped his grease-stained jeans and pulled out his short, fat prick from his open fly. His other hand he placed behind Willie's head.

 

"Open up, cocksucker," Crank said as his pulled his dick and pointed it at Willie's trembling lips, "wrap your lips around this and get it hard."

 

Willie's eyes grew wide, and his face screwed up in disgust. He had never been so close to another man's dick. With quick, furtive glances, he had surveyed from a distance the other boys in his gym class showering which was just to check their size against his own. He had never been so close that he could see the veins and blemishes on the dick shaft, smell the stench of an unwashed crotch, or feel the heat rolling from an open fly. Willie licked his lips not in anticipation of the unsavory meal offered to him but in the hopes that he would stop himself from puking on the spot.

 

"I said to wrap your lips around my meat, cocksucker," Crank snarled as he shook Willie by the hair on his head. "Do it now!"

 

Willie through his tears could see that Tad was held helpless in his seat by the two burly bikers standing behind his chair. The big biker named Wolf who was sitting next to Tad was watching the scene with eager eyes. The rest of the gang was drifting toward him with their hands on their crotches and lust in their eyes. Willie could see no one to help him in the room as even Sam, the fat bartender, was stripping off his apron as he joined the crowd.

 

Willie with a strangled sob opened his lips and thrust out his tongue. He touched the tip of his tongue to the moist lips of Crank's proffered prick and instantly pulled his tongue away.

 

"Don't lick it, asshole, it ain't an ice cream cone. Suck it! Take it all into your mouth!" Crank demanded as he pulled Willie's head toward his evil-smelling crotch.

 

"No, I can't," Willie cried, "Please don't make me. I can't."

 

With his rough hand, Crank forced Willie's jaws open and slid his plump prick into the warm wet depths of boy's unwilling mouth.

 

With his mouth held wide open, Willie remained unmoving as Crank's unwashed penis lay on his tongue like a dead, brown slug.

 

"Wrap your fucking lips around my fucking dick and suck it, asshole" Crank demanded. "Hurry the fuck up, shit head, I ain't got all fucking night."

 

"Ya, get it on, fuck meat," one of the gang members hollered, "there are others waiting for their fucking turn."

 

Crank positioned his big dirty hands on either side of Willies head and gripped the boy's pink ears as if they were jug handles. Suddenly without warning, the fat biker pulled the reluctant teen's head into his crotch, while at the same time thrusting his own wide hips forward. Willie found his forehead pushed back by the biker's big belly while his face wash pulled into the biker's smelly crotch. The teenager's nose was pressed into Crank's open fly, and his mouth completely engulfed the biker's fat penis down to its hairy root. As the full, rich flavor of Crank's unwashed dick bloomed on the boy's tongue, Willie wretched and gagged and tried to pull away.

 

"What's the matter, cocksucker," Crank sneered as he ground his crotch over Willie's face, "don't you like the taste of prick meat?"

 

"He better fucking learn to fucking like it," a biker yelled, "he's got a whole fucking roomful to eat."

 

Willie held his mouth as wide open as he could and allowed Crank's penis to lay on his tongue undisturbed. He could see nothing but Crank's dirty crotch. He could smell nothing but Crank's dirty crotch. He could taste nothing but Crank's dirty crotch. He could hear nothing but the lusty laughter of the gang and the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears. Willie determined in his rabbit's heart to do whatever he must to survive.

 

"Close your mouth, cocksucker and suck my fucking dick," Crank commanded, and Willie reluctantly obeyed. "That's right, faggot, roll your fucking tongue around my meat. Watch your teeth, cocksucker, one fucking nip or scratch, and I'll kick them down your fucking throat."

 

Seven of the bikers along with the bartender were gathered round the mouth raping Crank and his teenage victim to watch the fun up close and lend a hand. Some of them took Willie's arms and twisted them behind his back, while others pumped his head up and down on Crank's meat. Tad had a clear view of all the dreadful action, as the bikers were careful not to obstruct Wolf's line of sight.

 

Tad watched Willie's oral rape in disgust and felt ashamed of his timid friend for inviting the biker's lewd attack. He knew that Willie by being such a frightened rabbit had made himself a victim of the biker's unnatural lust. Tad felt that if his friend had more guts and put up a fight that the bikers would leave him alone. He knew that any real man would rather die than suck cock. He would certainly fight any man that tried to make him do such a filthy thing. Tad felt that there must be something wrong with Willie that he would suck cock without a fight. Tad remembered catching Willie looking the other boys in the gym class showers. He even remembered no how Willie had looked at him. Perhaps, Tad thought, Willie secretly wanted to do it and had been asking for it.

 

Tad's lip curled up in a look of loathing and disgust.

 

"Look good? Want to try it?" Wolf asked as he slipped his hand from the table and dropped it to Tad's thigh.

 

"Get your hands off me," Tad snapped as he clamped his legs together to throw off Wolf's dirty paw from his thigh.

 

"That ain't polite, pretty boy," Wolf leered at Tad as with brute force he pushed his hand between Tad's thighs and cupped the teenager's crotch.

 

"Leave me alone, I not a homo," Tad cried as Wolf groped between his legs.

 

Tad started resolutely to struggle using every muscle of his athletically trained body to resist Wolf's lewd assault, but his efforts were futile as the two bikers holding his arms were bigger and stronger than him. They held him down in his seat with his arms twisted behind him, as Wolf touched him in places that no man had ever touched before.

 

"Settle down or I'll really fucking hurt you," Wolf snarled as he pulled his hand from between the teenager's legs and then closed his fingers into a fist.

 

"Let me go!" Tad shouted in impotent fury, "Get your faggot hands off me! I'm not a queer like Willie! Let me go!"

 

"You fucking asked for it, baby, now you’re going to fucking get it," Wolf snapped as he drove his fist with full force into Tad's balls.

 

An A-bomb of agony exploded between Tad's thighs that sent a shockwave of pain through his loins. As the pain gripped like a fiery hand of steel, Tad's teenage body went rigid as his eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped open in a silent scream. He made several little-strangled gasps of pain as brightly colored starbursts of agony exploded before his eyes. He slowly leaned forward until his head rested on the table as he grunted his pain through his nose.

 

"That's just a fucking taste of what I'll give you if you don't fucking learn to do what you're fucking told," Wolf angrily admonished the suffering boy. "The next time I'll pound your fucking balls to jelly and make you eat them with a fucking spoon. Now watch your fucking boyfriend chow down on Crank's cock. You can pick up some pointers for your turn."

 

Tad saw nothing but flashing lights which, with each new wave of pain, exploded into stars before his eyes.

 

Willie slurped and sucked and slid his tongue over, under and around Crank's fat prick and was rewarded with an ever larger prick to suck. Willie gulped his own saliva which was made foul by the juices oozing from the biker's throbbing erection and closed his eyes as he snuffled.

 

The other bikers around Willie were not idle as they were busy exploring every part of his hard young body manually. Rough hands stroked his bare chest and pinched his nipples while others groped between his legs, and felt his firm round buttocks. Calloused fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his gray, flannel trousers to probe his anus or tease his testicles, but the worst were the gentle fingers that fondled his teenage prick and tickled and teased it and brought it to life.

 

"The cocksucker's starting to enjoy the party," the gentle biker commented when Willie's prick began to engorge in response to the biker's gentle caress. "The cocksucker is throwing a fucking boner. He must be really into dick meat, or maybe he's just fucking turned on by guys."

 

"Getting hot, fuckmeat? Sucking cock turn you on?" Crank taunted Willie as he drove his now fully erect dick to the back of Willie's throat.

 

Willie coughed, spluttered and tried to pull his head back, but Crank's grip on his ears prevented that. Willie had no choice but to swallow as Crank pressed more of his hard dick into the boy's mouth. The teenager felt his stomach heave as the biker's slab of meat pushed into his gullet and slid down his throat.

 

Willie found he couldn't breathe with his throat plugged by the biker's hard cock and he grew fearful that he would choke. He grunted and groaned and struggled desperately trying to communicate he was suffocating. The only result was that his throat contracted around Crank's mouth raping prick and massaged it until the fat biker groaned with ecstasy. Just as Willie thought he would choke or die of suffocation the panting brute above him pulled his swollen penis from Willie's throat.

 

"You're a natural cocksucker," Crank complimented the gasping boy as he wiped his drooling dick across the boy's bruised lips, "but I ain't wasting my fucking cum in your cocksucking mouth when you've got that sweet ass just begging to be plowed."

 

Willie held his empty mouth wide open and let the saliva drip from his lips as his stomach heaved in the grip of nausea.

 

"Get him up on a table and get his pants off," Crank ordered, "I got a fucking hard-on that won't quit."

 

The gang cheered and hooted as they dragged Willie to his feet and threw him face up on the dirty table behind him. Many hands make light work, and the gang quickly stripped the gray, flannel slacks and clean, white jockey shorts from Willie's slender hips before pulling them down his leanly muscled legs. An amused titter went through the crowd of bikers when Willie's clean-shaven, completely hairless crotch was revealed.

 

"He ain't got no fucking hair down there!" one biker exclaimed with a hoot.

 

"He's smooth as a fucking baby and just about the same fucking size," another said, and they all laughed at Willie's cock and balls and ridiculed his small size.

 

Willie blushed with humiliation and went red from head to feet. As rough hands touched Willie's cock and balls to stroke his long, limp prick and lift his ball sack to heft his nuts, Willie's degradation was made complete. Willie was not hung like a bull or even a bulldog. He was an average, ordinary, sixteen-year-old boy with average ordinary-sized cock and balls. When erect, his dick was slender but long, and when his testicles were engorged, they made a good display. But his penis when flaccid looked very small as did his shriveled testicles. With his groin shaven and his genitals shrunken by the icy blast of fear, he looked no bigger or better developed than a ten-year-old child did.

 

The gang rolled Willie onto his stomach and pulled his buttocks apart to expose his puckered brown asshole to view. Crank stepped between the boy's legs and put a blunt fingertip to the tiny, wrinkled opening. Crank pressed his finger into the opening and twisted back and forth. Willie screamed as he felt his ass lips forced open and Crank's finger wormed its way into him.

 

"He's a fucking virgin," Crank crowed." His ass is tighter than the pussy of a little girl."

 

"Better get some grease, Sam," Wolf called from the table, "we wouldn't want Crank to scrape his cock raw."

 

The sound of Wolf's gruff voice made Tad stir. No matter how much the teenager hurt, he had to make an effort to save himself and Willie.

 

"Please, Wolf," Tad begged weakly as he lifted his head from the table and felt even that small movement send a shockwave of pain through his loins. "Don’t hurt us anymore. Let us go. We'll keep quiet. We won’t make trouble. Just let us go, and we'll forget all about this."

 

"Don't bother begging, cocksucker, we ain't stopping," Wolf said as he laid his hand on Tad's thigh just to see him jump. "It's too much fucking fun. When we're finished with your faggot friend, then it’s your turn to pull the fucking train."

 

Tad quailed at Wolf's cruel words as he felt his courage fade. His situation was hopeless. He was surrounded by brawny thugs thirsting for rape. The rapist bikers outnumbered him by ten to one and were grown men who were bigger, stronger and more skilled in violence than he was. Tad couldn't run because he was held in his seat by two burly thugs. He couldn't fight because his arms were twisted behind him. He couldn't struggle because Wolf's single testicle smashing blow hurt so much that every movement was agony. His only safety lay in co-operation, in allowing himself to be used by the gang to satisfy their unnatural sexual needs. He had never imagined that such a thing could happen to him. He wasn't a timid rabbit like Willie. He hadn't asked for it. He was a man but not enough of a man to die rather than suck cock. He would do what he had to do to save himself. He wouldn't be a man anymore. He would be a sex toy for queers. Tad lowered his head back to the table and moaned. The state to which he had brought himself and Willie in his heedless action in entering the bar was too much for him to bear. Tad let his tears drop on the table and without shame he cried.

 

The whole gang laughed but not at Tad because they were paying no attention to him. They were laughing as Willie flopped about on his stomach while Crank forced a second fat finger into his aching asshole. Crank laid one thick finger atop the other and turned them like a corkscrew into Willie's tight canal.

 

"Where's the fucking grease, Sam," Crank complained loudly as his fingers refused to be pushed further than the second knuckle into the groaning teenager's dry ass hole.

 

Sam scurried off to the kitchen to fetch a can of shortening with a backward glance at the suffering boy. By the time he returned with a can of commercial shortening, Willie had been rolled on his back by the bikers and his wrists tied to his ankles and his elbows to his knees. By this method, his legs were forced to bend at the knees and spread wide apart as they were drawn up towards his chest. As he lay on his back, his buttocks were lifted from the table, and the space between his legs was laid open and fully exposed. The bikers left him on his back with his buttocks hanging over one side of the table and his head hanging over the other side.

 

Some helpful gang member lifted Willie's head so that he could watch Crank grease his big dick. Willie watched with his mouth open and panting in fearful anticipation as Crank scooped a glob of shortening from the can that Sam was holding in his shaking hands. Crank smeared his hard cock from its root to its tip with the thick white goo. He took a second gob on the two fingers he had been using to assault the boy's ass and shoved it into Willie's puckered asshole with a single stroke. Willie screamed and bucked at the double-digit invasion of his virgin ass and screamed again as Crank screwed his fingers in and out to smear the grease about inside Willie's newly opened shit chute.

 

Tears clouded Willie's vision, as in a blur Crank take his place between Willie's thighs. As Willie felt the blunt tip of Crank's dick kiss his greased asshole, the boy whimpered in anticipation of the raping thrust.

 

"Take a deep breath, fuck meat," Crank cheerily advised him, "and kiss your fucking cherry ass goodbye."

 

Crank lunged forward and with a single brutal thrust buried the entire length of his dick in Willie's gut. Willie screamed, and the gang cheered as Crank began humping his greasy prick into the boy. Tad did not raise his head to look but screwed his eyes closed as if that would block out Willie's screams.

 

"Shut him up," Crank huffed as he put a hand behind each of Willie's knees to brace himself while he humped.

 

The helpful biker dropped Willie's head and being helpful still stopped the boy's screaming by thrusting his cock into the teenager's gaping mouth. As Crank pounded his prick into Willie's overstretched asshole, the helpful biker at the boy's head engaged in oral rape. The two brutes quickly found their rhythm and double humped the boy like two rutting beasts. After a few minutes, which to Willie seemed like hours, Crank grunted and drove his prick all the way into the boy. The biker's massive body froze for an instant in a sexual paroxysm, and then his loins contracted as he ejaculated his hot semen into Willie's gut.

 

Willie had no time to think about what had been done to him or that he now carried inside his body a part of his rapist, which he would absorb to make it forever a part of him. He could only feel relief as Crank's raping dick left his body and horror as another biker's raping dick took its place. Willie tried to scream as the new penetration renewed his agony, but his scream was muffled to extinction by the prick filling his mouth.

 

"Deep throat me, cocksucker," the helpful mouth raping biker husked as forced his bloated cock past Willie's virgin glottis and down into the boy's throat.

 

Willie gagged and wretched as his body tried to expel the hot mass plugging his throat. The boy couldn't breathe as his throat was completely stopped by hot, hard man meat. The helpful biker looked down and smiled as Willie twisted and writhed in a desperate and futile fight for breath. Willie's frightened face turned red and then blue before the helpful biker withdrew enough prick meat to allow Willie a few gulps of air. Willie was still gasping desperately when the helpful biker slid his prick back down the teenager's ravaged throat.

 

The helpful biker's oral rape had a rhythm, which Willie quickly learned. Three rapid throat-raping penetrations were followed by one deep throat which the biker held until Willie thought he would pass out. Willie learned to fill his lungs between the three short strokes so that he would have enough breath to carry him through the deep throat ordeal. Willie did not know that it was his struggle for air and the working of his throat that turned the helpful biker on and kept him going strong.

 

The biker between Willie's legs picked up the helpful biker's rhythm and started fucking in three short thrusts which were followed by a deep penetration during which he ground his coarse pubic hair into Willie's upturned buttocks. The two men worked together as they grunted and sweated to torture the teenager by making him feel every moment of his double rape. They thrust their hips until their heavy, hairy balls slapped against his forehead and his backside. They ground their filthy pubic hair against his tender skin. They corkscrewed, pounded, plowed and pried their pricks into his body and not satisfied with his suffering from these assaults, they tormented him further by using his body as a sexual toy. In a concerted effort to torture the abused prep-school junior by sexually arousing him during his rape, the helpful biker tweaked the boy's pink nipples and caressed his heaving chest while the other rapist stroked the boy's pink prick and tickled his clean-shaven scrotum with touches lighter than a feather.

 

Willie to his shame started feeling aroused by the things his rapists were doing to him. As the rapist between his legs pounded his prick inside Willie, he hit a place that made the boy moan and curl his toes in a spasm so intense that the battered teenager longed to feel it again. To this pleasure was added an arousal caused by suffocation which made Willie long to hold his mouth rapist dick in his throat until he passed out. His torment was completed by their tender caresses to his nipples and his cock and balls. The abused teenager could not fight the stimulation coming from all directions at once. His mind was overwhelmed by sexual arousal, and his body betrayed him as his prick became fully erect, and he started pushing his face into the helpful biker's crotch while humping his hips for the man between his legs.

 

The helpful biker covered Willie's head with his hunching body as he squeezed Willie's tender nipples and pulled them away from his chest.

 

"Take my fuck," He gasped as he drove his prick down Willie's throat. "I'm cumming, cocksucker. Eat my fucking scum."

 

Willie gagged, gulped, and gagged as the helpful biker filled his throat with bolt after bolt of scalding fuck juice. Halfway through his ejaculation, the brute pulled his pulsing prick from Willie's throat and mouth to shoot the last of his cum across the boy's sweaty face. The helpful biker released Willie's nipples and uncurled himself from the boy's head, and then he stepped out of the way for the next biker to have his turn at Willie's gaping mouth.

 

Willie was disappointed; he had been so close to cumming when the helpful biker had pulled his prick from Willie's aching throat. Willie was ashamed of his desire, but he needed another prick lodged in his throat. He opened his mouth eagerly and accepted the next biker's drooling dick into his mouth. Willie wanted to cum, to feel his balls boiling over and pumping hot nut oil out his dick so that he would have to feel nothing else.

 

The biker between Willie's legs changed his rhythm to match the new mouth rapist's pace. He teased Willie's hard cock and jerked the boy against his will. Willie was being driven to sexual madness by the unending double penetration and the unwanted manipulation of his nipples and his cock. He knew that he shouldn't, but he wanted his rape to continue so that he could feel the constant sexual stimulation, that tickling pleasure that drew him ever closer to climax and blocked out all the horror and humiliation of his rape. He grunted with each penetration and thrust back to force the rapist deeper into his gut. His nipples turned to hard peaks of sexual stimulation as his testicles congested with lusty blood and his achingly hard cock leaked pre-cum in a steady stream.

 

The biker between Willie's legs abandoned his steady rhythm and started copulating like a rutting dog upon a bitch. As he drove his prick into Willie in a blur of short, sharp strokes while he jerked the boy's hard cock at lightning speed. The biker reached his climax with a shout and humped the boy throughout his orgasm while he twisted Willie's prick as if he would tear it out by the root. With a strangled cry, Willie came in a fountain of hot cum which struck the biker in the chest and dropped back in fat white gobs onto Willie's heaving belly.

 

Tad watched in horror as Willie pulled the biker's train of chain rape. One man after another took his place at the boy's mouth or between his legs as they chose. As they waited for their turns at Willie's unwilling body, many of the bikers stripped off their shirts and pants and wore only their boots, vests, or motorcycle caps. Some wore harnesses which crisscrossed their massive hairy chests with leather straps or metal chains. Some wore cock rings or ball harnesses or both. Some had pierced nipples, pricks, or both. Each man was different in his way, but all were alike in that their bodies were unwashed and their pricks were primed and ready for rape.

 

Tad barely felt the roaming hands of Wolf and his two companions as they groped his body unmercifully. The only time he groaned was when they touched his groin, and he wished that they would just leave him alone. But they had not gone to join the fun with Willie but remained at Tad's table to torment him with what was to come. As they touched his crotch, they asked him how he liked it and if what was happening to Willie looked good. They whispered in his ears that his time was coming soon and that they were going to fuck him really good.

 

As the fourth or fifth man took his place between Willie's legs and yet another biker came in his mouth, there came a loud thumping on the tavern door. For a moment every man in the room froze, even the two raping Willie, as the one thought "POLICE" flashed through their minds.

 

"Open up! It's Piston and Reb," a gruff voice came through the door, and every man let out his breath and relaxed.

 

As Crank opened the door, the rapists went back to their fucking business, and the lines started forming as before. Piston and Red stepped into the tavern and looked at the gang rape with disgust.

 

"You mother fuckers started without us," the dirty blond, Piston, complained.

 

"Quit your fucking bellyaching, he ain't pulled the first train yet," Crank replied. "The fucker's just starting to warm up."

 

Reb wasted no time shedding most of his clothes before getting in line to rape Willie's mouth. As he waited, he rubbed one hand over his small, hairy chest, while with the other he stroked his puny prick to get himself primed and ready for his turn.

 

"Come on, Piston," he called cheerily to his boyfriend, "you don't want to miss the fun."

 

"Got fucking business," Piston replied sulkily as he ambled over to Wolf's table to report to the gang leader on his mission with the car.

 

"What did you do with it, Piston," Wolf asked the big blond biker as he approached the table.

 

"Took it to the junkyard, Wolf," he replied in a respectfully disgruntled tone, "it will be on its way to three fucking states by tomorrow. The fucking cops will never find it no matter how hard they look."

 

"A-fucking-one!" Wolf congratulated him, and Piston's chest swelled just a little with pride.

 

"Thanks, Wolf," Piston's tone was slightly mollified, "guess I'll go get in line for some fucking ass. The shit's going to be fucking sloppy by the time I get to him."

 

"That fucking train has left the station, Piston," Wolf laughed, "you don't want sloppy seconds when you can be first on board. Join me. You can be the first man on the train when this fucking engine leaves the station."

 

Piston was all smiles as he nodded his thanks and took the seat on the other side of Tad. The blond biker looked at Tad as he lay with his cheek pressed against the table and his eyes screwed tightly closed.

 

"What's the fucking matter with him," Piston asked as Tad groaned when the biker but his hand on the teenager's thigh, "he looks like he's been used hard?"

 

"I had to bust his fucking balls, just to get his attention," Wolf put his hand on Tad's other thigh, and the boy groaned again. "I think he's learned his fucking lesson and will do what he's fucking told."

 

"Mind if I try him out, Wolf," Piston asked with a voice edged with excitement.

 

"Go ahead, just keep your prick in your fucking pants," Wolf conditionally replied, "he ain't ready to leave the station yet."

 

"Sit up," Piston commanded Tad, "let's see if you've learned your fucking lesson."

 

Tad unscrewed his eyes and looked at Piston in bewilderment. The pain befuddled teenager seemed to recognize the dirty blond giant from somewhere though he could not remember exactly where that was. He did distinctly remember Wolf's crippling punch between his legs as his balls still ached from that awful blow. He tried to raise his head from the table and felt a sharp piercing pain stab from his nuts through his loins to his back. He put both his palms flat on the table and pushed himself up by his arms as he bit his lip to keep from screaming with the pain.

 

"Good boy," Piston praised Tad as if he were a puppy sitting up for a doggie treat, "what's your name?"

 

"Tad...Sir," The teenager gasped between waves of nausea.

 

"Good, Tad," Piston praised the teenager again and the boy half expected to be given a treat. "Now, Tad put your hands behind your back and let the boys hold your arms, then spread your legs real wide so Wolf and I can feel you up."

 

Tad with a sinking heart knew that he must obey. To beg for mercy would be a waste of time and would probably only anger his tormentors. Neither Wolf nor Piston nor the two brawny bikers standing behind his chair knew anything about mercy. They were interested in only two things, pleasing themselves and torturing him. To fight was to invite another bruising of his testicles. He could not win and would only suffer more. To comply was the only road to follow and that road did not lead to safety but to rape.

 

Tad put his arms behind him, and the two brawny bikers each put a hand to one of his wrists. Tad slowly spread his knees apart and held his breath in anticipation of the first caress of his tormentors.

 

Piston with a wicked grin slid his hand from the top of Tad's thigh to the inside of his leg. He felt the boy's muscles tremble beneath his fingers and watched with excitement the look of anguish on the teenager's handsome face. Piston's cruel mouth opened slightly, and his thick tongue slid out and curled up over his top lip as he slid his hand from Tad's inner thigh and cupped the boy's crotch.

 

Tad flinched, his legs jerked and he drew back from Piston's cruel touch.

 

"What's the matter, fuck meat," Wolf snarled as he saw Tad recoil. "Ain't Piston your type? Don't you like big, blond, fucking bikers or are you too fucking good for shit like us?"

 

"No, please," Tad protested as he twisted around to look at Wolf and felt a stabbing pain in his nuts, "I couldn't help it. I'm just so sore."

 

"Then tell Piston your sorry," Wolf's command carried and unspoken threat, "and ask him really nice to grope you."

 

"Please, sir," Tad almost wept with humiliation as he spoke to the leering blond biker, "I'm sorry. Please grope me. Please, sir, touch me down there."

 

Piston ran the tip of his tongue across his upper lip and leered at Tad through half-closed eyes.

 

"Show Piston that you like him," Wolf suggested forcefully, "Kiss him and give him a lot of fucking tongue."

 

As Piston opened his mouth and leaned in closer to Tad, he squeezed the tender bulge in the crotch of the teenager's gray, flannel slacks. Tad opened his mouth to scream as the biker mauled his tender crotch and Piston clamped his mouth over Tad's lips. Tad tried to pull away, but the two bikers behind him held his neck and head and forced him into Piston's lewd embrace. Tad had no choice but to accept the bikers hard, hot tongue into his unwilling mouth. As Piston's warm hard muscle invaded the teenager's mouth, he tasted beer, cigarettes and decaying teeth. Tad tried hard not to swallow the hot saliva that poured from the biker’s mouth into his or to move his tongue in response to the biker's probing muscle.

 

"Give him tongue, asshole," Wolf ordered Tad when he saw the boy was not responding to Piston's sloppy kiss.

 

Tad whimpered and swallowed the foul juices the blond biker had deposited in his mouth and tentatively moved his tongue. Piston responded by pressing his mouth into Tad's with such force that his teeth slid between the boy's and forced the teenager to take even more of his foul tongue. The blond biker held the struggling teenager for several minutes in a fierce embrace while using his tongue as a weapon to rape Tad's mouth and throat. When at last Piston broke his violent kiss, they were both gasping for air and sweating like pigs.

 

"Hog and Bull," Wolf addressed the two bikers standing behind Tad's chair, "I ain't waiting any longer. It's time for this little fucking engine to pull the fucking train."

 

Hog grunted, and Bull snorted their eager assent.

 

"Hog and Bull, you boys get him up and strip him," Wolf gave his orders as he rose from the table to start pulling off his clothes, "Piston, you bust his fucking cherry and make sure that it fucking hurts."

 

"No! Please," Tad protested as Hog and Bull dragged him to his feet.

 

"Shut up!" Piston snapped as he rose from his seat to backhand Tad across the face.

 

The blow stunned the teenager who fell back into the arms of Hog and Bull. The two bikers caught him and started tearing at his clothes. The two bullies quickly tore the teenager's button-down shirt to shreds while Piston tore at his belt and the button on his pants. Hog ripped the white tee shirt from Tad's chest and back as Bull and Piston stripped the boy's gray, flannel trousers from his legs. Tad tried to struggle but did not have a chance. Bull pulled the shoes from his feet, while Piston tore off his underpants. In less than two minutes Tad was naked and trapped inside a circle of four horny, brawny men.

 

Wolf had stripped himself down to his boots and cock and ball harness before donning his leather vest and chains. He stood behind Tad with one hand on the boy's shoulder and with the other holding a cock which was out of all human proportion with the man. He spun Tad around and forced the boy to look down at what he held in his calloused hand.

 

"Horse!" Tad involuntarily exclaimed in amazement as he saw the monstrous rod of erect flesh in Wolf's hand.

 

"Like it?" Wolf laughed, "It's fucking big, and you're going to take every fucking inch of it."

 

"No, you'll kill me," Tad pleaded as he backed into Piston, Hog, and Bull.

 

"You can take it, little engine, you've got a good body. A muscle hunk like you can take this and pull the fucking train too. It'll be a fucking pleasure to put this into you."

 

Tad was a muscle hunk as he worked out with weights and kept himself lean for his place on his prep-school football team. He was tall and well-proportioned and had thought himself well hung until he had seen what Wolf had between his legs. He did not believe that any man could be that big or that any man or women could survive penetration by such a thing. Tad felt sick inside as he realized that soon he would know if he could survive penetration by Wolf's superhuman dick, but first, he had to survive Piston, Hog, and Bull.

 

The three lost no time forcing Tad onto all fours on the floor at their feet. Piston stripped off his clothes before kneeling at Tad's head, where he offered his nine-inch prick to the boy. The biker forced his drooling slab of meat into Tad's mouth and without pause down the boy's virgin throat. Tad choked and gagged as Piston started rapidly pumping his rigid prick in and out of the teenager's no longer virgin throat. Tad fought not to choke or puke and tried desperately to breathe between each vicious penetration as his throat was raped again and again. Within minutes his mouth and throat were sore, there was a terrible ache in his jaws, and his lips were scraped raw by the biker's coarse pubic hair.

 

"Suck it harder, asshole!" Piston ordered, "Milk that fucker with your throat!"

 

Tad did his best to obey by swallowing over and over while Piston's penis plugged his throat. Soon the boy felt a thick slime starting to coat his tongue and the inside of his mouth. Piston started to grunt as he pulled his prick from Tad's throat and filled the boy's mouth with a flood of his hot biker cum. Tad gulped as fast as he could, but his mouth filled to overflowing and the thick white goo ran down his chin. Piston pulled his spent prick from Tad's lips and to the boy's horror it had not softened but was still erect.

 

"One cum doesn't make me go soft," Piston said as he laughed at Tad's expression, "it just takes the edge off so I can fuck ass twice as long."

 

Piston gathered up the gobs of his semen hanging from Tad's chin and wiped them on the head of his prick.

 

"That's all the lube you'll get," Piston said as he went around to Tad's hindquarters and knelt between the teenager's legs.

 

 "Better plug his mouth, Hog," Wolf suggested, "he's really going to feel that fucker going in."

 

Hog, whose sobriquet was related to his fat body and fatter prick, knelt before the boy wearing only his nipple rings. Tad groaned as he saw beneath the biker's fat belly an erect dick longer and thicker than Piston's nine-inch meat. Tad had to open his jaws wide just to take the head in, and the fat glans filled his entire mouth. Hog did not wait for Tad to accommodate himself to the size of the prick or prepare for the monster's penetration of his throat. With a grunt of pleasure, he force-fed Tad his pork meat and pushed the fat head to the opening of Tad's throat.

 

Piston, seeing that the teenager was gagged by Hog's thick meat, shoved his prick into the boy's gut. Not even Hog's throat stopping slab could completely muffle Tad's scream as every fiber of his ravaged ass burned with pain. The boy felt as if he had been penetrated by a red-hot baseball bat.

 

Before Tad could catch his breath, Hog drove into his throat, and the teenager was treated to a duet of agony. His ass was forced open and his gut overfilled by Piston's sawing prick tearing in and out of his ass, while his jaws were overstretched and his throat filled to bursting by Hog's chugging thrusts. The minutes passed like hours as every thrust brought new pain which did not diminish as the rape progressed. Hog and Piston were too big, his body could not adjust to them, so he felt no diminishment of pain or rising of pleasure. It was complete agony from the first penetration to the last withdrawal of the horrible weapon Piston had between his legs.

 

Piston came and went and was replaced by Hog, and the whole rape was repeated again. Bull, who got his name because he had the muscles, brains, and cock of an ox, knelt before Tad completely naked with his cock in both hands. The boy saw with horror that he was much bigger than Hog and he groaned as he realized Wolf's evil plan. Tad was to be raped by ever larger pricks so that each penetration would be worse than the one before. The agony of losing his cherries was to be repeated four times over as each man would stretch Tad's throat and ass more than the man before. Tad would be taken from Piston's extra-large to Hog's giant to Bull's king size and last to Wolf's bulk packed giant family size dick of destruction.

 

Tad endured the torture as Bull took his throat and Hog took his backside. He screamed, wept, and struggled to accept their terrible weapons into his body without doing himself a permanent injury. He knew throughout the rape that no matter how bad it got that there was worse to come. After Hog there was Bull, after Bull there was Wolf and then nine other bikers and one fat bartender to come.

 

Hog squealed as he ejaculated into Tad's gut and pulled out before he finished unloading across the boy's back. Bull quickly took Hog's place at Tad's backside and drove his bull dick home before Wolf was on his knees. Tad had no idea how bad his rape would be until he had to unhinge his jaw to take Wolf's big prick into his mouth. He could not suck Wolf's fleshy log there was no room in his mouth to move his tongue, and he could not close his jaws even a fraction of an inch. Bull was fucking faster than when one young bull mounts another, and he ejaculated before Wolf had entered Tad's throat.

 

Tad thought it would be a relief not to have the awful anal agony of Bull's raping dick tearing through his guts, but he found that without that distraction, his full attention was focused on the destruction of his throat. Wolf slowly pushed forward driving inch after inch into Tad's gaping mouth and down his throat. Tad couldn't breathe at all and tried to pull himself back, but Hog and Bull held him firmly in place. The awful invasion of Tad's throat continued until Wolf was pressing the boy's nose into his coarse pubic hair. Tad's face turned red and then blue as Wolf slowly withdrew until Tad could draw air in through his nose. He was allowed to breathe for a few minutes before Wolf slid his giant monster back into its esophageal abode. Two deep throat rapes were all Wolf tried, and when he withdrew after the second thrust, his penis was streaked with blood. Tad felt the warmth of his own blood well up in his throat and fill his mouth with salty warmth. He dropped his head and opened his mouth, and fat red drops fell from his lips onto the floor.

 

"Don't worry, cocksucker," Wolf laughed his reassurance, "you aren't going to die. A fucker big as mine always makes a faggot bleed some the first time whether I fuck down his throat or up his ass."

 

Now, Tad braced himself for the worst as Wolf moved behind him and took his position between Tad's legs. Piston, Hog, and Bull had managed to stretch Tad's puckered anus into an open hole into which the blunt tip of Wolf's fist sized cock head fit comfortably. Using the cum and detritus oozing from Tad's abused ass hole as his only lubrication, Wolf mounted the teenager in a single man killing thrust.

 

Tad screamed and fell forward on his arms with his head to the floor and screamed until there was no air in his lungs. With no prick raping his throat to distract him, Tad's full attention was focused on the agony in his guts. If Piston was a red-hot baseball bat, then Wolf was a volcanic telephone pole. Tad's puckered asshole stretched to a taut, smooth ring, while his aching rectum tore as Wolf's monster filled the ravaged tunnel beyond capacity. Wolf withdrew his monster until only its head was inside Tad's back door and laughed when he saw that the shaft was streaked with fresh blood.

 

"Told you I'd make you fucking bleed," he gloated as he slapped Tad on his firm round buttocks.

 

Wolf plowed Tad's buttocks with slow, deliberate strokes, while the tortured teenager screamed and beat the floor with his fists. Wolf had to do nothing special to cause Tad agony. The mere size of his prick was enough to make Tad scream.

 

Wolf did not grunt, pant, or moan but did his damage to Tad's gut in a competent manner with only a quiet snarl curling his lips. When at last he reached orgasm there was no scream or howl, Wolf just held himself perfectly still while his balls pumped his cum into the boy's bleeding guts. His cum seemed to last for several minutes before his large testicles were drained. After his last ejaculation, he gave Tad three of for more thrusts with his softening penis before withdrawing from the boy.

 

"That's a fuck you won't forget," Wolf laughed as he slapped Tad on the buttocks and walked away.

 

Tad with a groan collapsed and lay on his stomach on the floor. He was too overwhelmed by pain and exhaustion to notice the half dozen bikers drifting over from Willie's table to have their turn with him. They rolled him onto his back, and one dropped to his knees and straddled Tad's chest while the other knelt between the semi-conscious teenager's legs. The first biker fell forward on his hands and fed Tad his hot dick while the other lifted the teenager's legs to his broad shoulders and shoved his meat into the boy's upturned ass. Tad did not grunt, groan, or whimper as he barely felt their pricks penetrate his throat and rectum. After suffering through Wolf's colossal penetrations, the rutting thrusts of mere ordinary men were easy for him to bear.

 

At first, Tad thought his torture had ended, that he would endure his gang rape in a semi-conscious unfeeling daze, but then relieved of the overwhelming pain of repeated massive penetration, his body started to react to the more pleasurable thrusts of ordinary men. As each minute passed, he became more aware of what his rapists were doing to his body. He felt sensations in his guts that made him groan with desire. He felt the cold aching of his loins warm to sexual arousal. He felt his cock swell and grow to man size. He felt nothing but shame at his body's reaction, at the desires coursing through him. Tad's mind was racked with the pain of feeling pleasure from his rape, as his body had been racked by the pain of Wolf's abuse. Tad recoiled from the horror of being aroused by the unnatural touch of another man. But his body betrayed him, and as one biker replaced another, his cock grew to a full erection, and his loins begged for relief. By the time the first six bikers had each had a turn at his mouth and ass, Tad had reached orgasm twice and was aching to cum once again.

 

The first six bikers were replaced by six more and then Sam the bartender took a turn. On through the night, the gang rapists drifted back and forth between Tad and Willie and used each boy again and again. They untied Willie and bound Tad, and then they bound them both together. They raped them separately, they raped them as a pair, and they raped them continuously. To Tad and Willie, the bikers became a blur of anonymous male flesh with an erect prick to thrust into their mouths or between their legs. They were all alike in their rutting sexual desires, and one man was no different from the next, except for Wolf. Tad always knew by the agony he felt in his throat or ass when Wolf was at his door.

 

When Tad and Willie grew too tired to respond to the rapes, the bikers invented little games to get their attention. Willie was brought from his stupor by a fist to his testicles, and the treatment was repeated whenever his responses flagged. Tad had his nipples pinched and twisted until he wept and begged the biker's to tear them from his chest, but they laughed and twisted them some more.

 

The bikers raped the prep-school boys until they were unconscious, while they were unconscious and when they came to consciousness again. They raped the boys hour after hour in every position, and by every method, their perverted minds could bring into play. The bikers took sloppy seconds, thirds, fourths and fifths and when they could not use their own equipment, they used whatever came to hand. Bottles, glasses, salt shakers, toilet plungers, wooden spoons and from the kitchen vegetables of all kinds were thrust, twisted, and plunged into the teenagers' unresisting bodies until the bikers grew tired of their fun. Finally, at dawn, the bikers were seated and slunk off to clean themselves and rest like dogs after they have finished with their bitches.

 

Tad and Willie lay side by side on their backs upon the floor too exhausted by their gang rapes to move. Willie's eyes were closed, and his face was coated with patches of dried semen and flecks of blood from his many small facial wounds. The fair skin of his lean body was marred by bruises and scratches, welts and the cum of several dozen rapes. His prick was rubbed raw by hours of rough masturbation which left it as swollen as his bruised testicles. As he lay unmoving and barely breathing, he constantly moaned in a low drone of pain. Tad was not nearly in such bad condition as Wolf had protected him from the more vicious attacks perpetrated on Willie's teenage flesh. Tad's lips were swollen from sucking dozens of hard pricks, and his face was smeared with the cum they had produced, but he had few cuts and just a little bruising from the few slaps he had received to remind him of his place. His body too contained the traces of dozens of ejaculations, but he bore little evidence of physical abuse beyond his swollen nipples and the bruise on his balls from Wolf's cruel punch. Wolf had not allowed Tad to be masturbated, his balls to be beaten, or anything larger than his own prick to be shoved into Tad's ass. He had been treated kindly compared to battered Willie and he ought to be grateful for Wolf's kind attentions, but Tad was not grateful because he had a fear that Wolf was only saving him for something worse.

 

Tad's head was swimming from the pain in his body and his mind. He felt as if the table were turning slowly beneath him like a children's carousel. As he drifted from cruel consciousness to the kindness of sleep, he heard two distant voices which he recognized as if through a fog.

 

"What do we do with the fuckers now, Wolf, off em?" Piston's voice was a conspiratorial whisper.

 

"Naw, we'll take the cocksuckers to the dungeon where we can really have some fucking fun," Wolf's replied sotto voce.

 

"Fucking for fun and profit," Piston laughed softly.

 

"You bet! These shits will be fucking money makers," Wolf replied in a dark whisper.

 

Tad heard no more. He joined Willie in the kingdom of blissful oblivion. For a few hours, he would not have to worry about what Wolf's dark words meant.