The naked boy tied to the bed could not have been more than thirteen years old. His pale body was smooth and hairless. He was tied on his back with his legs raised, and his knees bent, opening up his crotch, so his teenage cock and balls and asshole were on display for the camera. If the boy had already reached puberty, it had been just as his dick was still fairly small, and his scrotum looked like a little pink velvet sack.
Pete Daniels could not even look at the kid. Instead, he studied the surroundings. Good FBI training. Look for a clue in everything: the bedspread, the headboard, the wall.
As the video continued, a man entered the picture, a huge naked black man, easily seven feet tall. The man had an erect penis that must have been thirteen inches. God knows where Mr. Black found this freak. The smiling man was laughing and talking to somebody off-camera in a foreign language.
The boy was just screaming because he had a ten-inch rubber cock up his tiny teenage asshole. His precious pink puckered virgin asshole had been violated on camera. The poor kid had been raped up the ass for the pleasure of the video audience. Now, the black man slid the blood and ass slime slick dildo out of the boy’s tortured ass. The hole was huge and kind of opened and closed like a mouth. The sobbing boy himself gasped for breath as he gurgled and groaned.
“Now the big black guy will fist fuck the kid. I know it’s hard to believe he can get one of those hands up that little teenage asshole, but he does. It appears to almost kill the kid, but the boy survives to eventually take two full hands up his hole at the same time.”
It was Pete’s superior who spoke, Robert Hagen. Pete turned away from the video screen.
“I can’t take any more. Jesus Christ, this is sick.”
“Watch the video, Pete. You have to prepare yourself. I know it’s impossibly perverse and disgusting, but it’s also real life. It is happening, and it’s our job to stop it.”
“Bob, why would anyone, even a pervert, want to see how large he can stretch a little boy’s asshole? I mean, what’s their motive? Where’s the pleasure in it?”
Robert Hagen poured a scotch for himself and one for Pete. They were not supposed to drink on the job, of course, but this could hardly be called an ordinary job.
“I have no idea, Pete. We will provide you with the best sex therapists and psychologists, and of course, you can ask them that question. For some reason, these underground porno films seem to dwell on taking innocent little boys and then stretching their assholes and mouths. Every conceivable kind of object is shoved up boy asses. They taunt the sobbing boys, saying things like, ‘Come on baby, you can take it. That’s it, almost there, just a little more of this baseball bat.’ And, of course, the unfortunate little victims have no choice. I can’t for the life of me understand it, but I do know it’s our first priority to stop Mr. Black and his sick network.”
Pete felt really sick to his stomach.
“And there are lots of guys who buy this shit? I mean, we are actually living in a world of sexual perverts who get off on this shit?”
Robert Hagen laughed, but it was not a cheerful laugh. It was one of those cynical, frustrated, bitter laughs like in a Sam Peckinpah film.
“We are talking billions of dollars. We are talking influential politicians, clergy, and celebrities whose perverse secret fantasies are fed by Mr. Black and his company. The videos are just one aspect and a pretty tame one I might add. Senators, mayors, police chiefs, visit Mr. Black’s underground clubs to fuck and abuse underage boys. And the system is international. Look...”
Robert Hagen nodded toward the screen where the hysterically screaming boy, sounding like a wounded puppy, was receiving a huge black man’s large hand up his stretched to the limit asshole. The boy’s red, raw ass lips gaped like a whore’s cunt.
“This boy is thirteen years old. He wasn’t kidnaped, believe it or not. He made this film while still attending school during the day. His parents had no idea of his secret life.”
“You mean he did this willingly?”
“Hardly. Mr. Black had a meeting with the boy, shot the boy’s dog, and threatened to kill his mother and father and baby sister if the kid did not work for him. Mr. Black loves humiliation and degradation. He loves psychological torture, so he threatens and terrorizes these kids. He’s got nine-year-old boys working as whores for him. And especially the clergy, it seems from our studies, prefers boys much younger than this one. Catholic priests love to molest preteen boys. But you are Catholic, so I hardly need to make you aware of that problem.”
Pete sat up more stiffly in his chair, his eyes now glued to the hand up to the wrist in the thirteen-year-old teen boy’s ass-cunt.
“Let’s not make sweeping generalities about the Catholic religion based upon a few troubled priests.”
“A few troubled priests? The entire religion is a corrupt swamp of hypocrisy. A few years ago, one of the leading bishops on the east coast passed away. This man was loved and revered. He had spent his life telling Catholic women and men when and when not to fuck, not to masturbate, not to divorce, not to practice safe sex...not, not, not....and when he died, it was discovered that he used to visit a famous brothel in Washington D.C. weekly to fuck and torture little boys. This is a fact, Pete! The Catholic Church is going broke, hushing up thousands of cases of priests molesting little boys. For some fucking strange reason, and I don’t know why it seems that an increasing number of healthy horny males love to stick their big dicks in little boy ass.”
“And you want me to stop Mr. Black?”
“We want you to infiltrate his organization, first as a customer, then as a partner. We have to make sure we really have enough proof to break him. The problem is, of course, that he has powerful and influential friends behind him. We don’t know how high the corruption goes. We can trust no one. Jesus Christ, will you look at that. That nigger is up to the elbow in that boy’s asshole. Eventually, you know, the boy’s asshole will look just like a cunt.”
Pete watched the screen nervously.
“Fuck it. Bob, why do you want me to take this case. I’m totally wrong for this kind of thing.”
“No, in fact, you are exactly right for it. The only man we have who is right for it. You are thirty-years-old, handsome, in shape. You see, in order to get in solid with Mr. Black, you will have to fuck and abuse some boys yourself.”
“Are you out of your mind? You’re asking me to commit a crime of perversion to catch a criminal. That would be illegal. Even if it weren’t, it’s the sickest fucking thing I have ever heard. I think I’m going to puke.”
“Use the wastebasket. This is a special case, Pete. If you have to hurt a few boys in order to save thousands, in order to catch this monster, well, that’s just the way it is. How will Mr. Black ever take you into the inner workings of his organization if you don’t prove yourself as sick a boy fucker as he is?” Robert Hagen leaned in closer to Pete. “Pete, this is the single most important case the FBI has worked on in years, maybe decades. Uncovering Mr. Black will no doubt uncover sexual perversion among senators, congressmen, city, and state officials. A lot of people are going to fall big time when this comes down. I know I am asking more of you than any human being has a right to ask, but you are more than a human being. You are an FBI agent.”
“Jesus Christ, Bob, why me? I lost my wife not a year ago. I have two sons of my own of eleven and twelve. How can I abuse a kid, when all I will see are my own boys in their eyes?”
“You’ll know you’re doing it to protect your boys. Besides, Pete, we know from your records that you had several homosexual encounters in high school and college.”
Pete Daniels blinked his big blue eyes. He brushed a hand through his short black hair and twisted his full handsome lips into a knot.
“You know this from my records? My high school sex life is in your records?”
“Of course, Pete, we pretty much know every guy you slept with and what you did with them. We have to check these things out. You know, like when you applied for White House clearance, and you were rejected. That was why. Your background may very well come in handy now. You see, we can’t just expect an ordinary straight agent to fuck boy ass convincingly, but you’ve at least had some experience. You have a chance of fooling Mr. Black and his men.”
“Bob, you’re nuts! Just because, as a kid, I experimented a bit, doesn’t mean that as an adult, I can commit a perversion. I was married to a wonderful woman for twelve years. I have two fine sons who are the light of my life. What makes you think I can screw some little kid convincingly?”
“Your duty to your country, combined with your past, makes you our prime...no, our only possible candidate. This isn’t easy for me either, Pete. I’ve asked agents to fuck for the FBI before, to uncover a prostitution ring involved with drugs or counterfeiting, to catch a serial killer, but I’ve never asked an agent to turn into a pervert and fuck boy ass.”
“Oh, Jesus H. Christ, Bob, I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Think of the boys just like your sons that you will be saving. Look, Pete, now they’re bringing in a Great Dane to fuck the boy. How can you look at this and not want to help? That could be your son on that bed. Your own eleven-year-old boy about to get dog dick up his tender young ass and shoved into his sweet little mouth. Think, Pete!”
Pete thought, long and hard.
Mr. Black was enjoying himself at a Waterpark in Las Vegas. He had his eye on a cute hunky young fifteen-year-old stud who was spending the day at the park with his little girlfriend. The boy was quite a sight. About five foot six inches tall, nice jock build with good pecs and tight tummy. Nice dime-sized nipples on the chest. Strong soccer player legs and cute ass encased in a large baggy boxer swimsuit. The swimsuit was a shame. Mr. Black wanted to see some dick lump, some ass crevice, and he would. He would. The boy had a darling, youthfully curved nose with some sun-kissed freckles. He had wide nostrils and full lips.
And he was hot to fuck his little twat friend. Mr. Black could tell from the way the boy could not keep his hands off the little fourteen-year-old slut. Mr. Black wondered if they fucked already. She deserved to be fucked, wearing that skimpy swimsuit. She deserved to be fucked by every guy in the whole fucking waterpark. Mr. Black studied the teenage boy’s big, sexy feet with lovely arches. He wondered if the boy had yet discovered the pleasure of shoving your foot up a teenage girl’s twat. Probably not.
Mr. Black himself was quite a sight at the park. Heads of both sexes turned with admiration and not a little lust. His tall tan smooth muscular body moved with a natural sexual stride. He wore a skimpy black speedo that could hardly contain his huge prick and nuts. He did not go for this modern baggy trunked craze. He was comfortable, more than comfortable with his body. More than comfortable with his big fucking cock. Let the little pussies drip as they stared at it. Let the boys adjust their sudden boners and turn away from their girl twats as they realized they were horny for a man. Mr. Black was so confident, so comfortable with himself, he went about without a bodyguard. Perhaps much of his inner strength came from his rigorous Hong Gar King Fu training and his Eastern meditation.
Mr. Black bided his time, patient as always watching the girls’ nipples through their suits and the boys’ dick lumps and asses. Once, he got behind a clean cut all American family out for a day of fun as they stood in a crowded line for a water slide ride. Mr. Black managed to wedge himself behind the ten-year-old son of the family and had some mild fun rubbing his big fucking dick up and down the boy’s naked back. He could tell from the shape of the little boy’s mouth that the kid would be an expert cocksucker down the road. The little boy bounced up and down excitedly as boys do, jumping on his naked feet impatient with the long congested line. Mr. Black could have stood there for hours. He lowered the front of his suit and pressed his bare-naked dick against the boy’s back. He was pressed so close to the kid that the people in line behind him saw nothing. It was dangerous and oh so much fun.
At last, the fifteen-year-old stud went to the bathroom, and it was Mr. Black’s chance to have some real fun. He followed the kid into the toilet, waited until another guy left, then locked the door. He turned to see the kid just shaking off his dick at the urinal. The cute little hunk had to lower his trunks to piss, so his beautiful full-cheeked ass was on display. It was a gorgeously smooth, unblemished, pale teenage boy ass. Two full round tight cheeks and a deep crack. Mr. Black did not go for flat-assed boys. He liked a nice deep crack. Slender waist, slim hips, bubble butt with a nice deep crack. He moved quickly behind the boy and slipped the small thin-bladed knife out of the hip sheath in his Speedos. The knife was only three inches long folded but opened to twice that size. He stepped up behind the kid, noticing that the little stud came only up to his tit. He slipped one strong forearm around the boy’s neck and brought the knife up under the boy’s full young scrotum.
“Do you wanna lose your balls, boy? Do you wanna have your nuts cut off? Think about it. You’ll never be able to fuck that fresh young cunt out there on the bench waiting for you with her pussy dripping. Answer me, fuck face, do you wanna lose your balls?”
The cute kid was so terrified he began to piss again. He had just finished, but more piss now shot out of his dick and over Mr. Black’s hand.
“No, sir! I don’t, sir...” the kid squeaked like a boy whose balls had not yet fallen.
“What’s your name, cunt?”
The kid’s fear gave him proper respect. That was good.
“How old are you, Alex?”
“Fifteen, sir. I was fifteen three weeks ago.”
“Do you fuck that twat out there in the park?”
Mr. Black rubbed his Speedo encased prick against the boy’s lower back.
“Um...ugh...no, sir...not yet I haven’t.”
The poor kid could hardly talk.
“How many twats have you fucked? And don’t lie to me, boy. I can tell.”
“None, sir...none yet, sir.”
Alex’s voice cracked delightfully. Big tears rolled down his smooth freckled cheeks.
“So your dick is pretty much useless, and I might as well cut the fucking thing off, right?”
“No, sir...please, sir…oh, god, don’t hurt me.”
“Jesus Christ, kid, I thought you were a tough little jock stud, but you’re pretty much a pussy, aren’t you, a scared little pussy. Tell me you’re a pussy, boy.”
“I’m a pussy, sir!”
“Good. And tell me, pussy, what do men do to pussies?”
The kid bucked for the first time, but Mr. Black held on.
“Oh, god…please no sir...don’t do that. Not that, sir.”
The boy was hysterical. Mr. Black thought it was charming. He pressed the blade up under the full, smooth young ball bag, feeling the soft teenage scrotum skin. One of the reasons he liked boys was because their ball bags were so damn soft.
“Answer me, cunt. What do men do to pussies?”
The teenager was up on his toes now, trying to relieve the pressure on his nuts. His swimsuit hung around his knees. His bare-naked ass rubbed back against his attacker, increasing Mr. Black’s already huge, terrifying hardon.
“They...they...oh, god,” the boy wailed…“they fuck them!”
“That’s right, you lucky cunt you, you win the prize. And the prize today is a nice big foot-long prick up your teenage boy ass.”
The kid must have blacked out for a second, for his legs gave way, and if Mr. Black had not been holding him around the neck, he would have crumpled to the cement toilet floor. Someone kept rattling the bathroom door.
“Use another toilet. We got a kid puking in here,” Mr. Black yelled.
“Sorry,” someone muttered, and the noise stopped.
Mr. Black took the knife tip and began to prick the kid’s nipples lightly. That brought the boy around.
“Come on, Alex, wake up. We want you nice and alert for the games we’re going to play.”
As hunky young Alex realized where he was and what was happening, a tide of fresh tears washed down his cute face.
“Big tough teenage boy crying like a little baby, I fucking love it. Hold your dick up for me.”
Alex did not move fast enough, so Mr. Black had to slap the little fuck right in the nuts.
“When I say do something, you do it. That’s the only way we are going to get along. Now hold up your useless dick for me.”
It was a very nice dick, indeed, for a fifteen-year-old boy. Six inches long flaccid, a bit less now because it had shrunk from fear.
“Hold it up so I can see the cockhead.”
The boy was shaking all over now as if about to go into shock.
“Please, sir...please…don’t hurt me.”
“Not if you’re a good cunt and do what I say. Now hold real still, and hold your cock real still.”
Mr. Black reached down and inserted the tip of the knife blade into the pisshole of the boy’s dick.
“Oh...oh, shit...oh, God...oh God...oh…”
The boy was out of his mind with fear. His eyes were wide as saucers with terror as snot ran from his cute nose and spit drooled from his lips.
“Hold real still, baby. Don’t move. Don’t faint on me now. One slip of the knife and your teenage prick is sliced in two. Now we’re going to slide a little more knife in your dick hole. Don’t move an inch. Hold that cock real still.”
The poor shaking kid was up on his tiptoes. Mr. Black could feel the young body heave and flutter like a dying bird in his arms.
“Take it out, please. Pleeease.....” the boy blubbered and wheezed, eyes rolling in his young head.
“Lean your head back on my shoulder. Now turn your face toward me. Come on. Now open your cute mouth. Now kiss me like you kiss your twat friend, a nice deep sloppy spitty tongue kiss. And it better be good.”
For the first time in his fifteen years, young Alex kissed a man. Mr. Black slopped spittle down the boy’s throat, and then he spit all over the boy’s face.
“Such a pretty little boy you are. I’d hate to carve up that pretty face. I’d hate even more to slice off your teen dick and nuts, but if I have to, I will. Now kick off your trunks. Good, now I’m going to remove the knife from your pisshole, but one wrong move, and I slice off your dickhead.
“Now, I want you to kneel down on this toilet floor. I want you to stick your hunky young jock ass up as high in the air as you can, I want you to shove your face down right into the bottom of the urinal, and I want you to start licking it clean. These urinals haven’t been cleaned in a long, long time, and lots of guys have pissed here already today. Come on, douchebag, get your face down there. If I have to put that knife to your dick again, it will come away with blood on it, I swear!”
Fifteen-year-old Alex, champion of his high school soccer team, knelt down on the cold piss-wet floor of the public washroom, sticking his hunky jock ass up in the air as high as he could, he buried his face in the piss wet mesh at the bottom of the piss trough and started to lick the puddles of pee and the yellow piss streaks.
“Very good, Alex, you see when you obey, you don’t get hurt. It’s really quite simple. You look perfect like that. Very hot. I’ve often thought that to teach humility and community service, high schools should assign the younger boys to lick out the urinals.
“Now reach back and spread your tight smooth teenage ass cheeks for me. And please, don’t disappoint me. Spread them really wide so I can see your asshole clearly.”
Mr. Black heard a whimper coming from the head in the urinal, but the hands came back, grabbed the hunky ass cheeks, and spread them wide. Tender white ass crack flesh gave way to a perfect puckered round pink asshole.
“I knew you’d have a perfect pussy, Alex baby, I just knew it. That is beautiful. You’ll have to give me your telephone number before I go. I’d like to date you again. That is if you can squeeze me in.”
Mr. Black laughed at his little joke, and the boy whimpered and whined.
“I don’t hear you licking, Alex. I wanna hear that boy tongue doing its work. Gotta keep these restrooms clean.”
Another rattle at the door handle.
“Use another toilet. My son’s in here with the runs.”
“No, I—” Alex yelled before Mr. Black’s foot slammed the boy’s face down into the bottom of the urinal.
“That was very stupid of you, Alex. You’ve made me very angry. I am going to punish you. Instead of a nice slow romantic fuck from my beautiful big dick, I’m going to go over and get that toilet plunger, and I’m going to shove it up your ass roughly. Because you were a bad boy Alex, you’re going to get fucked up the ass with a toilet plunger. You’re going to get fucked hard and deep, all because you were a bad boy. I hope this teaches you a lesson. I hope this toilet plunger handle shoved about fifteen inches into your fucking guts, impresses the lesson.
“Oh, sure, now you whimper. Now you sob. Now you promise to be a good little cunt. It’s too late, Alex. You need to be taught a lesson. Now, hold your fucking ass cheeks wide open. And if you struggle or resist, I swear, I swear, Alex, I will take my knife, and I will cut out your bowels, and I will leave you alive, so the rest of your life you have to shit out of a hole in your stomach into a plastic bag. Is that what you want, Alex?
“Now open that cunt and receive your first boyfriend, a stiff wooden toilet plunger. And then, after I’ve reamed out your hole with this wooden handle, maybe later, you will be a good boy and ask me politely to please fuck your pussy with my nice big cock.
“I’ll bet you’d like to be a cocksucker too wouldn’t you, Alex. Well, we don’t have much time today, your twat friend will be wondering what happened to you, so we’ll just settle for a nice ass fuck today, but you give me your telephone number, and we’ll plan another date real soon. That way, I’ll also know where to find you, in case you open your cocksucker mouth to the wrong person about this beautiful experience.
“Oh, yeah, buck that ass, hump that plunger. Does that hurt, baby? Does that feel like its rearranging your guts? It probably is, but you’re nuts if you think I’m going to stop at eight inches. A big healthy fifteen-year-old boy like you, you can certainly take more than eight inches. Oh, yes...now you feel it, don’t you pussy boy. Of course, that handle isn’t nearly as thick as my prick will be, but it is a lot more rigid than my cock and not as flexible. Oh, Jesus, boy, now you are puking into the urinal. Now you are going to have to lick all that up as well. What a fucking waste you are turning out to be. I have a good mind to take a belt to your ass. Stop grunting like a fucking pig. You only have ten inches up your twat. I’ve got an idea, crawl back out of that urinal. Crawl around the room with the plunger sticking out of your ass.”
Poor young deflowered, degraded Alex tried to protest that he could not crawl with the plunger stuffing his guts, but he could not even form words anymore, and besides, Mr. Black was not taking no for an answer. So the teenage boy crawled stiffly around in a circle on the bathroom floor with the wooden plunger sticking obscenely out of his tight young ass. With each inch he crawled, the boy thought he would collapse. The room spun, his guts felt ripped apart, but he knew he dared not resist Mr. Black’s wishes.
Mr. Black peeled off his Speedos. He played for a moment with his gigantic leaking dick. Then he willed himself to relax. Soon he was able to stand over the crawling boy and let loose with a thick hard spray of piss.
“An arrogant boy like you needs to be pissed on regularly. Your father should piss on your face at least twice a week, just to teach you humility. Parents don’t know how to bring up their kids nowadays. My own father pissed in my mouth every day from the time I was six until I was sixteen. That’s when I killed him. Hey, boy, do some pushups for me. But first, you need a couple more inches of the plunger in you.”
Pete Daniels entered the FBI training room that had been set up for him. Seated there on folding chairs were two teenage boys. In the corner was a single bed. Bob smiled.
“Pete, this is Luis, and this is Marty. They are both legal age, of course. Although, I admit Luis looks not a day over fifteen. I do believe this is the first time in our long and honorable history, that the FBI has ever procured the services of boy hustlers.”
Luis was a small thin Latino. Marty was a tall blond muscular farm boy type. They both had shy, sweet smiles.
“Pete, Marty, and Luis have been hired to teach you everything they know about gay sex. They know that you’ve had some limited experience in cocksucking and stuff in high school and college.”
Pete blushed. Did everyone know about the experimental days of his youth? He knew the Agency was thorough, but holy shit, he never suspected they went into that kind of detail. Bob left Pete alone with the two teenage hustlers.
“Look, guys, I fooled around a bit in school, it’s true, but I found I really liked girls, so I’m not sure this is even going to work. I don’t mind telling you I feel terribly intimidated and unresponsive. I’m sorry, but men just don’t do a thing for me.”
Luis smiled a big toothy smile at the cute FBI agent.
“No problem, man. We’ll strip and dance for you, Then we’ll suck your dick and lick your asshole. While I suck your hole, Marty will lick your balls. I’ll bet you all the money they’re paying us that you will enjoy it very much.”
“You’re one handsome guy, dude,” Marty said. “Just think, I’m gonna be sucking the schlong of an FBI agent. Holy shit.”
“Then we’ll teach you how to fuck boy ass, so you look really good. Like you’ve been doing it all your life. Then we teach you some piss and shit games.”
“Thank you, but no thank you. No piss and shit games. I draw the line there.”
“Very well, we’ll see. Here the FBI even provided some free drugs to make the trip more easy and comfortable.”
‘Oh, dear Jesus God, what am I getting into,’ Pete thought as he got stoned.
In his mind’s eye, he saw his sons, so innocent, so sweet. Then he saw the thirteen-year-old boy on the bed getting fucked by a Great Dane dick. He had to help. He simply had to.
Pete Daniels watched as his eleven-year-old son Ryan stepped out of the bathtub/shower. The small boy was slender and smooth, and quite beautiful as only boys that age can be. Pete’s mind flashed to the horrible videos he had watched for the last week. Videos of boys like Ryan engaged in depraved, horrendous sex acts. Sex acts orchestrated by that monster of degeneracy, Mr. Black. Pete became more committed than ever to stamp out the underground porno network.
“Dad, have you seen my underpants?” the boy asked him.
“No, son, I doubt they would fit me.”
The boy laughed his life-affirming fresh-faced freckled boy smile and scratched one perfectly pink ass cheek with his small hand.
“Yeah…I guess. Where’s Randy?”
“Downstairs watching TV. Come on down when you finish, and we’ll pop some popcorn and put on a video.”
Put on a video. Pete’s mind flashed again to the video of the fourteen-year-old Latino boy getting brutally fucked in his mouth and ass by that gang of black boys—another Mr. Black original film. As much as he hated his current assignment, he had to protect boys like his sons from molesters like Mr. Black.
Downstairs, Pete saw his other son, twelve-year-old Randy curled up on the couch dressed in nothing but a pair of plaid shorts, flipping through channels on the TV with his remote.
“Nothing but crap on, Dad.” the boy yelled when he saw his father head for the kitchen.
“That’s a matter of opinion. There’s an opera on PBS.”
The kid giggled.
“Opera, yeah, right. That’ll be the day.”
The phone rang.
“Hello?” Pete took it on the cordless in the kitchen.
“Pete, this is Bob, from the Bureau. Sorry to call you at home after an already long impossible day down here.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”
Pete reached up and scratched one nipple where the teenage hustler had bitten it earlier that day. Pete poured a beer for himself. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of tight jeans. He had explained the scratch marks and love bites on his body to his boys as an accident at work.
“Pete, I’ve been watching the videos of your work with those street boys. Very good. Anybody watching you fuck and get sucked would swear you were really queer.”
“Those boys played rough. I didn’t enjoy it.”
“The men you will be hunting down, play a hell of a lot rougher, and the little boys they ass fuck and forced to eat shit don’t enjoy it either. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that we all respect what you are doing for your country. I got a note from a very high up in our outfit, saying that he was proud of you. He saw the videos and commented on how difficult it must be for a straight man with two sons to fuck other boys in the ass and get his dick sucked by hustlers.”
“You showed somebody those videos of me?”
Pete could not believe it.
“Calm down, Pete. Only to your four direct superiors and the doctors in the psychology department to make sure you could handle it. And then the fellas in the sexual assault unit. And then, of course, to your team members working on this case with you.”
“Bob, how many people total have seen those films of me having gay sex?”
“It doesn’t matter. Look—”
“It matters to me! How many?”
Pete scratched his balls. His big dick was sore from those hustlers sucking on it all day. He had to admit though that he was turned on as hell by it. Strange, his last gay fling had been in college, and it had not done much for him at all. That’s why he had stuck to the ladies after that.
“Forty people saw me getting my cock sucked,” Pete snapped, just as his oldest son entered the kitchen. Randy made a funny face. Pete looked down at his son. “It’s a joke, son.”
“Pete, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, believe me. If I had a dick like yours, I’d flash it all over the place. Still, I know this is humiliating for you, but how else will you fool Mr. Black’s people that you are a pedophile?”
“That’s such a polite word for such an ugly thing,” Pete said
Pete was watching his fourteen-year-old son get some peanut butter out of the fridge. The boy’s pecs were starting to develop, and his nipples were getting more mature. His tummy was tightening up a bit, and his ass was developing. He was growing up.
“What’s a polite word for an ugly thing?” Randy asked.
“None of your beeswax. Now get out, this is business.”
When the boy was gone, he continued, “Bob, I haven’t had any sex at all since my wife died, so this is extra difficult for me. I just don’t know if I can do it. I don’t mind getting the blowjobs, but I don’t particularly like ass fucking.”
“You’d never guess that from the videos. Shit, you really plowed those kids in the ass. You’re one violent fucker.”
“You told me I had to pretend to be a child molester who was heartless and cruel. I’m just practicing what you order. Besides, those hustlers probably get it harder than that all the time.”
“I don’t know, the little Latino complained that your dick was too big and he wanted more money.”
“Well, don’t give it to him. I’ve practiced enough.”
“That’s just it, Pete. You haven’t. You’ve fucked some eighteen-year-old hustlers, but if you go after Black, you will be dealing with men who fuck boys for sport. What if you’re called upon to perform and can’t. You can kiss your life goodbye.”
“Well, what do you propose?”
Pete put some microwave popcorn in the oven.
“Well, this is strictly illegal and unwholesome…and unholy, but it’s necessary. Nobody knows about this except you and me. I know a guy. A real scumbag who’s going to prison for a long, long time for pimping his own children. He makes his kids sell their asses for him, a cute little girl and boy. The boy is thirteen. And I thought...”
“Bob, don’t go there.”
“Pete, listen to me. We’ve got to get Black. It’s the only way. Somebody has to infiltrate his outfit. That somebody has to pass himself off as a pedophile. They’re cautious about who they let join their exclusive club. They do extensive checks, and I’ll bet they make the guys incriminate themselves before they allow them in.
Now, it isn’t as if this thirteen-year-old kid hasn’t been fucked before. His dad’s been selling him on the streets for years, so I set up a meeting for you and the kid. You don’t say you’re from the Bureau. You’re just a john looking for a piece of boy pussy. You fuck the kid to make sure you can. Think of what would happen if you were in front of Mr. Black and his gang, and you couldn’t get a hardon.”
Pete thought about it as he watched his two sons in the living room wrestle on the carpet wearing nothing but their shorts.
Mr. Black, wearing an expensive burgundy Italian sweater, dark grey slacks, and hand-sewn loafers, strolled into the office of Burke, the Headmaster of Lakeland School for Boys. Both men were about the same age and equally handsome in their own ways. Burke was a bit rougher looking than the refined Mr. Black was. They would have jumped each other’s hot bods, except that their tastes ran toward boys eighteen and under—sometimes way under.
Burke liked Mr. Black. Well, admired him is a better word. Burke had carefully worked his way up to this position of power in this private school cum boy factory, but he was no way in the league of Mr. Black. He fixed a vodka martini for his illustrious guest.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Black?”
Burke hated kissing ass unless it was that of a smooth young boy, but sometimes one had to kiss ass to get ahead.
“I am here on behalf of a client, a client who, because of his fame and delicate position, cannot come for himself. He is in the market for a new toy.”
Burke raised one heavy eyebrow and smiled his cruel handsome smile.
“Anybody I know?”
Now it was Mr. Black’s turn to smile his wry, cynical smile.
“Now, now Burke, be a good boy. You know I cannot name names. That would be against our policy, but I will tell you this. He is a famous recording star who was recently in trouble for getting caught jacking off in a men’s room. Does that tell you enough?”
“Well, that narrows it somewhat.”
Both men laughed.
“He wants a boy cunt of about thirteen no older than fourteen. He doesn’t have time to fuck around with training a kid, so he wants one fully trained and ready to please and obey. Do you have anything like that lying around in this place?”
“Only about two hundred of them ages eight to eighteen. What are the specifics?”
“Slender, not too tall, sandy-colored hair, blue or green eyes. Not to mature yet. A little prick hair is fine, but no well-defined chest development, nipples about nickel size. He’d like a five to six-inch dick, hard, and he loves balls that hand low in the sack. Although he wants the kid well trained, he doesn’t want a sloppy asshole. He likes boys with pretty asses, legs, and feet.”
Burke laughed again and sipped his own drink.
“They all want well trained but tight assholes. How do they think the assholes get trained? ‘Eh...please, Burke, I want a kid of thirteen who can take a baseball bat up his rectum, but I also want him tight as a virgin.’ ”
“That’s why they pay you the big bucks, Burke.”
“No, Mr. Black, you make the big bucks. I’m a salaried employee of Lakeland. Most of the money we make goes back into security and payola. Well, let’s see. I’ve got a boy that I think your client will enjoy.” Burke picked up the phone. “Lyle, fetch Alan and bring him down here, will you? No, Alan Holmes. If he’s been fucking or sucking cock, clean him up will you? Thanks.”
Ten minutes later, the door to the office opened, and a small, slender boy of thirteen entered. He had messy moderately long sandy colored hair and beautiful green eyes. He had a cute little boy’s nose and full lips. He was dressed in a very tight tee-shirt that only came down below his nipples, leaving his tummy naked. He also wore very tight jeans that were rubbed so thin in the crotch the threads showed. The jeans rode very low, leaving his belly button and lower abdomen visible. Some of his sandy-colored prick bush showed. The boy stood with his legs spread, knees slightly bent, and his ass thrust out. His hands were up and clasped behind his neck, his nipples were visible through the thin tee shirt material of his pushed forward chest.
“Mr. Black. This is Alan. Alan, Mr. Black wants to see how well trained you are. We don’t want to disappoint him, now do we? We don’t want a discipline session. Not now, after you have been doing so well. Mr. Black, would you care to examine the boy.”
“Strip!” Mr. Black said quietly, and ten seconds later, the thirteen-year-old boy was bare-ass naked. Mr. Black walked around the boy. “Spread your ass cheeks,” he commanded, and the boy reached back, gripped a smooth pale ass mound in each hand and pulled, revealing his pink hairless asshole. While the hole had obviously been fucked and opened, it was still perfectly round and tight, not yet turned into a cunt. “Get a hardon,” Mr. Black ordered.
The boy began to yank on his dick. The other hand went to his asshole and began to finger it.
Mr. Black smiled.
“The little pig likes pussy stimulation, huh? Okay, cuntslop, let’s see your boner.”
The boy turned and thrust out his slender hips. From his small flat groin, a dick a bit over six inches slapped up against his tummy. Mr. Black grabbed the dick and squeezed the circumcised head.
“Only young boys have such delicious tummy slappers. Nice eggs on the baby too,” he said, feeling the kid’s ample balls. “You produce a lot of fuck sauce, boy?”
“I think so, sir. I try.”
The boy had a pleasing tenor voice. His face was adorable.
“Masturbate for me, boy, and show me how far you can shoot.”
The bare-assed thirteen-year-old boy standing in the center of the office began to frig his dick while being watched by the two men. He spread his big, well arched teenage feet and bent his knees a bit.
“May I finger my cunt, sir?”
Mr. Black smiled. The boy did seem well trained.
“Be my guest.”
The boy rammed three fingers of his left hand into his asshole as he pumped his teen prick with his right hand. It was quite sweet to watch.
“Tell me about your family, boy,” Mr. Black requested.
“My mom and dad were killed in a plane crash two years ago. My uncle sent me here.”
“And, are you grateful to your uncle?”
“Yes, sir. At Lakeland, I’ve learned the proper place in life for fuck wads like myself, sir. I learned that I was an arrogant young shithead and that I’m good for nothing in life but to serve the cocks of real men.”
“Do you have a nickname here at school?”
“Yes, sir. The teachers call me Sloplips because I drool a lot when I suck dick, sir. Ugh...ugh...permission to shoot my load, sir?”
“Yes, aim for the hardwood floor over there.”
“The boy’s thin chest heaved as he pumped his teenage prick. His hips bucked, and his ass cheeks tightened. His hand flew on his pecker, and then a couple of really hard yanks. His nuts had pulled up to the base of the prick. He moaned, and a spray of fuck shot from his pulsing pisshole. The creamy, thick cum roped across the room to splatter onto the wooden floor. The boy shot four more spurts, each less than the first. Finally, he stood, dick drooping and leaking cum onto his hairless thigh. His hand was covered in dick slop.
“Clean up,” Burke said simply.
Thirteen-year-old Alan put his cummy hand up to his own mouth and began to lick. Mr. Black observed carefully. The boy reached down to his prick and squeezed the remaining cum spooge from the dick head, and then he licked that. He then got down on his hands and knees and crawled across the floor, his young ass thrust high in the air, legs spread so his balls would swing, head down, full tongue extended, licking the cum off first the carpet, then the wooden floor.
“Excellent, Alan. I’m quite pleased. I like the way you keep your ass up and open when you crawl. That’s a good little breeder. Has he been dog fucked much?”
“At least three times a week for the last year and a half.”
Alan knelt up, facing the two men. He opened his mouth to show the cum on his tongue.
“He is a real little whore, isn’t he?”
“The fuckwad was born a whore. He just didn’t know it until he got here.”
Mr. Black scooped some of the boy’s fuck slop off his tongue and wiped it on the kid’s face.
“You look cute with cum on your face.”
“Oh…thank you, sir.”
The teenager seemed genuinely pleased with the compliment.
“Squat on the wooden floor and take a shit for me.”
Was that a sign of resistance? Just before the boy turned to squat, his eyelids half-closed as if he were dreading the experience. The lad had beautiful long eyelashes. Mr. Black hoped the boy would not enjoy the degradation since it was no fun if he did. The boy had to detest it, but have to do it anyway. That was the fun of playing with boys. Making them do what they loathed.
Alan looked darling squatting on the floor, legs spread wide, ass pushed out so the two men could see the boy squeezing boy turds from his ass. Two long ropey light brown turds plopped down onto the floor. Then Alan looked at the men as if to say, “Is that enough?”
Mr. Black smiled.
“That’s fine, Alan, really fine. Now, eat the shit.”
Have you ever seen a naked teenage boy eat shit? It is a sight to behold. Even those of you who are not into toilet sex would find yourselves entranced at the utter and breathtaking humiliation of a lanky teenage youth actually having to eat shit. Nothing so reduced a healthy boy to the status of fuck animal-like having to eat turds. To enjoy watching a boy eat shit, you have to overcome your aversion to the smell, of course. You have to be able to concentrate on the complete degradation of the lad, opening his mouth to take a shit log into it, then chewing the shit, covering his beautiful lips, and getting it in his teeth and gums.
Mr. Black watched for any sign of hesitation. He knew his client had a fondness for dumping directly into a boy’s mouth. Alan ate shit very well, passing the test with flying colors.
“Now, stick your finger down your throat and make yourself puke the shit back up onto the floor.”
The boy looked a bit sick but obeyed at once. He spewed his last lunch and some cum and the shit in gut-wrenching heaves. Mr. Black loved the way the boy’s slender tummy fluttered. The mess on the floor was absolutely gross, and strings of puke hung from the boy’s slack lips.
“Outstanding, Alan. Now, eat it again.”
The boy looked very miserable but bent his head, and without gagging, a thing he had been taught to resist, he licked up the puke-shit mess.
“Burke, I’m really quite impressed. Is there somewhere the boy can clean up?”
“A private bathroom with shower right through that door.”
“Splendid. I’ll fuck the little cunt in the shower and try out his cocksucking abilities as well, but I’m certain I will take him.” Mr. Black started to undress. “Now, all we have to do is find a boy for my client!”
Pete Daniels was sick all night. He kept puking. In the middle of the night, Randy found his dad kneeling naked with his head in the toilet. Randy stood there in just his underpants, looking down at his dad.
“What’s the matter, Dad, are you all right?”
“It’s nothing, Tiger, go back to bed. It’s probably just something I ate.”
Pete knew. It was nothing he ate. It was something he had fucked, a boy, a boy only a little older than his son. He had fucked the boy in the ass that afternoon at a cheap hotel, and he was now ready for the mission. He had been able to slam the kid well.
He had done well. Too well.
He had worn a rubber, of course, but his orgasm was tremendous, shooting a huge fucking load. He had never felt such a cum. That scared him and made him sick. In his mind’s eye, he saw the boy’s slender back and perfect round ass. He remembered the boy moaning and grunting, and telling him he was too big. He fucked the boy’s ass for the FBI. He fucked the boy so he could now go out and hunt down boy fuckers. The fucking problem was…he had enjoyed it!
The two thirteen-year-old boys in the rear of the limo were bare-ass naked. They sat with their legs spread wide apart, so their young pink dicks and balls showed as they had been taught to do. Thirteen-year-old cocks and balls are magnificent, so perfect in their soft-skinned vulnerability, still so delicate. The boys sat with their eyes looking down, and Mr. Black scrutinized them for any mistakes in their behavior. The slightest fuckup would lead to horrible punishment, so these boys were on their very best behavior. Good.
The two lads could have been brothers, both with sandy hair and green eyes, both with hauntingly sensual lean young bodies, so erotic in their innocent nakedness that they should never wear clothing. They looked so ripe for the plucking, so ripe for the fucking, for the corrupting, for the molesting, for the degrading. That would have to wait.
Mr. Black directed his eighteen-year-old driver to stop at Mount Mary Hospital before proceeding to the airport.
Mr. Black had originally only planned on buying one boy, for a client of his, but the complete obedience and broken will of sweet little Alan, and the boy’s perfect cocksucker mouth and cunt-lipped asshole really turned him on. He intended to have lots of fun playing with the teenager, trying to find something so disgusting or horrible that Alan would not do it instantly upon command so that he could then punish the boy. This was one of Mr. Black’s favorite hobbies.
The other boy, Christopher, seemed confused and openly scared. He kept shaking his head as if talking to himself, and his mop of sandy hair fell about his eyes. He had a beautiful, well-shaped natural cocksucker mouth too. Amazing how many thirteen-year-old boys have that slight forward thrust to their sweet, full lips as if ready for a big juicy dick at all times. Mr. Black found it strange that teenage boys could not take compliments well. So often, he had walked up to a boy at a mall and complimented the young man, telling him that he had perfect cocksucker lips or a delightfully fuckable young ass, and instead of being flattered and thanking him for the compliment, the boy would often seem shocked or offended. Mr. Black was even willing to let teenage boys practice their dick slurping skills on him, but so many of them were either too shy or unaware of their potential.
The limo pulled up outside the hospital.
“Now, boys, I’ll be right back, and we’ll head out to the airport, but I have to visit one of my boys here first. While I’m gone, I want you to get on the floor of the car and sixty-nine each other. Do not cum! I want to see nice hard leaking teen dicks when I get back. Well, what are you two fuckholes waiting for? Get to it.”
The two bare-assed teenagers scrambled to the floor and placed themselves with their faces in each other’s crotches. They opened their sweet full-lipped mouths and slurped each other’s soft teen pricks in. Mr. Black could hear them sloppily sucking. He liked his cocksucker boys to make lots of piggy noises when they sucked dick to show they were having a good time.
“He may be sleeping,” the cute young male nurse said, “but I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. He’s had no visitors.”
“Well, he has very few friends, as you can imagine. When his parents threw him out of the house, he became a runaway. I provided a foster home for him.”
“That’s wonderful of you, Mr. Black. It’s such a sad story to be a homosexual at twelve. Think about how that can ruin your life.”
Mr. Black looked offended.
“Oh, no, I’m afraid we’re going to insist that Derek takes responsibility for his actions and turn his life around.”
The nurse lowered his voice. “May I ask you a personal question?”
Mr. Black smiled as he removed his expensive topcoat.
“Of course, Nurse…” he leaned in to read the tag on the nurse’s chest, “Nurse Eldon.”
“Well, this is very delicate, but...I mean...his asshole is as big as the Lincoln Tunnel, and I was just wondering…he seems like such a sweet, shy boy.”
Mr. Black sighed.
“Oh, it’s a terrible story. You see, in every way, Derek is a beautiful young boy. In every way except one, he has this overwhelming thing for Negro penises.”
Young Nurse Eldon gulped, and his chest heaved.
“Yes. It started when Derek was ten or so, I guess. He just cannot get enough nigger dick. You will pardon my vulgarity, but I was merely illustrating how he feels about it. That’s what he calls it, ‘nigger dick.’ He sluts around the town and hangs around outside black bars, trying to pick up black men—so he can fill his daily need for black cock. Thirty or forty black dudes fuck him each night. Is it any wonder, his God-fearing, church-loving parents threw him out onto the street?”
The nurse chewed his pretty lip.
“Yes, they do say homosexuals can become addicted to black…eh...penises. I’ve read about that. I wonder what it’s like.”
Mr. Black made a clicking noise with his mouth.
“Well, he’s a delicate, small-boned boy, as you know. At twelve, he looks more like ten. Imagine how those big thick nigger dicks stretched his poor little asshole.”
Nurse Eldon could hardly breathe, so Mr. Black, who suspected the nurse’s cock was hard and dripping, left him and entered Derek’s room, closing and locking the door behind him. Derek was awake but staring at the ceiling. Derek looked over, and a look of utter terror covered his sweet young face. Mr. Black walked toward the bed.
“Well, Fuckhole, how are you doing? Here, I brought you a present.”
He threw the magazine on the bed. It was a porno rag about naked black studs sporting thirteen-inch pricks.
“Please, sir, leave me alone now. I did everything you ordered. I let the black men fuck me over and over…please, leave me alone.”
Mr. Black smiled at the boy’s entreaty.
“You ought to see the video, bitch. It’s gonna be a million-dollar seller. Imagine how those lonely men will be thrilled by Black Loving Derek’s Gang Bang. That montage at the beginning of over fifty different niggers shooting off in all your holes is going to win awards, I’m telling you now. I’ll bet your daddy would die if he ever saw that.”
Huge tears rolled down the little boy’s cheeks.
“You made me do it.”
“Of course, I made you do it. It’s the price we pay for stardom. Besides, you were prejudiced. You didn’t like blacks and we just had to do something about that. Anyway, the dick slop pouring all over you, and your mouth and ass stuffed with dick after dick of thick black nigger dick, is impressive stuff for a thirteen-year-old cum dump. And then, the pièce de résistance, a video of your double fisting stretching your cunt fully open, is extraordinary. It’s a remarkable sight, I mean you’re so tiny, and the fucking arms were so huge.”
Poor Derek was sobbing now.
“Please leave me alone now.”
Mr. Black reached out and slapped the boy.
“You stupid pig, leave you alone now? Now is the prime time to make doggie films. I want you fucking by Wednesday.”
The boy’s eyes grew wide. His fingers became white as he grabbed the sheets.
“The doctor said I can’t have sex for at least two months. The fucking really messed my assho…cunt up bad.”
“Well, little cock whore, maybe you can’t have ‘sex’ for six weeks, but you are gonna get dog fucked on Wednesday. What do doctors know anyway? I want shots of some dog cock in your pussy.” Mr. Black pulled the bottom of the bedsheet up. “Spread your legs and show me your pussy.”
Mr. Black reached up and slapped the boy’s face hard.
“Spread, faggot, and show me that twat!” Mr. Black poked around painfully in the boy’s battered and bruised asshole for a while to see if he was indeed healing. “That cum dump is ready for rutting now.”
Then Mr. Black took out his dick and made Derek suck him while the boy lay on the bed while Mr. Black stood at the side, but Mr. Black grew bored and put his still hard prick back in his pants.
“Tomorrow, you’re going to have five different niggers visit you, really disgusting street bums. You be real nice to each of them. You give each of them a really nice blowjob. On Wednesday, you’ll be picked up by a nice young black stud and taken for a photo shoot before you go home. I’ll have one of my boys call you about your video schedule.”
“Please. Please, sir, can’t it stop? Can’t it stop now?”
“You know, you fucking bore me. I want you horse fucked in three months. Good night, honey.”
Mr. Black was pissed on the way to the elevator. The little faggot had really made him angry and needed to be brought down a peg or two.
For some reason, he glanced to the right as he approached the elevator. It was a private room bathed in green lamplight. It seemed so quiet and peaceful that Mr. Black was prompted to take a look. In the bed was a startlingly handsome teen of about sixteen. The kid had one leg up in a cast suspended from pulleys. Even with the stupid hospital gown covering him, Mr. Black could see at once that the boy was an athlete. There was just something about his well-toned body. The kid had a mop of curly brown hair, a youthful Irish looking face, a wide mouth, dark flashing eyes, a large sexy nose and a strong chin.
“Well, how are we doing tonight, young man?” Mr. Black asked, looking at the boy’s bed chart, multiple fractures in the right leg.
“Oh, just great, I’m out for the most important game in years. Of all the fucking bad luck.”
“Yeah. Them’s the breaks as they say. Well, be grateful you have an injury that will mend.”
“I guess so, Doctor, but it sure sucks.”
The kid was a pussy melter, no doubt about it—a one hundred percent straight stud.
“Speaking of sucking, if you don’t mind me being blunt, what are you doing for sex with this injury? Healthy jock like you is probably used to screwing his girlfriend three or four times a week.”
While he talked, Mr. Black poked and prodded the young man’s muscular torso, as doctors are prone to do. He removed the top of the dressing gown and put his ear to the boy’s full pouty nipple. He could feel the tit erect as he rubbed his ear on it.
“I’ll say, man. I haven’t fucked my girlfriend in nearly a week. I’m about to explode.”
Mr. Black admired the boy’s youthful jock candor.
“Well, buddy, this is just between you and me, but there is a damn hot nurse on this floor, Elaine, and I hear she give dynamite blow jobs.”
“Are you shitting me?”
The kid was so fucking cute.
“No, she’s already sucked off half the guys on the floor. All you gotta do it ask.”
Mr. Black had the kid’s dressing gown totally off now and was feeling the boy’s balls and groin for a hernia. Yeah, right. The jock had a huge full scrotum and a nice meaty dick with a fat circumcised head. Nice thick high school jock dick.
“I just ask her for a blowjob?”
“Well,” Mr. Black was stroking the boy’s cock now and felt it grow heavier and thicker.
“She likes to be ordered about. It’s probably the nurse in her. She likes guys to call her bitch and slut. Say something to her like, ‘Get down there and suck my dick, bitch, you know you want it. Get that mouth twat slurping on my fuck slab, you useless hole you. She’ll be on you in no time.”
“Jesus, no doctor ever gave me advice like that before.”
“Well, how do you think the stupid cunt feels, touching guys dicks all day and feeling their assholes? I mean, her pussy is constantly wet. And then I heard a rumor that her fiancé only has five inches. Speaking of assholes, you need an enema, young man.”
The jock’s eyes grew wide.
“I do? I never had one.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal. It can be a bit embarrassing, though, to have some cunt of a nurse shoving a hose up your asshole and draining out your shit, so I’ll help you out if you want.”
“Gee, thanks, Doctor. Yeah, I feel really weird when female nurses touch me down there and stuff. I’m always afraid I’m gonna spring a woody.”
“That’s no problem. The fucking nurses love it. They gossip about the dick sizes of the patients all the time. And you certainly have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Mr. Black brought the hose and the bag over to the bed.
“Yeah, I guess all this talk is getting me kinda hard right now. Sorry.”
Mr. Black laughed and playfully slapped the boy’s huge fat nine-inch throbbing dick.
“All in a day’s work for a doctor.”
“I know that you can’t move the leg that’s in the cast, but can you bring your other leg up to your chest for me?
“It really hurts if I move too much.”
The movement of the kid’s hips was sending pain down through his recently set leg, which was just fine with Mr. Black.
“Don’t be such a pussy, kid. Here let me help you.”
He grabbed the naked thigh of the injured jock and pulled his good leg back. The boy howled with pain. Good thing Mr. Black had closed and locked the door.
“There we go. Now you just hold your leg up against your chest like that.”
This gave Mr. Black a perfect view of the high school jock’s balls and his tiny corrugated flower of rectum flesh. An unfucked jock asshole. A warm moist, pink-brown cock target.
Mr. Black forced two fingers roughly into the boy’s ass pucker. The kid bit his lip but did not cry out. He hated being called a pussy since his father had done that when he was young. He winced and scrunched up his cute young face and bore the pain. He tried to accept the pain like Coach Hughes had taught him to do. His encased leg throbbed, but the doctor must know what he’s doing, right?
Right! Mr. Black enjoyed the view, just a few curls of asshole hair around the invaded brownish pink ass lips. Mr. Black stretched and spread his fingers, working the hole until he was deep into the rectum.
“Do you gotta do this, Doctor?” the boy moaned, biting his lip, his pale, muscular torso twisting and turning as best he could to accommodate the fingers plowing into his shithole.
“It’s either me or a nurse. Although, I’ll bet Nurse Elaine might enjoy sucking your ass. She’s probably a champion ass sucker. Did you ever have a twat suck your ass, young man?”
“Fuck, no,” the kid grunted as Mr. Black spread his fingers more and scraped the rectal lining with his fingernails. “It’s hard enough to get a chick to suck dick, much less suck ass.”
“Oh, man, boy, you don’t know what you are missing. One of the great pleasures of life is to get some slut sucking on your shithole real sloppy like for about an hour. I can’t tell you how great it feels. And it’s great to see the sluts with ass slime all over their faces. I personally prefer younger cunts for ass sucking. Their soft young faces and mouth pussies work so well for a good ass suck. This may hurt a little...”
Mr. Black pulled out and then shoved three fingers into the jock’s virgin asshole.
“Oh, Christ, that hurts a lot. Go easy, will you?”
Mr. Black opened the three fingers so the inner ass lining would stretch, then he pulled back, loving the look of the raw ass being turned into outer pink hole flesh.
“You know, this is kind of like going to the dentist. It hurts like hell, but there’s no way to get around it. It’s just got to be done.”
The thumb went in.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, shit! What the fuck are you doing to me?”
“I know it’s a bit uncomfortable. Imagine how your girlfriend feels when your big horse cock plows into her little twat. It must feel something like this, huh?”
Mr. Black forced the thumb and fingers wide apart. A little blood from scratching the rectal wall helped to lubricate the now gaping boy-cunt.
“Oh, Jesus, please stop. I can’t take any more. Doctor, please!”
“Gotta check for prostate cancer while we are in there.”
Mr. Black now had his whole hand in the high school jock’s asshole.
“Oh, god, stop, please stop! Please stop!” Foam flecked the boy’s chewed lips. “You’re fucking tearing up my insides!”
His body lurched and bounced on the bed, sending fresh waves of pain through his leg, but that was nothing to the torment in his asshole.
“Almost done, young man. Almost ready for the enema tube.”
Mr. Black rammed his hand deep into the kid’s tortured guts. He could feel the jock’s whole body spasm around his invading hand. The high school boy let out a whoop as if he was on an amusement park ride. The ride from hell! Mr. Black grabbed the boy’s dick, and using the dick as a handle, fucked his other hand in and out of the tormented rectum.
Then he pulled his hand free and wiped it on the bedsheet. The boy on the bed kept bucking and jerking as if he was getting an electric shock. His healthy young body was bathed in sweat.
“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
The kid grunted and gurgled. Mr. Black adored it when boys made pig noises, reducing them to their basic animal state.
“This may hurt a bit going in since your asshole’s pretty tight.”
Mr. Black used no lube on the tube. He quickly jammed the tube way up the kid’s asshole. Then he went to the sink and filled the rubber bag with very hot and very soapy water.
“What are you doing?” the kid murmured, obviously terrified and in great pain, as his fat pouty jock nipples heaved up and down on his muscular pecs.
“Preparing your enema, so your insides are clean and healthy.”
It was a large bag, and it was full of hot soapy water. It went into the jock’s ass.
“This is horrible. This is awful. I hate this,” the boy moaned.
“Yes, but it prevents infection in your bowels and intestines. Look at how your tummy’s swelling just like you are pregnant.
“Doctor, that’s enough. I feel like I’m going to burst. I think you hurt something inside my ass already. Doctor, I protest. It’s giving me horrible cramps.”
“Oh, we still have one whole bag to go. Don’t worry. I know what’s best for you.”
“Doc...oh…Doc...fuck...please...I can’t hold it. Christ, I’m gonna shit the bed.”
“Do try to hold those flabby ass lips tight. Think how embarrassing it would be if you shit your bed. What if your high school pals heard about that. They might think you were a faggot and had been fucked up the ass-twat so often that you had no control over your hole.”
Mr. Black had to laugh, watching the boy—in extreme pain—struggling to hold the soapy water in his hole, especially after it had been loosened so badly. The jock was actually bawling now.
Mr. Black attached the second bag to the tube and released the flow of water. The kid’s hard muscular stomach was bloated like a pregnant sow and did look as if it was about to explode. Mr. Black wished he had a camera. This would look so good in the high school yearbook.
He went over to the supply cabinet and returned with another tube and a clamp. He gingerly lifted the boy’s thick dick in his hand and examined the jock’s fine thick piss lips. Then he roughly shoved the tube up the boy’s pisshole. The jock screamed bloody murder. He could not even form coherent words anymore, not that the stupid athlete ever could. Mr. Black quickly fucked the tube in and out of the boy’s penis with fast little jerks, watching the piss lips stretch. Suddenly a geyser of piss shot up out of the tube. Mr. Black aimed the piss gush at the kid’s cute face. Piss splashed all over the bed and the boy.
“Now, see what you’ve done. You’ve pissed yourself! What a miserable little pussy you are.”
Mr. Black fixed a clamp to the hose, so the rest of the piss was trapped in the kid’s burning cock. The young jock was only half-conscious, numbed and dazed by the unbearable pain. Mr. Black calmly reached up and caressed the boy’s finely arched naked raised foot. Using his other hand on the cast for leverage, he applied his knowledge of Hong Gar Kung Fu and quickly broke each toe on the boy’s foot.
The jock was choking now. Choking from the unbearable agony, his head snapped from side to side on the pillow. Spit and puke shot from his lips. Mr. Black reached down just before where the cast started and grabbed the boy’s ankle. SNAP! The unfortunate victim could not even scream anymore. He simply gurgled.
One well-placed blow broke the boy’s other leg. Two more fractured it in two separate places. He yanked the tube from the boy’s ruptured asshole, and shit water sprayed all over the bed. He gave the boy a hard blow to the bloated tummy and the shit exploded from the asshole. Mr. Black laughed and washed his hands at the sink. He spied a football trophy of a player about to throw a pass standing on the bureau. Mr. Black took it, weighed its considerable heft, and shoved it deep into the jock’s asshole. Then he took his coat and left.
In a tiny deli on Eighth Avenue, off Forty-Second Street, Pete Daniels asked the Indian manager if he could have a boy to carry his groceries home for him. This was how the child molester network worked in New York now that the boys could no longer work openly on Forty-Second Street. Walt the Fuck Disney’s corporation had seen to that. They had turned the place into a playground for every kind of kid except those who had to sell their sweet little asses to make a living. Those little whores were driven to more secret locations now. The least Disney could have done would have been to open a “Sweet Young Boy Ass Store” with rows and rows of upturned asses from which to choose.
“How about this fine young man?”
The deli manager beamed, as a boy of about eight or nine appeared from the back room. The kid was tiny, wearing jeans, tennis shoes and a windbreaker. Pete Daniels held his breath. Jesus Christ, he could not fuck a kid that young. He just could not, but Pete had to hook up with young street ass so word would get around that a new pedophile was in the area. That way, he hoped to link up with Mr. Black’s network eventually. The FBI agent looked down at the boy who boldly walked up and started rubbing the man’s crotch through his jeans.
“You look, big mister, wanna stretch my little pussy?” the little boy asked.
Once again, Pete Daniels thought of his own two dear little sons, and he almost puked.
“Ugh…sir, I had someone a little older in mind to carry my groceries, Maybe thirteen or fourteen.”
The Indian smiled and snapped his fingers, and the little boy ran off.
“Everyone to his own taste. Personally, I feel that by twelve, the asshole gets thick-skinned and abrasive, but if you prefer, how about my own nephew, Raj?”
Raj was a gorgeous dark-skinned, well-built lad of thirteen. He had large, flashing eyes and a magnificent smile. Instead of touching Pete, he stood there playing with his own cock. He rubbed the crotch of his jeans until a nice respectable boy lump tented out the front of the trousers.
“I do everything except eat shit,” the boy said.
“That will be fine,” Pete gulped. “How much is this one?”
“He’s my nephew, so he’s special, but for you, a special deal. A hundred and fifty an hour and I swear the boy has hardly been fucked at all. His boy-pussy is nice and tight.”
Pete pretended to reconsider.
“With a tip for the boy, that will come to well over two hundred, and I might want him for more than an hour.”
The Indian smiled and nodded.
“Okay, okay, mister, you drive a hard bargain. Two fifty for the whole night, and that includes the kid’s tip. Raj, show the man your body.”
Little Raj pulled his tee-shirt up to reveal a smooth brown stomach and a chest that was just starting to show definition. The kid’s nipples were large but still masculine and attractive. Then the boy undid his belt and tugged his jeans down, right there in the deli on Eighth Avenue. He had on tiny red briefs causing Pete to wince since his own youngest son had pair very like them.
“Ugh…that really won’t be...” Pete stammered as the little boy pulled down his underpants to show a four-inch dick and a small hairless cute bag of balls.
Pete could just imagine a cop walking in now. Would the FBI back him, or was he out on a limb on this case all alone with only his immediate superior in on the deal? The little Indian boy turned around and reaching back, he spread his tiny ass cheeks wide open to reveal a little flower of an asshole.
“You see how tiny and unfucked? He is waiting for you, mister, what do you think?”
The Indian walked over to his nephew and quickly shoved a large pickle up the boy’s asshole.
“Almost unfucked but ready to expand for you. You see, how elastic his hole is, tight but ready to stretch around your big cock.”
The teenage boy fucked back hard on the fat pickle. He rutted fast on it like teenagers fuck. Like a rabbit. Pete was losing it.
“Okay, okay, I’ll take him.”
Now all he had to do was pretend to be gay and make-believe he really wanted to screw the kid.
As he was leaving with the boy, the deli manager leaned over and whispered into his ear, “If you really want him to eat your shit, he will. It will just cost you more.”
Pete Daniels had been thrust into a carnival of depravity! All of this to get to Mr. Black. All of this to save innocent children.
Father James Tanner was young and good looking as well as vibrant in the pulpit and much loved by the parishioners of Holy Angels. His work with inner-city youth was already getting much praise from the higher-ups in the church. He seemed to have a special knack when it came to relating to people in general and young people in specific. His flashing green eyes, winning toothy smile, and dark curly hair made him movie star handsome and charismatic as all get out.
Father James was told by his secretary that someone was waiting to see him in his office. He sauntered with his usual athletic energy into the Church office only to face a man he had never seen before.
“I believe you told my secretary you’re an old friend of mine.” Father Jim said, somewhat miffed.
“Well, certainly not old, but I hope we will become good friends.” The guy was amazingly well dressed. He wore what must have been a three thousand dollar suit. He was handsome as well, with a strong masculine face and dark, wavy hair. “I’m Mr. Black.”
The man extended his hand, and Father Jim took it.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Black?”
“Well, Father, I make films, independent films, not your usual Hollywood variety. I’m working on one now called Father Jim’s Good Works.”
Father Jim perked up. Perhaps, at last, he was getting some decent media attention for his urban efforts. While he was not vain, he craved the support that only good press could gain him.
“Is this a documentary?” he asked, his handsome winning smile broadening.
“Oh, yes, in the sense that everything we film will actually happen. It all very cinéma vérité, and I want you to star in this film.”
“Well, our work here involves many who volunteer their time and money. It’s not just me...”
Shit, the guy could act modestly when he had to.
“Well, for our film, I’m afraid we just want you.”
Mr. Black had an unnerving stare.
“Well, anything to help the cause.”
Father Jim had a tall well-defined body, and now it relaxed in his chair like a young athlete at ease.
“Wonderful. I’m so glad you see things our way.”
“Exactly what will this film include?” Father Jim asked.
“Well, it will mostly concern you becoming the sexual mascot to a gang of urban nigger teens.”
Silence hung in the room as heavy as the thick curtains on the tall narrow office windows.
“What is this?” the young priest asked after a while.
“Our movie, or video to be exact, will be about Father Jim, a handsome young priest who falls into the hands of a gang to teenage street niggers. They take him to their clubhouse, strip him bare-assed, fuck his ass and mouth. Piss down his throat and turn him into a human nigger toilet. They tattoo the words “FAGGOT PRIEST’ on his ass cheeks, and then they make him copulate with various animals. You will play the role of Father Jim, parish priest turned fuck slut cumdump.”
Father Jim reached for the phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Mr. Black smiled.
“Oh, do that, I’d like to share with them the testimony I got from little Aaron Brown.”
Father Jim’s hand hung in the air. His fingers moved up and down ever so slightly as if making a decision for themselves.
“What about Aaron Brown.”
“He’s one of your altar boys.”
“I know what he is,” Father Jim snapped.
“He’s also thirteen. And he says you suck his little brown dick.”
Jim sat straight and still.
“Boys can’t be trusted, you know that. They fantasize.”
Mr. Black smiled and dug into his suit jacket.
“Oh, exactly, I know what you mean, that’s why I had these taken the last time you blew him.”
He threw a pile of photos on the priest’s desk. Father Jim did not even look down.
“Aren’t you going to look at them? The one of you with your face buried in his cute little teenage ass is my favorite. He says you get your tongue way up there, is that true? He says you are an excellent cocksucker, but then, you’ve had lots of practice. There’s Ramey Raimez, Kyle Logan, Tim Jones...shall I continue?”
Father Jim’s handsome face lost some of its hard jock edge. His eyes took on a hallow expression.
“That’s it then. This will kill my mother, you know.”
Mr. Black smiled.
“Not if she doesn’t find out. Jim, this can be our little secret.”
“I don’t have a lot of money.”
“I do. I have no need for money. What I need are film stars. Make my video, and all will be forgiven and forgotten.”
For a moment, Mr. Black thought the priest would leap over his desk and attack him. The handsome young face became red with fury. The large, strong hands formed fists. Mr. Black allowed his mind to slip back to China, allowed his energies to concentrate themselves, and prepared himself for a physical confrontation. It never came. The priest looked suddenly about to cry.
“You want me to let a gang of black boys fuck me?”
“Yes, and I want you wearing your priest’s collar when they do it. And I want them to use you like a toilet and then let whatever pets they can come up with fuck you too. That’s my movie. I have several clients anxious to see it. But of course, it has to be a real priest and a real gang to please them. Cinéma vérité. They’ll be little directorial flourishes we add along the way, like the nigger boys having a spitting contest on your face, taking turns slapping your nuts, you know, we want to leave room for improvisation.”
They sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Mr. Black saw the priest fold. He just kind of crumpled in his chair, all fight gone.
“Two more things, I want two more things too. First, I’ve decided that I want to fuck you. You are much too old for my taste, but seeing as you are a priest, it should be fun. Secondly, that new little blond altar boy you are hitting on, after you nail him, I want to fuck him too.”
Pete Daniels withdrew his tongue from the hustler’s mouth and rolled over. He shut his eyes as the cute eighteen-year-old street boy began to lick his armpits. Pete was distraught, troubled by lots of things, not the least of which was that he was enjoying the sex. He was enjoying the sex with the boys. Not the young ones—that still freaked him out—but he liked the blowjobs and the lickings while cuddling with the older teens. He, an FBI agent, whose wife was not even dead a year and who had two young sons, he was getting off on the mouths on his dick. He found he really enjoyed having his balls sucked. He was also troubled because he was getting a real reputation in the gay circles as a player and a pervert and a pedo, but he was not any closer to Mr. Black or his organization.
Pete was also troubled because he had not seen his sons in weeks. Their grandmother was taking care of them while he was on this case. He saw his young sons’ faces, such innocent, fresh-faced youth. It was boys like his that he was protecting by taking this case and doing these things, things never taught to an agent at the headquarters in Virginia. He saw the clever, somewhat cocky face of his older son, that mischievous smile, and then he felt his dick give a lurch. The hustler, what was his name, was sucking on his big prick again. The hustler looked up at Pete from between the agent’s strong legs while his tongue was taking swipes at the leaking dick stalk.
“Man, you’re fucking hot. Why the fuck do you pay for it, man? You could pick up any guy.”
“Karl, you’re very kind. I’m actually very shy and don’t meet people easily. Oh…shit…it feels good when you lick my pisshole like that.”
Pete was not acting. It did feel fucking good.
Karl had a mop of very curly dirty blond hair. He was one of those pretty street boys, half-beautiful, half-tough punk. Pete had heard he might have a lead to Mr. Black, so he was pursuing it. Karl also had a very thick nine-inch dick. He pulled himself up along Pete’s naked torso until he could kiss him on the lips again. He pressed his eighteen-year-old throbbing prick against the agent’s own leaking cock.
“You know, I really dig you. I’d love to see more of you. I mean…if you wouldn’t mind dating a hustler. I’m not going to charge you or anything. I really like you.”
“I really like you too, Karl. Tell me about yourself, about your past.”
Karl smiled his hundred-dollar smile.
“I’ll tell you about myself if you do something for me. Suck my dick.”
“I don’t do that, Karl, I’m sorry.”
“That’s exactly why I want you to do it for me. I want to be special to you. I want to feel special. Please just suck it a little. It won’t hurt you. I’ve already sucked you off three times. I’ve got a tummy full of your babies. (Pete saw his kids in their underpants.) I got a real nice dick. Chicks and guys both freak out over it all the time, so just suck it a little for me, please. Make me feel like somebody, not just another fuckhole.”
It was to get the story of the boy’s past, that’s what Pete told himself. That and because he felt sorry for the kid, but did he really want to taste the big fat sloppy fuck slab? In his mind, Pete saw the thick, nine-inch cock fucking in and out of women’s pussies and men’s asses and something about that fascinated him. Of course, he had to lie to himself to protect his self-image. He reached down and held the thick spongy fuck sausage in his hand.
“Do you fuck a lot?”
“When I’m working, shit yeah, four or five times a day usually. Lots of guys love to get pussy stretched by my slammer. In my private life…well…I got this girlfriend…kind of…and I usually fuck her every day. And then there’s this Latino bartender I have this huge crush on, and I fuck him, sometimes, though he usually fucks my ass.”
Pete crawled down on the single bed to examine the large wet penis closer. It was a beauty all right, one of those that gets really hard, but stays spongy at the same time, all thick and drooling and fucky.
“I’ll bet your girlfriend loves this cock, huh?”
“She writes fucking poetry to it. Honest to God.”
Pete made himself do it—for the case, for boys like his own sons everywhere. He made himself kiss the dick shaft. His straight FBI lips touched the sticky prick flesh. He had not tasted cock since his school days, and then it was only a wild experimentation kind of thing. He had a four-month fling with this other schoolboy. Pete had thought he was in love, but his fear of being gay drove them apart.
The dick shaft did not taste bad. He did not care for the cock slime, but it was actually no worse than pussy juice. He used to pussy suck his wife on occasion to encourage her to suck dick, but she was pretty grossed out by the idea and would not do it.
“Oh, man…that’s great. Oh, Pete…I really love that. Oh, man...”
The kid was bucking his slender hips, bouncing his hot young hustler ass cheeks on the bed, arching up, thrusting his fat prick into the face of Pete Daniels. Dick slime coated the agent’s face. Pete felt his own dick spurt pre-cum, and he licked the kid’s prick earnestly.
”Tell me how you got into this business,” Pete managed between dick licks.
“This motherfucker came to my school and said he was a photographer for some big magazine. Had all the credentials and everything, so the nuns believed him. He got me modeling for him wearing fewer and fewer clothes. You know, teenage underpants ads for catalogs and stuff. He gave me drugs, and I loved them. I was never a very good student anyway, so I began to go to school less and less and spend more and more time stoned with this guy. He was a real good-looking dude. Well, one thing led to another. While I was high, he sucked my dick, and then I sucked his dick. Then he fucked my ass.”
Pete had the kid’s huge dickhead in his mouth now, and it was spitting out wads of pre-fuck, coating the agent’s tongue and gums.
“How old were you?” Pete asked between sucks.
“Fourteen. Then I wanted to stop. I told the man I wanted to be straight, not gay. Well, I couldn’t stop he said, ‘cause he had all these nasty photos of me, and besides, by then he had me hooked on coke. That’s when the sick stuff started. He made me do fuck films with big black guys, with deformed midgets, with animals even. He was a real piece of work, this guy. I had huge dildos shoved up my ass. I had guys piss up my nose. Big strong boxers used me for a teenage punching bag. They hung weights from my balls until I thought my nuts would be ripped from the sack. They made me squat and then fuck myself on bottles. He filmed big fat guys shitting in my mouth. It was...it was...”
Suddenly, Karl twisted away and buried his face in the pillow. Pete could tell from the sobs that the kid was really broken up.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. I just wanted to know. Who was this freak anyway?”
Karl turned his cute tear-streaked face toward Pete.
“Mr. Black. His name is Mr. Black.”
“Oh, God...dear God in Heaven, help me...” Father Jim screamed, bare-ass naked except for his collar, as two teenage black boys with ten-inch dicks fucked the priest’s asshole at the same time.
“Come on, motherfucker, bounce on those dicks, man, or its some more electric cattle prod for your useless white balls.”
A naked slender but hard-muscled black teen of about seventeen walked into the picture. He had some mean homemade tattoos on his chest and arms. His eleven-inch prick was running slop. He yanked Father Jim by the hair and forced the priest’s mouth open.
“Take a drink, motherfucker. This is my motherfucking cum,” he said and shoved his cock as far down the poor man’s throat as he could.
Mr. Black smiled. Fifteen black boys and Father Jim. These boys were wonderful at adlibbing. In addition to the regular gang fucks Father Jim had received, they had already stretched his sore asshole with pliers, hung boots from his balls, played pink belly, whipped his ass with belts, and pissed down his throat. Some of the best shots had been watching the athletic priest crawl bare-assed from boy to boy and lick their feet while he had a broom handle up his ass. The priest was pretty much out of it by now. His eyes rolled wildly in his head as he burped and farted cum. Not one teen nigger less than nine inches and all of them mean as hell.
In one bizarre but stunning scene, they even shoved the Priest’s rosary up his ass and then roughly yanked it out a couple of beads at a time, the young clergyman screaming bloody murder. Mr. Black wanted some scenes of ball torture, and then they could move on to the shit eating and finally the dog fucking.
After all, Mr. Black pondered, it served the motherfucking priest right for preying on innocent altar boys, sucking the dicks of the young boys who trusted him and the church, sticking his fingers down the jeans of teenage boys and feeling their ass cheeks and their tight moist assholes, telling the boys of his church to trust him as he worked one finger up into the fresh pink boy rectum.
“Be nice to Father Jim, and Jesus will love you,” he had told the boys while he finger fucked them, turning their little asses into cunts.
“Let’s undress you and see your pretty little boy balls,” he had said, and he had stripped the frightened kids and licked their hairless scrotums while he forced more fingers up their ass-pussies.
No, the man clearly deserved what he got, even if it turned out to be fifteen nigger dicks and twelve dogs.
And from now on, Mr. Black would get his proper share of little altar boy ass.
Thirteen-year-old Raj, the Forty-Second Street hustler, knelt on the bed, thrusting up his small round buttocks at the camera while Pete Daniels took photos of the boy’s asshole and smooth hairless balls. The boy rested his shoulders on the mattress so that he could reach back and spread his ass cheeks wider to reveal the pink inner rectum that contrasted so nicely with his bronze skin. Then the boy edged a finger into the ass pucker itself and then pulled, stretching the fuckhole to its full potential.
“How’s that,” the boy asked, “can you get a good shot now?”
“Yes, that’s fine, Raj. You’re doing very well.”
This was not something that Pete Daniels enjoyed. This was not something that his FBI training had prepared him for. He did not want to take pornographic pictures of a thirteen-year-old boy, but he had little choice.
“You could wait around for years to run into one of Mr. Black’s organizations,” his superior Robert Hagen had said over the phone. “We’re not getting anywhere by you picking up street kids and fucking them, so unless you want to go on screwing little boys on FBI time, we need another approach.”
“Like what? This was your idea. ‘Make contacts,’ you said. ‘Get known as a pedophile.’ Well, that’s what I’ve done, and let me tell you it’s pretty disgusting. I feel like I should shower about ten times a day, so it wasn’t my idea to begin with.”
“Okay, okay, calm down. Jesus, don’t let this case get to you. Now, we figure Mr. Black has to want to see you since he doesn’t just take anyone into his inner circle. Pedophiles need lots of money and contacts to get into his click. Well, you’re spending taxpayers’ money like it was water, so that’s not an issue. We figure that if you sell photos and videos of young boys having sex and stuff, it might get you noticed, so we need you to take some filthy photos of some little boys and then pass them around. Try to sell them.”
Pete was miffed.
“You want me to become a pornographer? Who will defend me when all this comes out? Besides, where would I get the kids?”
Bob Hagen held his breath for a moment before the next statement.
“What about your sons?”
Pete could not believe what he had just heard.
“Did you say what I think you just said?”
“Now, before you blow a gasket, just listen to reason. You know your sons. They trust you. You know why you’re doing this, so it’s not like some sleazy deal you would work up with a kid from the streets. Your sons are the right ages, nine and eleven. Some nice shots of them in their underpants, then bare-assed rolling around on the floor, wrestling, innocent enough stuff, but it might work, at least for a start.”
“Bob, you know I’m loyal to the FBI, and want to stop this asshole as much as the next guy, but if you ever mention my boys again in reference to this case, I swear to God I will walk out. You leave my boys out of it.”
“I was just trying to make it easier on you. I thought—”
“Well, think of something else.”
“Then you’re going to use one of the little whores you been picking up. Get the kid to pose for you. Make the shots as dirty as you can.”
So that was how cute little Raj ended up posing for Pete Daniels.
“All right, that’s great, now turn over on your back and raise and spread your legs. I want some shots of your cock and balls.”
The lithe brown body squirmed on the bed. Raj smiled at the camera as he spread his satin-soft thighs, and his plump hairless balls rolled around as the teen dick slapped his belly. Pete snapped some shots.
“I like being with you. You’re fun, you have an awesome cock, and you’re nice to me. I don’t even care about the money.”
The kid frigged his dick until it drooled so Pete could get some spooge shots.
“I’ll bet your uncle would care if you didn’t bring home the money.”
“Yeah, he’d put my dick and balls into the waffle maker again. Besides, he’s not my real uncle anyway. He’s some distant cousin or something. And he’s got this really small dick. You’re my best fuck so far. You’re my favorite boyfriend.”
“I’m just a customer, Raj. Besides, what does a thirteen-year-old kid know anyway?”
“Hey, I’m only thirteen, but I’ve been fucked over three hundred times. I know a good cock when I find one.”
The boy jumped up and grabbed Pete’s throbbing hard-on. Pete was just not sure why he was hard, but he found himself terribly aroused around these hustlers he had been picking up. Pete had to admit that the kid was an excellent cocksucker. He had never had his dick sucked so well. The teenager’s mouth was like a fucking vacuum for Christ’s sake.
Raj slid his full boy lips over the big purple head of the FBI agent’s prick. Pete aimed the camera down and took some shots of his cock in the boy’s mouth. Raj looked up at the camera and winked while he sucked cock. His big Indian eyes flashed. He had a way of tonguing the pisshole while he sucked the dick stalk that really drove Pete crazy. Unfortunately, every once in a while, Pete would see his sons’ faces, and he would imagine it was one of his own dear boys with a big fat leaking prick in his mouth. Then he would feel really depressed, and his dick would go limp. This case was getting to him, and he had not even made contact with the enemy yet.
“Wi yoo pith in mhaaaa maoooooo?” the teenage hustler asked, his face stuffed with cock.
“I can’t understand you with your mouth full.”
Pete had the boy by the ears, face fucking him. He could not help himself. It felt so fucking good. The teenager let the prick slip out, and it slapped him in the face, spraying pre-fuck all over the kid’s cute cheeks and nose.
“I said, ‘Will you piss in my mouth?’ ”
Pete’s big dick throbbed and squirted fuck lube.
“I told you before I don’t do that. I think that’s really sick. How can you like that?’
The boy pouted an adorable teenage pout.
“I didn’t use to. I used to hate it, but so many customers love pissing in a kid’s face that I got used to it. And I wanna do it special for you ‘cause I really like you. I think I got a crush on you.”
Pete shook his head as the kid licked at his dick stalk then lowered his mouth to suck on one giant nut.
“You have a crush on me, so you want me to take a piss in your mouth?”
“Yeah...” the boy grinned. “I want you to aim your big fucking hose right at my mouth and let ‘er rip!”
“You’re really something, Raj. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“You got a crush on me too. I can tell.”
Well, Pete did not, of course, but the kid was a real pro at ball sucking. Pete was straight, and this was all done in the name of the investigation to catch Mr. Black.
“I still don’t think I can piss in your mouth.”
“But think of the hot picture it will make for your collection. You can hold your dick back a ways, so it splashes pee all over my face.”
True, much as Pete hated to do it, it would make a really hot photo for pedophiles to look at, and it might increase his chances of making a connection. He would have to try. The thought of pissing on the kid caused his dick to quiver and explode. Ropes of cum shot from the dick hole and splashed all over the ball sucking teen’s forehead. Cum ran down his cute young face. Cum dripped into his scrotum-licking mouth.
“Oh…fuck!” Pete shouted, rubbing his shooting dick across the boy’s face.
Spooge shot into the boy’s hair, clogged his ears, squirted up his nose holes, and he laughed and laughed. This customer had a crush him all right. Maybe, at last, Raj had found someone who would take care of him. Pete reached for the camera.
Across the world, in Bangkok, Thailand, Mr. Black lounged in a ratty chair in the messy lobby of the Orchid Hotel off Suriwong Road near Patpong, the world’s most famous sex street. Mr. Black was blond now, and the light hair looked sexy and somehow cruel against his tan skin. It gave him a slightly otherworldly appearance. Mr. Black changed his appearance frequently. In his profession, you had to. He used the Orchid Hotel to make sex contacts and to pick up new boys for his films. It was a seedy rent by the hour spot, and boys brought their farang or foreign tricks there for a quick wham bang.
Mr. Black had been up in the north in Khun Yuam near the Burmese border, checking on his poppy fields. He only used the drug business to grease the dick of his real love—pornography. He was in the Orchid Hotel on this night, however, for another reason that was part business, part pleasure.
He had come down from his room after getting things ready, and now he sat in the lobby, only half watching Mueng Thai (Thai boxing) waiting for the night shift manager to come on duty. He knew it would be soon because one of his thugs had just delivered the photos of the boy’s fiancée getting dicked.
It was not Mr. Black’s fault. He had been very polite. Told the cute twenty-year-old hotel clerk that he thought he was very handsome, “roop law,” and that he wanted to fuck his sweet young ass. The young man had been very polite, but nonetheless, he had refused. He was straight, you see, and engaged to be married in just a few weeks. Well, Mr. Black is not a man to take no for an answer.
In one corner of the lobby, a fat old man mauled the dick and balls of a fifteen-year-old Thai boy. In another, a young American soldier was feeling the ass of a boy of about fourteen. It was a typical Patpong night. The handsome desk clerk arrived, and Mr. Black moved up to the counter. The clerk’s name was Ekk. He was about five foot five inches tall, a slender, smooth body, and an oval face with a broad nose with wide flared nostrils, and gorgeous full lips—cocksucker lips.
“Sawadee, Ekk,” Mr. Black said, smiling.
The boy smiled back.
“Goot evening, Mr. Brack. You come tonight, fuck boy?”
Mr. Black, still smiling, shook his head.
“No, I came tonight to see you, Ekk, to show you some pictures my friends took less than an hour ago.”
Mr. Black tossed the photos onto the kid’s desk. Ekk could not believe what he saw. His fiancée, Vita, was naked on her hands and knees, bare breasts hanging down, and she was crying. Another shot of her face with a huge farang cock shooting cum right into her eyes, another of a dick in her mouth, one of her getting ass fucked, and one of a big prick fucking her pussy. Ekk looked up at the farang with an amazed and shocked expression on his face. He could not even speak. His full bottom lip quivered.
“Oh, Ekk, you’ll be happy to know your fiancée was a virgin. She was saving her pussy for you. Of course, it’s too late for that now, but it’s not too late for you to prevent her from getting battered and abused again.”
The young man’s hands gripped the counter. He stared down in mute horror at the photos scattered across the desk. His mouth—such a pretty cocksucking mouth—worked soundlessly.
“Wha…wha…wha...what you do?” he managed to stutter, at last, as his eyes welled up with tears.
“I had your fiancée kidnapped a couple of hours ago, right after you left her. My friends have been fucking her ever since. Now what happens to her next depends on you. My buddies really want to see her fucked by a big dog, but I convinced them to hold off. If you cooperate with me, we can save her further torture.”
The cute Thai kid looked like he was having trouble breathing.
“Prease...no hurt Vita…Prease,” he requested, looking very much like a very little boy suddenly.
“As I say, that depends on you. If you do everything I want, she’ll be returned to you without further harm. If you resist me, it will be doggie fuck time. Can you imagine your sweet little Vita taking canine cock up her whore slit?”
“I do what you want...I do...I do what you want.”
The boy was trembling.
“Well now, that’s the proper Thai attitude—non-confrontational. I gave you three chances, Ekk. Three times I asked you quite politely to let me fuck your ass. Remember? You could have avoided all of this nastiness by showing a little Thai friendliness and spreading those cute tight cheeks of yours. Maybe we’ll get on better now that I’ve had to use a little leverage.”
“I do what you want,” the young man said, looking at the floor, defeated.
“Well then, let’s start by having you take off all your clothes.”
“Not here in robby, prease,”
The kid had broken out in a fear sweat. He looked good enough to eat.
“You see this pager? If I push this little button, Vita gets doggie fucked.”
Ekk unbuttoned his white uniform jacket. He slid it from his strong, well-defined shoulders. Underneath, he wore a tee shirt. With a plaintive look, he peeled the tee shirt up and off and sat at his desk chair bare-chested. His chest was not overly developed but had nice pecs with large pouty nipples. Those nipples would need lots of work. While the boy undressed, Mr. Black made idle conversation.
“I’m surprised you haven’t fucked your fiancée yet. She’s so cute, how could you keep your dick out of her. Oh, I forgot. In Thailand, boys and girls are more formal, aren’t they? Still, she’s probably been sucking cock since she was ten.”
Ekk had kicked off his black dress shoes and peeled off his dark socks. He had typically beautiful Thai feet, very wide with a nice arch. Mr. Black, although not particularly a footman, did admire the feet of young boys and Thai men in general. The hotel clerk stood up on weak legs to undo his trousers.
“Prease?” he begged.
Mr. Black laughed, holding up the pager.
Emitting a little sob, the boy lowered his pants, revealing smooth, strong tan legs, and a groin covered by a small pair of blue bikinis. His dick lump, while not huge, looked very cute. He had a hard little tummy, and the slightest spray of prick hair peeked over the low waistband of the underwear.
“How cute. You dress like a little whore. Do you fuck around with the farang men here at the hotel to make a little extra money?’“
“Prease, sir. I never be wit man. I not do that.”
Mr. Black pouted his sexy lips.
“Well, you’re going to learn tonight. You’re going to learn a lot. Now off with the undies.”
The twenty-year-old Thai behind the counter looked at him with pleading eyes, chest heaving, titties hard. Then as if having made some vital decision, he hooked his thumbs inside his bikinis and then slid then down over his hips and kicked them off. He stood there in the hotel lobby behind his desk, bare-ass naked. He looked at the floor. He could not meet Mr. Black’s eyes.
“You have an adorable dick and balls, Ekk. Not the largest I’ve ever seen, my goodness no, but very cute nonetheless. Now, suppose you get down on your hands and knees and crawl around out from behind your desk.”
To have to crawl out naked in front of other people, this was a humiliation never dreamed of by the poor young Thai boy. How could anyone ask this of him? Even the boy whores of Thailand only undressed in the bedroom. Even the boys who danced naked for a living in the bars and jacked off for customers, immediately wrapped towels around their slender teen loins once they finished with their show. Thais are very shy and proper. Now poor Ekk crawled on the cold stone floor out from around his desk with his back arched, his young ass up in the air, his balls and cock swinging between his legs.
A group of German fags with their fuck toys for the evening just coming into the hotel stopped to watch the sight.
“Kiss my shoes, Ekk,” Mr. Black said quietly.
The Thai boy on the floor hesitated just a second too long for Mr. Black, who was not known for his patience. One Italian leather loafer shot out and caught the poor boy right in the scrotum. Poor naked Ekk rolled on the hard cold floor, hands cupping his wounded balls. His body was wracked with pain, and he breathed in great gulps. Both the Germans and their Thai fucks for the night thought it was hilarious indeed.
“Yah, dat’s da vey to treat da little cunt. Kick him in da balls hart enough, and he vont be making no babies,” one of the Germans bellowed.
“Kiss my shoe,” Mr. Black said again
Ekk crawled over and lavished kisses on both loafers.
“Good, now let’s go to the elevator and up to my room, shall we?”
Mr. Black scooped the photos of Vita getting twat stuffed off the counter and then sauntered to the elevator, Ekk crawling on hands and knees behind him. The young man’s naked ass was very handsome. Very fuckable. The elevator opened, and Mr. Black stepped in. Ekk crawled after. One of the big Germans reached out a hand to stop the door from closing. Mr. Black smiled.
“This elevator is taken.”
“Dere is room for all of us,” the drunken kraut protested.
“I said, ‘This elevator is taken,’ ” Mr. Black repeated very clearly in case the German was hard of hearing.
“Hey, dis is our hotel too. Ve can ride if ve vant.”
The German began to barge into the elevator. His young Thai fuck for the night who could not have been more than twelve sensed Mr. Black’s aura and backed away. Mr. Black grabbed the man’s thick hairy arm in one hand. With the other, he grasped the lug’s shoulder. He twisted, and something snapped very loudly. Then he raised one foot and kicked the tourist out of the car and into a lobby mirror. The others stood in stunned silence.
When they got into his room, Mr. Black locked the door, and then raised the terrified boy to his feet by the armpits.
“Have you ever kissed a man, Ekk?”
“No...no kiss man. Prease...”
Tears ran down his smooth brown cheeks.
“Well, I am going to kiss you now. You will open your mouth wide so I can stick my tongue in. Then you will wash the inside of my mouth with your tongue.”
Mt. Black took the small Thai face in his hands, brushed away a few strands of black hair, and then kissed the full lips. He forced his tongue into the boy’s mouth, and when the kid resisted, the gently nudged him in the nuts. The Thai boy whimpered and opened his mouth. After tongue kissing him, Mr. Black licked all over the kid’s cute face. The boy just whimpered some more. Mr. Black licked up inside Ekk’s nose holes, licked out his ears, licked his eyes, and then forced the kid’s mouth open and gobbed spit into it. Ekk began to gag, but Mr. Black covered the boy’s mouth.
“If you puke up my spit, I swear to God, I’ll crush your nuts!”
The Thai boy swallowed the mucus. Then Mr. Black started to play rough. He dragged the boy into the bathroom by his hair and made him kneel in front of the toilet. Then he shoved the boy’s face into the toilet bowl. The shy young man looked cute like that, kneeling ass up, head in the toilet. While he knelt there, Mr. Black stripped off his own clothes. His big dick hung heavy and thick, swinging like a bat over orange-sized nuts. Mr. Black flipped the boy over, so that the kid was sitting on the floor and bent his handsome face back, so his neck was on the toilet rim.
“Now hold still, open your mouth, and don’t move. Open your mouth wider, fuckface!”
Mr. Black stood legs spread over the Thai boy, holding his big fat fucker in his fingers. He shook it a bit, and then a torrent of piss shot out right into the kid’s face. Ekk twisted up his face and began to gag again. Mr. Black immediately shut off his piss and kicked the boy savagely in the nuts. He loved the feeling of his barefoot making contact with the tender fuck sack.
“Open your fucking mouth, and don’t move. I want to piss into your fucking urinal face.”
The still gagging boy crawled back into his sitting position. Mr. Black straddled him again and continued pissing. This time aiming for the kid’s open mouth. The boy’s pretty mouth filled with piss.
“There we go. See now, that’s not so bad, is it?” Well, swallow it, shitface!”
After he finished pissing, Mr. Black sat down right on the kid’s face, his ass crack right over the boy’s nose and mouth.
“Now, cuntlips, I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen tonight. You will do everything I ask, or your twat gets it good. Now first, I’m going to teach you how to suck cock. Then I’m going to fuck your ass. During this time, I am also going to torture your big nipples.
“After I fuck you, you will lick my shitty cock clean. Then I will take a shit in your mouth, and you will eat my turds. You will do all of this without complaining. After you clean up, I will work on your balls for a few hours until they hang down halfway to your knees, which is going to hurt a lot, probably more than getting fucked, but not more than getting fist fucked, which comes next.
After that, we’ll talk. We’ll talk about how you work for me now, and how I want you to be on the lookout for new stars for my videos. I want you to keep a record of which farangs use this hotel and of the cutest boys as potential performers for me. Also, of Thai rock stars and movie celebrities who bring fuck dates here, so I can blackmail them into working for me. You are going to be my eyes and ears in this hotel, and if you ever slip up, if you disobey me, your girlfriend will be tortured to death. Now just to make sure you understand that I’m not fooling about any of this. I am going to shove the handle of my toothbrush up the pisshole of your dick!”
The young man’s screams could be heard throughout the cheap hotel, but everyone just smiled and went about their fucking business.
Back in the states, Pete sold his porno pics of Raj to a wealthy Long Island pervert, and as the two spoke, the rich old faggot mentioned that he belonged to a really hot network of pedophiles, who had private memberships to the best sex club in the world. He offered to put in a good word for Pete toward membership. A door opened for the FBI agent at last. He was not quite sure what he would tell Raj, who had been staying with him these last few weeks and whom he had been fucking up the ass every night, strictly for the case, of course.
Dr. Deter Ditmann practically lived at his computer. Or perhaps it only seemed that way. The wealthy and highly respected doctor lived in a huge house on Long Island, surrounded by a stone wall and electrified fences. He was on the board of several global concerns, contributed enormous sums of money to various charities as well as the arts, and wrote highly respected medical journals. He was a portly, jolly, well-fed man. He was also one sick cookie.
Dr. Deter had several well-kept secrets. The first was that his father had been the chief medical experimentation officer at Auschwitz for some brief time during the war. He had conducted unspeakable projects in sexual deviation and human conditioning, and little Deter who came to the camp to visit Daddy had watched with fascination. After the war, when Deter’s father had moved to South America, and when young boys available for play and research had become challenging to obtain, the crazed Nazi had used his son. Young Deter had endured his father’s experiments in anal stretching, urethra torture, nipple enlarging, scrotum beating, ass whipping, throat fucking, and more until one day when he was fourteen, and he had had enough. He took a hammer to his father’s skull and did not stop hitting the old man until the Nazi’s head looked like mush.
Deter might have escaped from his father in the flesh, but he could not escape from the sickness his daddy had instilled in him—the disease of loving to watch others suffer, which led to Dr. Deter’s second secret.
I would not call him a child lover exactly...no, more of a child hater, a people hater to be more specific since he did not limit his hideous hobby to children, although they were his favorite. Dr. Deter seldom raped or enjoyed the act of fucking. No, no, that was too mundane for him. He loved to watch others in agony, in states of horrific shock, in mind-bending trauma, so he spent lots of time at his computer, watching and rewatching his favorite experiences.
Dr. Deter took a sip of his favorite red wine and pushed a button. With his other hand, he fondled his thick penis. His dick felt heavy and sensitive today. He would have to take care of that.
The screen came to life to show a naked teenage boy, a slender youthful blond boy of fifteen. His vital statistics appeared at the bottom: Jeremy Cole, fifteen, five-foot-seven-inches tall, one hundred and twenty-five pounds, penis flaccid four inches, penis erect seven inches, (a nice big dick on a slender boy frame always turned Deter on), lives with his father and mother in Peru, Indiana. He is in the tenth grade. He has a girlfriend, but as of now has never fucked. He has been fucked thirty-five times since joining our group. His parents do not know about his sexual activities. The boy was threatened that if he did not cooperate and perform perverted sexual acts, he would be horribly punished.
This was the part Dr. Deter loved. The boy, who by day lived an ordinary life, spent his early evening hours being a tortured, abused fuck toy for a group of wealthy boy predator sadists. Then he would stagger, or in some instances, crawl home to mommy and daddy. Well, the little brat thought he had had enough. He said he could not take it anymore, refusing to sit on a fifteen-inch rubber dildo at a party, and then threatening to tell his parents or the police. Obviously, he needed some severe discipline to keep him in line and with the program.
You know the old story from the book 1984 on how everyone has one special fear. A fear so great it can control and fuck your mind. Well, Jeremy’s fear was snakes, so on this particular video, he is thrown bare-ass naked into a small, well-lit room with two hundred snakes. The boy literally flips out. He screams, claws at the door, sobs, pukes, tries to move to safety, but the snakes drop from the ceiling onto his naked body. He falls onto them, gets twisted up in them. He shits. He pisses. It is delightful. Finally, from the overwhelming terror of it all, he passes out.
The fifteen-year-old boy, who is quite cute incidentally, wakes up to find himself tied down to a medical examination table. Dr. Deter sat there, beating his eleven-inch prick watching with glee as a nine-inch snake is inserted into the hysterical boy’s asshole. Fifteen-year-old boys think they are so grown up, so fucking mature. It’s great to see them reduced to whimpering babies. How beautifully the boy’s big teenage feet curl with agony. How nicely the tendons in the legs tighten.
“Ach, yah, one of my favorites,” the good doctor sighed while pushing another button.
This video was an amusing bit of frivolity called Farm Boy. And this was the film that had gotten him invited to join Mr. Black’s exclusive club. A father had brought in his beautiful eight-year-old son his constipation problems. Well, he had picked the wrong doctor. The doctor worked the boy’s ass with bottles, baseball bats, and giant dildos. He also hooked the boy on drugs to make him cooperative. In Farm Boy, he plays a farm boy slut, who is fucked by horses, pigs and dogs. He is also fucked by eight well-hung farm boys. Dr. Deter did not shoot the film itself. He was not a filmmaker, but he had provided the star and suggested the scenario.
Dr. Deter’s second telephone buzzed. This was a private line he only used for his hobby. His prick drooled and bounced as he swiveled in his chair to pick up the receiver.
“Yah, this is Dr. Christian,” he said, using his code name.
“This is Mr. Black, cut the crap with the stupid code names. I’m a very busy man, what do you want?”
Across the world, in a room in a sleazy hotel in Bangkok on Suriwong Street near Patpong, Mr. Black, naked and erect, sat on the face of a handsome straight twenty-year-old hotel employee. The abused young man had been sucking his ass for over an hour, and whenever his tongue or lips failed to give one hundred percent, Mr. Black would reach down and slap the boy’s scrotum as hard as he could. The poor straight Thai kid had a bottle of Makong whiskey shoved up his asshole. Several times during the evening, Ekk had prayed to die. Several more times, he had thought he surely would die. He was not the victim of a man—no, Mr. Black was a monster. A superhuman being who thrived on pain and destruction.
Mr. Black ground his naked asshole down more on the cute desk clerk’s nose and mouth, and the frightened boy pushed his tongue further up the farang’s rectum, swiping it along the ass lining. He could hardly breathe, and his jaw was almost frozen with fatigue. His lips were swollen, and his tongue was numb. This must stop soon! Mr. Black ran one hand through his now blond, short choppy hair.
“So what the fuck do you want, Doctor?”
Dr. Deter’s dick wilted. He must never piss of Mr. Black. Without Mr. Black’s endless supply of boys, the doctor would have no fun, no life at all.
“Ach, Herr Black, you know I would never disturb your recreation, but I must ask you what to do about the new prospect for your club. He is anxious, and meets, I think, all the criteria.”
“Has his past been checked out by our boys? Are his interests ours? Can he handle the rough stuff?”
Mr. Black reached down, and between two powerfully strong fingers stretched Ekk’s nipple almost three inches up off his chest, pulling the chest skin up with it. He heard the mouth in his ass groan with pain, felt the tongue in his rectum flutter, and watched the young man curl his toes in agony.
“So, what’s this client’s name?”
It was a matter of formality. Mr. Black had so many clients he never remembered who they all were, but you could be sure his security department did. Clients ranging from wealthy businessmen to heads of state. If you were perverse enough and had sufficient money, you could come to Mr. Black. If you crossed him, you ended up dead. Mr. Black, at last, lifted his muscular ass of Ekk’s sweat-slick face. He spun around and sat on the smooth chest of the young hotel worker and began to slowly feed his huge dripping horse cock into the kid’s open mouth. When his dick butted up against resistance, he grabbed the groaning boy by his mop of thick black hair and yanked the face forward, lodging his huge fuck slab in the young man’s throat.
This was the third time Mr. Black face-fucked the boy, and as far as he was concerned, the boy’s mouth was now more pussy than face. He had broken the kid, and it was just a matter of time now before boredom set in. Of course, Mr. Black would get a rise out of the young man when he announced that he would now go and fuck the boy’s fiancée. He would keep them as his playthings right up until the wedding, and he would fuck them both on the wedding night as well. Then if they were lucky, and since there was not much call right now for an Asian fuck couple, they would be let go to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.
Ekk was really a bit too old to make it in the sex video world, at least to the clients who bought Mr. Black’s films. Even eighteen was pushing it unless a boy had some extraordinary skill. Thirteen was about the mid-age range. Oh, now and again, a particular project would involve adults. For example, Mr. Black’s famous Wedding Gift series of movies, which involved a young stud, his new bride, and the boy’s sixteen-year-old brother, had been one of the best sellers ever.
“Eh...the guy’s name is Peter Daniels. He’s from the Midwest. I will fax you his statistics. He’s very wealthy, into young boys, and pretty kinky from what I can tell. I thought he might be good for your club.”
Mr. Black laughed at the over-eager doctor.
“You thought...come on, Deter, you’re getting something out of this, some hot little boy ass no doubt that you can perform your experiments on and you know it, or you wouldn’t worry so much about my welfare. Still, wealthy clients are always welcome if they pass clearance. Okay, have my boys look into the guy and set up a prelim meeting with one of my agents. Now, leave me alone. I’m just about to shoot a load of cum into the throat of a very handsome, very fucked straight Thai kid. And then I am going to go over and fuck the ass and cunt of his cute little fiancée.”
The kid on the bed squirmed. Even though he could not talk with all that dick down his throat, leaking a continuous stream of pre-fuck, still from the boy’s groaning, Mr. Black got the gist of the message.
“Oh, I know, I know. I promised that if you did everything I said that I wouldn’t hurt your precious little cunt fiancée. And I always keep my word, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t fuck her. And I have a feeling that after she gets used to my big fat dick that you’re not going to satisfy her at all with that tiny Thai wiener you’ve got. Honest to God, I don’t know how you Asians procreate at all with those worthless little dicks. Just lay still for a little longer with my dick down your throat. I’ve got one more call to make.”
Mr. Black pushed some buttons. First, he reached a music publishing company, then he was put through to the backroom before the line clicked, and he was with one of his own agents.
“Listen, Rod, see what you can do about that mess in Washington, will you? I mean, Christ, somebody’s got to put restraints on a certain congressman who has dealings with us. I mean for shit’s sake, that young congressional page was found wearing only his dress shirt, lying over a marble column in the rotunda with an American flag up his freshly fucked ass. What if Congressional security hadn’t found him first. I mean, what if it had gotten out into the news media. The kid needed stitches in his asshole, and he couldn’t be fucked for weeks. I got senators and congressmen complaining to me because he was the most popular page. And all because one loose cannon gets drunk and can’t control himself. Now, I think it’s time that congressman was taught a lesson. He’s got a fourteen-year-old son at a private school out East someplace. Let’s get to work and show Daddy what happens when he steps over the line.”
Mr. Black slammed down the phone, arched his back and shot another copious load down the sore throat of the tortured Thai hotel clerk.
“Hello, Pete, this is Dr. Deter. Yes, fine, thank you. Look, I was able to set up a meeting for you with this private pedophile ring I told you about. They have only the best and cater to every taste. Now, in exchange, I’m going to want a very special favor. Those photos you gave me of the young Indian boy are so beautiful. Well, I’m going to want more than photos. I want at least a week with the boy. Want to be able to test his pain threshold. I can’t promise no wear and tear, but I’ll do my best. Besides, if you get into Mr. Black’s club, you’ll be able to get most anything you want. I mean, I wouldn’t even bother with your Indian slut, except that that particular boy reminds me for some reason of a boy I fell in love with when I was young in South America. Maybe its the dark skin and those large round eyes. I don’t know. He looks very like my first true-love fuck. So you give me the boy, and I give you an interview with Mr. Black’s associate.”
It was everything Pete wanted—needed—to break the case. This was his big chance. He looked over at the naked thirteen-year-old Indian boy lying sleeping on the bed next to him. Cum from their last fuck still drooled out of the boy’s beautiful asshole. Maybe it was meant to be that the kid would be a sacrifice to save thousands of children from Mr. Black’s abuse. Maybe, Pete was starting to enjoy his role as boyfucker too much. Maybe Pete Daniels himself was getting fucked up. It was time to kill that asshole Mr. Black and end it all.
Pete Daniels handed thirteen-year-old Raj over to Dr. Deter. It pained him, especially when he thought of some of the perverse things the good doctor might inflict on the boy, but one small sacrifice to save the lives of many boys in the future prompted Pete to swallow his emotions. He had actually become quite attached to the kid.
Of course, he had fucked the small tight ass every day now for several weeks, and I suppose that does build bonds between people, but the FBI agent tried to think of their relationship as emotional, not sexual. He had to fuck the boy, as it was his job. He was straight, even though he had gotten better sex from the street boy than anything his poor dead wife had ever given him. He was straight, pretending to be gay to infiltrate Mr. Black’s organization, and as such—pretending to be gay—he had to go all the way.
He had never expected the emotional attachment to the kid. He actually liked him a lot. He even considered taking him home and adopting him once this mess was sorted out. He imagined Raj having a chance at a normal life, living with him and his sons. Of course, then he would have to stop having the kid suck his dick. That is something else the thirty-year-old FBI agent had never realized. How wonderful a daily blowjob or two felt.
Raj, of course, had protested going with Dr. Deter.
“I don’t like that man. I think he’s evil. Do I gotta go with him for a week?”
Pete had to be very careful about how he played this.
“Of course, you don’t have to. I don’t own you. I’m just a paying customer, but I guess I thought we had something more, something special between us. I mean, you said you wanted to stay with me.”
“I do. You know, I do.”
The boy had such big brown eyes, such soft, smooth chocolate skin, such shiny black hair, such a gorgeous round tight ass.
“Well, Dr. Deter is wealthy and very influential. If you go with him and are really nice to him, he can help arrange for me to buy you away from your uncle.”
Pete, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and a windbreaker, stood with the boy in the living room of Dr. Deter’s mansion on Long Island. Dr. Deter handed Pete a scotch and soda.
“You don’t know how happy this makes me. You see, this boy is the spitting image of my first lover. Of course, he’s a wog, and my lover was Latino, but the face, the eyes, the cocksucker lips are all are exactly the same. Quite remarkable. And you, Mr. Daniels, will be happy to know that I’ve set up a meeting for you with a very important man, a man who can bring you paradise on earth. A real dream maker for those of us with shall we say with Catholic tastes. I use that word, of course, in its true sense, meaning broad and divergent. You’re to go to this address. It’s a church, ergo my little pun, sit in the fifth pew for the service. Someone will approach you.
“And now, shall we uncover the goodies? Young man, why don’t you undress for me and let me get a look at my new little friend?”
Pete clutched the address in his hand. At last, a real connection to Mr. Black. He wanted to run from the house of depravity, but at least, knew he had to be polite. He watched as Raj, the thirteen-year-old street hustler, took off his jacket and then peeled off his t-shirt to reveal his slender brown body.
“Very nice...very nice...very much like my boy...smooth hairless brown skin…young and soft and such a nice flat tummy...and such prominent boy titties...real suckable…great nipples for stretching. Show me your nipples, boy.”
The thirteen-year-old Indian boy stood straight and thrust out his chest, so his sensitive nipples displayed their perkiness. Dr. Deter took one boy tit in each hand and twisted. Raj looked pained and worried but tried to stay calm. He looked over to Pete, who stared at the floor in embarrassment.
“You know my father did some fascinating experiments with boy nipples. For the sake of science, of course, he tried to figure out their purpose. Used hormone injections to give boys tits like young ladies, filling ‘em up with milk so babies could nurse at boy tits. Yes, papa was an innovator. He had quite an extensive collection of nipples. He also had a marvelous collection of American G.I. cocks. All lost at the end of the war. What a shame.
“I’ll never forget—Peter, you will find this amusing—my papa discovered an address in America of a new bride of one of the captured soldiers. It seems they had been married hours before he shipped off. Well, Daddy felt so bad for the poor lonely bride that he shipped her husband’s cock and balls to her, a romantic gesture, yah?”
Dr. Deter indicated for the boy to continue stripping. Raj kicked off his tennis shoes and peeled off his white socks. He had darling thirteen-year-old boy feet, large for his still growing body, perfectly arched, with adorable little boy toes. Dr. Deter moved his head from side to side, studying every inch of the boy body with keen interest. Raj lowered his jeans and kicked them off. He now stood dressed in only a pair of red bikini briefs. Like most boys his age, he preferred boxers, but his uncle knew that the customers liked to see some ass a boy dick bulge. Raj had been taught to thrust his hips forward, so his young teen cock lump looked more prominent than it was.
“Ach...you’re such a naughty boy sticking out your pisser like that—very darling, but very naughty. You know we shall have to punish you. Do you punish him a lot, Peter?”
Pete didn’t know what to say.
“Ugh, ugh, ugh, spare the rod. You know what they say. A boy of twelve or thirteen needs daily punishment, just to keep him well behaved. I’ve always found that punishment centering on the genital or anal area is best since boys of that age are very sensitive and shy about their developing manhood. I have always believed we would have far fewer problems in urban schools if misbehaving teenagers were spanked on their naked scrotums. A ruler or stick works very well. Ten or fifteen whacks on the ball bag would keep those New York street nigger boys in line. Take off your underpants, boy.”
Raj stripped off his red bikinis. His teenage prick and balls plopped out full and fat and youthful.
“Very nice, very nice indeed, turn around boy, show me the ass. Spread the cheeks and show me the pussy.”
Raj, who was used to putting himself on display, obliged the German. He clutched his cute young ass cheeks and pulled, revealing the pink puckered often fucked boy-cunt nestled deep in the crack.
Dr. Deter smiled at the vulgar display.
“Tell me, boy, have you ever had a baseball bat up your cunt?”
Pete turned away.
“Well then, that’s something we have to look forward to, don’t we? I also believe teenage boys should all have their asses stretched. It could be done in school in like a hygiene class or something. Boys lined up bare-assed, getting their rectums opened up good and wide. It would teach them what girls must feel like when they stick their big fat teenage cocks up the twats’ pussies. Yes, indeed, Raj, even though you’re a street slut, I can tell that your little ass-cunt needs extensive stretching. Show me how many fingers you can get up that hole.”
Raj bent his knees a bit, arched his ass out, and shoved four fingers up his asshole for the perverted doctor.
“Hmmm…not bad...not bad, but at thirteen, you should be taking a whole lot more than that. You should be able to endure a double fist fuck at your age. I remember as a boy watching my father working patiently with teenage boys, Jew boys mostly. I remember seeing them sitting in a row, bare-ass naked, legs up and spread, both of their hands planted up to the wrist in their own assholes. It’s truly amazing how elastic the asshole of a boy is, what it can accommodate if one works diligently at it. Of course, you have to ignore the boy’s begging and sobbing. They always think they can’t take anymore, and of course, they can. I think you may leave us now, Pete. Young Raj and I have lots to do.”
Pete hugged the boy goodbye. Raj whispered in his ear to take him out of this place, but Pete was trapped. He was working a case, and this boy was one of the necessary casualties of such a case.
Across the world in Bangkok Thailand, Mr. Black walked up the rickety stairs and into Twilights bar, one of the more notorious fuck bars in the world. It was afternoon now, so activities had not yet begun, but during the evening, twenty or thirty boys stood around the place—on the bar, on stools, on little platforms—bare-ass naked masturbating for the customers, wanking their dripping dicks until someone hopefully rented them for the evening. There were also fuck shows, shower shows, dildo shows, big dick contests, anything and everything the jaded boy-lover could want.
Mr. Black was friends with Khun Soon, the drag queen owner of the bar. Khun Soon was ancient, but still tottered forth nightly in a low cut gown and high heeled shoes. It was her life. Now, in the mid-afternoon, after a late night of fucking and drinking, she appeared from the backroom as a balding portly Thai man dressed in baggy pants and a white shirt.
“Sawadee Khap..Khun Soon, Sabaidee ru Khap?”
Khun Soon leaned in one cheek for Mr. Black to kiss, which he did out of protocol and politeness. Khun Soon’s eyes went beyond Mr. Black’s shoulder to the young man standing behind him. A young Thai man, a very handsome young man, with his head bowed in shame. A man dressed in very tight, very small white shorts and a tank top undershirt, nothing else. His prick and balls could clearly be seen through the thin material of the shorts.
“Who do we have here?” Khun Soon purred.
“This is my new friend Ekk. Ekk is the night clerk at the Orchid Hotel. He is very handsome, is he not?”
“Roop law, roop law mahk mahk,” Khun Soon said, lifting the young man’s chin to get a better look at his classically handsome features.
“Yes, handsome indeed, but we have a slight problem with Ekk. He insists that he’s straight. He says he doesn’t like boys. I have fucked him three times, shot three loads down his throat, pissed on him. Taken a shit in his mouth, stretched his asshole with a whiskey bottle, and I still believe he has yet to see the light. I think he still loves his fiancée.”
Khun Soon brought his face very close to the straight nose with wide nostrils and full lips of the young man.
“You too beautiful to fuck twat. You no want fishy cunt. Fuck nice tight boy ass, much better.”
He spit when he spoke, and spittle covered Ekk’s soft brown face.
Mr. Black put one hand on Ekk’s shoulder. The boy tightened with fear at his touch.
“So I propose that we install young Ekk here in your bar for a few nights, so he can experience the joy and friendship of the gay scene. I want him standing bare-assed on the bar jerking his dick from eight o’clock tonight until closing time at two. Do you hear me Ekk? You will stand naked on the bar so everyone can see you. You will jerk your cock. You will keep it hard from eight until two. If your dick gets soft even once in that time, a nice big Great Dane will visit your fiancée.
“Khun Soon, during that time, you will make a list of all the customers who would like to have Ekk suck their cocks and of all the customers who would like to fuck his straight boy ass. I will return after the bar closes, and we’ll have a little party. I’ll pay for the whole thing. I want at least twenty guys here to fuck the slut.”
“He very handsome. No problem getting twenty farang to fuck him.”
Ekk winced as Khun Soon ran one hand down the boy’s back and cupped his ass cheeks. Khun Soon chuckled at the boy’s reaction.
“Soon, you get used to cock up there, never mind.”
Mr. Black kissed Ekk deeply and then took the boy’s face in his strong hands.
“You be a good little cunt now, learn to respect gay men. I’m going to go fuck your fiancée now, give her some of my nice big dick. I’ll say hello for you and tell her you are doing your best to keep her from getting canine rutted. You will do your best, won’t you? Smile and show those customers your prick and asshole a lot. And remember you will be watched. Do not lose that hard-on!”
Mr. Black whistled, All I Care About is Love on the way down the steps, but he could still hear Ekk sobbing as Khun Soon stripped and fondled him.
Pete Daniels slipped into the rear seat of the long stretch limo with the young college guy. He had watched the youthful priest delivering a sermon, a most unusual sermon on bonding and family and gang values. The priest looked pained and uncomfortable as six black teenagers in the front pew kept making snide remarks all during the sermon, remarks loud enough for the priest but not the congregation to make out. Then this strikingly handsome, muscular college kid had slid in the pew next to him.
“Come with me.”
Pete crawled into the largest limo he had ever seen, only to be further astounded at the sight of two bare-naked college-age boys with collars around their necks kneeling on the floor of the car. One was small with a swimmer’s build. The other was a larger jock with dark hair and well-toned muscles. Jesus, two naked guys, kneeling on the floor of a car. The college boy next to him in the rear seat smiled a winning grin and held out one hand.
“Hi, I’m Jeff Black.”
Pete was even more shocked. How could this twenty-one-year-old kid be Mr. Black?
Jeff laughed and took a glass of champagne from one of the kneeling slaves and handed it to his guest.
“No, I am not the Mr. Black. He’s my uncle. I work for him part-time, and I’m also a senior in college. These boys here on the floor are some frat pledges who never quite made it, did you cunts?” Jeff kicked the blond boy in the nuts. The kid grunted hard but said nothing. “This here is Tommy, and this is Brandon. Would you care for a blow job while we talk?” Setting his glass on the counsel, Jeff unbuttoned his tight jeans and lowered them around his ankles so he could spread his strong young legs. Tommy, sitting at his feet, started to lick up and down Jeff’s fat penis.
“Don’t be shy, I know you like boy sex. If you want to join our little club, you can’t be shy about public sex. We fuck in front of each other all the time.”
Pete lowered his own trousers and shorts, and the dark-haired frat pledge, Brandon, started to lick his huge dickhead.
“Whew...nice piece of fuckmeat there,” Jeff said, looking at Pete’s growing prick. “The little boys must squeal when your pork their cunts.”
The limo pulled out into traffic, and the two men sat getting their dicks sucked while they sipped champagne.
“I’ll be honest with you, Pete. I was sent to size you up to see if you’re the right kind of person to join our group. Because we specialize in child porno and blackmail sex, among other things, and because our videos and private parties are about as kinky as things can get, we have to be very careful whom we allow to join us. We have lots of famous and influential people in our circle, and the slightest slip on our parts could spell disaster. Now, so far, you seem to be our kind of guy. You’ve got the money it takes to move in our circle. Made most of it investing it seems. You like boy ass, we’ve been watching you the past few weeks. You go through young boys like some guys go through fresh bakery. But I need to know more about you personally.”
Jesus, the mouth on his dick was driving him crazy. He was leaking spooge down Brandon’s throat.
“Well, no one ever knew it, but when I was in high school and college, I used to sometimes...eh...fool around with young boys,” Pete said.
Jeff laughed and directed Tommy’s mouth to his big fat scrotum. His dick was like a fucking fist.
“Translates to molest little children, right?”
Pete smiled shyly, carrying on with his well-rehearsed lie.
“Well…yes...I guess I molested little boys.”
“How old were you the first time you fucked boy ass?”
“And how old was the little boy?”
“I...you don’t want to know.”
Pete looked down at the cute guy licking his spit slick prick. The pledge’s total concentration was on the dick as if that’s all he lived for and as if the only thing that mattered in the whole world was giving a good suckjob. Brandon made love to the fleshy ridge behind the cockhead and the pisshole with his tongue. He scooped up the drooling pre-fuck and smacked his lips. When he cock sucked, he made little piggy noises. This fucking great looking college boy was slurping on his cock!
“So, this little boy fucking went on for some time?”
“I…well…yes…I mean…I dated girls too. I fucked girls starting at about sixteen.”
“You got a late start, huh? I fucked my first twat much younger. Of course, you were screwing boy butt.”
“And then in college, I felt really guilty for some reason, so I stuck to the cunt and gave up boys.”
“What a shame. I’m glad you realized the error of your ways. I like girl pussy fine. I fuck around campus all the time, but I’ve never given up boy slut mouth and ass. I figure the entire purpose of life is to shoot off your prick as often as you can in as many different holes, and if in that process you can humiliate and hurt others, so much the better.”
Jeff laughed long and hard at his own joke. He kept kicking Tommy in the balls as if directing him where and how to suck with the kicks.
“So you got married, and you have, let me see, two boys of your own, right?”
Pete felt uneasy at the mention of his sons. He hadn’t expected them to know that. Jeff arched up to shove more dick in his face cunt’s hole.
“You’re fucking worthless, Tommy. We’re going to have to have a nice shit eating session when we get back to the frat house.
“You know, Pete, I think I’ll do these scumbags a favor, get them out for some fresh air and a change of scene, and are they grateful? No. You know, I’m the first to admit, I still have scads to learn from my uncle about training a boy cunt. He makes it look so effortless.” Tommy was scooping the scum from Jeff’s leaking pisshole. “So tell me, Pete, like all good fathers, do you have a picture of your boys in your wallet?”
Pete stiffened more, and not from the mouth on his prick.
“May I see, or do you hoard those little boy twats all for yourself?”
Pete didn’t know what to say or where this was going. He fished out his wallet and opened it. He slid out the recent photo of his two boys and handed it to Jeff. The college senior studied the faces of the smiling little boys.
“Oh, wee. This is some cute cunt, man. Do you fuck them a lot?”
“Well…no…I mean…they’re my sons.”
Pete didn’t know what to do. He felt sick and angry at the same time.
“Duh...yeah, I know they are your sons...a fresh supply of pussy around your own house all the time. Tuck the boys in at night and tuck your dick in their mouths and asses. Oh, and I bet punishment time is great. You didn’t clean your room, my little fresh-faced twat hole, so I’m going to have to fuck your little butt with this wine bottle. Far out, man. You mean to tell me you don’t get any of that fine pink boy poontang?”
“Well...no…I mean…that’s why I want to make contacts. I feel guilty about my feelings about my boys, so I want to...eh...fuck other boys. I...I can’t explain.”
“Feeling too guilty to slam it to your own sons’ asses, I understand. We’ll help you conquer that fear in no time. There is no thrill I hear like fucking your own kids. Of course, I’m too young to know. I have ten or eleven brats out there someplace with their sow hole mothers, but I don’t see them. I can see by the photo here that your younger son has got a perfect cocksucker mouth. You gotta stuff that before he gets too much older.”
Jeff stiffened, looked at the photo of the two boys, and shot his fuck load into Tommy’s gulping throat. Pete unloaded a few seconds later all over Brandon’s face. Then suddenly, before their dicks were even soft, Jeff became deadly serious.
“Let me tell you, Pete. If we accept you, you become part of our family. There is no leaving our family. You’re in for life. If you betray us or talk to the wrong person about us or compromise our security in any way, your boys will pay the price for your stupidity. Know that now before we go any further. Do you understand?”
Pete could hardly speak with his parched mouth.
“I understand,” he croaked.
Pete snapped the lid of the camera closed and heard the film automatically adjust itself. He looked over at his two sons with a very heavy heart. Both boys wore small red bikini underpants on their lithe boyish frames. Other than that, they were naked. Randy, the older boy, had been more challenging to convince.
“Dad, this is not only stupid but embarrassing as heck.” (The boys were not permitted to curse.)
“I know son, but believe me, it’s for a very good cause, and I’ve never steered you wrong before, have I?”
“Yeah…but why do you want bare-assed pictures of us, Dad? I mean, it’s so stupid. Who’s gonna see them, and why?”
Pete gulped, watching his older son scratch his smooth hairless leg with his growing teenage foot.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that right now. I promise I’ll explain everything to you in a few weeks. Right now, you just gotta trust me. That’s all I can say. Trust your dad.”
Ryan was chewing his cute lower lip—the lip Jeff Black had called a ‘natural cocksucker lip.’ Pete felt really sick to his stomach, and the lump in his throat was so large, he found he could not swallow.
“Ah…okay, boys, suppose you crawl up on the bed together for me. This will only take a few minutes, I promise you.”
Earlier that morning, Pete had telephoned his boss Robert Hagen.
“I quit,” he had shouted. “I can’t do this. You are asking too much of me. I know it’s for my country and all, but you can’t ask me to compromise my own children.”
“You made contact?” Bob Hagen sounded thrilled. “That’s wonderful. That’s the first breakthrough we’ve had.”
“Did you hear me, Bob? I said I quit! I want off this case, or I resign from the FBI.”
“Now, now, Pete, calm down. I know this is a stressful business.”
“Fuck your stressful business! The sick motherfucker wants me to take nude photos of my own two sons, in bed together. I almost killed the sick fucker right there in the car.”
“And what would that have accomplished? We’d have lost our only lead to Mr. Black.”
“Bob, I can’t do it. This creep, Mr. Black’s nephew, a fucking college kid, told me it was a test. That they needed some insurance that I wouldn’t ever betray them and photos of my own kids would prove my loyalty. He says if I ever turned on them, they would be released, and I would go to prison as a child pornographer. Bob, this is insane.”
“It’s also ingenious. You see, they get something on all their members. That way, they feel protected. Pete, what is a couple of bare-assed shots for the sake of catching this monster? Someday, your kids will be heroes because of it. Let me ask you this, can we substitute some other kids. Can we put in some little street tramps as you sons or something?”
“No, it’s no good. Jeff Black kept the photo of Ryan and Randy from my wallet. He knows what they look like.”
“Well then, Pete, you’ve just got to go through with this. I know it’s rough, but look at it this way, it’s not going to hurt your boys any. It’s only some photos.”
“All right, boys, look at me.”
Wearing jeans and a tee shirt, Pete climbed up on the bed and pointed the camera down at his two sons, dressed in tight red bikinis. Their little dick lumps showed plainly. The underpants rode well below the little boy hipbones. Their little flat tummies and belly buttons look so cute.
“Smile at the camera. Put your arms up behind your heads so I can see your armpits.”
“Dad, I feel really yucky! I hate this,” Randy was red with embarrassment.
“Randy, aren’t you naked in front of other boys in the showers after soccer games, so think of this as that kind of thing. It’s no big deal. Now spread your legs a little, Ryan put one of your legs over Randy’s. There, that’s good.”
“You get me some fucking hot pictures of your sons bare-assed. And I mean hot. I want a hard-on looking at them. That’s your test. You have to be more devoted to our organization than anything else in the world, even your fuckable little family!” That’s what Jeff Black had said before Pete got out of the limo.
Suddenly Randy reached down and started to tickle his little brother on the stomach. Ryan rolled over on top of Randy, and the two began to wrestle. Ryan’s little ass wiggled as he tried to pin his brother down, but Randy wrapped his longer older legs around Ryan’s slender waist and twisted him to one side. Pete kept shooting pictures.
“You fucker,” Ryan screamed as Randy got a smooth thin arm around his neck in a chokehold, pressing his bikini-clad crotch into his brother’s ass.
“Hey...hey…hey, boy, watch the language. You know I don’t like that.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Ryan mumbled, as both brothers ceased their shenanigans and once again lay still on the bed, side by side, their soft young bodies now coated with a slight sheen of sweat.
“Okay, boys, that’s fine. Now take off your underpants.”
Randy lifted his cute head, his hair falling over one eye.
“Aw, Dad, for gosh sakes, don’t make us do that. Don’t make us be bare in front of a camera.”
Pete lowered the camera.
“Son, I’m really sorry about this. I know it’s difficult for you, especially because even though you are only a year older than your brother, your body is starting to develop. I know you’re particularly shy about your sex organs, but let me say this once more. You’re helping hundreds, maybe thousands of boys by doing this. It’s for a truly wonderful cause. And I’ll explain the whole thing to you in just a few weeks. I promise.”
“Is this to do with work, Dad?” Ryan, the younger, sharper of the two asked, wrinkling up his nose and getting a gleam in his eyes.
“In a way. Let’s just say it’s connected.”
Ryan turned to his brother on the bed beside him. Both boys had beautiful faces, and you could tell by the tilt of the nose and the full pouty lips that they were brothers.
“See, dummy, I told you Dad wasn’t really a stockbroker. You’re an international spy like James Bond or something, aren’t you, Dad? Come on, tell us.”
The boy’s high clear voice was musical, and Pete found his eyes tearing up.
“The less said right now, the better. Let’s just say you are helping in something very important.”
“Come on, sissy, let’s help Dad,” Ryan said.
Lifting his cute little ass, Ryan slipped the red bikinis down to his ankles, from where he sent them flying across the room. His naked young body was angelic in its pale perfection. His tiny circumcised dick bounced and bobbed when he moved. Pete could not take his eyes off his son’s sex organ.
“I’m not a sissy!” Randy shouted.
Randy peeled down his own underpants. His body was just changing into a harder, leaner teenage boy look. He had the start of a tiny prick bush, and his balls had just fallen. The bag was smooth and hairless, the nuts rolled around as the boy squirmed on the bed.
Both boys looked at each other’s cocks. Randy laughed at his younger brother’s prick.
“Is that a dick, Ryan, or a tootsie roll?”
“Shut up, fuckface,” the younger boy screamed and grabbed for his older brother’s cock. Instead, he got a handful of nuts, and Randy squealed in pain.
‘Oh…Jesus...oh…no...please…God…no,’ Pete thought, snapping pictures of his naked sons and realizing that he was getting a fucking throbbing hard-on. ‘I can’t get hard over my sons. I can’t get hard over my own sons. Oh…fuck…no!’
But he was. He did. His huge thick slab of fuckmeat started to snake its way down the right leg of his jeans. He had to keep control
“Okay, boys, now spread your legs wide and raise them a little. Smile at the camera.”
“Dad, what if anybody ever saw these? I’d rather be dead.”
“No one’s ever going to see them, Randy. Don’t you worry.”
Stupid, hey, I mean, if no one’s going to see them, why shoot them?
“I’m gonna steal them from Dad and post them all over the locker room after soccer practice.”
Ryan giggled, and another bout of wrestling, this time bare-assed, broke out. Pete took snaps of his sons naked, rolling around on the bed. Randy wrapped his strong soccer boy legs around Ryan’s neck, and the younger boy found his face pressed right into his brother’s ass crack. Randy’s balls and dick were all over the little boy’s face. Pete squatted down, his drooling prick threatening to burst from his jeans, a huge dark stain on one leg where the pisshole spurted spooge. Jeff Black ought to love these shots. Ryan tried to scream, but his face was buried between his brother’s legs, high up at the ass, his nose actually in the ass crack. Randy had rolled over so that he was kind of sitting on his brother’s face.
“Eat my ass, pussy,” Randy shouted, grinding his ass down on his brother’s cute little snout.
Pete dropped the camera. One hand snapped out and caught his oldest boy behind the neck, and he yanked the boy off of Ryan. His dick was about to explode. Pre-cum coated one hairy thigh and soaked the jeans. He held the boy’s suddenly terrified face in two hands.
“Where the fuck did you learn language like that? Where did you learn crap like that? Answer me!”
He shook the boy. Neither Daniels lad had ever seen their usually gentle father so worked up. The naked boy in his grip started to cry.
“I’m sorry, Dad. In school, I learned it at school, I guess. Guys in the locker room are always talking about making girls suck their dicks and eat out their asses.”
Pete looked down into the beautiful frightened face of his beloved son.
“At your age, they talk that way at your age?”
“Dad, four of the boys in my class have already fucked girls.”
‘What’s this world coming to? What’s happening to this world?’ Peter thought.
Pete loosened his grip, and the bare-assed boy fell back onto the bed next to his sober-faced brother.
“It’s okay, man,” Ryan said, putting an arm around his older sibling’s naked shoulder.
“Okay, boys, that’s enough. Get dressed.”
Pete sobbed, climbing off the bed. The boys watched their dad stumbled out of the room, camera in hand, one leg of his worn tight blue jeans soaked through with dick slop. When he had gone, Ryan turned to Randy in bed.
“Jesus, Randy, what the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t know, bro, but we gotta help Dad as much as we can. He’s obviously under some major shit stress. I’m starting to think you’re right. Maybe he is a spy, and these photos he took are to help him uncover a major sex ring or something.”
“Kewl,” Ryan said, his hand cupping his soft young genitals and squeezing.
“Not so kewl. I think it’s somehow getting to Dad. I mean, did you see the fucking boner going halfway down to his knee?”
Thirteen-year-old Raj knew he had to escape from Dr. Deter Ditmann’s mansion on Long Island. Raj had cried all night, not so much because the sicko doctor had fucked his tiny Indian ass. Shit, he was used to that, but because he had been betrayed by Pete Daniels, a man he had trusted and come almost to love. Fuck, they were all the same, men, only interested in one thing. Making young boys suffer.
Raj had been sold by his own father to an uncle in America when he was six. He had been shipped in a crate like an animal. He barely remembered his mother’s sweet face anymore, but at night when he closed his eyes and hugged himself, he still recalled her loving touch.
Raj’s uncle, his real uncle, had kept the boy around for a while, thinking he would grow to be able to help him in the Indian grocery store, and life was okay. But then, when Raj was ten, his uncle got into deep shit gambling with a cousin, and instead of money, the cousin wanted Raj. That was when the sexual abuse started.
The boy’s only friends were other street kids and hustlers. Still, he was a sharp boy and read with interest every sign, ad, announcement in the windows along Eighth Avenue, and that was how he learned. He listened too. To cops and pimps, and some of the nice black whores he had met. He learned the art of survival. And he knew as sure as his name was Raj, that someday, he would kill his cousin. Every time he was getting fucked in the ass by some fat, greasy, dirty perverted tourist, every time he had to wrap his small sensitive boy lips around a thick drooling dick, he thought about killing his cousin, and that got him through it.
And now he knew he had to get out of this house. Dr. Deter was a fucking Nazi freak. He had made the boy sit on his lap to watch videos. Raj had been forced to snuggle up against the man’s cold, clammy dead-like flesh. He had been told to hold and gently pump the fat, veined German prick while Dr. Deter inserted fingers up the boy’s tender asshole. Three, then four thick stubby German fingers forced up the thirteen-year-old boy’s ass pucker. The fingers fucked in and out as Raj pumped the drooling dick as pre-cum poured over his small brown hand.
“Lick your fingers, honey. Lick up all the nice schwantz goo. Got lots of nice goo for you, jars of it refrigerated and preserved. Boy goo, man goo, doggie goo, horse goo, goat goo.” the Nazi laughed. “I’ve always wanted to see if a boy could survive on eating only cum. Of course, it gets so boring watching a boy drink sperm from a jar, so sometimes I will inject it up your beautiful young asshole, then, when your tummy is bloated with cum, you will squat and shit it out and then lick it up. That will be fun. Yah!”
Some fun! They watched videos. Videos of some of Dr. Deter’s previous houseguests, a sixteen-year-old boy who had his cock and balls lowered into a tank of baby alligators. Two fifteen-year-olds shut into a freezer and told to fuck to keep warm. A pathetic-looking eighteen-year-old skinhead street hustler with the words ‘FAGGOT’ tattooed across his chest and “FUCKHOLE” on his ass cheeks, walking naked through a mall, with hundreds of people laughing at him and pointing, and then shots of him being arrested. Then more shots of him in the police van, being fucked in the ass and mouth by six cops. Then a close-up of him crying with the word’s ‘cop twat’ tattooed on his shaved head.
“Of course, these are only a few of my own modest efforts. My own films don’t come anywhere near the quality and gut-wrenching emotion of those of Mr. Black, but I’ll show them to you in days to come for your enjoyment.”
The thick fingers plowed rapidly in and out of the boy’s stretched ass-cunt, as he laughed.
“But I know boys your age. All this play has given you an itchy pussy, hasn’t it? Boys your age walk around half the day with itchy pussies. I bet you really need to be fucked now, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes, sir, I need my hot horny boy-twat fucked by your big beautiful dick.” Raj lied. He had been taught well by his cousin in months of painful training. “Fuck me. Fuck me, please. I can’t wait. My pussy needs your dick!”
“Yes, of course, I understand. Nasty little fuckboy. Little thirteen-year-old cock slut. Yah, all squirmy and sweaty for Dr. Deter’s peter, is that it. You pathetic little whore you. What, haven’t you been cunt fucked in two hours, is that it? Pussy itch driving you crazy?
“Well, Dr. Deter to the rescue. Just spread your cunt lips and sit right down on this big old pecker. That should make you feel good in no time. Get rid of that nasty pussy itch. You are a tight little wog. I’d have thought that fucked out ass of yours would be as loose as a frat fucked cantaloupe, but it’s nice and tight. You have good cuntal muscle control.
“That’s my little whore. You look so much like my first lover. That’s right, slide your pussy down around my prick pole. Do you feel my big dick in your little guts, huh? Huh? You dirty little piece of Indian filth. You teenage twat hole! I’m going to feed you nothing but fuck slop for a week. Feel that dick churning up your insides, ride that dick. Ride it, whore!”
Balls bouncing and dick flopping, thirteen-year-old Raj rode the fat German cock. Being called filthy names no longer bothered the boy. The pain in his ass no longer disturbed him. He felt the dickhead poking around in his lower intestines. Still, he gritted his teeth and pushed harder. He knew he had to get the cock balls deep, or the customer would not be satisfied. His cousin had taught him that. Always fuck balls deep no matter how big the dick is. Raj let out a grunt and a hoarse groan as the cock knob penetrated him still deeper, then he felt the scrotum against his ass. Good. Now the fucking would begin, and soon it would be over.
Dr. Deter fucked the boy for forty-five minutes, pausing only when his leaking German prick came too near orgasm. And after he finally sprayed the boy’s guts with cum and pulled out and made the kid lick his fat, dirty dick clean, he shoved a huge dildo up the ass of the Indian boy and told him he would have to keep that in him as long as he was in the house.
“You may remove it, young man, only to poop and get fucked. And you have to ask permission to piss and poop, so I can watch. I love to watch teenage boys poop. Tell me, boy, have you ever eaten shit?”
“No, sir,” Raj lied again since his cousin, who knew the broad spectrum of tastes sexual clients had, made sure Raj’s training was thorough and complete.
So, you see, Raj had to get out of the house and away from this sadistic, crazy Nazi. He took the only course available to him. He clobbered the old man with a lamp base while the cruelly sadistic doctor slept, splattering blood on the pillow. The German doctor had hurt his last boy. Raj removed the chain from around the fat blotchy neck of the dead doctor, taking the key to unlocked the manacle from around his ankle. Then he got dressed.
Raj printed out copies of lots of porno he found on the computer. He scattered these around the dead body so anybody finding the monster would know the cause of his death. Then he cleverly downloaded porno crap from the computer and slipped the floppy discs into his pocket. He might have use for them. Then he turned out all the lights and left the mansion. He barely beat the huge guard dogs to the high wall, but he was able to scurry over it. His small brown body was able to leap the electrical fencing atop the wall. He was temporarily free. Now to find the man who had sold him to Dr. Deter. The man he had come to love. The man who would pay for his betrayal.
They were in a Starbucks, sipping coffee and looking at the snapshots of Pete’s bare-assed sons. Pete couldn’t even drink the coffee. Jeff looked like a typical college kid today, wearing tan cargo pants and a pullover sweatshirt with a hood. He also wore a baseball cap.
“Cute. Very cute. My dick is throbbing. I’d like to ram it up either one of those little asses. I’d fuck them until they oinked like the little piggies they are.”
“Please, they’re still my sons...”
“Do you know how many men in our club pork their own teen brats? How else is a normal healthy teenage boy going to learn about the pleasures of getting fucked up the shit chute? Your sons look like real smartasses. I’d love to slap them around a bit. But bottom line, my new friend, these photos are not acceptable. I’m afraid it’s back to the drawing board.”
“What the fuck do you mean? I trusted you. You said it was a test, and if I did this, you would accept me into the club.”
“Frustrating, isn’t it? I know. Your big hairy prick is probably pulsing like hell to get into some young fresh boy ass, but it’s worth the wait, believe me. Mr. Black doesn’t deal in ordinary street trash. The boys you fuck at our club are wholesome, healthy boys. Muscular jocks, slender pussy boys, you name it.
“And the shows, oh, man, the shows, freaking fantastic. How’d you like to see a small thirteen-year-old boy cunt, like one of your boys, take on six enormously hung, black as coal niggers? You like rough stuff. We got it. Boy ass whipping, dildo fucking, scrotum beating to your heart’s content. Oh, man, the look on a teenager’s face when he realizes he’s about to get his balls battered for the first time in his life.
“You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a young boy make it with a chimpanzee, two fucking little monkeys rutting up a storm.
“You ever try Asian ass? We got the best, man, the very best. Asian boy endurance contests are my favorite. Which teenage chink can take the most pain? We make bets on the boys.
“Pete, baby, we got it all, so you understand why security is so tight. Mr. Black has issued special orders that we have to check and double-check any dude wanting in.”
“So?” Pete asked, his mind reeling from what he had just heard.
“So you set up your camera on a tripod and then strip and climb into bed with your two boys. Get us some nice shots of the three of you. That way, you see, we have some insurance. We need you in the pictures.”
“Jesus H. Christ! I can’t do that!”
Jeff Black threw down a twenty for the coffee and got up.
“See you around, man.”
Pete knew he could not blow the case now. They might never get another chance like this. Jeff sat, his eyes calm, clear, handsome.
“Isn’t there some other way?”
“Afraid not, man. I know it’s hard, but think of the benefits.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
Pete took a long gulp of his coffee.
“Way to go, man. You won’t regret this, I promise you. Now, get some shots of the boys with their hands on your cock. And make sure to have a hard-on. We don’t want anybody mistaking these for art shots. Not that anyone will ever see them just as long as you are loyal to our organization. Oh, and get some shots of the boys’ assholes. You don’t have any. Oh, yeah, and while it’s not required, as a personal favor to me, I’d love a photo of the young one taking a shit for my private collection.
It was probably then that Pete Daniels swore to himself that rather than turn in Mr. Black, he would simply strangle him with his bare hands. And his nephew too!
The man was crazy!
“Bha,” they called it in Thai. “Jing Jing” for sure. Crazy and now Boi had gotten himself into a mess of trouble and might end up dead. What had he done wrong, really? What should he have done differently? He brought farang’s out here to Ayutthaya often before, sometimes two or three times a week. Tourists loved the ruins of the ancient capital of Thailand, so majestic, so mysterious, and so beautiful in their vine and moss-covered shambles. Huge two-story-high faces of Buddha looked down on mere mortals picking their way through the rubble.
The farang had suggested a picnic, so Boi had prepared a basket with some pork ribs, chicken, rice salad, fruit, and wine. It was part of his tourist guide service that often got him a fine tip, but on this particular occasion, it turned out that Boi himself was to be the lunch.
Boi was twenty years old, rather tall for a Thai, muscular, and handsome with a long shock of black hair that fell over one eye. He had a quick, easy smile and a charming personality. He was married one year, and he ran his uncle’s tourist business. Mr. Black had not talked to him for more than five minutes when he decided he had to have his cock up the young man’s ass. Mr. Black was like that. He would see something off-limits and immediately want it. Some grocery clerk or high school jock or usher in a movie theatre.
Boi was very polite and proud of his new Ranger. He kept it polished even in the dusty summers around Ayutthaya. Sometimes he had to wash it three or four times a day. His wife teased him that the finish would wear off the car. Mr. Black had ridden up front with Boi, and the young Thai had thought nothing of it when the farang had put a hand on his knee. Thais are very open physically with other men.
It wasn’t until after they had toured the ruins and Mr. Black had meditated in the shadow of a great stone face, fingering his mala prayer beads that he had made his first pass at the young man. While standing looking up at one of the chedi spires of stone, ancient burial mounds, Boi had felt Mr. Black’s hands on his ass. At first, he thought it merely an accident, but then he felt the man’s fingers squeezing and kneading his ass cheeks, so he moved away a bit, too polite to say anything. Mr. Black did adore how non-confrontational Thais are.
It had been difficult for Mr. Black to judge the boy’s ass in those baggy black dress trousers. From now on, the kid would be made to wear very tight jeans. True he was twenty and not technically a kid, but Thai men look so young that Boi could have passed for sixteen or seventeen. The guide was tall for a Thai, but still smaller than Mr. Black was, so while he was pointing out a spot where Burmese forces had destroyed a particularly important temple, Mr. Black slid on hand inside the young man’s white shirt and started to feel his nipples. Poor Boi really wanted a nice tip, so he tried to keep on smiling and talking, but Mr. Black started to flick his titty buds and pinch the nipple nubs so hard that he had to wince. He moved his shoulders to try to dissuade the man. Mr. Black put his face down and started to kiss Boi on the neck. Boi moved sharply away and faced his customer.
“No, please...this is a religious sight. It is not good here. You like boys, I can get you some handsome boys. After. We go to a friend’s bar. Very nice boys.”
Boi never lost his smile.
“But I don’t want handsome boys. I want you. You are handsome, and I want to fuck you.”
Boi looked around as if the spirits of their ancestors might hear.
“Please, not to talk like that in this place. I am married man. I not go with men. Sorry.”
“Oh, come now, nice-looking young fellow like you. Surely you fooled around Pu Chi with boys. Most Thais do.” Mr. Black also had a frozen smile on his face. He looked very handsome and quite threatening in his black cargo pants and hiking boots and a tank top with a black cotton shirt tied around his waist. The sunglass did nothing to diminish the power of his eyes.
Boi laughed a nervous laugh, almost a boyish giggle.
“In school, sure, I fool around. Not have any girls then, but not now. Now I am grown up. Now I am married. Sorry. If you want boys, I can get you handsome boys. Okay?”
Mr. Black shook his head slowly.
“I think I want to see what you look like naked. Then I’ll decide if you are fuckable material or not. Please remove all your clothing.”
Boi laughed harder and louder, a forced laugh.
“You joking with me, hey?”
“Look, you have two choices. Remove your clothes willingly, or I shall beat the shit out of you and force you to strip. Which is it to be?”
Boi took a Thai boxing stance. He had studied Mue Thai, kickboxing, for years and was really quite adept.
“I think maybe you get too much sun, or maybe you mau, drunk. We go back to Bangkok now, hey?”
Mr. Black’s easy honest smile grew broader.
“Oh, you’re going to fight me, are you? Wonderful, I could use some exercise before lunch.”
Mr. Black bowed hands together, one fist in the other palm in a Shaolin temple salute. Boi put his palms together in a wai.
“I no want to fight you,” Boi said nervously as he watched the taller man leap into a crane position.
“Then take off your clothes.”
There was to be no compromise, and so there in the hot late morning sun in the ruins of an ancient city, the two men fought. There was little to the fight, really. Boi got in a few good kicks, which impressed Mr. Black, but then the farang took to the air with a no-shadow, straight-legged kick that sent Boi reeling in the dust. While he was down, Mr. Black kicked him viciously twice in the nuts, and the boy was finished. Mr. Black sat on a stone head, wiping the sweat from his torso with his black cotton shirt, waiting for the young guide to recover.
“Now, be a good boy and undress for me.”
Boi dragged himself to his feet and began to remove his clothing. He had never felt so humiliated in his young life. The pain in his scrotum was excruciating, and Boi knew it was useless to fight further. He took off his dust-covered white dress shirt and folded it neatly on a rock. Then he kicked off his black dress shoes and peeled off his socks. He had broad sexy feet like most Thai men. Next, he removed his tee shirt to reveal a well-muscled chest with two nickel-sized nipples. Tan, smooth and hairless, except for tufts of black hair at each armpit. Mr. Black never tired of this slow, humiliating undressing game. Boi had probably been nude hundreds of times showering with other boys at school, or in a changing room, but this was different. Now he was being forced to strip for a man’s sexual pleasure.
The black trousers, also neatly folded, went on the rock. Now Boi stood in only a pair of black bikini underpants. He had a very nice cock and balls, Mr. Black could see that at once.
Boi smiled again.
“This is a joke, huh? Stupid game, huh?”
Mr. Black smiled.
“Take off your underpants.”
When the boy hesitated, Mr. Black only inhaled, and his body was off the high rock and standing before the frightened guide. It was almost supernatural. Boi actually jumped back, his naked feet digging into the dusty earth. He hooked his fingers inside the waistband of the tiny briefs and tugged them down over his slender hips. His four-inch flaccid uncut Thai dick swung free over a hefty pair of nuts. He stood naked before his captor.
“There, now that wasn’t so bad, was it? If you had done that at once, you could have avoided all that unpleasantness. You have a very nice dick, Boi. Very nice. I’ll bet your wife loves that stuffed up her cunt, huh?”
The young man didn’t know what to say. He wanted to cover his genitals with his hands but somehow knew that would incur the wrath of the farang. His toes dug deeper into the earth, and his naked body began to sweat in the sun.
“I asked you a question. ‘Does your wife like it when you fuck her?’ ”
“She enjoys when we make love...yes.”
Boi tried to keep a shred of dignity.
“How often do you fuck her?”
Boi closed his eyes, wishing the bad dream to end.
“Almost every day.”
“Well, sure, that makes sense. A healthy boy like you needs to fuck every day. Now turn around and let me see your ass.”
“I’m not used to asking twice.”
Boi turned. He had a strong back, a slender waist, and beautifully high tightly muscled ass cheeks. The ass crack was deep, and the globes of the ass rested firmly on strong soccer-playing legs.
“Oh, yes...oh, yes, indeed. That is a very fuckable ass. Tell me, Boi, have you ever been ass fucked?”
Boi was trembling.
The sun moved behind a stone temple wall casting the two strangers in shadow for a moment, then rose above it and bathed them in the glaring noontime sun. Mr. Black moved in, reaching out to squeeze those sexy ass cheeks.
“So, this is to be your first ass fuck then?”
“Do not do this to me. I can get you boys.”
Boi was crying. He had only cried once before in his life. When his mother had died, and he had become a monk for six months. Mr. Black slid one finger into the ass crack to feel the tightly puckered hole.
“Is this to be your first ass fuck...answer me, Cunt.”
Boi had tried to run. Foolish, I know, but he had tried. Naked and sweating, Boi had broken away from the monster farang and run among the fallen ruins of a crumbled kingdom. His feet were cut on stones as he broke this way and that, trying to lose Mr. Black amid eight-foot-high boulders and stone arches gone askew. Boi had to be on the lookout for snakes as well. After all, he was bare-assed and barefoot.
He hid in the shadow of a great carved wall, sweat pouring from his strong young naked body, his breathing heavy and much too loud. His beautiful, sensitive eyes were wide with fear, and he prayed for a tourist bus or van to pull up. After what seemed forever, he cautiously moved out, turning a corner only to stand face to face with a grinning Mr. Black.
And so now he was lunch. While Mr. Black sat in the air-conditioned Ranger eating the picnic lunch, Boi was tied spread eagle on a great slab of stone like some primitive sacrifice. His muscles strained at the ropes, as the hot sun blazed, baking him black while the insects feasted on his flesh.
Mr. Black had rummaged through the picnic hamper until he found what he wanted. Honey. It was often supplied by Thais to sweeten the tea of farang. Mr. Black spread a liberal coating of honey all over the naked bound boy’s cock and balls, after first frigging the dick to a nice erection. He smeared honey over the cockhead and into the pisshole. Mr. Black coated the smooth heavy scrotum with honey. He forced one honey-covered finger up the boy’s tight virgin anus. Mr. Black dabbed honey on the guide’s nipples. And then he watched as an army of ants made their way up the rock to the naked human lunch. A squadron of flies also landed on the boy’s crotch, taking tiny but painful bites of the cock flesh. Mr. Black loved the way the young man arched his body in pain, thrusting his hips up to the sun, his prick flopping and waving, sending flies in every direction.
Yes, the boy would make an excellent fuck. In fact, Mr. Black had just had a splendid idea. What a fun time it would be to have Ekk, the hotel clerk, and Boi fuck each other in front of their wives. Of course, they would lose a great deal of face and retain no self-respect. That too would be splendid.
He used the telephone in the Rover to call Bangkok, where the call was patched through to the states by his private operative.
“Hello?” his nephew Jeff answered, sliding his dick from the mouth of Brandon, the broken frat pledge.
“Whatever happened to respect, Jeff? Can’t you be polite? Who else ever calls you on this line but me? You could say ‘Hello uncle...’ ” Mr. Black said.
“Sorry, I was just teaching this miserable cunt of a pledge how to give a decent blowjob. It seems when I have my dick down his throat, he can’t perform the necessary tongue action. I tell him over and over to stimulate the bottom of the cock while I’m fucking his throat. He says my dick is too large, and he can’t move his tongue.”
“Tell him next time he forgets to move his tongue properly that you will staple his tongue to his lower lip. And make good on your threat. Never threaten anything you are not prepared to do. Now tell me, how is it going with the potential new client, what is his name, Daniels?”
“Very well, he’s deposited one hundred thousand dollars in our account for his first year’s membership.”
“And the security?”
“He brought me some photos of his kids naked. But they weren’t powerful enough, so I told him to get me some of him in bed with them. I told him to make sure the boys’ hands were on his dick.”
Mr. Black laughed.
“That’s a bit extreme. Be careful. He may enjoy his own son’s mouths and asses so much, he has no need for our club.”
“Oh no, he claims to be repulsed at the idea of fucking his own kids. It’s other teenage boys he wants. I made sure of that. Besides, the lesson in humility will do him good.”
“Well, keep me appraised. Maybe you should invite him to an evening at the cabaret. Get him there blindfolded, of course.”
“Will do. Jesus, this twerp can’t even lick my balls right.”
“Get out the staple gun.”
Across the world in a middle-class America bedroom, Pete Daniels lay naked on the bed with one of his bare-assed sons on each side of him, waiting for the flash of the camera to go off. All three had their legs spread, so their cocks and balls could be clearly seen by the camera. Pete had a fiercely hard, drooling erection. His sons’ bodies felt warm and soft in his arms. They had their heads nestled in his armpits. Pete felt terrible. Worse than terrible. He felt disoriented, lost, and alone. He was allowing his sons to be photographed naked in bed with him, as a device to catch a master molester. He was using his sons as bait in a way. But what choice did he have?
“Don’t you feel stupid, Dad? I feel really stupid,” the oldest boy Randy said, looking beyond his flat tummy and stubby dick and spread legs at the camera.
“Holy cow, Dad, is your pee-pee big,” said the younger son, unable to take his eyes off Dad’s monster drooling dick.
“Now just one shot of both you boys holding my dick, and we’ll be finished, and I promise you, you’ll never have to ever do anything so embarrassing again. And remember, you are doing this to help others.”
It’s a damn good thing the camera clicked, and the flash went off, because just a few seconds after he felt his son’s soft hands encircle his thick throbbing fuck slab, he shot the most massive load of his life, spraying all three of them with fuck slop.
“Oh…Jesus…oh…God...oh…fuck,” Pete screamed, spraying his sons’ faces and bodies with sperm.
“Man, Dad’s pissing goo,” Ryan shouted just before a huge spooge slopped him right in the nose and eye.
It’s hard to hide in New York City. It would not seem so, I know, but it is difficult for a thirteen-year-old boy who was a thirteen-year-old murderer. Raj was terrified. He did not know where to turn. He sucked off a tourist to get some money, so he had twenty bucks for food, but no place to sleep. A car circled three times before it slowed up, and the window went down.
“Hey, kid. Yeah, you, got no place to go? Want a hot meal and a warm bed and a little money?”
More of the same. Would this one be young or old, fat or thin? Please make him smell clean. An endless cycle for poor young Raj, trapped since childhood in the world of sex. How could he ever escape? Maybe this one would be young and handsome. Perhaps this would be the love of his life, someone to take him away from all this.
“My, my, my...aren’t you a pretty little piece of boy pussy,” the fat, balding, sixty-five-year-old use car salesman slurred.
Dream man? Not this time. Don’t think so!
Pete was taken blindfolded by helicopter to Mr. Black’s nightclub. He was reassured by Jeff, who rested a hand on his thigh during the mysterious trip that all this secrecy would not be necessary once they knew him better.
Once inside the door to the club, the blindfold was removed. It was a sumptuously decorated supper club in the Art Deco style, each booth situated so that the complete privacy of the client was assured, and each booth was facing a small curtained stage. Pete noticed at once, of course, the naked teenage boys moving through the soft, gentle velvet darkness of the room, serving drinks and food.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Jeff smiled. “In the meantime, make yourself at home. Everyone and everything here is available to you. Just ask.”
On a dais to the right of the stage, a naked teenage band offered unobtrusive versions of pop songs. The lead singer gyrated his slender pale teenage hips as he sang into the mike, and his cock and balls swung left and right. The drummer, a cocky kid with a mop of blond hair and a sweat-slick smooth young body, sat with his legs spread, his huge balls dripping off the small stool.
“Would you care for a drink, sir?”
Pete turned his head to see the tall, muscular seventeen-year-old waiter who, like the others, was naked. The boy had a winning smile, which few noticed because he also had an extremely large, thick, circumcised penis that was smooth and pink.
“Yes, a scotch and soda, please,” Pete said, smiling back at the handsome youth.
The boy relaxed a bit, and his hips and dick jutted forward even more.
“You’re new here, aren’t you, sir? I saw you looking at my prick. If you’d like to touch it or suck it, please just tell me. Everyone here is eager to make this the best night of your life.”
“Well, thank you,” Pete said awkwardly, now unable to look away from the horse cock on the seventeen-year-old boy.
“Mr. Black has just released a video of me called “Scoutmaster Tim,” in which I put some cub scouts through a really nasty initiation. You might enjoy it. I’ll be right back with your drink.”
Pete watched the young man’s muscular ass cheeks roll as he walked up to the bar, as another naked teen, this one about fifteen and carrying a tray, approached the table. This boy was smaller, with a more youthful chest and stomach and a short stubby prick that stuck out from a patch of black hair over two well-rounded hairless teen balls.
“Would you care for anything to smoke, sir? We have cigarettes, cigars, pot, of course, coke to sniff, crack cocaine, and heroin. We have needles, tabs, pills, powder, all coming from Mr. Black’s private compound and refinery in Mae Hong Son Thailand.”
Bingo! Already, Pete had something, the first mention of a drug ring in Thailand. Pete searched his mind, going back to the FBI Academy classes on drugs. Mae Hong Son meant “Valley of the Mists” and was an area in the northwest of the country near what is commonly referred to as the golden triangle.
“Sir, something to smoke?”
The boy smiled down at Pete. He was a cute kid with big eyes and black curly hair.
“Not now, thank you, maybe later.”
Pete wanted to appear gay, so he lightly brushed his hand over the boy’s prick and balls. The kid thrust his hips toward the client, offering his genitals to the man’s hand.
“You can smoke me later if you care to or perhaps you’d be interested in my new video, Kenny’s Kennel Adventure. It features me, a really mean well-hung dog trainer who loves to play rough and five Great Danes.”
The boy never lost his smile when describing the film, but his eyes kind of glazed over.
“Maybe later,” Pete said.
A few seconds later, Tim returned with the scotch and soda and a menu. Pete heard the sounds of heavy fucking coming from another booth, but he could see nothing. Jeff slid into the booth next to him.
“The show starts in about ten minutes. There’s private rooms upstairs, really sweet, everything you could want, including in house video cameras in case you may want a copy of your visit. As I said, all the boys are available, but we’ve got at least twenty guests tonight, so your first choice may be taken unless you move fast. Any type boy you’d like to try tonight?”
Pete took a risk.
“Yes, I’d love an Asian boy, preferably Thai. They always look about ten years younger than their real age.”
Jeff beamed, throwing his arm around Pete.
“Asian, huh? My uncle would like you since those are his favorites as well. We’ve got some delicious Thai boys. Would you like something young and unused, or in his teens and experienced?”
Pete could not stand the thought of having to have sex with a child.
“Someone about fifteen would be great.”
“Rough stuff or not, I mean, if you’re going to whip or fist the kid, I have to know, just so we can make the proper arrangements.”
“No,” Pete stammered, still unable to grasp the complexity of this perversity, “just normal sex.”
“Just normal sex with a fifteen-year-old Thai boy, huh, just gonna shove your big dick up his little ass two or three times, huh? Well, we can arrange that.”
Jeff snapped his fingers, and yet another naked boy of about thirteen hurried over. This kid qualified as an angel in the looks department.
“Bring me the Asian Book,” Jeff said, “and get me a vodka martini too. And move your cunt.” Then he turned back to Pete. “Talk about sweet asses. That kid is a real trip to fuck. His rectum just doesn’t stretch, no matter how many dicks plow it. I mean, I think every man who comes here has fucked him in the last month, and the little cunt is still tight as can be. And his face is so cute that I just love to slap my dick back and forth across it, leaving pecker tracks. The kid’s father is a public relations man for the Baptist Ministries and has no idea what his son is being forced to do.”
“Forced? So the boy isn’t whoring himself willingly?”
“Come on, would a cute thing like that willingly be used as a fucktoy for perverted men? That’s the sweetness of my uncle’s operation. It caters to men who are into humiliation, degradation, and forced sex. It’s a very peculiar appeal. All the boys who work here are blackmailed, threatened, or just plain beaten into submission. Many lead normal lives away from the club and films, so you might see a sixteen-year-old kid, getting fucked by a black basketball team, or even a gorilla in a video and know that that boy is desperately trying to keep up a normal life on the outside. Most are promised that if they behave and perform well for a few months, they will be released from their indenture and allowed to return to their lives.”
“Yeah, Pete, but what if a parent or teacher or someone does find out that this kid is involved in a sex ring unwillingly or not, what then?”
Jeff smiled a big smile and patted Pete on the cheek.
“Then we simply have to take care of the parents or teacher. We’ve got some exciting films that way. Mr. Black loves to film fathers who are forced to fuck their own sons. Sometimes a boy can really be broken in a fun way by making his father fuck him. That’s always fun. Of course, we also have family fuck fests.
Our show tonight features a father and three sons in a four-way fuck orgy. The father was caught altering the books of the business he worked for, and rather than go to prison, he opted for family sex for Mr. Black. You’ll enjoy that part of the show. The youngest son is getting his ass broken open for the first time tonight by both his eldest brother and their father. The middle brother is going to help by licking the dicks and balls as they fuck the little boy’s ass.
We’ve also got one of our main stars, a seventeen ear old kid named Chad, getting gang banged tonight on stage.
Also, a fourteen-year-old virgin boy will be stripped naked in public for the first time. It’s always great to watch their faces as the lower their underpants for a crowd for the very first time. Then he will have his scrotum beaten. Then he will be made to masturbate in public and lick up his spilled cum. Wait till you see this kid’s innocent, sweet face.
Then two well-hung Latino boys will have a tug-o-war using their dicks, which will be tied together.
And finally, two twin brothers in a dildo-stuffing contest. The boy who can take the largest dildo up his asshole gets to take the rest of the evening off. The boy who loses receives another kind of experience. Both these boys are in high school and on the school soccer team. At this point, they are still ass virgins, although both boys have been sucking dick for the last few weeks. Tonight we will see which teenage ass can accommodate the largest dildo.”
Jeff warmly smiled at Pete.
“You know, you’re one cool dude. I know you don’t go for guys your own age, and I’m no boy any longer, but hell, I’m only about ten years younger than you are, and if you ever want sex with a real man. Let me know.”
Jeff’s hand was working at Pete’s crotch. Pete knew this was a big break. Christ, the guy was Mr. Black’s nephew. If he could get in tight with him, he might be able to end this insanity all the sooner. Pete smiled back.
“I have no aversion to fully grown studs.”
“I don’t want you to think if always hit on the customers. In fact, I never do, my uncle would have a kitten, but I really like you. I’m not sure why, and that’s no insult. I just don’t know why I am particularly attracted to you, you know, with all the young meat lying around here for the taking and the fresh boy-cunt we’ve got at the frat house. We’ve got four pledges that we broke mentally and emotionally as well as physically. You met two of them in the limo. Well, these boys are nothing more now than fresh fine cunt meat. They have been reduced to cock slave status and have no will to fight, so I guess my uncle’s training paid off. What do you say, would you like to spend a weekend with me sometimes, mixing it up a bit?”
“Jeff, I’d be delighted to.”
The next instant hunky young Jeff Black’s tongue was inside Pete Daniels’ mouth. When they finished the two and a half minute spit swap, Pete found a book before him.
“These are the Asian boys we have available tonight. If a boy has a red mark next to his photo, it means he is already taken for the evening. I’ll be back—and Pete—it’s going to be wonderful getting to know you.”
Jeff laughed and moved on to another booth. Pete opened the book. Each boy had several photos: a face shot, a full-frontal nude shot, a rear nude shot, and then one or two in sexy positions like holding his ass cheeks open or masturbating his dick. The boys ranged from very young up to about eighteen. Then there were personalized comments on each boy like: “Never eaten shit, want to be the first with him?” or “This boy is very naughty and can take any punishment you can think up,” or “This boy has a four-point average in high school, see how he does at extracurricular.” One page had a charming young Asian boy. The caption read, “Watch these cute young brothers fuck, or fuck them both yourself. Special two for one price.” Pete could not believe that Mr. Black had literally forced all these fine innocent boys into sexual servitude.
Pete wanted a Thai boy, hoping to get more information on the location of the compound. He could then contact his boss at headquarters and get an attack force on its way, but only if Mr. Black was at the compound. Any invasion that did not include the capture of Mr. Black would have to be considered a total failure.
Pete had just decided on a very cute Thai fifteen-year-old with the caption, “The best cocksucker at Mr. Black’s,” when Jeff returned.
“I just had a brilliant idea. Since you love Thailand and it just so happens that my uncle is there now, doing some business, why don’t you and I fly out there and see him? We can get to know each other better and have a real blast.”
Pete beamed. Great fucking idea! So Mr. Black was in Thailand now, probably in Mae Hone Son.
“That’s a great idea, Jeff.”
Mr. Black had just finished a rewarding conversation with one of Hollywood’s most sought after leading men. The teenage heartthrob had recently made a film in Thailand and fallen into Mr. Black’s clutches. The young star knew that if his homosexual orgies and drug use became common knowledge, his career would be ruined, so Mr. Black had him literally by the balls.
The tall, lanky blond was seated in a lounge chair, working a nine-inch dildo in and out of his shaved pink asshole. Not that he wanted to do this; Mr. Black had ordered him to ass fuck himself. Mr. Black loved the way the young man’s face screwed up with every thrust of the big thick rubber prick up his boy-cunt.
The kid’s body, which had been thin and undeveloped, had now taken on a lovely tone due to his work on this Thai island adventure film. His pouty nipples now rode on well-developed pecs, and the lad’s body was a healthy golden tan. His dick was nothing to write home about, but it was cute, just the right size to bust the twats of the teenyboppers in his audience. Only very few knew that it would be their young hunky teenage boyfriends that would cause his boner to throb. His supposed bodyguards were actually studs hired to plow his skinny ass upon demand.
“You told me that if I did that disgusting New Year’s party for you, you would let me off the hook,” the kid whined in his thin, not very actorish voice.
He stopped pumping his boy-twat for a moment, but at a look from Mr. Black, he commenced ramming his pussy with the dildo again.
“I know, baby, but you know how it is, you need the drugs and secrecy, and my clients just love to see Hollywood’s hottest young hunk getting ass battered on private video, so I think you’ve got to make a few more videos for me. You just go on back to “Hollyweird” and do your usual thing. I’ll contact you when I want you.”
“Jesus, if these videos ever get out, I’ll be ruined.”
Slop thunk, slop thunk, slop thunk!
“Then, you just better hope they never get out.”
Mr. Black took out his huge dick and walked up to the mega-star.
The blond opened his nice full-lipped mouth, and Mr. Black shoved his dick into the most idolized face in filmdom.
“Suck! And keep fucking your ass. You see, you learned a valuable lesson, my dear young twat. Money and fame are not everything. Leverage! That’s real power. I’ve got the leverage. You need the drugs, can’t do without them. You also have a secret sex life. So, in essence, you belong to me.
“Now, I want you to do a few things for me. You owe your public a better time, so I want you to return to Hollywood and select as your next major picture, one with a nice long full frontal nude scene. You cheated them with this island picture. Everybody thought they were going to see some tallywhacker, so I want some unobstructed, well-lit cock shots in the next film. We’ll see if the teenyboppers still adore you when they see that their high school sweethearts have bigger dicks.
“I can’t understand what you’re saying, so shut up and suck.
“Secondly, you know your lovely rear sun deck on your Hollywood mansion, the one the reporters are always filming with their zoom lenses. Well, I want you to go out there one day next week around noon, lay down in a lounge chair bare-ass naked, and beat your meat. Shoot a nice load. That will keep the tabloids happy.
“Oh, stop crying, you big baby, it’ll probably help your fucking career. Jesus, you can’t act worth shit, so you might as well do something adeptly even if it’s just jerk off.”
The film actor had left by private car about noon and a good thing too because at five that afternoon, the Thai Army attacked the compound. Mr. Black first heard the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of helicopter blades as he was fucking the ass of the sixteen-year-old son of one of his refinery workers. At first, he thought it was the ceiling fan and went on slamming his big prick into the tight sweet hole of the native boy.
The adorable, very straight, shy boy was extremely timid, so Mr. Black had made a big deal of stripping the kid and feeling his ass in front of all the laughing compound workers. The boy knew he could not refuse Mr. Black, or else his family would lose their jobs at the compound preparing the opium into small blocks, so he had to stand there in the sun-filled compound yard and let Mr. Black weigh his balls and yank on his dick.
Finally, Mr. Black shouted in Thai so all could understand, “I think this boy will make a fine pussy.”
And then he sent the kid to his room with instructions for the boy to shower and wait bare-assed on his bed. Nervously, the poor native boy waited for over an hour, imagining what a dick up his ass must feel like, knowing he would be teased and called Mr. Black’s cunt by all the boys in the village. Knowing the girls would look away and giggle.
First, Mr. Black taught him how to suck cock. That took some time. Then the patient teacher taught the boy how to properly suck on and lick a scrotum. Next, they progressed to ass sucking, which made the boy sick several times, but he finally got the hang of it. And then Mr. Black fucked the crying kid up the ass.
It was then that he heard the approaching helicopters. He never heard the gunfire as the Thai military troops slaughtered everyone in the compound, man, woman, and child. Mr. Black was already in the dark tunnel dug underneath the compound and leading to the local Karen Hill Tribe village. It was a tunnel similar to those used by the Vietnamese during the Asian war, dark and dirty, but a lifeline at times such as these. Tolerance toward drug traffic is zero in Thailand with an automatic death penalty without a trial at times.
Mr. Black had paused only enough to grab a knapsack full of clothes and survival needs, then naked, with his hard dick still leaking pre-fuck, he grabbed the terrified Thai kid and ushered him down a stairway beneath a trap door set in the floor of the bedroom underneath an oriental carpet. Mr. Black did not save the kid out of kindness. He did not want anyone behind to testify as to where he had gone. He could have killed the boy, but he didn’t have time, and besides, the lad was cute and a potentially good fuck toy.
They made their way naked beneath the earth and climbed up a ladder into a hut in the middle of the Hill Tribe village. The amazed faces of the villagers, including the beautiful long-necked girls with silver bands stretching their heads high, broke into grins as the farang with his big dick flopping rushed to the top of the nearest hill to stare at the smoke rising from his burning compound. Distant sounds of gunfire told the story of the slaughter. Mr. Black swore vengeance on whoever had revealed the location of the compound and caused the death of so many workers and, more importantly, the loss of so much fine opium, a multi-million dollar loss in less than an hour.
The Thai boy gently tried to break free of Mr. Black’s grasp, thinking he might spirit himself to safety unnoticed, but Mr. Black twisted his hand in the boy’s black hair and then slapped him hard three times.
“I’m not through fucking you!” Mr. Black said in Thai, “Kow Jai Mai? Do you understand? I’m outraged, and when I’m angry, I fuck very hard. I like to hurt the boy I’m fucking! I’m going to hurt you very badly today. Very badly. You’re going to cry like a little baby as I fuck you over and over. And hopefully, that will make me feel a bit better! And then all the boys and the men in the village will fuck you. They will do it because I will pay for them to do it. Over fifty men and boys will fuck you today. And there is nothing you can do about it. The pain of great tragedies must be compensated for with trifling pleasures!
It always happened. It was painful but necessary, to reach the peaceful deeper levels of meditation, Mr. Black had to pass through tortured memories of his own damaged childhood. His abusive father, the belt across his little boy ass, the objects inserted up his rectum. Days spent in a closet, shitting and pissing on himself, begging for some love some compassion, some pity.
But soon, Mr. Black’s state of consciousness slipped deeper still into the peaceful world he had discovered by himself as a frightened child, a world he had later explored with more control as a student of eastern meditation. The incense sent wispy clouds of smoke up into the eaves of the small mountain hut, and along with the smoke, Mr. Black’s painful childhood. A new power filled his body. It entered like a bright golden light through his forehead and then coursed its ways down into his limbs. Power. Amazing power. The power of a Hong Gar Kung Fu master. The power to control his enemies, who consisted of most of the rest of the world.
The only part of the meditative process Mr. Black could not master was compassion. And, of course, compassion lies at the center of Buddhism. Compassion was not in Mr. Black’s lexicon. Compassion was a disease that weakened. Compassion made one vulnerable.
The face of the stone Buddha looked down on the man who kneeled before the altar with something akin to pity. Surely, he had many uncomfortable lifetimes ahead of him, so much for which to atone, but the lotus the man offered was sweet-smelling and held within its secret petals a faint promise of redemption.
Mr. Black walked from the mountain hut out into the damp mist of early morning. His thin cotton shirt felt cool and wet against his muscular torso, and he stretched his arms up and out toward the gray sky. Life was good. Setbacks were to be expected. Everything, even his preposterous existence, was part of a process. Mr. Black kicked at some low leafy plants to watch the morning dew fall like crystals to the earth. The Valley of the Mists. Mae Hong Son. He heard the snort of the elephant before he felt the weight of the trunk on his shoulder.
“You finish? You want go back now?” the boy on the back of the big beast questioned.
He was a stunningly beautiful boy of fifteen. An elephant boy—when he was born, he was given an elephant that would live his whole life with him. The elephant was the single most important thing in the boy’s life and commanded all his loyalty and attention.
At one time, such beasts and their owners had been central to Thailand’s welfare, but now in the age of modern technology, they were reduced to a few thousand, living mostly in the mountain jungles. These elephant boys were taught a secret language handed down from father to son. They controlled the huge animals by singing gently to them.
Aii, the elephant boy, wearing a “heavy metal” tee shirt and a wraparound sarong of Thai block print, and looking as fresh and young and wet as the morning itself, looked down and smiled at the handsome farang.
“Do I want to go back? No, not yet. I want to go to the radio transmitter higher up in the hills. You know where I mean?”
The boy reached down and helped to hoist the man up onto the beast’s back.
“Big dish? Radio? Sure I know. Okay. Toot toot!”
The elephant turned, and Mr. Black held onto the slim waist of the boy for balance. Up through the jungle, they traveled, Aii using his slingshot to stir a cloud of birds up across their vision. As they slowly climbed up through the mist, Aii leaned his head back onto the chest of the farang.
“Next time, you bring me Walkman, okay?”
“Okay, you got it.” Mr. Black laughed, sliding his large hands up beneath the boy’s tee shirt and over his slender chest to twist the kid’s pouty nipples gently, causing the boy to giggle.
“You wake up my cock.”
“Let me see,” Mr. Black whispered into the boy’s round, shell-like ear.
Riding atop the elephant up into the hills of the Golden Triangle, Aii unwrapped the sarong from his hips, so he was naked from the waist down. His sturdy young boy cock stood up stiffly from a small jungle of black hair. The foreskin was stretching back over a sizeable pink dickhead, and pre-fuck already oozed from the pisshole.
“My, my, but you do get excited quickly,” Mr. Black chuckled
Mr. Black took the leaking dick in one hand and began stroking it. The other hand worked the boy’s nipples. The kid’s breathing got harder, his chest rose and fell, and he pushed his head back against Mr. Black, who twisted around so he could tongue kiss the boy. He slopped spit into the Thai lad’s mouth as the large elephant ears slapped against his legs.
Insects hummed about them as if smelling the sex juice leaking from their dicks. Mr. Black released his own huge drooling prick from the confines of his trousers. Aii got to his knees and turned around unafraid of falling from the elephant. The beast’s long thick trunk twisted up to curl between the boy’s legs, nudging the kid’s dripping erection. Aii slapped the trunk playfully away, then reached down and began to pump Mr. Black’s big dick. Aii opened the farang’s shirt to lick the sweat from his armpits and suck on his nipples. Aii quite simply adored this big white man who came to his village every few months. He would willingly spend the rest of his life with him, were it not for the elephant.
Mr. Black peeled the boys “heavy metal” tee shirt up and off so he could taste and smell the kid’s slender brown torso, such a perfectly natural unblemished human being, a living work of art.
The boy knelt facing Mr. Black and then reached down to place the farang’s monster cock at the entrance of his tight little asshole. He loved the feel of the big wet dick had at his little rosebud rectum lips. He loved the feel of the cockhead stretching his asshole, squeezing inside him to become part of him. It hurt, but it hurt so good. It felt like a log was being shoved up his ass. Aii sat down on Mr. Black’s throbbing prick and buried his soft young face in the man’s muscular chest. The rolling movement of the elephant sent the dick in and out of the boy’s ass-pussy, and the kid’s stiff little dick rubbed against Mr. Black’s stomach, leaving pecker tracks amid the cool early morning sweat.
The first fuck of the day, the first tight young teenage boy asshole of the day, was always somehow the best for Mr. Black.
“Phom rak khun Mark (I love you very much),” the boy said to him. And for one of the rare moments in his life, Mr. Black felt something like love in return.
It was the most incredible private jet, Pete Daniels had ever seen. More incredible was the naked young man who served as steward, a bare-assed hunk of about eighteen, huge jock dick swinging as he walked. Pete could not help but admire the perfect muscular ass on the young man with high hard cheeks and a deep ass crack. The jock had a handsome square young athlete’s face with a mop of curly brown hair.
“This is Scott,” Jeff said casually, reaching out and grabbing the naked steward by his ample ball sack. “Scott was a champion athlete in high school, Olympics material, but he got involved in drugs, and now he’s working for us for a while, trying to salvage his reputation, aren’t you, Scott?”
Scott winced as Jeff squeezed his soft tender scrotum tightly
“Scott is going to be our steward on this flight and an available ass-cunt. After all, it’s a seventeen-hour trip to Thailand. Scott here is most cooperative because he wants to go to college, and we have proof of his indiscretions. Scott could be a sport’s star next year or a washed-up bum. It all depends on how well he sucks dick and uses his ass-pussy. Doesn’t it, Scott?”
Scott hissed through his teeth as Jeff yanked on the boy’s big dickhead.
“Scott here is straight and loves to fuck girls. He was a big twat fucker in high school, but how he’s become a twat himself, haven’t you, Scotty?”
“Yes, sir, I’m a twat, sir.”
The fresh-faced jock blinked and bit his full lower lip.
“Can you say that with a bit more enthusiasm, Scott?” Jeff Black smirked.
“I AM A TWAT, SIR, AND A USELESS CUMRAG. A FUCKHOLE, SIR.”
“That’s better. Now, make us a couple of drinks.
“Pete, why not undress and slip into one of these silk robes. It’s such a fucking long trip, and there is no way around it. By the time we stop to refuel in Tokyo and then get to Bangkok, we’ll be traveling something like twenty-six hours even though actual flying time is seventeen. However, the boys in Tokyo are lots of fun, sturdy young cunts with short, muscular legs and good asses. I love to tease them about their useless short stubby dicks. Those little Jap fucks really admire our big fat western cocks.”
Jeff stripped out of his clothing, tossing it onto the floor for Scott to pick up. Pete, way out of his element here, followed suit. He had no choice now, as he was now on the inside track to Mr. Black.
Jeff had the well-toned body of a college athlete. One of those big hunky football all-American boy bodies. It was easy to tell he prided himself in his looks and was comfortable about his own nudity. And why shouldn’t he be, he had one of those fucking killer horse dicks that guys stare at in the showers. A fat, thick meaty cock hung like a piece of steak hanging between his tree-trunk thighs. And a bag with lemon-sized nuts. Pete, who had always been proud of his prick and was in great shape at thirty, felt stupid next to the college boy. Jesus, when Jeff moved, his seven-inch soft dick swung like the pendulum on a clock.
“I suppose you are wondering about the bare-assed kid tied up in the chair?”
Pete indeed had been. There was a boy of about fourteen secured to one of the leather flight chairs. The kid was lashed with his legs wide apart, so his soft young hairless balls and teenage dick were quite visible. He was a cute kid with red hair and freckles. His body was boyish and undeveloped. He had a tight little tummy and lovely pouty titties like so many redheaded boys seem to have. His eyes were wide with fear, and his mouth was gagged with a couple of old jockstraps. Jeff walked over to the boy and slapped him hard across the face.
“This is Sean. Sean is the son of a senator, and this being an election year, we, of course, felt the need to ensure that certain high-ranking politicians support our activities. Well, Sean’s father has that old bugaboo about morals. It seems he doesn’t like us fucking young boys, and it seems he doesn’t like our billion-dollar video business. He’s trying to clean up the country, so Sean has come to stay with us for a while. We’re taking him to Thailand, where he will be safely out of the way. If Sean’s daddy behaves, Sean will go home again, safe and sound. If Sean’s daddy is a bad man, Sean will become a boy whore in Burma, never seen or heard from again.”
Jeff picked up a long slender rod off a cabin table and snapped it harshly against the teenage boy’s ball sack. The beaten scrotum wobbled and shook. The poor kid squealed into the spit-soaked jockstrap, as his body jumped in its bonds.
“Sean here was fucked for the very first time in his young teenage life just yesterday morning. What a day that was too, huh, Sean baby, a big cock up your tender little asshole in the morning, another cock up your poop chute in the afternoon, and three dicks up your newly formed cunt in the evening. And all photographed and sent back to Daddy to help encourage him to do the right thing. Sean’s one of those boys who look especially cute when they cry. So we like to keep him crying, don’t we, you little pussy, huh, little pussy?”
Jeff whacked the boy in the balls again. The tortured boy gagged.
“Yeah, with those dirty jockstraps in your mouth, you can’t even puke, can you, pussy? You can only swallow your own vomit. You’ll be happy to know that the boys, who wore those jockstraps, jacked off into them about ten times each. Now listen, pussy, I’m going to whack your nuts really hard this time, so I want you to arch your hips up toward me to make it easier. I know it’s not easy tied to that chair like that, but do your best to help me. I want to get a nice clean shot at your fuck sack. Now, hold nice and still so I can slam the nuts themselves. Are you ready, Sean? Are you ready?”
The boy bucked and twitched. He seemed to blackout for a moment and then twisted in the chair in agony as pain washed up from his scrotum and covered his sweaty young body. His toes curled, his legs spasmed, his tummy sucked in, his tits heaved, his arms jerked, the cords in his neck stood out, and he screamed bloody murder into the soiled jockstraps.
“Oh, here’s Scott with our drinks. I hope you like these vodka martinis. There’re my uncle’s favorite drink. These are special because Scott stirs them with his dick.”
Scott, these are fine. Go shove an eight-inch dildo up your ass and then buckle in for takeoff.”
“Yes, sir,” the bare-assed athlete said.
The takeoff was smooth, and once they were in the air, several remarkable things happened. First, Jeff made his move on Pete.
“You know, I’ve got a kind of crush you, Pete,” he said. “That’s why I asked you along on this trip. Now I’m an equal opportunity fucker. I fuck kids, teens, young men, and fully developed men like you. Part of the reason I accepted you so quickly into my uncle’s club is that I was instantly attracted to you. Funny how that works.”
“I like you too, Jeff,” Pete lied.
Whatever it took to get to Mr. Black. Whatever it took.
“Well, why don’t you show me then? Why don’t you come over here and suck my big dick? It’s a way for us to get to know each other better.”
Pete knelt down in front of the college stud, who opened his silk robe to reveal his massive slab of fuckmeat.
“And don’t feel embarrassed if you choke on it a little the first few times. Even little Sean there choked until I rammed it into his throat good and proper.”
Pete started to lick the big dick. He knew he had to do a good job, or Jeff might detect that he wasn’t really a cocksucker, wasn’t even really gay. Pre-cum bubbled from the pisshole and trailed down the dick stalk into Pete’s mouth. He licked the drooling cock slop off the college boy’s huge pendulous nuts. He lifted each nut on his tongue as Jeff groaned in pleasure and sipped his second martini. At one point, Jeff poured some of the drink onto his stiff throbbing dick and let Pete lick it clean.
“Oh, yeah, Pete, I don’t know what it is about you, but I really do like you a lot. I’m gonna suck your dick next. I usually don’t do that, but in your case, I just have to. Oh, yeah, Pete, lick my pisshole. Stick your fucking tongue in my pisshole, and scoop out the fuck slop. Clean out my fucking foreskin. Oh, yeah, baby, we’re going to get along just fine.
“Scott, get your ass over here. Stick your dick up Pete’s asshole while he sucks me.”
Neither Pete nor Scott was prepared for this, Scott, because he had never fucked a male, Pete, because his sexual training had concentrated mostly on him fucking boys, not getting plowed. Pete looked up past the huge balls and cock at Jeff’s face. Jeff laughed.
“Not used to getting fucked, huh? Well, if you’re going to play with the big boys, you have to do everything, every fucking disgusting sexual thing two rutting studs can do, so open up, Pete, cause you are getting cocked!”
The pain was, of course, terrible, but Pete had been through torture training in the FBI Academy, so he could stand the ass fuck. It was something else that really hurt and bothered him, though. Just before he shot off his load into Pete’s mouth, while Scott’s big prick was still in the agent’s asshole, Jeff had said, “You know, Pete, I just can’t wait to get my big dick up the ass of your oldest son. Nothing wrong with the younger one either, but I just think the older one is a little more fuckable. My dick has his name written all over it. Just think, fucking both father and son. Maybe I’ll fuck the two of you together, that’d be fun, huh, sport. Maybe, I’ll go from your asshole into your son’s mouth. Give him a nice taste of Daddy’s shitter. You’ll see, Pete, trust me, once you fuck your own sons in the ass, then you will know what real pleasure is.”
And the worst thing of all was with his mouth on a big thick college jock cock and another dick plowing his tender tight asshole, Pete Daniels, at the mention of fucking his own two darling dear boys, had had one of the biggest orgasms of his entire life. His own dick just fucking exploded. Without being touched. Scott, of course, had to lick up the mess, while Jeff took a telephone call from his uncle.
“That’s just terrible about the compound, Uncle. I don’t know who could have notified the Thai government. I thought we had everyone important bribed. That’s millions we lost in opium.
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.
“You think it had to be someone inside the organization who gave the feds the location of the Mae Hong Son compound? I don’t know who would know. I suppose some of the little fuck bait boys might have overheard a conversation, but I can’t believe any of them would squeal, and not to the feds. They’re too scared to do anything but suck when told to and spread their cunt lips.
“And that’s not all, Uncle. I’ve got more bad news. Dr. Deter Ditmann was found dead, skull bashed in. Probably some street whore. But the bad part is one of the discs is missing. Naw, the police got nothing, but somebody has found a computer disc with names on it, the names of some of our clients. I suppose those clients are going to have accidents to protect our interests. That’s a lot of fucking work.
“Believe me, Uncle, I know it’s really a bad situation. Fuck if I don’t know it. And I know you entrusted me with stateside operations when you’re over there.
“Well, we took off about an hour ago, so as soon as we get to Bangkok, we’ll catch a flight for Mae Hong Son. You’ll come to Bangkok, are you sure? Please, Uncle, relax. Take it easy. Everything will work out. I’ve got guys trying to hunt down the disc.
Yeah, we think it was a New York hustler, kid, early teens. We’re doing a thorough check of Dittman’s house for traces of hair and other stuff. Got a whole team on it.
“Look, you relax. I promise you that everything will be okay. Have some fun, Uncle. How about some archery practice? Round up some teenagers and practice, ‘cause when I get there, I’m going to whup your ass with the bow and arrow. I can hit a scrotum at two hundred yards.”
Jeff hung up the phone laughing and then looked very serious and worried.
“Shit, is he pissed. And you don’t piss off my uncle. You don’t piss off Mr. Black.”
Getting fucked in the ass by Jeff Black definitely had its advantages. Although his ass hurt like bloody hell, the ‘romancing’ by Jeff had somewhat curtailed his having to fuck young boys, and it had gotten him entrance to one of Mr. Black’s own private houses off of Sukummvit Road in Bangkok.
Jeff seemed to have some kind of inordinate crush on Pete Daniels, something neither of them could explain, and as long as Pete played along with it, it brought him closer and closer to his goal. It had also given him his first actual look at Mr. Black himself on a video. Although Mr. Black never appeared on the underground sexual videos for sale, well, not his face anyway, this was a special film he had made for some special friends of his.
Pete unwrapped himself from Jeff’s naked body and rolled over in bed. He looked at the clock. Eight a.m. He took the remote and muted the sound while he switched on the picture of the video they had been watching before they fucked last night. There was Mr. Black, wearing a black tee shirt and tight jeans, a tall, well-built middle-aged man with short, dark, choppy hair, and a handsome square face with a strong chin. In the video, Mr. Black was standing in front of a naked kneeling sixteen-year-old boy. He was an American, a high school swimmer. Pete remembered the video soundtrack.
“Hello, this is Mr. Black with a special Christmas gift for my special friends. The little faggot here lying in front of me is sixteen-year-old Sawyer Sokol. Sawyer has been a bad boy. Sawyer, keep your legs spread, so your cunt shows. That’s a good piggy.”
As he spoke, Mr. Black reached out and began to twist Sawyer’s nickel-sized brown nipples. Tears ran down the boy’s cheeks.
“As I was saying, Sawyer the Faggot has been a bad little twat. It came to my attention that Sawyer has refused not only to let the captain of the football team fuck him, but he also won’t even suck his dick for him. Sawyer is a selfish little cock sewer. Soon he will be very popular at school. I mean, what jock boy can turn down a free cock suck? Legs wider apart, fuckhole! I wanna see pink. Now, I’ve devised a little project to help Sawyer and to amuse ourselves. Right, Sawyer?”
“Yes, sir,” the poor beautiful young boy answered in a thin, tense voice. His girly nipples were getting a real workout from Mr. Black’s strong fingers.
“Sawyer is going to get over his cock shyness. He’s going to suck one hundred cocks. When he has sucked one hundred cocks, he can go free, back to his family and friends, back to school and church, and no one will ever have to know. Don’t worry, Sawyer, we’ll provide the cocks, you just provide the face twat. Now, you really must stop crying Sawyer, we’ve been over this. Come on, cheer up!”
The camera panned down to see Mr. Black push the toe of one of his expensive Italian made loafers between the cheeks of Sawyer’s young virgin ass-pussy.
“You’re lucky, Sawyer, that we’re not going to fuck you one hundred times and send you home. We’ve done that with boys younger than you are, turning their tight little asses into cunts. Boys just like you who don’t realize their purpose in life is to serve men and their cocks.
Anyway, Sawyer, you’re going to suck one hundred big drooling dicks—black dicks, white dicks, yellow dicks, all kinds of dicks. You’re going to become an expert cocksucker, the finest cocksucker in your high school, maybe in your hometown, but there’s a catch, Sawyer. I told you that after you suck one hundred, you can go home, right? But, Sawyer, I want you to keep a diary of all the cocks you suck. A diary I can reproduce and send to my friends as a Christmas gift along with this video that they can read while they watch your cute young face get prick-stuffed.
It’s not your fault, Sawyer, boys like you are given a misconception when they watch all those artificial relationships in Hollywood movies and on TV. You get the wrong idea that you can hug and kiss girls on the mouth. That’s really stupid, Sawyer. The proper place for a faggot’s face is on a guy’s cock! It’s that simple. When a guy comes over to watch TV at your house, he sits on the couch and watches TV while you’re on the floor between his legs face buried in his nice sweaty dick and balls. When you go to the movies, he watches the movie while you lean over and bury your face in his crotch. On the way home in the car, you lick his prick and nuts. The place for your face is on his dick, except, of course, for when it’s in his ass.
“Anyway, about your diary, Sawyer, you will keep an accurate record of each and every one of the one hundred cocks you suck. You will report on the smell, the taste, the size, and the shape of the dick. You will record how each cock is unique and different from every other cock. By doing this, you will learn to love and respect cock.
“Take as much time as you want with each prick. We won’t rush you. Study and learn to love the dick before you write about it. I want a full report on each suck. I want you to describe the pisshole, how your tongue felt in and around it. I want you to spend lots of time writing about the uncut cock foreskin and the cut cock dickhead texture.
“You’re an excellent writer at high school, Sawyer. At least, that’s what your teachers say. Here’s your chance to prove it. I want you to describe in detail the feel and taste and smell of each ball sack. The feel of the scrotum wrinkles on your tongue, the tickle of the ball hair on your nose. I want you to rhapsodize over the taste of the dick snot as it splashes across your face and into your mouth. I want a complete essay on each cock.
“And, Sawyer, listen closely, if any one of the essays is not satisfactory, you go back to the beginning and start sucking all over again from one. Do you understand? I don’t care if you’re at ninety- eight. If that essay doesn’t please me, it’s back to square one.”
The video then commenced showing the poor sobbing sixteen-year-old boy sucking one hundred dicks—huge greasy black dicks, short thick Polish dicks, slimy, uncut Latino dicks. Pete really liked the film for several reasons. First, it showed Mr. Black. That in itself was a coup. Then the film involved a teenage boy twat. Watching the boy slurp on prick turned Pete on. Thirdly, like a lot of straight guys, he was especially turned on by boys being corrupted and degraded. It was interesting to see how the boy’s cocksucking technique matured and developed as he went from cock to cock. His lips became swollen and looked more full and sensual. The cocksucking took place over a series of days. Sawyer was always bare-ass naked. His nipples looked permanently swollen and stretched. Pete had to admit he liked the look. Then the scorching hot scene when Mr. Black confronted the boy with the diary entry for his fifty-sixth cocksuck.
“Oh, Sawyer, I’m so disappointed in you. I’m afraid this won’t do at all. Here on number fifty-six, you mention that his ballbag was really sweaty and that the smell was powerful, but you say nothing about the taste of the ball sweat. I’m sorry, darling, but I’m afraid it’s back to cock one all over again!”
The fucking teenage boy cunt had a nervous breakdown, captured beautifully on the video camera. Christ, he behaved like some kind of animal. They had to sedate him. Then in the next scene, he was sucking dick again.
“You really like that cocksucking video, don’t you, man?” Jeff said, rolling over, so his big morning piss-hard was rubbing against Pete’s hip. Pete turned toward his supposed lover. Now his own erection was rubbing against Jeff’s dick. The sensitive dick skins slid along each other, sending ripples of pleasure into both men. Jeff plastered his body against Pete’s, rubbing his hands over the agent’s ass cheeks.
“Be careful, man, my hole is still raw from last night.”
Pete laughed, but he hated getting fucked. It was awful. When this pervert of a child molester was screwing his butt, he often thought of taking a gun and blowing the kid’s head off. And yet there were times when Jeff’s affection really touched him. Times he almost liked the pedophile. How strange. Jeff rubbed his big dick along Pete’s stomach.
“Speaking of last night, what did you think of that Thai boy we fucked?”
“Very cute, and an amazingly tight ass, he just about strangled my prick.”
“And what I like about the fucking Thais is how young they all look. I was shocked to learn that that kid was fourteen. I mean, he looked ten. I fucking thought he was ten.”
“He really hated it when you pissed in his mouth.”
“Oh, man, speaking of piss. I got this painful morning piss hard.”
Pete suddenly felt something splash up against his chest. A spray of something hit his chin and face.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Pissing!” Jeff laughed while holding Pete closer, so the piss sprayed up between their bodies. “Come on, Pete...piss!”
Poor Pete had never done anything like this in his thirty years. He had heard about such sex games but never been motivated to explore them. Pete tried to relax since he wanted to please Jeff. He really wanted Jeff to trust him, to lead him to Mr. Black. Suddenly, a spray of piss shot from his own dick, a geyser shooting up between their chests. Both men laughed as they pissed until the bed beneath them became a lake of urine. Jeff thrust his tongue into Pete’s mouth, and they kissed while they pissed. Finally, the torrent stopped, and drenched with pee, they both climbed from the big bed.
“Let’s go shower. I may wanna fuck your ass in there.”
“I told you my ass is too sore. You fucked it three fucking times yesterday.”
“I only came up it once. The other times weren’t real fucks.”
“They sure felt like real fucks. The hole doesn’t know the difference.”
Both naked men laughed. Jeff pushed a buzzer, and a teenage Thai boy dressed in only a loose sarong entered the room. He was quite beautiful.
“Oh, Noi, we pissed the bed. Change the sheets, will you?” Jeff said, walking toward the bathroom with his arm over Pete’s naked shoulder, another huge erection forming, this one from lust.
“Yes, Khun Jeff, right away.”
The adorable Thai youth went over to the bed and began to strip off the sheets. Jeff was away from Pete and back to the bed in an instant. He grabbed Noi around the throat in a chokehold. The young brown body struggled against the larger naked American.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Noi? Are you forgetting your manners just because my uncle isn’t here? Do you mean to tell me you’re going to let all that wonderful farang piss go to waste? Now, before you strip off those sheets, you crawl up on that bed, and you suck all the piss from those sheets!” He shoved the boy’s head onto the bed, and Noi began to lick up the pool of stinking yellow piss. Jeff smiled at Pete, who stood in stunned silence.
“Good help is so hard to find nowadays.”
Thirteen-year-old Raj was getting his nipples worked over really hard. The fucking tourist from Nebraska was chewing on them. A fucking software salesman in New York for a convention, leaving a wife and two kids at home and picking up teenage street hustlers.
At least the guy was clean and relatively young, a little chubby and out of shape, but not bad looking. And he did not want to fuck. That was a blessing. He only wanted to suck and chew on the kid’s body. Raj’s nuts were already chewed raw.
The fucker kept saying, “You are so sweet, I could just eat you alive.”
“Hey, easy, man,” Raj protested as the fucker sucked one big brown titty into his mouth and then bit down hard with his teeth on the nub.
“Sorry, kid, I get carried away. I just love to bite your titties until I got milk from them.”
“It ain’t going to happen, mister.”
Raj took the guy’s short stubby erection in one hand and began to jerk.
“Oh, yeah…oh, yeah...oh…that’s great kid…just like that...just like that. Frig my big prick.”
What big prick, this worthless thing? Raj almost laughed out loud. For some reason, at that moment, he thought of Pete Daniels’ huge pecker and how he had come to love it. He always got depressed when he thought of Pete Daniels and how he had been betrayed by the man. Then he thought of the German pervert and how he had smashed in his skull. Then he thought of the stolen computer disc that he had hidden behind a dumpster in an alley off of Fifty-Second Street. That disc was worth its weight in gold. More. And while he thought of all these things, he moaned as if he were actually enjoying the sex.
“Oh, yeah...oh, yeah...a little harder...yeah, frig my dick. Frig my big dick.”
Raj would have liked to yank the fucking thing right off. Serve the john right. Send him home to his wife, dickless. “Honey, this Indian kid pulled it off!”
Raj raised his slim naked hips and moaned in artificial ecstasy as he felt the splats of the businessman’s cum on his stomach.
“Oh, yeah…oh, fuck...oh, fuck...oh, that’s great, kid. That’s great.”
The salesman never heard the door of the cheap hotel room open, but Raj did. The salesman never saw the two men enter, but Raj did. The salesman never heard the “phut, phut” of the silencer on the berretta automatic, but Raj did, and to the young Indian hustler, the sound of the gun, even muffled, was shockingly loud. Silencers do not really work all that well, not like in the movies.
The dead Nebraskan slumped down over Raj, his weight keeping the boy from moving. The two men approached the bed and rolled the dead body off and onto the floor. A pool of blood spread across the cheap carpet, mixing with toenail clippings and dried spooge. One of the two men grabbed Raj by the hair.
“This is him. This is the kid. All right, cunt, where’s the disc?”
The back of the man’s hand caught Raj on the right side of his jaw. His cute face snapped to one side.
“Close the door, Arnold, and lock it. This may take some time, and I want to enjoy myself. Look pussy, you’re going to tell me where the disc is, but I hope you hold out for a while. I hope you are stubborn as hell because that way I get to have some fun with your cock and balls and asshole. First, I’ll insert the barrel of the gun up your hustling ass, just to put it someplace where it’s handy, then I’ll take my nail clippers and go to work on your piss lips. Do you know that I can circumcise a kid with my nail clippers? Well, it’s not really neat, but I’m getting better at it. And before we finish, you will be singing like a bird.”
Poor young Raj closed his eyes. His life had been one long torturous trial, but this was the worst. Raj knew that if he told them where the disc was hidden, he was dead meat, but if he remained silent, he would be tortured unbearably. What was he to do?
In the storefront theatre on Yawarat Road in the Chinatown section of Bangkok, a group of young actors was rehearsing a traditional Peking Opera play in the form of singing so nerve jarring to Western Ears. Hanuman, the monkey king, jumped and kicked, often leaping off tables since this company could not afford elaborate wirework, nor were the enthusiastic college students gifted enough actually to perform the eye-popping stunts for which the Peking Opera is famous.
In fact, stunt work of a much more spectacular fashion was in progress in the rear room of the same building. Behind soundproof doors and walls, a group of Thais was making a movie—a movie for Mr. Black. Twenty-seven nervous, naked Thai men stood in a line stroking their erect penises. Now and again, the camera would pan along the line, stopping to admire this or that drooling hard-on. Then the camera would swing over to the specially built wooden table to which a naked boy was tied. One man fucked the boy, humping his firm young muscular ass in the air as he rammed his cock deep into the spread ass. The boy’s legs were tied wide apart, giving the long line of men easy access to the boy-cunt. When one Thai finished, he would smile and jump off the table, and the next would hop on. However, the gang-fuck was not the most remarkable thing about the scene. One poor innocent boy forced to take the dicks of twenty-eight men was not unusual either, not in the world of underground porno films.
Two things made this film unique, as all of Mr. Black’s artistic efforts were. First, all of his films involved at least some unwilling participants. This added spice and excitement. The boy on the table was the unwilling victim of this gang rape. Second, what made this film outrageously unique was the fact that suspended naked over the boy’s face, held captive by a series of leather straps and ropes, hung the boy’s young and handsome older brother.
Ekk, the kind young hotel clerk and student, tried to ignore the grunts and moans coming from his sweet baby brother, to concentrate on his own particular and humorous problem. You see, Ekk had been given lots of Thai food to eat, very hot food. Then he had been given an enema so large that his normally flat stomach was bloated as if he were a pregnant woman. Then he had been hung with his ass and cock and balls right over his baby brother’s face.
Well, it did not take much imagination to figure out what the climax of this film would involve. Ekk struggled to control the cramps shooting through his guts. Another Thai screamed, and another load of cum splattered the little boy’s pussy. The poor boy sobbed. Ekk sobbed. It would make a great film. Another horny kid climbed on, and another prick slammed into the raw boy-twat. Fucking, that was what it was all about, that’s what life was all about, fucking! Ekk had suspected that from his job in the seedy hotel that rented by the hour, but now, since falling into the clutches of Mr. Black, he was sure of it. There were the fuckers and the fuckees. The fuckers went through life fucking whomever they pleased. The fuckees simply had to learn to take it. The fuckers needed to shoot wads of spunk every day. The fuckees were born to take the fuck slop in their mouths and assholes. If they resisted, they got hurt. Ekk had tried to resist, tried to preserve his dignity. It was no use. He was about to take a shit on the face of his brother, and there was nothing he could do about it.
He held out as long as he could, as long as humanly possible. He really did. His body was coated with a sheen of sweat that dripped down on his brother. He held out until eleven men had fucked his baby brother. He had watched the fat throbbing dicks of eleven men force their way into the no longer virgin ass-cunt. He twisted and stretched his beautiful naked young body in its bindings, trying to find some new position to ease the horrible discomfort pushing its way toward his asshole. Finally, he could feel the pressure at the ass lips themselves. He knew to resist was futile. He screamed, “Phom siachi!” (I’m sorry) and farted, and a huge spray of wet, stinking shit splattered from his ass down on the screaming face of his brother.
The guys behind the cameras roared with laughter. Mr. Black would adore this. They might even get a raise. Now the liquid shit was spraying right into the eyes, nose, and mouth of the boy, and the fucking Thai had jumped back off the table in horror, his dick drooling pre-fuck. When the shitting had ceased, finally, and the cramps had stopped, Ekk was untied and lowered to the floor, with the camera still running. Then he was given an order.
“Now, lick him clean. Lick him clean, or we will bring thirty more men to fuck him. Ekk tried, he really did. Sobbing and gagging, he crawled up onto the table and put his face down to his hysterical baby brother. He could hardly make out the little boy’s features through the brown shit slime covering his beautiful face. He tried to lick it up, but he just could not. He heaved and shook and puked all over his baby brother's face. Then he collapsed, his body lying atop his brother’s in his toilet mess.
“Okay,” the cameraman said to his buddy. “Make some calls. Round up thirty more guys.”
The little boy on the table tried to speak, but incoherent mutterings sputtered from his shit-clogged mouth.
“Don’t worry, little one, some of them are going to fuck you’re your big brother too.”
In the front part of the building, the Monkey King was pondering the route to gaining entrance to the Heavenly Kingdom to steal some peach wine.
The black car pulled up at the alley entrance, and they dragged the small thirteen-year-old Indian boy from the rear seat. It was cold outside, but he wore only a pair of baggy boxer shorts. The driver gunned the engine while the two other men threw the boy ahead of them onto the dirty cement. In the distance, the sign for a new Broadway hit that had closed early still blinked outside a boarded up theatre. Raj could hardly even crawl. They had gone to work on his balls and asshole instead of cutting his dick. They had beaten his balls until they were swollen the size of grapefruit and shoved a wine bottle up his asshole, but that had not scared the tough young hustler. Shit, he had customers rougher than that lots of times. What did they think he was—some kind of pussy? Still, when they had stuck the tip of the knife into his pisshole and threatened to slice his dick in two, he had told them where the disc was. He knew, however, that once they found it, his life was not worth two cents.
“Well, where the fuck is it, cuntlips?” One of the men shouted.
Raj crawled toward the big dumpster.
“Back here, behind the dumpster. In a hole in the wall.”
“Well, suppose you just crawl in and get it for us.”
“Well, suppose you tell us what the fuck you think you doin’ in our alley?” the heavy, dark voice said.
The man in the suit squinted, trying to see into the blackness. Raj arched his back like an animal on the alert and tilted his head. The other goon hung back, one hand going inside his suit coat.
“I wouldn’t do dat,” came another voice, equally as blue and musical as its partner’s.
“Who the fuck are you?” Mr. Black’s goon thundered, hoping his buddy in the black car would hear.
“Jus’ some homeboys who don’ like honkey’s playing wi no little boy in our alley.”
From the dark, a six-foot-seven muscular black man emerged. He wore a loose satin jacket over a tank top. Gold from his neck and ears caught the flicker of the Broadway flop at the end of the block. He wore his jeans baggy and low, with the waistband of his blue briefs clearly visible. He wore a dark blue baseball cap backward. His noble face was fierce and dangerous.
Mr. Black’s agent snickered and kicked at Raj, who rolled over, getting stones and glass in his beautiful brown body.
“You’d best mind your own business, black boy. I’m not afraid of street punks.”
“You be afraid of dis!”
The muscular black whipped out a Smith and Wesson and blew a hole in the goon’s face. The other guy stood in shock, stood there too long because a knife slit his throat before he could draw his own weapon. The driver of the car was already dead.
The tall, beautiful black dude looked down at the cowering Indian boy.
“You okay?” he asked.
Raj was not okay. Not okay at all. He was in a state of super shock.
“You...you killed them because they came into your alley?” he asked.
The black dude smiled, and his large teeth were even and very white.
“Fuck no. We saw you plant the disc and knew sooner or later that some dude would be after it. You know what’s on that, little man?”
Raj crawled to his knees, his face came just about to the bulging crotch in the black guy’s pants.
“Dat disc is da names and faces and addresses of baby fuckers! It’s a whole fucking list of pedophiles. It’s a fucking goldmine is what it is, and we about to stake our claim.”
Several other voices laughed from the dark. Huge black hands reached out and lifted the almost naked boy to his bare feet. He looked up at the gang leader. The guy was young, eighteen, or nineteen at most, but there was a lifetime of violence behind his eyes.
“What’s going to happen to me?” Raj asked.
“I figures you found da disc, so part of the rewards go to you. You gonna be one rich little wog. But I also figures, since I saved your little ass, you owe sometin’ to me.”
Somehow Raj already knew.
“I gonna fuck your tiny little ass with my fourteen-inch dick. I been looking for a new bitchboy, and I figures you fit da bill jus’ fine.”
Mr. Black had his big toe up Aii’s asshole. They sat together in the hut of Aii’s parents, and the elephant boy’s mother cooked thom kha gai over a coal fire in one corner. The kid’s father was in Mae Hong Son giving elephant rides to tourists. Much as they hated the indignity foisted upon the sacred beasts, it was the only way left to support the elephants and the village. Mr. Black wiggled his toe, and the kid giggled.
“Why you must go?”
Mr. Black sighed.
“I must go because I have obligations to attend to in Bangkok and America.
The handsome boy frigged the man’s dick, pre-cum pouring from the pisshole and running down over his hand.
“I not see you long time,” he pouted and squeezed his asshole muscles on the farang’s big toe.
“I tell you, you can come to America with me. I’ll take good care of you.”
The boy laughed, but it was a sad laugh.
“What I do in America? I can ride elephant in America? Every day I ride elephant. I feed elephant. I sleep next to elephant. I smell like elephant. What I do in America?”
Mr. Black sighed.
“Indeed. And what will you do when the modern world intrudes further into Thailand, chopping down forests and building freeways? What will you do? Look, I’m giving your mother two hundred thousand baht. At least, that’s enough to protect you and your elephants until I can figure something out.”
The boy pulled up off the man’s toe. He scrambled atop Mr. Black and rubbed his naked body along the farang, his drooling dick leaving trails of spooge on Mr. Black’s hard stomach.
“I figure out too. I figure out, you only person in whole world for me. Phom ruk khun mak mak!”
The boy scrunched down, took the big white dick in his mouth, and sucked noisily. His mother looked over and smiled. Mr. Black closed his eyes. The hill tribe boy licked up and down Mr. Black’s dick, covering his big low hanging balls with spit and then licking it off. Aii shoved his tongue inside the man’s wide pisshole and licked around, scooping up the pre-fuck. The kid swallowed the dick, feeling the fat cockhead stretch his throat. He milked the nuts while Mr. Black fucked his throat.
In the corner, Aii’s mother began to sing. As Aii shoved three fingers up Mr. Black’s asshole, something the pornographer let very few in the world even attempt, Mr. Black pushed his dick in down to the pubic hair and nuts, stuffing the boy’s face with fat swollen prick. He arched his slender hips and grunted as he pumped a quart of jizz into the kid’s stomach. Jesus-God sex was great, so fucking great, and like some great miracle, it just kept replenishing itself every fucking day. Empty your big balls, and the next day they were fucking full and wanting milking again. What a fucking miracle.
Aii crawled up and put his sweet young face down to Mr. Black’s lips. He pressed his lips to the man’s mouth and kissed long and deep, and released the load of cum from his mouth into Mr. Black’s. Mr. Black tasted his own spunk. He sloshed it around in his mouth and spit it back into the kid’s mouth. They traded spit and fuck slop from mouth to mouth, while the kid rubbed himself off on Mr. Black’s stomach.
The beautiful wild Thai boy drooled spittle and spooge down on Mr. Black’s face, and then lovingly licked it off. Spunk coated his full sensual lips, and spunk hung is strings from his face as he looked down at the farang that he did indeed love. His own teenage dick spirted, and a spray of fuck slop shot up onto Mr. Black’s muscular chest. The boy howled in delight and began to lick up the cum, his dick still spurting and spraying in every direction. Mr. Black shoved four fingers up the kid’s hole, and the boy yelled louder and shot some more.
At last, they both lay exhausted and content, half-asleep. Aii’s mother brought over two wet towels and began to bathe the resting naked bodies. Still later, Aii crawled up to whisper in Mr. Black’s ear.
“What you want? You want something special before you go? What you want me to do special? I do anything for you. You say what you want.”
Mr. Black turned his head to face the boy. A twinkle filled his eyes.
“Well, to be quite honest. I’d like to film you doing something special for me, well, for a client of mine. I wasn’t ever going to ask you because I respect you too much, but since you are offering.”
“What you want? What you want special?”
“Well, I have always wanted to see a teenage boy suck an elephant’s dick!” Aii giggled. “You think I scared? You think I shy? I not shy, but I not have to worry.” He reached down and held Mr. Black’s thick ropey flaccid prick in one brown hand. “I already have very good practice.”
A lone figure, wearing a bulky quilted jacket, walked along a deserted stretch of the Great Wall of China far enough away from the busloads of tourists from Beijing to ensure that no Americans or Chinese on holiday would want him to stop to pose for a photo. He looked fifty at most, but the astounding truth of the matter was that he was well over one hundred years old. Everything about him belied his age. He moved with the energy and grace of a young man. His angular face was smooth, and his hair still black as night. He was a living miracle and a testament to the fact that there are certain secrets to longevity in the East that do work.
Ten minutes more, he walked, enjoying the brisk morning air and the rolling hills leading up to craggy mountains in the distance and snaking through all of this, the eternal monument to man’s power and will and creativity, the endless Great Wall. Eventually, he was met by a younger man who wore a windbreaker over a designer sports shirt and Calvin Klein jeans. China had changed much in the last fifteen years, and yet, the more she changed, the more she stayed the same. It had always been so. The People’s Army had come and gone, and Chairman Mao had turned out to be nothing more than a modern-day Emperor, although the changes he wrought would leave their mark for ages to come.
“Nei Hao,” the young man said, putting one fist into the palm of the other hand.
“Nei Hao,” the old man responded.
The wind whipped at them.
“Sifu, we have a problem with the Gwailo, the white devil, the one you trained and raised as a son.”
The old man closed his eyes as if in pain. He had been through much in his long life, and for much of it, he had tried to hide his feelings. Now, after seeing the fall of the Ching Dynasty, the rise and fall of Chinese nationalism, the long march, and the complications with communism, after having been purged twice without once losing his soul, he felt he was entitled to show his feelings. He wore them on his sleeve these days. He permitted himself to cry over a poem or a plum.
“He’s always had a dark side to his nature. I warned him, his would be a lifelong struggle. What have you learned of him?”
“Master Hung, he uses the teachings of the Shaolin Temple to control and corrupt others. He uses Hon Gar Kung Fu to abuse, hurt, and molest children. He makes his living through the pain of others.”
Master Hung looked out over the countryside. His eyes seemed to see into the past.
“I taught him; it is up to me to stop him.”
“You cannot make the journey. You are too elderly and infirm. Let me go in your place,” the young man begged, dropping to his knees.
The old man laughed, a kind, warm, genuine laugh. It echoed its way down along the wall.
“Mr. Black is very proficient, very well trained, and very dangerous. If he killed you, I would never forgive myself. No, I must go. It is my sacred duty.” Then the musical voice relaxed. “And as for being infirm, my young pup, I can still whip your ass.”
Pete Daniels would never forget his first encounter with Mr. Black. He and Jeff were in Mr. Black’s home off of Sukummvit Road, having some fun with an eighteen-year-old military student. Well, Jeff was having fun with the kid, Pete was watching and pretending to jack off and enjoy the sex games. Jeff had the bare-assed young man on the bed with his hands lashed behind his back. The boy’s hands rested in the arched hollow just above the swell of his firm young ass cheeks. The kid had been gagged with an old jockstrap. Jeff always seemed to have plenty of them handy. Jeff, too, was naked, and his erect prick was bouncing and dripping as he danced around the bed. Pete had his clothing on, but his hard cock stuck out through his trousers, and he frigged it as he watched Jeff play.
They had met the young soldier in a bar and had gotten him drunk enough to get him to their house. Pete often wondered what happened to these boys and young men after the games were finished. He did not quite have the guts to ask Jeff. Pete did know that the FBI had better move in soon, as he could not take much more of this undercover perversion.
Jeff had gotten two chopsticks and shoved them up the boy’s tight virgin asshole. It was apparent from the kid’s groans and struggles that he was in severe pain. Jeff then spread the chopsticks apart, stretching the boy’s rectum wide open. He handled the chopsticks like joysticks on a Nintendo set. The sweating eighteen-year-old boy responded to Jeff’s controls by groaning as he writhed and bucked in pain. Every once in a while, Jeff would slap the firm ass cheeks until they were dark red.
“I don’t think he’s into rough sex,” Pete observed.
“I certainly hope not. That’s what makes it fun. Wait until we shove both of our dicks up his hole at the same time. He’ll be ready to be the slut of the barracks by the time we finish with him. Whoops, that alligator clip came off his nipple with all his twisting and turning, do you wanna do the honors, Pete?”
With trembling hand and sick stomach, and pretending all the while to enjoy himself, Pete Daniels, FBI agent undercover, applied the metal clamp to the poor kid’s stretched pouty nipple. The boy’s eyes half-closed in new pain as the teeth bit into his titty. Spit ran from his full lips. Pete looked down to make sure that the other two alligator clips were still attached to the young soldier’s piss lips. One toothed prong of each clip had been shoved up inside his urethra, the other bit into the outside of the dickhead.
“I think his cunt is ready for something larger, like a Singha Beer bottle,” Jeff commented, draining the beer he was currently drinking.
The boy on the bed groaned. Just then, the door opened, and Pete got his first glimpse of Mr. Black. His hair was dark now, its natural color, but still short and choppy. He had the slight shadow of an unshaved day on his strong square chin. He wore tight jeans that showed off a huge basket, hiking boots, and a blue jean shirt, open halfway down his chest to reveal three Thai Buddhist gold charms. He carried a canvas bag, which he tossed onto a chair. Jeff beamed.
“Uncle, you’re just in time for fun and games. This is Pete Daniels, one of our new clients.”
Mr. Black stretched out his long arm and clasped Pete’s hand in a strong, sure grip. The flashing eyes seemed to bore right through him, sizing him up in an instant.
“I gotta piss. I’ve had to piss all the way in from the airport in that fucking Bangkok afternoon traffic.”
Mr. Black strode to the bed, and seemingly without even thinking about it, tore the jockstrap out of the mouth of the sobbing soldier. Mr. Black opened his jeans, took out a huge flaccid cock, almost a thick as the Singha beer bottle, and slid the dick right into the soldier’s mouth, and then relaxed and pissed into the boy’s mouth. The bound kid on the bed choked and gagged, but Mr. Black grabbed the black hair and pressed the young face into his pissing crotch.
“Watch his teeth, Uncle. I don’t think he’s ever taken piss before.”
Mr. Black’s handsome mouth crooked into a sardonic smile.
“I don’t think he’ll bite. I don’t think he’d dare bite, will you, my cute little cunt? He’s darling, where’d you get him?”
“We picked him up at the Barbieri Bar on Suriwong Road. He’s a military cadet of some kind. Wanna fuck him?”
Mr. Black finished his piss and shook his big dick. The last drops of urine fell onto the terrified face of the boy on the bed.
“Unfortunately, there is no time for fun and games. You’re catching the next plane back to New York. All hell has broken loose. Three of our men were found dead in an alley off Fifty-Second and Eighth. It looks like a gang killing. We know it had to do with the missing computer disc. That disc is probably in the hands of the ‘Hofuckers,’ I think that’s the name of the stupid nigger gang. Well, they have no idea of the time bomb they are holding in their dumbassed high school dropout hands. You’ve got to get that disc back.”
Jeff Black lost his erection, but pre-cum dribbled from his pisshole, as his face took on the petulant leer of a rejected suitor.
“I’m sorry to meet you, Mr. Daniels, under these challenging conditions. I assure you that your confidentiality and security are in no way compromised by this unfortunate setback in our operations. Perhaps, I can show you around Bangkok for a few days in my nephew’s absence.”
Mr. Black smiled. Pete Daniels smiled. At last, he was in direct contact. Now, it would be only a matter of days before the FBI moved in. Jeff, on the other hand, was not pleased.
“Uncle, I just got here. I’ve been working nonstop for months, what with college and the organization, surely a few days can’t matter.”
Mr. Black turned to face his nephew, the flaccid penis still hanging from his trouser fly, a slightly incongruent influence.
“You don’t seem to understand, Jeff. This is the most urgent priority. We have the name of the gang, and we know their turf. We have to move in on them before security demands that we make a move on the names on the disc.
“You see, Mr. Daniels, just for your own comfort, we never put the names of our clients on any paper or computer, but Dr. Deter Dittman, it seems was trying to make some exchanges of young male cunt meat without our blessings, so he made his own arrangements. Now you see, this is all the more reason to only trust Mr. Black’s organization. We ensure your safety. These weak-willed and penny-pinching perverts who want hot young boy ass at a discount rate didn’t abide by our rules, so, unfortunately, to protect the rest of us, drastic measures may have to be taken.
“Jeff, I want you on a plane tonight. I want this entire matter cleared up within the week. If the niggers have already begun their extortion racket on the names on the disc, then you will have to arrange to eliminate those sensitive clients.”
“No, Uncle. I brought Pete here for a holiday, and I intend to have one. You go back to New York, and you get rid of the Motherfuckers or whatever their names are. You dance all over the fucking globe, and I do all the dirty work.”
Mr. Black’s eyes grew darker. His body relaxed even more, shoulders low, hips at ease. Jeff, the college jock, must have had a few screws loose. Even Pete could tell that Mr. Black was in a somewhat agitated state and that such a state was not the norm for the pornographer. Jeff faced his uncle, rather ridiculous in his handsome but naked state.
“Jeff, I don’t like your tone. I think, perhaps, your attachment to Mr. Daniels here has colored your logic. Remember, Jeff, to whom you owe your very life. Remember who first fucked your tiny ass when you were eight. Remember when my brother—your father—found out and tried to kill me how I forced him to fuck you, his own son. Remember who taught you the pleasure of wrapping your prepubescent lips around a fat dripping dick, who first corralled your schoolmates for you to abuse and torture and fuck at your pleasure. Remember who got rid of Alan Weismann so that you would become president of your fraternity. Remember who drugged your best buddy from high school so that you could ass rape him on his wedding night.
“And now you shirk your responsibility for a holiday?” The voice which had begun low and moderate had risen during this speech until it filled the room with a horrifying bellow. “Perhaps you need a reminder of who is in charge here!”
It was what is called a ‘no shadow’ kick. The Italian loafer foot lashed out so quickly that had it been executed outdoors, no shadow would have followed it. Mr. Black caught the college jock low in the stomach, almost in the groin. Jeff made a whuff sound and flew at least five feet across the room into a dresser. The mirror shattered, before the glass fell on the college jock, his uncle had grabbed him and threw him onto the floor.
The kid was big and muscular, but no match for his uncle. He was like a rag doll in his uncle’s hands. Mr. Black flipped the young man onto his stomach, whipped his own belt from his trousers, tied the jock’s hands behind his back, similar to the Thai cadet on the bed, and flipped him over onto his ass again in a matter of seconds.
“Who taught you the pleasures of the flesh and the religion of cock? Who channeled your mind to focus on the sins of the flesh and power of sexual control? Who trusted in you and believed in you, and who put you in charge of east coast operations?”
Jeff was in a state of shock. He could not even form words. His feeble attempts at utterances were ignored by Mr. Black who moved swiftly to the bed, withdrew the chopsticks from the Thai kid’s asshole, and returned to his nephew on the floor all in the blink of an eye. He lifted Jeff’s hefty flaccid dick in one hand and with the other shoved a wooden chopstick into the pisshole of the young man’s cock. Jeff shook his head like a swimmer coming from the pool, and sweat splashed across the room. He opened his mouth, and a scream emerged two octaves higher than his normal speaking voice, as Mr. Black shoved the chopstick deep and hard into the young man’s pisshole, and then without a flicker of mercy in his cold dark eyes, Mr. Black took the second chopstick and wedged that into the piss lips next to the first.
No dick hole could be stretched that wide. Pete gagged as sympathy pain shot through his own wilted prick. The bound boy on the bed stared in utter horror.
Jeff, the big tough college jock, president of the TKEs, and master at dealing out pain, was reduced in an instant to a mewling, puking infant. Two wooden chopsticks stuck out of his tortured penis, and still, his uncle was not finished. He grabbed the wooden sticks and separated them, forcing the dick lips farther and farther apart. Jeff’s scream grew even higher, more unnatural. His body flopped about on the oriental carpet like a fish out of water.
“When I tell you to do something, you will do it.
Mr. Black reached up and slapped the kid’s face five times very hard, just to keep him alert. Then he rose and unbuckled his trousers.
“Remember when you were ten, and I told you to kill your puppy as a test. Remember when you were eleven, and I taught you to eat your own shit. These were lessons handed down to me by my own father. Important lessons. Either you are broken, or you learn to survive and break others. To each being in an order, there is a higher order. At the top can be only one. I am the One! Someday you will be the One, but not yet. You are not ready. You have too much pride. I have no pride, Jeff, odd as that may seem I have no pride! Only power! Pride is useless, as useless as a fucked out whore boy. Pride saps power!”
Mr. Black’s prick was now huge, huge, and angry, the cockhead as big as a fist. He knelt down and roughly spread the ass cheeks of his nephew after first throwing the kid’s strong muscular legs back over his own chest. The college jock’s pink-brown rectum hole throbbed and puckered in trepidation. The kid’s lips moved, but words would not form on the foam-flecked mouth. His nose ran, and his eyes rolled in fear.
Mr. Black placed his drooling dickhead at the hole, which seemed tiny by comparison and shoved. The cock butted up against the jock pussy. The boy wailed, tears poured down his smooth tan cheeks, his shoulders tightened, and his tits fairly burst. His dick flopped back and forth with two chopsticks sticking from it. His breathing was shallow and rapid like a fucking dog in heat.
His uncle rammed his dickhead against the hole until it popped through into the ass with an audible sound of a champagne bottle being opened. Jeff gulped air as, inch by inch, the gargantuan dick snaked into his inner ass, stretching the cunt lining and forcing the rectum walls apart. Mr. Black pushed the jock’s legs back further until the boy’s own cock hung over his face.
“Take the chopsticks in your mouth, fuckslop!” The boy’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, his eyes were unfocused. “Do it Asswipe, or you will never get up off of this floor, so help me, Buddha! “
Jeff, whose entire body was shaking so hard that his back literally thumped on the carpet, raised his head and took the ends of the chopsticks into his drooling foam-flecked mouth. His breaths were now reduced to helpless gasps.
“Now fuck yourself in the dick with the chopsticks while I fuck your worthless cunt!”
Mr. Black rutted hard and fast like an animal. This was not a pleasure fuck. It was a power fuck, a wrathful fuck, a fuck to prove who was King of the Beasts! He was balls deep and pushing as hard as he could. The helpless boy, bent in two, used his teeth to pull and push the chopsticks in and out of his pisshole as best he could. The pain must have been excruciating. When the dick had shriveled and wilted so much that a decent dick fucking was impossible, Mr. Black held the cock with one hand so his nephew could still fuck the wooden sticks deeply into the penis channel!
“I taught you as a child that your pain doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is pleasing me. Have you forgotten so soon?”
Mr. Black’s big balls thudded against the jock’s ass, and Pete Daniels found his own cock painfully erect. He enjoyed seeing the sadistic young college kid getting a taste of his own medicine. It felt good, fantastic even. Pete was in complete awe of Mr. Black’s power and majesty. The man’s aura filled the entire room. Pete suddenly felt a terrible painful need to release his own sexual cravings. He started to masturbate but found that pitifully shallow next to the painful power fuck on the floor.
Pete’s eyes then caught sight of the bound Thai cadet on the bed. The kid’s ass suddenly looked amazingly inviting, hotter than any pussy Pete had ever fucked. And what the fuck, it had already been stretched by the chopsticks, so it was hardly like violating a boy’s virgin ass. And besides, it would be advantageous for his cover. It would establish him right in front of Mr. Black as a boy-fucking molesting ass rapist.
Pete tore at his clothes, and before Mr. Black had thrust his throbbing dick into his nephew’s ass half a dozen times, the FBI agent was on top of the bed, poking his own spraying prick at the tender brown ass pucker of the virgin military cadet.
The Thai boy sobbed, but Pete was not to be dissuaded. His disguise and the entire mission were at stake. He roughly rammed his painfully erect prick into the pink ass pucker of the bound boy on the bed, and soon both fuckers had taken up the same rhythm as their bodies slammed into those of their victims.
Pete was not sure when Mr. Black shot his load, but he certainly enjoyed his own orgasm. He filled the young Thai ass to overflowing, then pulled out and for good measure and so that Mr. Black would not think him a wimp, he made the cadet suck his limp, slimy dick clean of cum, shit and ass spooge.
At some point, he looked over from the bed to see Mr. Black standing and wiping his spent prick clean in the hair of his nephew. Even in its after-fuck state, the impressive prick was enormous and thick, rubbery like a fucking garden hose and trailing strings of fuck down to the floor.
“Now, Jeff, you have one-half hour to get your ass showered and into a limo, and on your way to the airport, do you understand?”
“Yes, Uncle,” the boy murmured as best he could, chopsticks still sticking from his dick hole, ass running rivers of cum as he began to crawl from the room.
“And, Jeff, don’t disappoint me in New York.”
As the jock crawled from the room, big balls swinging between spread legs, completely humbled by his master, a calmer Mr. Black turned to Pete Daniels on the bed.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of Jeff. He really is a good boy, but like so many kids nowadays, selfish and headstrong, so every once and a while, a little discipline is in order. Now, tell me, Pete, do you dance?”
Pete was resting his head on the naked hip of the Thai Military cadet.
“Yes, dance. Because tonight, I am taking you, as my guest here in Bangkok, to the most extraordinary dance club in the world. It’s called NASA Space Dome, and it’s unlike anything you have ever seen. Hundreds of beautiful people gather there each evening to dance and drink while flirting the night away. People fly in from all over the world, movie stars, authors, sports figures. It’s completely bisexual and free. In fact, they have beautiful boys stationed in the men’s rooms whose only job is to massage your neck and ass cheeks while you take a piss. Jeff has obligation back in the States, but there’s no sense we shouldn’t enjoy ourselves.”
Igor Tausniansky appeared to be a poor Russian immigrant living in a small apartment in Brooklyn, but he also had a villa on the French Riviera, a condo in Florida, and a dacha in Ukraine. In New York, he owned a small hand laundry, barely making enough to ends meet. In Vienna, he threw lavish parties for the boys in the opera-ballet.
Igor was one of the new post-communism Russians. You see, after America proudly aided in the fall of communist Russia and brought freedom to a country that then floundered and stumbled in its own pathetic uncontrolled euphoria, Igor and others, who were known by the name of Russian Mafia, moved in to take even stronger control over the lives of the poor than had been the case under the communists. Many of them were the same former KGB agents who had caused the population to live in fear for so many years.
While America slapped itself on the back and pontificated that Russia was now free, thousands of people starved, and children were sold into prostitution. On a good day in Red Square, a watchful pedophile could spot a couple of hundred children selling their asses for bread. Ah, yes, the glories of capitalism.
Igor sold his wares in America, land of the free. He sold videos of thirteen-year-old boys being hung naked by the wrists. Heavy weights hung from the screaming boys’ nut sacks. Huge dildos were shoved up sweet tender pink Russian boy asses, asses whipped until they drew blood. Teenage boys were made to copulate together, then with animals, sometimes with their own fathers for a few scraps of bread, but the videos sold for hundreds on Eighth Avenue.
Sexy young Russian lads with locks of hair falling over their shit-streaked faces were fed on only feces for weeks at a time, all of this lovingly captured on film for the avid western viewer. Boys were dressed as girls. Some were turned into girls. The girl-boys were as cheap as vodka, the only other cheap thing in a society with a Wild West mentality and a freedom it had never been prepared to handle.
Gypsy cafes now had bare-assed boys with hard-ons gyrating their hips and standing on the tables amid the meager meat-filled dumplings and cucumber slices. Whole cucumbers were fucked into the boys’ assholes as they danced to judge who would best suit which big Russian dick. And the price of a boy’s ass was less than that of a can of Coke! People like Igor Tausniansky knew that society is driven by fear and lust and no matter who ruled that a hard dick still needed to shoot its load, so they profited.
When he was in New York, Igor Tausniansky still needed to relieve his throbbing uncut boner, and so it was that one day in early spring, he opened his apartment room door to admit a small brown thirteen-year-old Indian boy.
Igor Tausniansky’s name had been on the disc. He was the first hit on the list of Raj and his new black business partners.
The booming music was so loud that normal conversation was impossible. Five hundred young sweaty bouncy bodies gyrated on the dance floor to a mixture of American, Indian, Chinese, Thai, and European pop, while a wall-to-wall video screen on one end of the large room flashed the clubs own edited versions of the songs. The D.J. booth was designed to resemble a space station, and the customer tables were on tiers hovering over the floor. This was NASA Space Dome Dance Club, one of the most famous in the world. At midnight, a giant spaceship with videos in the windows would glide across the ceiling to hover over the dance floor and drop balloons.
The crowd was high on energy, music, drugs, and booze. It was a United Nations of partygoers. Mr. Black was dressed in pleated black trousers of a light summer material and a black Chinese silk shirt. Pete wore jeans and a lightweight pullover that hugged his muscular chest. Two pretty hot guys out for a night on the town. The eyes of both women and men turned. At NASA, lots of guys danced with other guys, and although it was not officially a gay bar, it did the job better than most. About two-thirds of the clientele was Thai, the rest a collection from all over the world.
It was early in the evening when Mr. Black, who had said nothing of any personal consequence to Pete, although he had been polite and witty, spotted the two American surfer dude types. They were about nineteen or twenty-years-old, one with a mop of curly blond hair, the other with a mess of black. They both had tan buff bodies. They wore shorts and tank tops, very inappropriate for Thai evenings, as the Thai people only wear shorts to the beach or in resort towns. These dudes couldn’t have cared less. They only had eyes for the two Thai girls they danced with and mauled, and a taste for Thai beer. They were slightly bombed.
“I promise you an evening of extreme gratification,” Mr. Black pronounced to Pete, as they moved across the jam-packed dance floor to place himself near the American surfers.
“American?” Mr. Black beamed at the two guys who stopped dancing to turn their heads at the voice. “Are you Americans?”
“Dude,” the blond kid grinned and raised his hand to high five Mr. Black. The boy was extraordinarily beautiful, an American golden boy jock, “where you from?”
“New York, mostly,” Mr. Black answered.
“Awesome, we’re from California.”
He kept one hand around his chick, which was uncomfortable for the Thai girl since men and women did not touch intimately in public in Thailand, but fuck it, a girl had to make a living, and this farang was at least good looking. He might be a really nice fuck for a change.
“I’m Andy, and this is Brian, we’re biking across Southeast Asia.”
Pete had to admit that the kid had a fucking winning smile.
“Must be difficult with all that ocean...”
That one went right over Andy’s head, who just stood there looking really dumb and really cute. His body was covered with a sheen of dance sweat and looked as golden as honey. His large nipples could clearly be seen through the tight tank top.
Brian blinked a lot. He seemed moderately drunk, but still pretty. His black hair had fallen over his face, all curly like bedsprings. His body was a bit better defined than that of his buddy. His pecs were slabs and his nipples smaller and harder, easily seen through his sweat-soaked tank top.
“Brian...” the tall, dark-haired one said his own name for no particular reason.
“I’m Jason Black, and this is my friend from America, Pete Daniels.” Pete wondered if Jason was really Mr. Black’s first name. Something else to file away. “May I buy you and your girls a round of drinks?”
“Fuck, yeah, we’re very low on money right now. Can hardly fork over the eight bucks for a Thai fuckhole, but you don’t get shit over here if you don’t pay for it,” Andy said all this with an innocent, broad, shit-eating grin as he squeezed the tit of his rent girl.
“Come, come, a pair of good-looking boys like you should have no trouble picking up free pussy in this city. I know lots of young ladies who would wet their panties for hot hunks like you.”
“Well, we sure as hell don’t know where to find them. I mean, dude, you can’t just go up to a Thai girl and talk to her on the street. And they certainly won’t fuck on the first date, and we haven’t got much time. Don’t get me wrong, though, as some of these bar girls are really sweet and shit. For twenty bucks, they’ll even do weird shit like lick our asses and let us piss on them. You know, stuff our American girlfriends wouldn’t dream of.”
Mr. Black had Andy’s eyes and would not let go. The kid was kind of falling into the eyes. In fact, his drunken body actually fell forward into Mr. Black’s arms. Everyone laughed as the kid was steadied.
“Oh, wow, I’m a little drunk. Hey, you know where I can get some good weed around here. The Thais are very protective of their drugs.”
“That’s because being caught with drugs means an automatic prison sentence and can even mean the death penalty.”
“No, shit?” Brian said and then laughed at his inadvertent joke. “Yeah...that’s the problem, no shit!”
Mr. Black beamed.
“However, for two adventurous American boys such as yourselves, I could easily arrange something.”
Both boys just about climbed over the swaying bodies on the dance floor into Mr. Black’s arms.
“We don’t have a lot of cash, dude,” Andy advised.
“Look, boys, I’m loaded. And I’m stuck over here on work. I miss American camaraderie. What say we party; the drinks and nose candy will be on me.”
“Fuck it...coke? Oh, that would be sweet. What do you say, Brian?”
“Only we can’t invite the girls. If word of the drugs got back to their fuck bars, I could get in trouble.”
Brian and Andy conferred, not very privately.
“Fuck the cunts, we can screw twat any night. How often do we get to snort?”
Andy beamed that gorgeous All American boy smile.
“Fucking A. I agree one hundred percent.”
And it was just that easy for Pete and his companion to pick up two hunky American boys, I would say just out of short pants except they still wore short pants—khaki shorts—that showed off their nice firm asses, big baskets, and their strong tan legs. Mr. Black informed Pete that he had special plans for these two cute boys. Pete was once again in a state of shock.
They arrived via taxi at another one of Mr. Black’s abodes in Bangkok, this one a condo that overlooked the city. It had two large bedrooms, a balcony that ran the length of the condo, an entertainment complex that could serve as a professional recording studio, a huge wall TV, a fully stocked kitchen with a cooking island, a sunken living room and even a small glassed-in greenhouse. The two American boys were clearly very impressed. Mr. Black made a quick phone call and then poured drinks and put out the lines of coke. Cameras hidden in the walls whirred as the boys dusted their cute tan faces with powder. They then sat back side by side on the couch, legs spread and extended, heads back in bliss, a picture of loveliness. Mr. Black pointed out the bulging dick lumps of the two travelers to Pete.
“Oh, wow, this shit is ace...” Andy mused, smiling to himself, his golden head resting on one strong arm, the other casually resting on his muscular thigh.
The doorbell rang. Mr. Black smiled at Pete as he admitted a smallish middle-aged Thai man in a tan uniform.
“Now the fun starts.”
“Boys, Andy, Brian, this is Inspector Tran from the Bangkok police. I’m afraid you boys are under arrest.”
It took almost a minute for the cute jocks to come down. They shook their heads and looked at each other, then at Mr. Black and Pete, and then finally, at Inspector Tran, who stood and smiled, nodding his head.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andy asked.
Pete liked the fact that Brian was the tall, silent type.
“No joke. I’m afraid you boys are looking at twenty or twenty-five years in prison here in Thailand, no reprieve, no parole, no time off for good behavior. The prisons here are really rough too. The barracks are little more than holes where up to forty men sleep on the floor and use one toilet in the middle of the room. It’s pretty much hell on earth. And let’s not waste time, shall we? We’ve got videos of your snorting and holding the stuff, and fingerprints on the bags, the whole megillah, so, boys, say goodbye to freedom. I’ll be glad to phone your folks back home for you as the Thai penal system doesn’t allow for a phone call.”
Brian tried to stand but tumbled back into the couch.
“You set us up. You framed us.”
Mr. Black nodded affirmatively.
Pete felt so bad for the two boys. He wished he could call the FBI at once to end this charade.
“Why? What do you want? We already told you we don’t have much money. We could wire home for some, but our folks aren’t rich.”
“Look around you, you big handsome dumb cunt. Does it look like I need money? I seek entertainment…thrills…adventure. You’re tonight’s entertainment.”
Brian looked at Andy and scowled.
“I told you in the taxi, I thought the guy was a fag.”
“Right again. I am a fag, and Pete here is a fag, and Inspector Tran is bisexual, to say the least. Oh, I might add that if you are carted off to prison, don’t expect a trial for six months, at least, since the court is backed up. Also, Inspector Tran will break both your legs to ensure you don’t try to run off.”
Andy screwed up his handsome mug, looking even dumber and cuter.
“So what do you want? Tell us, man. You gonna do something to us?”
Mr. Black smiled indulgently at Andy.
“No, sir, we’re not going to touch you.” This surprised Pete. “I’m going to make a movie. Film the two of you. You two boys are going to fuck each other for us.”
Andy shook his head. Brian closed his eyes.
“What the fuck? This is a joke, right? You want us to make a fuck movie for you?”
“That’s right. And if you do everything we say and do it well, and the movie turns out to be a good one, we allow you to leave and forget all about tonight. If you don’t cooperate, we break your legs and haul you off to jail.”
“You don’t understand, man...we’re straight. We’re not gay,” Brian said.
“You don’t understand…man. That’s the whole idea. That’s the fun of it. I want to see two straight jock boys forced to commit acts of a homosexual nature with each other. That’s the party.”
“I won’t do it,” Andy sputtered.
“Okay. Mr. Tran here is an expert at Mue Thai, so it shouldn’t take but one or two kicks to break your legs. I’ll call for a police wagon.”
Mr. Black walked to the telephone. Inspector Tran moved in, kicking his leg to stretch it.
“Wait a minute...wait a minute,” Andy screamed, crawling along the couch to get away from the Thai policeman. Brian just sat there looking good enough to eat. Andy turned to his friend. “Bri...we got to do it.”
“Do what?” the pretty black-haired American asked his best buddy.
“Whatever...whatever he wants, man. I ain’t going to jail. That’s for sure. You see that movie about those chicks in Thai prison. I’m not going to jail!”
He still had a little coke on his nose. It was really darling.
“Andy, I’m not doing no queer stuff. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I don’t know how. Besides, just the thought of it makes me sick. I would puke.”
“Bathrooms are to the left. Don’t worry, young man. I’ll instruct you every step of the way. You boys are best friends, so you might even enjoy the experience. Besides, how bad can it be? An hour or two of sex with a good buddy, then c’est fini!”
Andy got tears in his big blues.
“Please…isn’t there some other way?”
Mr. Black was just finishing shaking a martini for Pete and himself.
“There are lots of ways, thousands of ways for thousands of tastes. This is my way. This is what I want. I want to see you two cute American jocks stripped off and sucking each other’s cocks. Now let’s get to it, shall we?”
Brian gagged and ran to the bathroom. Two minutes later, he staggered out, looking a bit paler than when he went in. Mr. Black smiled at him.
“I do hope you used mouth wash. I will want you to kiss Andy, you know.”
Andy buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Brian just stood in the center of the room in his hiking shorts and a tank top, looking hunky and humiliated.
“Well, let’s get to it, shall we? We don’t have all night. There are four cameras on you at the moment, so don’t worry about your best angles or anything. Let’s just take off our clothing, shall we? Come on, boys. Don’t force us to get rough.”
Andy lifted his tear-streaked face.
“You want me to take off my clothes?”
Mr. Black was losing his patience.
“What do you have for a brain, a twat? You can’t very well get fucked in the ass by your best friend with your clothes on, can you?”
Andy stumbled to his feet.
“I can’t get fucked in the ass. I’m too tight. It would kill me.”
“It won’t kill you. It will hurt like hell is all. How do you think those girlfriends of you feel when you stick your big dicks into them?”
“That’s different. That’s what girls are for.”
“You have ten seconds to start stripping, or I call for the police van, and you don’t get a second chance.”
Like a rehearsed strip show, both boys peeled off their tank tops. They both had very nice bodies. Brian’s body was a bit more muscular than Andy’s was, and both young men either shaved their chests or were naturally hairless. Andy had large wide pouty nipples, Brian’s more pointed and pebble-like. Both boys had smooth, hard stomachs with trails of hair going down into their shorts. Brian unbuckled his sandals while Andy kicked his off. They had good strong, wide feet, both of them. Nice, big, well-muscled boys with scared little boy faces all tear-stained with quivering lips and sniffing noses. They stood there in their shorts like statues, not moving other than their eyes going from each other to Mr. Black.
“Fine. You’re very nice looking. Now take off your pants.”
With trembling fingers, they undid their shorts and let them fall. Andy wore no underwear. His big blond-haired prick swung thick and heavy, a fat circumcised dickhead hanging over two low hanging plump balls. A blond bush framed the prick and nuts, which were very pretty and very large. Brian wore checkered boxer shorts. He made no attempt to remove them.
“Now, now, now, Brian, you mustn’t be shy. Andy here is showing the camera his fine fat big boy dick, so it’s the least you can do. I’ve got a good idea. Andy, why don’t you help Brian take off his shorts? Why don’t you take them off for him with your teeth?”
“That’s sick, man. That’s disgusting.”
Andy stood one hand covering his big dick the best he could. There was too much dick for the hand, and the fat balls hung out.
“Oh, come now, that’s nothing. We’ve hardly begun. Now the very next time you resist an order of mine, I go to the phone, and there is no backing down. Keep that in mind. I am a man of my word. Now get on your fucking knees and peel down his underwear using only your teeth. Now!”
The frightened blond boy sank to his knees. He crawled over to his buddy, who stood with eyes closed. Andy looked up at his best friend. Then he looked at the boxer shorts. He chose a place on the right hip to begin. He bit the material and tugged. The boxer shorts came down a bit, but the kid’s dick was too big, and it kept the material from sliding.
Andy whimpered and moved his mouth closer to the crotch. He could smell his friend’s prick and balls. Smell the crotch sweat. A bit of black pubic hair showed over the top of the shorts. Andy went down to the leg opening and tugged there with his teeth. The dick still held the material up.
Brian bounced on his naked feet and humped his ass, but the shorts would not come down. Andy crawled around to the rear of his buddy, his own muscular ass cheeks rolling as he crawled, and took hold of the back of the shorts. Now Andy could smell the boy’s ass crack, and he gagged as he tugged the shorts to below the ass cheeks. Now the jock’s dick was the only thing keeping the underpants from falling.
“Hurry up, man! Get it over with,” Brian whined.
“I am trying, you goddamned fucker,” Andy shouted.
Mr. Black and Inspector Tran laughed. Pete looked on, as Andy bit the front of the shorts and yanked down as fast as he could. Unfortunately, he caught some of Brian’s black pubic hair, and the boy screamed as a few cock hairs were tugged out along with the material. The underpants fell to the ground, revealing a nice flaccid uncut six-inch prick and a set of full, round nuts. While the balls did not hang as low in the sack as Andy’s, they were just as plump.
“Well done, boys, you see that wasn’t so very bad, now was it? Now stand up, Andy. Now I want the two of you to kiss each other passionately. I want a nice long tongue kiss. Make sure you really swap the spit. And while you kiss, I want you to run your hands over each other’s bodies. Make this a good scene, fellas.”
The two friends looked at each other awkwardly. They put their faces close, and they bumped noses and could not figure out who should go which way. Problems they never had faced kissing chicks. At last, their full soft lips connected. They kissed each other for the first time in their lives, kissed another male for the first time. Their bodies trembled.
“Come on, open those mouths. Get those tongues into action. Pretend you are kissing your girlfriends back home. Come on, boys, I wanna see you swapping some spit.”
Andy started to gag and had to back away, but after a second, they were at it again. Kissing like two little children experimenting for the first time.
“I won’t tell you again, you fuckwads. Open your fucking mouths!”
Both big tough jocks were crying heavily now as they opened their mouths to accept each other’s tongues. They both gagged but kept on kissing.
“Now, run your hands over each other’s bodies.”
The two tan American boys stiffly slid their hands over each other’s arms and legs.
“Come on, feel each other’s asses. Who’s going to wanna watch this movie if it’s so damn dull?”
The boys stiffly squeezed each other’s ass cheeks, tears running down their faces as they kissed.
“Good, now slide a finger in the ass crack. Go on. Pretend it’s your girlfriend’s twat. Now with your other hand, cup your buddy’s nuts. Hold his scrotum while you kiss and rub his ass crack. Don’t stop now, boys. You don’t want to get me angry. Now hold each other’s dicks and slowly start to pump them. Keep kissing.
“Oh, Andy, stop blubbering for Christ’s sake. So you’re tongue kissing a guy and pumping his dick, so what? You’d think I was giving you hormone shots and breast implants or something, which I have been known to do to uncooperative boy cunts. Good! Look, Brian is throwing a boner!
“Brian, you’ll have to do better on Andy’s big dick. He’s still quite soft. Maybe you should use your mouth, Brian.”
Brian tore his lips from those of his buddy.
“No, please, sir...not that.”
“Now, Bri baby, we don’t wanna end up in a Thai prison, do we? Get on your knees, Brian. Look at Andy’s big fat flaccid dick. It doesn’t wanna get hard, does it?”
“Why the fuck won’t you get hard?” Brian screamed, reaching up and yanking hard on his pal’s cock.
“I can’t help it, man. I’m not queer.”
Andy was crying, looking down at his buddy and his dick inches from his friend’s face. Andy’s tears dropped down onto Brian’s face.
“Brian, maybe if you just kissed it a little, it would get hard.”
“Oh, please, sir...please...don’t make me kiss a guy’s dick. Please don’t make me kiss a guy’s dick.”
“I’ll bet when the girls kiss his dick, it gets hard, doesn’t it, Andy? Why don’t you kiss his dick a little, Brian, and see if that helps.”
The handsome black-haired jock made whimpering noises like a wounded animal as he leaned in and planted a quick kiss on the stalk of the flaccid dick.
“Oh, now a little peck like that won’t do much good, Brian. Is that how you kiss your girlfriends? No, give the dick a nice long smooch. Open your mouth a little and kiss the dick all over, right on the nice fat cockhead too. Go on.”
Brian, bare-assed on the expensive Oriental carpet, his body heaving, wracked with sobs, shook his head.
“I can’t kiss a guy’s prick, I just can’t.”
“Kiss it, you motherfucker. I don’t wanna go to prison. Kiss my fucking cock,” Andy hissed.
“You heard your friend, kiss it, you motherfucker. Have you really fucked your mother, Brian, or was that just an expression Andy was using? Some boys do fuck their own mothers, you know, but not you. You seem too wholesome. Kiss his cock, Brian.”
Brian put his tear-soaked face up to his friend’s crotch and kissed the dick. At first, he gagged, but soon he was kissing the prick all over, even on the cockhead. He forced himself to be brave.
“It’s still not getting hard. That is one stubborn dick. Maybe if you sucked it a little. What do you think, Brian? Do you think if you sucked on his dick a little, it would get hard?”
Brian looked up at Mr. Black. His face was calm, and his eyes were dead. He knew this was just the beginning. He knew he would be forced to do unspeakable things this night. He opened his mouth and placed his lips around the fat flaccid cockhead of his friend.
“There we go. Very nice. Now suck. Show the cameras what a good cocksucker you can be. Oh, very nice, Brian. It looks to me like you’ve done this before, but perhaps you’re just a natural. Don’t be shy about making sloppy piggy sounds while you suck, it’s only normal. How does that dick taste, Brian, all right?
“I considered having you boys shower first, you know, after all that dancing and all, but you cocked around so much before we got going that there just wasn’t time. Besides, a little dick and ball sweat never hurt anyone.
“Why don’t you lick his balls for him, Brian, show what a good pal you are? Andy would like it if you licked his balls for him. Oh, look, his dick is getting all hard.
“What a nice big cunt stuffer you have, Andy. That’s more like it. Pump your prick, Andy, while Brian licks your balls.
“How does that ball bag taste, Brian, kind of salty? It’s an acquired taste, so different from the taste of pussy, isn’t it?
“Here, I’ll bet Brian would like his dick and balls licked too. So why don’t you boys lie on the floor and sixty -nine each other for us. That’s right. Put your faces right in each other’s dicks and suck each other’s cocks.
“Don’t be shy, Andy. After all, Brian sucked your cock. Friends should share and share alike.”
Mr. Black watched the two boys on the floor and felt his own hard dick through his pants. Inspector Tran held his small brown dick in his hand and was masturbating. Pete just stood there with a full drink in his hand, watching.
“Andy, you’re not licking Brian’s balls with enough enthusiasm. For the sake of the film, can you at least pretend like you are enjoying this?
“You’re both such fine handsome young men.”
Brian stopped licking Andy’s balls and gagged, then spit out a ball hair. Mr. Black laughed.
“Another vote for shaved balls.”
After the two American jocks had sucked dick and licked balls for about fifteen minutes, and their dicks were both hard and throbbing, Mr. Black stopped them.
“Now I grant you, this next bit may be a bit difficult for you, so please, please, don’t cause any problems. I don’t want any complaints now. I fully realize this is quite hard for you to do, but we have to get on with it if we're going to finish this film tonight. So now, are you boys ready to learn how to suck each other’s assholes?”
Across the world, it was noon in New York City. Jeff Black had come straight from the airport. He sat exhausted and angry at a small cafe table at “The Troika,” a Russian restaurant owned by the brother of Igor Tausniansky. Igor sat across from him, nervous fingers picking at the bread and meat set out. Igor was an ugly man, broad-faced and bulbous vodka nosed. Long wisps of hair fell across a balding head, tiny beady eyes blinked rapidly. He was half-drunk.
“So, what can I do? They want a million dollars for the disc.”
“They’ll take the million from you, kill you and then take the disc to the next poor sap that’s in on it.”
In the corner, Igor’s younger brother Ivan watched. He was not quite as ugly, and he stood with his hand on the shoulder of his fourteen-year-old son, who was a real Russian beauty. Up until this very day, they had not known their relative was a pedophile.
“You must protect me,” Igor said, tears welling up in his small ferret eyes.
“I don’t have to do anything. But I want that disc. Because you and your friends went behind Mr. Black’s back to share private boy ass, our entire operation could be compromised.”
“I did nothing...a little bit...I did a little bit...only sometime boy ass. It was Dittman, Dr. Deter Dittman. He kept the pics. He started a list of names for private pornography. I bought from him and sold him some Russian stuff, just a little bit.”
Jeff glanced over at the cute fourteen-year-old boy and his father.
“Shut up, Igor, you bore me. The fact is, Dittman put names and photos on a list. If that list falls into the wrong hands, which it has already done, it could be very perilous. So here’s what you do. You tell the nigger gang you will meet and give them the money. We set up a trap, and I have my boys wipe them out. Just make sure they have the disc, and there are no copies. Of course, getting the word of a nigger is worth nothing at all. But it’s the best we can do. We’ll set up a trap in a warehouse over near the docks.”
“Oh, da...da…da...you help me...thank you. What can I do for you?”
“Oh, lots of things. From now on, your Russian boy racket is owned by Mr. Black. Secondly, get on your knees right now and give me a blowjob.”
“What? You want...from me? Oh, not here in my brother’s restaurant. He’s looking. His son is looking. His wife is in kitchen.”
“Exactly. I want them to see what a fuck-up they have for a relative. What a complete loser. You don’t think I really want your disgusting mouth on my dick, do you? No, this is a lesson, a lesson in obedience. On your knees and suck my cock, or I don’t save your life.”
The ugly Russian’s face twisted into a horrible mess. He blubbered and dropped to his knees. His brother moved closer, a look of absolute horror on his face. The fourteen-year-old boy looked curious. Igor crawled beneath the table and opened Jeff Black’s trousers.
“One more thing. If I save your miserable life, I want your young nephew there in my hotel room at eight o’clock tonight prepared to do anything I want with him.”
Igor looked up from the crotch.
“I cannot control my brother’s boy.”
“Certainly you can. You got your relatives over here illegally. I know that your brother owes everything to you. He has no life, no future without you. That’s why he looks so scared. So now, to save your life, I want the boy.”
“Which of the two surfer boys do you find the most attractive?” Mr. Black asked Pete Daniels as they watched the two naked boys fuck on the bed.
Actually, Pete had been thinking of home and his sons, anything to block his mind from the extreme humiliation and torment Mr. Black had put the two teenage travelers through for the last two hours. And here Mr. Black thought he was doing it all for him, to entertain him.
“Andy, the curly-headed blond, now getting fucked up the ass by his best buddy Brian, or Brian the more muscular dark-haired one who cried like a baby the first time he had a dick up his boy-cunt, which do you find more attractive?”
Everyone in the room was naked now, even the police inspector. They had all sampled Andy and Brian’s mouth and ass. Pete had performed like a trooper, giving Andy a face fuck that would have convinced anyone he was a sadist, not an FBI agent on assignment. It had been over an hour since Andy swallowed his third load of cum, and cocks get hard again, so the party continued.
Pete watched Brian slam his thick American teenage dick into the asshole of his best friend. He watched the balls bounce against the ass crack. The boys had long since stopped apologizing to each other for committing depraved acts. ‘I’m sorry, man, that I got to fuck your ass.’ ‘I’m sorry, man, my dick is down your throat; I know you’re not gay.’ Now they just performed like well-oiled machines or trained circus animals. These were well-muscled hunks, and there was something hot about seeing them humping on the bed.
“Oh…I don’t know,” Pete answered, pumping his own throbbing prick,” I think I prefer Andy just a bit more. He has that cute boyish Huckleberry Finn quality. Why do you ask?”
Mr. Black smiled.
“Because I’m going to kill one of them.”
Pete swallowed the lump in his throat. His dick twitched. He was about to become a witness to a murder. That alone would be enough to put Mr. Black away for good.
“Not at all. Oh, it’s not what you think. It’s not for any kind of sexual gratification. Killing for sexual highs bores me. No, no, this is quite practical. We have to get rid of the boys; that’s obvious. They are strapping youths, and even though they’re not the most intelligent beings who ever walked the earth, they’re not stupid—well, not too stupid. Tomorrow they will realize the extent of their abuse, and who knows, they might seek refuge at the American Embassy.”
“But the pictures and videos of them with the coke, won’t that keep them quiet?”
Mr. Black laughed.
“I’m so glad you joined our circle, Pete, because, on your own, you’d be in prison within the year. We have just forced two normal young men to suck cock, take dick up the ass and lick each other’s shitholes. I pissed on their faces, but you were too shy to do that, and the good inspector here made Andy lick the cum out of Brian’s just fucked pussy. We made them crawl naked around the condo, we beat their asses with belts, and we rode on their backs like beasts of burden. We made them eat the ashes and butts out of dirty ashtrays and then kiss while swapping cigarette butts and ash before swallowing it. We forced them to bite off and chew and swallow each other’s ass crack hairs. They had to lick the pre-fuck from each other’s piss holes and from ours.
“Do you really think a few photos will scare them off once the reality of what has happened sinks in? I use photos and videos to entrap many of my teen workers, but only in the beginning. Eventually, other kinds of fears must replace the fear of exposure, but you haven’t let me finish. If I kill one of them, the other will be in such fear for his life, that he will provide the culminating entertainment for this evening. That’s the real purpose.”
And while Pete Daniels watched, Mr. Black walked to the bed and shot Brian just as the boy shot his load up his best friend’s ass. Andy heard the sound just as the thick rope of dick slop squirted deep within his ass-cunt. He jerked his head around as his best friend since middle school fell dead atop his young muscular body, his dick still up Andy’s ass. Well, needless to say, Andy flipped out, which is precisely what Mr. Black wanted.
“Unless you want to die too, Andy, you will get with the program here. You will do everything we tell you and with a little more enthusiasm, please. Now the first thing I want you to do is to kiss your friend Brian.”
“But...but...he’s…ugh...oh, god...he’s dead.”
The boy’s breath was ragged, and his eyes were even more wild than they had been when he was high on coke.
“Exactly, Andy. Now give him a nice long deep goodbye kiss. Make sure to stick your tongue way into his mouth.”
Andy crawled across the floor and kissed Mr. Black’s naked feet.
“Please...please...don’t...please don’t make me do that...please...”
“That’s very nice, Andy, and you look very becoming down there like that, your nice hot freshly fucked ass sticking up in the air, the cum of your dead friend leaking out of it and running down over your balls. I like you kissing me feet too, but unfortunately, that is not what I just asked you to do.”
Mr. Black fingered the Beretta, as Andy crawled back across the room and up onto the bed as fast as he could. His naked golden tan body covered with sweat, he crawled over the dead form of his friend and avoiding the small hole in the boy’s head and the blood running down onto the pillow, he started to tongue kiss the corpse. Pete could hardly stand to look at the grotesque sight, as Mr. Black stroked Andy’s thick drooling dick.
“That’s very nice, Andy, now suck his cock for him, will you?”
The Inspector chuckled, as Andy, naked, kneeling over the dead body of his friend, swung his head around to look at Mr. Black as if he could not believe what he had been asked to do. His blond curls were tight with sweat, and his full-lipped mouth hung slack. Snot ran from his nose, and his eyes were red with crying. He was gorgeous.
“Go on, Andy, suck his cock, or I swear I’ll shoot you dead this instant.”
Andy began to suck on the dead boy’s still semi-erect cock. He sucked off the ass slime from his recent butt fuck. He sucked the remaining cum from the prick tube. Then the cock grew smaller and smaller, and still, the boy sucked. Suddenly he got a mouthful of piss from the dead boy’s dick. It scared the hell out of him. He thought for one brief moment his pal was still alive, but it was only the boy’s body settling for the last time. Andy’s entire body shook so hard the bed rattled.
Mr. Black walked over and shoved the gun up Andy’s asshole. Andy whimpered and sucked harder. Everyone laughed as he swallowed the rank piss of his dead best friend. Pete’s laugh was a bit hollow and fake, but his erection for some reason was real—most real. Next, Mr. Black ordered poor Andy to suck out his friend’s asshole. Well, you know that when someone dies, they often evacuate their bowels, so poor Andy came away with a face full of shit, but the evening’s activities were not quite over.
With Brian in the trunk and Andy seated in the rear of the limo between Pete and Mr. Black and the Inspector riding up front, they all headed out to the crocodile farm. Mr. Black fondled Andy’s dick and tickled his balls. Sometimes he pinched the boy’s big nipples lightly. Andy seemed completely out of it.
Mr. Black ran his hand through Andy’s curls and patted the boy’s handsome cheek.
“You have done very well tonight. I’m very pleased. We’re almost through. If you pass this little test, I promise you, I will not harm you, and I will let you go free.”
Pete, sitting on the other side of the naked youth, felt the young man’s body tense as the hope of life coursed through it. Mr. Black had the car stop at a roadside outdoor restaurant. It was three in the morning, but twenty to thirty laughing Thais were eating and drinking beneath the Christmas tree lights of the open-air eatery.
“Are you hungry, Andy? I am. Here’s five hundred baht. I want you to go into the restaurant and get us some food. Get some pork fried rice, and some shish kabob, and some Cokes. Anybody want a beer? No? Just Cokes then.”
Andy worked his mouth, but no sound came out. Finally, he was able to clear his throat.
“You want me to go get food for you like this...naked?”
“Oh…it’s a warm night, Andy, and besides, it will give the Thais a good laugh. They’ll be so polite that you’ll hardly notice their snickers. If they ask you, tell them it’s a hot night, and you like being this way. They will be most impressed with your big swollen fucked out farang penis. Oh, and don’t think of running. There’s a ravine behind the restaurant, and the good Inspector here will have a gun trained on you every minute. Now, hurry, Andy, unless, of course, you’d rather I just shot you in the head here in the car.”
Mr. Black chucked, as the humiliated bare-ass naked teenager walked into the restaurant and heads turned while Thais gibbered gaily.
“The stupid cunt, I would never shoot him in the car. Think of the mess.”
They snacked in the car on the way out to the farm. Mr. Black had a bit of fun shoving fried rice up Andy’s asshole, and then scooping it out again and making the boy eat it. By now, the kid was quite docile. Of course, the crocodile farm was not open at four in the morning, but, of course, Mr. Black knew the night security men and even had his own keys for the place. They drove right into the park compound and up to a manmade lake. They stood behind a chain-link fence with Brian’s body on the ground next to them.
“Now, Andy, here’s your final test. Do this, and you go free. All you have to do is swim out to the middle of the lake, deposit Brian’s body, and swim on to the other side, and you go free. It’s that simple.”
“Shouldn’t you weight the body?” Pete asked.
“Not necessary,” Mr. Black smiled. “The lake has over two hundred crocodiles in it.” While he spoke, he masturbated Andy’s dick. “Very ravenous crocodiles.” He bounced the terrified boy’s scrotum on the palm of his hand.
“Well, Andy, you have a choice. I shoot you here and have the guards feed your meat to the crocs, or you swim for your life. I’d take the chance and swim for it. Sometimes the creatures are sleeping or just lazy and don’t go after fresh meat. Now the hole in Brian’s head is pretty clogged by now, so I don’t think he’ll bleed much. You decide.”
Andy looked at Mr. Black with a sudden unusual calm.
“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked in a young boyish innocent voice.
Mr. Black smiled at the defeated boy.
“Because I can.”
Andy chose to swim. Pete observed the college boy, dragging the naked form of his friend down toward the lake’s edge. The sound of crocodile tails splashing and bodies slithering filled the quiet of the night.
“What if he doesn’t go into the lake? What if he tries to hide?”
“There is no place to hide. Beyond this fence, the place is crawling with crocs. And when I just masturbated his dick and balls, I placed the scent of female croc pussy on it. I’d be amazed if he even makes it to the lake.”
Mr. Black signaled somebody, and suddenly the area on the other side of the fence was filled with light. They saw the naked shivering Andy with the body of his friend in his arms, surrounded by forty huge crocodiles. Andy could not even move, could not even step without touching one of them. Long narrow mouths yawned and snapped shut as if tasting the meal to come. Andy was sobbing pitifully. Another all-American jock reduced to nothing more than a whimpering boy cunt by Mr. Black.
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen enough, and I need some sleep.” Mr. Black said, turning back to the car.
“Well, aren’t you ready yet?” Jeff Black hollered, lounging in an easy chair with a drink in his hand. Jeff was not happy. His dick hurt like hell from the torture imposed on it by his uncle, so fucking of any kind was out of the question. Still, he could have some fun.
The bedroom door opened, and the boy came out. It was terribly embarrassing for the boy to appear like this, wearing only a tiny pink posing pouch. I mean, he was only fourteen years old, and until now, his life had been carefully sheltered from the business practices of his perverted uncle. Many a time and often, Igor Tausniansky had dreamed of breaking in the small tight pale ass of his nephew, but family respect had kept him in line. Now the boy was a sacrifice—a sacrifice to Jeff Black for saving the miserable Russian’s hide.
Sasha Tausniansky padded across the hotel room rug on large naked teenage feet. His body was still growing, and right now, his feet looked a little out of place. He was not large or overly muscular, just a smooth, thin fourteen-year-old boy with a beautiful ass. He had a chest that was just starting to fill out and two nickel-sized brown titties. His face was quite stunning with that moody Russian quality topped off with large dark eyes and a mop of black hair.
“You know the rules, Sasha. We’ve gone over this. You do everything I say, and your father and mother and uncle are protected by me. You disobey me, and your uncle dies, and your father and mother are turned over to the police as illegal aliens. Now, come over here and let me take a look at you.”
The tense boy moved closer. He knew about queers, the kids at school kidded about them. His father had always warned him to be wary of strange men. The struggling restaurant owner never suspected that his wealthy brother was a pervert himself.
Jeff ran one hand down Sasha’s smooth hairless chest. Then he rested the ice-cold glass against one of the boy’s nipples. The brown pucker stood out like a pebble Sasha chewed his lower lip in humiliation and fear.
“Tell me, Sasha, have you ever fucked a girl? Ever shoved your teenage dick into a nice warm twat?”
“No, sir.” the boy answered with a husky voice in the blossom of its maturity.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
Sasha looked at the rug. He curled his toes and ran his fingers along his hips, wanting to cover his teen prick and nuts, to cover the stupid embarrassing, revealing prick pouch that barely held anything in.
“What’s her name?”
“Megan...she’s in my class.”
“Well, Sasha, haven’t you ever thought about fucking Megan?”
The small pink posing pouch allowed just a bit of pubic hair to peek out. The stretched material showed that the boy had a hefty package even at fourteen. Like so many Russians, he would someday be hung like a horse.
“Yes, sir...sometimes, I think about it.”
“Yes, and you beat your meat, don’t you? I’ll bet she has nice tits, doesn’t she, Sasha? You think about her tits and pussy, and you beat your fuckmeat, don’t you? You know, I’m worried about you, Sasha, since most boys your age are fucking girls like crazy. They hardly go a single day without slamming their teen pricks into some pussy. You’ve never fucked. That concerns me. You aren’t like your uncle, are you? You aren’t a queer?”
“Oh, no, sir,” the boy was quick to respond.
“Would you like to suck my cock, Sasha?”
“No, sir, I don’t think so, sir.”
The very thought of sucking on another guy’s dick made the kid sick to his stomach.
“But you would do it if I ordered you to. You would do it to save your family?”
“I guess so, sir…if I had to.”
Jeff ran his eyes down over the boy’s sleek pale torso, across his tight young tummy and down to the lump in the pink posing strap. A teenage pecker. A newly grown teenage penis and a sweet plump ball sack.
“Well, unfortunately, you can’t suck my cock tonight. I had a little accident, and my cock is in no condition to be sucked tonight. Maybe later in the week, if you are a real good boy, I’ll let you take my big thick fuck sausage down your teenage throat, won’t that be nice?”
“Eh...yes, sir…I guess...”
The poor kid was so confused. He tried to think about his family, his girlfriend, anything but the pervert seated before him. There he stood dressed in this stupid pouch and nothing else, big bare feet on the carpet, ass twitching in fear, sweat running down from the new hair at his teenage armpits. He licked his lips nervously.
“But you can do something for me, Sasha. You can take off your posing pouch. You can take it off and show me your naked boy body.”
With his tongue licking over parched lips and trembling fingers, Sasha Tausniansky reached down and undid the tiny string holding the satin pouch around his dick and balls. The material fell away, and his thick teenage penis hung free. The air hit it, and Sasha sucked in his breath. His balls danced in their fat sack. The thick prick was a beauty all right, five inches long flaccid with a big dickhead covered by thick foreskin. A real Russian prick.
Jeff could smell the kid’s cock—or maybe it was his fear.
“Very nice, Sasha, you have marvelous cock and balls, very developed for a boy your age. The girls at school would love to suck on that big cunt rammer. Even the little eighth grade girls would love to swing on a teen prick as handsome as that, but you don’t like girls, do you, Sasha?”
“Yes, sir, I like girls...I just…I just haven’t...”
“Yes, Sasha, I know. You’re a pussy boy who’s afraid to fuck cunt. You are a little faggot twerp boy. That’s okay. If you can’t fuck girls, you can dance naked for me. Go turn on the radio and dance naked for me, you little pansy boy.
Jeff loved the way the boy’s smooth tight ass cheeks moved up and down as he walked to the radio. He loved the slim trim waist of the kid, and then the flair of the ass mounds, and the way the ass cheeks tucked under again where they met the thigh. A perfect fucking ass.
The boy put on the radio, then turned stupidly, and just stood there, scared out of his mind.
“Well don’t just stand there like a dumb cunt having her first period. Dance for me. And it better be sexy too. Gyrate your hips and thrust out your worthless teen dick. I want a nice hot whore dance.”
At first, the boy hardly moved at all, but soon he closed his eyes and got into the music. It made him feel better. He picked up his big teen feet and stomped them down, and his ballbag bounced beautifully. His prick swayed from side to side as he danced. He swiveled his young ass, and his prick swung even more.
“That’s good, just think of your parents and how you can help them if you dance real sexy for me.”
Sasha closed his eyes and started to feel the music. He sometimes danced in front of a mirror watching himself, grooming himself for when he had enough courage to ask girls on a date. Once, he even danced like this—naked—in front of the mirror. He watched his own prick bounce, and then he had jacked off. His boy slop had covered the mirror.
“Now, while you dance, reach down and start to stroke your dick. Come on, you know how. All fourteen-year-old boys know how.”
Sasha let out a little whimper, but that was all. One rather large smooth teenage hand went down to his groin, and his fingers wrapped around the stalk of this limp dick. Then in time to the music, as he swayed his beautifully smooth ass, he began to pump his prick. His big boy balls jiggled and bounced.
“Spread your legs wider, so your balls swing more. Pump your dick harder.”
Jeff knew he could not take much more without his own dick responding, and that would be terribly painful.
“Now listen to me. Tomorrow night, I am taking you to a special after-hours party at a place called the Burlesque House. It’s right off-Broadway. It’s a place where young men dance in pouches and then naked for other men. While they dance, they masturbate just like you’re doing now. Tomorrow night after the club closes, there is going to be a special party at which young boys will dance. You will be one of the dancers. You will dance for over one hundred men, just like you are doing now. Over one hundred men will stare at your bare-assed body, at your ass-cunt and your cock and balls. And you will give them a good show! Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Sasha moaned, eyes closed, beating his meat and shaking his hips and ass to the music.
“It’s a beautiful sight, a boy your age doing that. Not enough people appreciate what a beautiful sight it is. My uncle taught me to appreciate the beauty of sexuality. I love to watch the muscles of a young boy’s body tighten as he beats off.
“Let me see your dick. Take your hand away. Oh…very nice, Sasha, you must be seven inches long. That’s very impressive for a slender boy like you. Now tighten the muscles in your groin and make your dick dance. Make it bounce to the music. Oh, that’s great, look at that tummy slapper go. Look, you’re getting pecker tracks all over your stomach and chest.
“Now lie down on the floor. Go on, don’t be shy, Sasha. I want you to do this tomorrow night too. Lie down...good, now spread your legs...now arch your hips up as high as you can and beat your meat. That’s so beautiful.
“Look, your dick is leaking. That’s a good sign, Sasha. Don’t be shy, kid. Think about helping your folks. Now I want you to throw your legs up over your head so that your dick is hanging right over your face. Come on, pretend you’re in gym class. A boy like you must be pretty limber.”
It was a truly gorgeous sight—a real dick stiffener. The kid’s small tight smooth ass was up high, his legs were back over his shoulders, his big feet on the carpet, his seven-inch dick hung over his sweet puckered lips.
“Now, first of all, Sasha, I want you to reach up and really spread your ass cheeks as wide apart as you can. I want a really good look at your pussy. Don’t be shy just because I call it a pussy. I know you think of it as an asshole, but that’s something we’re going to have to correct.
“Some boys your age are very fortunate. They aren’t just normal boys. They are what we call cunt boys. It’s a medical term, Sasha. Their assholes, it seems, are different from normal boy assholes. Their assholes are also cunts like girls have. I’ll bet you have an ass-cunt. I can tell from just looking at you. You act kind of faggy, you know.
“Come on, spread your ass cheeks nice and wide and let me have a look. Oh, stop whimpering and do it. Oh, yes. Oh, yes, indeed. That’s a pussy if I’ve ever seen one. Now you see a doctor should have informed you that you’re a pussy boy. That would have saved you all kinds of anguish over fucking girls.
“You see, Sasha, cunt boys like you weren’t made for fucking twat. They were made to be cumdumps for other boys when they can’t get any girl cunt or when their twats are on the rag. That’s why God put pussy boys like you on earth, to give relief to boy cocks when they need it. And here you didn’t even know about that. You should have been serving up your ass-cunt to the other boys from about sixth grade on, Sasha. Those boys need to relieve themselves sexually, and that’s what you were made for. Look at that nice pink pussy hole. But you need relief too, don’t you, Sasha. I can understand that.
“Now, Sasha, I want you to suck your own dick. Oh, don’t start crying now. You’ve been really good. Now come on, its good practice for when you have to suck mine and the guys at the party tomorrow will love it. Suck your own dick.
Come on, you can reach it. You’re thin enough, and your prick is humongous. Get it into your own mouth. Reach out with your lips and take the cockhead in your mouth. Don’t be afraid of the taste. That’s it, Sasha. Taste your dickhead. More, take more of your own cock in your mouth. Now start to masturbate. I want you to jerk off into your own mouth, Sasha. I want you to jerk off until you shoot your load, and then I want you to swallow your own cum. Don’t spill a fucking drop. Swallow it all like a good boy. You see that way, you can suck your own dick while the boys at school are fucking your pussy.”
Poor entrapped fourteen-year-old Sasha learned about cocksucking by sucking his own penis. While he did it, he imagined the party and how he would have to do this in front of a hundred men. He wished he were dead. Jeff began to finger fuck the self-sucking teenage boy.
At the same time, Raj, the Indian hustler, was licking his ass slime off the ten-inch prick of Rafe, the leader of the Hofuckers, the New York gang that had adopted him as a fuck boy. At least these guys were kind to him. Shit, they better be, he had brought them a billion-dollar gift in the guise of a computer disc. They even treated him with respect, except when their big black dicks needed servicing, then they treated him like some cheap street whore, but that’s how they treated everyone they fucked. Cute boys were nothing more to them than cumdumps.
“Don’t forget the balls,” Rafe said, lighting a joint. “You got ass scum all over my nuts.”
Well, most of it was Rafe’s own cum, but Raj did not argue. He licked at the gigantic black nuts, and they swung in their flesh sack. They were covered with curls of wiry black hair, and Raj got a bit of ball hair caught in his teeth.
The door opened, and Taylor, a sixteen-year-old member of the gang, hurried in.
“Come on, man, we gotta get to that warehouse to meet the man and collect our first million bucks. This be the night!”
“Yeah, come on, get dressed, little Raj. You’re the star tonight. And after we collect the money, we waste the fucking pervert. And then we go on to the second name on the disc. Is this sweet or what? And we cuttin’ you in big time cause your ass is responsible for the disc in the first place. You gonna be one rich little fucker.”
Yeah, one rich little fucker, if he didn’t die first from getting gangbanged by nigger dick every fucking day. Once he had some of the cash, maybe a couple of hundred thousand, Raj would find some way to slip away. Leave them with the fucking disc. With that kind of money, he could start a decent life for himself. Ah, the hopes and dreams of the innocent young.
Tong Yuk Kim “Sammy” Tong in New York City, placed the call to Mr. Black at noon, but in Thailand it was midnight. Mr. Black has had his dick in the ass of an adorable Thai rent boy, and he did not like to be bothered.
“This had better be good,” Mr. Black said
Rolling over, phone in hand, Mr. Black eased his swollen prick out of the small brown ass. He grabbed the Thai boy’s head and forced the kid’s face down on his ass-slimed cock. The boy began to lick at once.
“Oh, this is good, all right, boss, good and bad. We got problems on the clearance check for that client you got with you in Bangkok, Pete Daniels.” Sammy had a New York accent since he had spent most of his twenty-nine years there.
“What kind of clearance problems?”
Mr. Black was so totally focused that he hardly noticed the Thai teenager’s tongue swiping up and down his sensitive prick stalk.
“Nothing too concrete, but things are too neat. His background, it’s too pat. Usually, we find some customary abnormal glitches in our perverts, you know. This guy just kind of came out of the blue a few months ago. Something’s funny.”
“Well, why was he accepted before the investigation was complete?”
Mr. Black tensed as he shoved his dick down the kid’s throat to the balls. The young boy’s mouth and throat were too small for the drooling fuck slab, and the face fuck caused considerable pain. Suddenly, the boy forgot about the money he had been promised and just wanted to go home to his brother and sister-in-law with whom he lived.
“Ask your nephew, sir. He’s the one who whisked the guy off to Thailand before we could complete a complete background check.”
“Goddammit!” Mr. Black rolled over, so his huge cock was forced all the way down the boy’s throat, and his balls were banging on the kid’s chin. The boy’s nose was buried in Mr. Black’s groin. “Send the plane for me at once. Tell Jeff I’m coming home to personally supervise the final phase of the Tausniansky fiasco.”
Mr. Black took out his anger on the boy, pounding his dick down the kid’s throat while he contemplated the advisability of trusting Pete Daniels further.
Two days later, Pete Daniels found himself back in New York, a guest at Mr. Black’s penthouse. Pete joked about his whirlwind tour of Thailand, and Mr. Black promised that he would make it up to Pete.
“Business required me to cut our holiday short, but I trust we can find some diversions to please you here at home. In fact, before I make some phone calls, I have just a slight bit of business to attend to that might interest you.”
Mr. Black led the way into his sunken living room bordered on three sides by floor to ceiling windows. Mr. Black threw his coat on a black and chrome chair and went to the entertainment center. Soon sounds of Nina Simone singing I Put a Spell on You filled the room. The track lighting highlighted a Tibetan mandala framed in glass on one wall, an original Van Gogh, and a photograph of Mr. Black as a teenager with an elderly Chinese on another, and a Ming Dynasty horse rearing up on a pedestal near the black and chrome couch.
“Part of my “thing,” for lack of a better word, Pete, for young boys and what I do to them, with them, to them, stems back to my own childhood. You see, my father couldn’t stand disobedience. He believed that if a child breathed wrong that it was a sign of impertinence and required immediate and harsh reprisal. Sometimes, I couldn’t wait until I was an adult and could make other boys suffer as I suffered.”
Mr. Black was shaking vodka martinis in a chrome shaker. He poured them into two stemmed glasses, added a dash of vermouth, and a sprinkle of olive juice to dirty it.
“I have yet to be convinced that any of my subjects, or victims as some would prefer to refer to them, have come close to suffering nearly as much as I did as a child.”
“Is that why you don’t kill children in your films, why you don’t do snuff?”
Mr. Black, smiling, handed over one martini, and the two men clinked glasses.
“Death is not the ultimate horror. Under some circumstances, death can be a blessing. I remember as a child wishing for death. And now the little bit of business I promised you if you’d care to have a seat and observe.”
He pushed a button on the wall, and a few moments later, a young Chinese man in his mid-twenties entered the room. He ushered in a fourteen-year-old boy dressed in a formal private school uniform of a white shirt, black shorts, knee socks, and black shoes. The boy was quite beautiful and had a breathtaking innocence about him. He was also in a state of abject terror—all focused on Mr. Black.
“Hello, Chris. You look lovely. How is school coming?”
“Fine,” the boy muttered, looking at his feet.
Mr. Black extended one hand and lifted the boy’s heart-shaped face. The boy’s cheeks were flushed. His large eyes were dark and deep.
“And how are your parents?”
“Fine...” the boy’s lower lips trembled just a little.
“This is Mr. Daniels. He’s a client of mine. Now, Chris, I’ve heard some bad things about you. I’ve heard, Chris, that you have not followed orders. That you’ve disobeyed me, is that true?”
“Please, sir...I....I...” the poor boy could not find the words.
Pete wanted to look away but knew he dare not.
“Chris, open your shirt.”
Without a word, the fourteen-year-old boy undid the buttons of his white shirt and opened it. He had sexy girly tits capped with large nipples.
“Well, those are looking good. At least, you obeyed one order. Now lower your shorts for me.”
The boy lowered his shorts, and Pete saw that the boy had on no underwear. His young, sweet-looking pricklet and balls were still hairless.
“No underwear. Good boy, Chris. You’ve been going to school every day this way?”
The boy had just a wee bit of hope in his voice as if his good deeds might offset the bad. Mr. Black reached out and took one of the boy’s nipples in the fingers of each hand. He began to twist and pull on the nipples. The boy started to whimper. The boy was so small, and Mr. Black was so tall that he pulled the boy onto his toes by his titty tips.
“Now the bad part, Chris, I gave you a clear-cut order. I ordered you to suck the cocks of the boys in your school. I ordered you to suck fifteen cocks a week. You haven’t been doing that. You started out okay, sucking the big dicks of those senior football players, but then you slacked off. Last week you only sucked nine dicks. Explain yourself.”
Chris was in extreme pain that much was evident to Pete. Pete was in pain too, due to the huge erection in his pants. He hated it that he was responding to violence. He would need some serious deprogramming when this damn case was over.
“Oh, sir...it’s so hard...I mean…some boys spread the word, and they call me awful names...and and...”
“What kind of names, Chris?”
Mr. Black twisted the boy’s nipples until he almost passed out.
“What names, Chris?”
“Cocksucker...they called me a cocksucker. The boys told each other, and it got around.”
“Well, what’s wrong with that, Chris? That’s what you are—a cocksucker. The senior boys were merely identifying you correctly. That should have helped you in your goal, why didn’t it?”
“Because the first boys I did it for...well, they acted like they liked me. They were kind to me, but the boys later on...they treated me like...I don’t know what. They called me ‘faggot’ while they did it, and they only used my mouth and went away without even talking to me. I felt so...so...” he cried.
“Chris…Chris...Chris, when will you understand? I want you to feel like a cheap little cumdump. I want the boys to use your mouth to unload their big greasy dicks in it. I don’t want them to be nice to you. Now, Chris, because you failed me, I have to punish you, and do you know how I’m going to punish you? I’m going to whip your balls. I’m going to whip your balls very hard. Now sit up here on this table and spread your legs as wide as you can.”
For fifteen minutes, Mr. Black whipped the boy’s balls with his belt. Pete felt sick to his stomach. The boy begged, sobbed, screamed, bit his lip until it bled, but at last, he had learned his lesson to Mr. Black’s satisfaction.
“There, Chris, you may pull up your shorts now. Your balls will be sore and swollen for some time. I do hope we shall not have to repeat this little episode as it will be a lot worse next time. Next time you disobey, I shall shove a pen up your dick.
“Now climb down from that table. I’m happy with the development of your udders. I can see you have been working on your big fat sow nipples for me. That’s good. Guys like boys with huge udders.
“Now it’s thirty blow jobs a week, Chris. I have spies all around, so don’t disappoint me. There’re over five hundred horny boys at your school, so thirty teenage stud cocks a week shouldn’t be too hard to find. And now, your new assignment, Chris. In a month, I want you to report to me that you’ve been fucked in the ass.”
The poor boy’s legs collapsed, and he fell to the carpet. Mr. Black reached down and dragged the boy to his feet by the nipples.
“Did you hear me, cocksucker?”
“But...but, sir...I’m not gay. I like girls. I really do, sir.”
The boy was shaking like a leaf, held up by his tits in the big man’s paws.
“Well, then, you’re just going to have to go and find yourself a nice boyfriend and get fucked, aren’t you? One month.”
“But my parents, you don’t know my father. He will disown me. He will throw me out of the house.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. You never did like school that much. You can drop out of school and go to work for me using your newfound skills. So get busy and find yourself a boyfriend to fuck you.”
“How can I find a boyfriend...I don’t know how…oh, sir…please.”
“Then find yourself a real asshole to unload into you. I really don’t give a fuck. But I want you back here in a month—ass fucked!”
Chris fell to his knees again despite Mr. Black’s nipple grip, and he clung to the man’s pants legs.
“Oh…please...please, don’t do this to me. I beg you have mercy on me. I’m a good boy...a good boy...my father…”
Mr. Black slapped the begging boy.
“Good boys are only good for one thing—to satisfy men’s fuck lust and take care of their dicks and balls. Good little schoolboys suck the dicks of the other schoolboys and let them fuck them whenever they want to. You are a worthless cumdump. And I’m going to help you become a productive fuckhole. But because I warned you about disobedience and because you continue to whine and complain, I’m going to complicate your assignment. I want you fucked by nigger dick.”
Chris collapsed. He just blacked out, fainted. He lay there on the tiled floor of the hallway, looking like a rag doll. Mr. Black calmly unzipped his trousers, took out his dick, and pissed on him.
“Get him out of here, Sammy,” Mr. Black said to the Chinese man.
Mr. Black turned to Pete, his huge pecker still hanging from his fly.
“Now, if you will excuse me for a few hours, your room is through there. Your luggage should already be there. I have some phone calls to make. Would you care for a boy to fuck?”
Pete offered a weak laugh.
“No, if you’ll pardon me, I’m all fucked out. Those kids you had on the plane pretty much drained me. I had no idea that kids that young could suck that well. And their assholes were like satin, and so supple.”
Mr. Black saluted with his martini.
“Training. Proper training. That’s what it’s all about.”
Mr. Black walked from the room whistling as Sammy returned with a mop to clean up the piss.
Later, after a series of phone calls, Mr. Black sat in his office amid a myriad of computers, televisions, fax machines, copiers, and other wonders of our century. He sat at a glass desk. He was naked. A black long-necked desk lamp shone down on the photos of two beautiful, fair-haired, rosy-cheeked boys in that transitional age between a little boy and pubescent teen. The boys were naked on a bed with Pete Daniels. The boys were his sons.
Mr. Black picked up a magnifying glass and studied the pricks and balls of the two boys, and then their tight little assholes. He shook his head. The fucking FBI agent had actually posed naked with his own sons in an attempt to fool them. That’s almost as far as a man can go, almost! Mr. Black punched some numbers into his phone.
When a voice answered, he barked, “Get the kids. Kill the grandparents if you have to, although I prefer not to, but get the two boys.”
Mr. Black shut off the phone, then took a sip of his third martini as he looked down at the photos of the two pink-skinned fresh-faced naked American boys posing obscenely with their own father. His hand went down to his own thickening prick, which he could see through the glass table, and he began to stroke it. Mr. Black looked at the boys’ faces, at their tiny cocks, at their little pink ballbags, at their small round ass cheeks and their round pink assholes. His fat prick slapped against the bottom of the glass table and left pre-cum tracks all over it as he spoke to the photos.
“Randy...Ryan...have you boys ever wondered what it would feel like to get a big fat cock right up your tender little assholes? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be fucked up the ass over and over, fucked for hours, for days even without any rest? Have you ever wondered?”
The raid turned out to be a piece of cake. Igor Tausniansky, fat and blubbery, dressed in an ill-fitting suit, his red vodka nose leading the way, ambled into the warehouse on schedule with a suitcase in his hand. Out of the dark, little Raj walked with a disc in his hand.
“That’s the only one. No copies?”
“No copies. That’s the million dollars?”
Tausniansky threw the suitcase onto the cement floor.
“I trust you,” Raj said.
“I don’t,” a deep mellow voice came from the dark, and then fifteen strong black teens emerged from the dark corners of the warehouse.
Igor Tausniansky, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, looked around. His few strands of hair fell hysterically over his furrowed brow, and his bushy eyebrows worked overtime.
“A deal is a deal...fellas...huh?” he stammered.
Rafe moved in toward the Russian, a knife in his hand.
“Sho nuff, a deal is a deal, but not when you is dealing with a baby fucker. Is dat what you is, a baby fucker?”
“Now that’s not true. I never do nothing with no baby. I am child lover, boy lover. I love boys. I help them.”
“Yeah, help them take your commie dick up their asses. Now don’t get me wrong, Rudolph, I like a nice fresh piece of boy ass as much as the next dude—ask Raj here—but I seen pictures on that disc, and you were playing with them very young. Ain’t no consent going on in those pics, so I’m afraid you gotta die.”
Igor Tausniansky displayed amazing courage. Perhaps it was because he had lived through so many horrible years in Russia.
“That’s a fucking lie, nigger. You kill me sure, but you not kill me cause I fuck little boy. You kill me because I know about you and your blackmail scheme.”
Rafe smiled, and the white of his teeth filled the darkness.
“Aw shucks, you got me there, grandpa. Actually, I was just playing wit you. I don’t give a fuck who you fuck. I goona fill you wit holes jus’ for the fun of it.”
As the blacks moved in to surround Igor, Jeff Black and his men opened fire. The small automatic handguns of the Negro gang were no match for the Uzis of Mr. Black’s organization. Ten of the black boys were mowed down and instantly died. Four of them were wounded trying to escape, and Jeff ordered them taken back alive to be played with at his men’s leisure. Rafe was shot in the leg. Raj threw the fake disc at the attacking gang and escaped into the darkness of the warehouse. He could not be found anywhere.
“We need to impress upon others in this great metropolis that Mr. Black and his organization are not to be fucked with, so a mere slaughter is not enough. We need an example—a shining example.”
Jeff pointed at Rafe on the ground, and two of his men tore the nigger’s tan pleated trousers down and off. Then they ripped off his silk boxer shorts. Jeff stared down at the humongous nigger dick. Even in its scared shriveled state, it swung almost seven inches. Beneath it rested the plum-sized balls in their hairy sack.
“I think we’ll let you live, Rafe. We’ll let you go back to advise others on how to live a clean, healthy life, but you might consider changing your name. You might consider calling yourself Ruby, or Rosita, or Rachel. I’m going to have a new trophy for my bookshelf.”
Pete Daniels woke up on the black satin sheets of Mr. Black’s guest room. He stared, for a moment, at a painting on the far wall. A painting of a boy about his own son’s age on his hands and knees taking one gigantic dick in his ass and another in his mouth. The art exaggerated the size of the penises. They were as huge as baseball bats, stretching the boy beyond belief, but it was only a painting, not real. And the boy in the picture smiled around the huge dick down his throat. You could see the dick in the boy’s neck. You could see cum squirting out of the boy’s ass around the big black prick fucking him. Crystal clear snot ran from the boy’s cute button nose. Spit drooled to the ground from his dick-stuffed mouth. His toes were curled, and his back arched. Behind him, a line of thirty or forty other black men with hard dicks trailed into infinity. The painting was signed by Mr. Black. The frame was worth five thousand dollars.
It was not for a few seconds, not until he reached for the bedside lamp to turn the light onto the painting that Pete Daniels realized his hands were handcuffed behind his naked back!
“Hey, Cumrag, get your face pussy over here,” the drunken gangster barked.
Fourteen-year-old Sasha Tausniansky, he of the smooth, slender body and dark boyish good looks, naked on the floor, turned his head from his position in the center of the room. Face it, there is something magical about a bare-assed fourteen-year-old boy on his hands and knees, back arched, ass up, balls swinging, crawling around a room. It is a turn on. If you have never tried it at a party of your own, you really owe it to yourself.
Sasha himself was not particularly enjoying it. Up until a few days ago, he had been a normal healthy ninth grade teenage boy with a bright future and his first girlfriend. Now he was a fucked out cunt boy. He had been forced to dance at a gay Times Square burlesque house after-hours party where a hundred men had watched him shake his dick and balls and ass and made him suck himself off in front of them. Later, he had been fucked by sixteen men. Sixteen pricks forced up his innocent tiny pink asshole that now felt all stretched out of shape. Poor Sasha had never thought it possible that men could do such sick things, especially to young boys. He had been taught how to suck cock and lick balls and asses. When his performance was not enthusiastic enough, they took a cattle prod to his nuts.
And now he was entertaining at some kind of victory party. This gang, whoever they were, had just wiped out another gang in a warehouse battle. They were rowdy and drunk and horny. Sasha tried to focus on his real life, the life beyond this nightmare: his father and mother, his school, the baseball team, the choir concert, the upcoming school dance. He tried, but it was difficult with all the cum clogging his nasal passages and coating his tongue and throat. You see, once a boy becomes a cocksucker, it is not possible to ever not be a cocksucker again. Sasha would always be a boy who has sucked dick, no matter what. Even if he married and had children, he would always know that he sucked cock and took prick up his ass. To the gang members, he was just fuck meat.
His job was to crawl around the room, giving blowjobs to whoever might require a little relaxation. He no sooner wrapped his nice full Russian lips around one dirty drooling slab of pussy puncher than another of the gangsters would shake his dick and call him over to lick his. His tongue ached from licking dicks and balls. He hated most having to tongue wash sweaty assholes. He could not even understand that part of it. Why would any man want a fourteen-year-old boy to lick and suck on his asshole?
Sweat trickled down his slender boy body from his armpits, and dick spooge from a recent ass fuck ran from his hole down his thighs and balls. He could not please them all fast enough. He would start to suck one, and another would roughly call him over. Then the guy he was working on would grab him by the ears and face fuck him hard a few times, balls bouncing on his chin. Sasha thought about his room back home. About his posters and CD collection and PlayStation as another hulking goon wiped his drooling dick across his face. A big fat dripping dickhead prodded his eyes and nose. He inhaled at the wrong time and got a string of pre-fuck up his nose. It tickled and burned. He tried to clear his throat, and more fuck slop slid down from his tongue. Somebody stuck a finger up his ass, which hurt from all the recent fucking. Somebody else slapped his swinging balls as he crawled, mouth open as he had been taught, like a hungry animal, toward the next big dick.
The kid’s hair was plastered with cum. Cum ran from his ears where guys had shot off. Cum streaked and coated his just developing chest. One nipple was covered with dry flakey prick drippings. When he opened his beautiful teenage mouth to take in the next dick, sections of his face that glistened with a coating of dried cum would crack, and the dick spooge would flake off. The fourteen-year-old boy smelled of cum.
“Come on, asswipe, arch that pussy up more,” the freak yelled.
Now while he sucked one guy’s big dick, another removed the belt from his pants to whip the kid’s bare ass. The man brought the belt down across the tender, smooth hairless young ass cheeks, leaving an ugly red welt on the ass flesh. Sasha pushed his pussy out. He wanted to please, wanted the horror to stop, but it seemed like he never did enough, as if he never could do enough to satisfy these sexual deviates. Somebody started to fuck his sore asshole with the tip of a cattle prod.
“Hey, cuntboy, you want me to turn this on?” the drunken goon laughed.
“Watch it, Klaus. If this cunt bites my dick, I’ll tear off your balls.
“Goddammit, fuckhole, pay attention to your cocksucking and stop thinking about your fucked out pussy.”
The cattle prod was removed from his rectum and rubbed up and down the soles of his big naked teenage feet.
“Take your dick out of his mouth for just a second, okay?” the gangster with the cattle prod begged his pal.
When the big leaking greasy prick was withdrawn from the boy’s mouth, the cattle prod was pressed against the bottom of the kid’s right foot and turned on. Sasha must have jumped two feet, squealing like a stuck pig. Everyone stopped drinking and talking long enough to have a good laugh.
“Come on, asslips, get back here. Get your rectum mouth back on my ass plugger.”
“Hey, go easy on the kid. He’s worn out for Christ’s sake. He needs a nice refreshing drink.”
Sasha reached his face up toward the beer bottle held out to him. He was thirsty, so thirsty that his mouth would hardly work anymore. He opened his mouth to the lip of the bottle, and the guy holding it poured. It was filled with piss, of course. Sasha gagged and spit, which insulted the pisser. He made the boy swallow the entire bottle full of strong yellow pee.
“I firmly believe that every teenage boy should be made to consume one full glass of piss every day.”
“Yeah, you make your son eat your shit too,” another drunken slob yelled to his bottle-feeding buddy.
“And what’s wrong with that? Teaches the boy respect for his father. Besides, he looks so cute with my shit smeared all over his smooth, soft little face and with a big old turd sticking out of his lips. Maybe we should try that with the little commie cunt here, huh?”
Sasha’s throat was filled with another huge dick. The guy was using his hair as a handle to face fuck the boy.
“Don’t turn him into a toilet until those of us who prefer normal sex are finished with him, please.” Then he looked down at the boy. “Come on, fuckbucket, suck. You’re not some fucking passive blow-up doll! Use those lips and throat muscles. Tickle my dick root with your tongue.”
Jeff Black, drinking heavily in one corner of the room, was not a happy camper. First of all, he could not fuck with his damaged dick. That alone was maddening, but worse than that, the fucking Indian cunt had escaped with the disc. Mr. Black would fucking kill him. He would make the chopsticks in his piss-slit game seem like child’s play.
Jeff remembered back to when he was a kid and refused to eat Mr. Black’s shit one time. Jeff was just a pup and had never even thought of such a perverse activity, but Mr. Black had, of course. He had gone through really perverted plans too. He made Jeff a shit sandwich on whole wheat bread with lettuce and tomato. And shit! Then he ordered little Jeff to chow down. Jeff refused. Mr. Black was not a person to be denied even as a teen.
No one ever said no to Mr. Black.
Why, in high school, no girl would dare refuse to let him fuck her. Mr. Black would walk right up to some freshman cunt and say to her, “I want to fuck you, bitch. Be at my car at three- fifteen.” The girls in the school knew what happened to twats who refused. At sixteen years old, Jason Black, called Mr. Black by others already in those days, also fucked several male and female teachers in the school, to ensure that he received all A’s.
One teacher, a fucking coach, who also taught math, dared to push Jason Black around in front of the class and call him a punk. Two days later, he was found tied naked to the hood of his Mercedes with the hood ornament up his ass. The car was running, so the hot hood burned the coach’s ass and back real good. The coach also had a math class compass stuck through the stalk of his fat dick. No one knew who did it for sure, of course, but everyone could guess. The coach quit midterm and left the town.
Anyway, one time, Jeff refused a tutorial in shit eating organized by his kindly uncle. Mr. Black conducted some experiments with a battery and wires on the poor boy’s as yet fully developed scrotum. For a solid week after, the sorry kid ate nothing but his uncle’s shit—one whole week of three shit meals a day.
The door opened, and Jimmy Lucas hurried through the mass of drinking bodies over to Jeff at the bar.
“The kid is nowhere to be found. I mean, how the fuck can we find one little Indian boy in all of New York City.”
“Fuck...” Jeff muttered. “Okay, here’s what we do. We know the other names on the disc. The kid is sure to try to hit up one of them for money, so get a couple of men to watch each guy on the list. When he shows, we nab the little fucker.”
“Christ, Jeff, that’ll take a hundred men. We’ll have to pull all our guys from the movie studio, and the book stores, and the shipping warehouse—”
“Just do it!”
You did not argue back with Jeff Black, either. He had grown up to be a lot like his uncle in that respect.
Jeff rose and walked across the room. He grabbed Sasha Tausniansky off the cock of some drunken slob and, holding the boy by the thick black hair, slapped his face hard five times. Spit and cum flew from the boy’s swollen lips. Jeff could not fuck, but he could have some fun. He pulled one foot back and let the kid have it in the nuts. The Russian boy whimpered and curled up on the floor. Jeff smiled down at the sobbing teenager.
“Somebody send over to the kennel for a couple of big Doberman Pinschers.”
Mr. Black sat up in bed, a cold sweat covering his entire body. It had only been a dream, but a dream that visited him night after night. He saw an airplane land, a big commercial plane. The hatch opened, and people began to descend an outdoor stairway, tourists, military personnel, a couple of businessmen, and then an elderly Chinese gentleman. Stately, graceful and looking half of his hundred and something years, this relic of a time gone by still wore a traditional Chinese robe of mint green, ankle-length, and with a high Mandarin collar. The Chinese elder smiled at the flight attendant and asked some kind of directions. Mr. Black strained his ears to hear.
“I am looking for my adopted son, Jason Black. He lives here in America. He’s been evil. He has hurt very many people using the knowledge and skill which I taught him, so it is up to me to punish him. I shall use the tiger claw stance of Hong Gar Kung Fu to rip off his cock and balls. I shall not kill him, however. I shall make certain that he survives, and after that, he shall have to walk the streets showing all he meets his penis and balls kept in a big glass jar.”
Mr. Black blinked. He stretched his legs, and it was not until then that he felt the mouth gently sucking at his dick. He ripped the sheet back to reveal the nine-year-old boy he had taken to his room the previous evening with instructions that he be awakened with a slow, gentle suck job. The boy’s eyes grew big. Had he done something wrong? Would he be punished again? His small naked body began to tremble, but Mr. Black just gently pushed the boy’s face to one side and rose nude from the bed.
Mr. Black padded on bare feet through his apartment, stopping at the chrome bar to make a martini for himself. Then he crossed the living room to the guest bedroom. He did not go in. Instead, he slid a photograph of a bare-assed teenage boy playing soccer to one side to reveal a peephole. He looked through the hole at Pete Daniels, the FBI agent, naked and tied to a chair.
Then Mr. Black crossed to the other side of the room to study a photograph on another wall. This one was of a distinguished-looking Chinese gentleman standing in a garden, smiling broadly. He had one hand resting on the shoulder of a teenage boy. The boy was Mr. Black. The Chinese man, the old man in the dream, was his Shifu—his master and his teacher.
The next afternoon, Pete Daniels, naked, with this hands tied behind his back, was ushered into a stark white empty room, not unlike a racket ball court. He fully expected to die. It was only a question of how. He hoped it would be quick and painless, but had few illusions about either aspect. Somehow Black had found out quite easily that he was an FBI agent.
Mr. Black entered the room with an energetic, cheerful stride. He was casually munching a twist of red licorice, which matched his red Chinese silk shirt. He wore white trousers and shoes.
“Morning, Pete,” he smiled. I hope you slept well. I’m sorry about having to bind you in bed, but you realize that we just can’t take a chance with people like you.” He held a whip of licorice out for Pete to chew on if he so chose. Pete declined. “People like you,” Mr. Black went on, “people like you, who make it your obsession in life to do good, to be do-gooders, to hamper and stifle the creative genius of people like me, did you ever really think for even one moment, Mr. Daniels, that you might be a match for me?”
He walked to the far wall and hit a button. The entire wall became a gigantic video screen, and on the screen, Pete Daniels saw a yacht gently riding the ocean waves. The picture was so clear that Pete could almost smell the sea air. The clear blue of the sky hurt his eyes.
“Recognize the boat, Pete?” Mr. Black questioned, sucking on the licorice twist. Pete did not. Mr. Black went on, “Perhaps a closeup.”
The camera zoomed in on the deck of the yacht, and Pete saw his boss, his superior in the FBI, Robert Hagen. Hagen looked up at the camera, then smiled and waved before he turned to someone off-camera and called, “Boys, come and say hello to your father.”
Pete could hardly breathe. He watched in horror as the wall filled with the image of his two sons, Randy and Ryan. Both boys were tan and healthy-looking, wearing small blue Speedo bathing suits, something they never had done at home. The boys smiled and waved at the camera.
“Hi, Dad, thanks for letting us go on vacation with Mr. Hagen. We miss you and hope you can join us soon,” Randy the older boy said, as Bob Hagen moved in behind the boys and let his hand rest on their naked shoulders.
“I miss you, Dad,” Ryan the younger of the two boys called out
Pete’s eyes filled with tears. Bob Hagen allowed his hand to slip down across the smooth undeveloped boyish chests of the boys, and he began to toy with their budding nipples.
“Hope you don’t mind, Pete, but I’ve taken the liberty to teach your boys a thing or two in your absence. You know, it’s funny, but it took Mr. Black a couple of months to catch on to you. You see, he ordered me to train and prepare an agent to try to infiltrate his organization almost a year ago as a test. He wanted to see how good his team was at verifying prospective clients. His own nephew Jeff took a shine to you and really fucked us up for a while.
“Oh, sorry, boys, I didn’t mean to use that word in front of you.”
He ruffled the boys’ hair, and both kids giggled.
“I hope you are having as much fun with Mr. Black as I am having with your boys. And I promise to take good care of them—if you know what I mean. What do you say, boys, ready for a swim?”
Pete could not believe what he saw. His two sons stripped off their tiny blue Speedos to reveal their utter nakedness. Their small penises and unformed balls were shown in closeup on the camera. Robert Hagen also stripped to expose a big old fuck sausage, swinging between his legs over a healthy set of nuts.
“I’ve taught your boys that in the Bahamas, everyone swims naked. We also sleep naked and spend most of the time on the ship naked, don’t we boys?”
“It’s pretty neat, Dad,” little Ryan said, his tiny dick sticking out from his hairless groin. “Mr. Hagen has promised to take us parasailing.”
Bob Hagen laughed and let his hand fondle Ryan’s prick and nuts.
“After you pass the physical exam first—we can’t have you doing stunts like that until we’re sure you’re in good health.
“Don’t worry, Pete, I’ll give both boys a complete physical, inside and out.”
Bob Hagen’s ugly laugh filled the wall, and stupidly, without reason, Pete Daniels attacked the wall itself. He kicked at it and rammed it with his shoulder. His body slammed against a giant image of his naked son Randy. His face battered the blow-up of his son’s dick and balls. There, leaning against the video wall, he sobbed and sobbed.
“Well, here we go, what do we say, boys? What’s our little Bahama’s game? What do we say?”
Randy scowled, but Ryan laughed his musical little boy laugh.
“Last one in the water has to stick two fingers up his own ass,” Ryan yelled, and all three leaped from the yacht into the clear blue ocean.
Pete’s body ran down the wall as if someone had thrown it there, and it had splattered and dripped. He sank to the floor, looking up at Mr. Black.
“You monster! You fucking monster!”
Mr. Black shook his head.
“Actually, I’ve been rather kind. Think of what I could have had done to your boys? This way, they will learn the joys of male sex. Who knows, the little cumdumps might even grow up to be of service to us. But you, alas, are of no earthly use, and so...”
Mr. Black pushed another button, and a section of the wall slid back. Pete had to blink twice, once for each of the perfectly sculpted slender naked blond boys who entered the room. They must have been twenty years old or so, but the word boy so much more aptly described them than man. They had a youthful freshness about them. Each had a winning smile, and while they were not brothers or even related, they could have passed for twins. Neither boy had much body hair at all, just a small neatly trimmed patch at the prick and some armpit wisps.
“I’d like you to meet Rob and Jason.
“Boys, this is Pete Daniels, your new toy.”
“Kewl,” Jason whispered, cocking his handsome face to one side as if that would allow his bright blue eyes to get a better assessment of Pete Daniels.
Jason wore his hair parted in the middle, and blond waves fell to each side of his sparkling eyes. As he looked at Pete, the boy’s big flaccid dick began to grow. It snaked its way out of the thick foreskin, and the fucker started to throb. The prick grew and grew as the boy stood there laughing with his hands on his hips until the fucking pecker was up and slapping his belly at a good nine inches. The head of the cock was huge.
Rob looked down at his buddy’s erection and laughed. He dropped one large hand to his own six and a half-inch flaccid fucker and gave a few tugs. The dick filled with blood and became longer and thicker. It was too heavy to be a tummy slapper. It stood out from the groin at ten inches, thick as a wrist, uncut and proud. Rob raised the other hand to tug at his pouty pink nipple. Jason let his hand fall to rest on Rob’s right ass cheek, which he squeezed and stroked. Both blond boys looked like something out of some ancient myth, so perfect were they in physical form.
“All right, boys, show me what you’ve learned in our classes.”
The two naked boys walked toward Pete Daniels, dicks bobbing, and huge hairless balls swinging. Mr. Black chuckled. Pete struggled with his handcuffed wrists.
“That’s right...don’t bother…nothing about a fair chance here to really test your worth.”
Mr. Black chuckled again and dangled from his right hand the cuff keys. He moved quickly behind Pete and unlocked the shackles. Pete was no slouch when it came to self-defense. He tried to twist around the moment he was free to grab Mr. Black, but the fiendish martial arts master was already across the room. Pete turned and took a defensive stance facing Rob and Jason.
“What shall we do with him, dude?” Rob asked his buddy.
“I’m in the mood for a little fist fucking, what say, dude?”
Both boys had large, strong feet, and now they bounced on them, forcing their erect pricks to dance and drip.
“I’m in the mood to make an FBI agent eat shit,” Rob crooned.
Pete was still young and in great shape—prime condition—but he was no match for the two boys. He would have been no match for even one of them. Before he could turn his head, Rob leaped up and ran across one of the walls, flipping over to land behind Pete. When Pete turned to deal with him, Jason slid across the floor and caught Pete behind the knees with one of his feet. Pete went down. Rob landed and gracefully launched a hard kick to Pete’s scrotum, a kick that was right on target.
The air was jolted from Pete’s body. He doubled up with cramps and saw stars. Jason, still on the floor, delivered three hard kicks to Pete’s kidneys, sending the agent scuttling across the floor in paralyzing pain. Rob reached out one hand and gingerly drew Jason to his feet, where the two boys kissed a deep long tongue-thrusting kiss. Their ripe fat pricks drooled all over each other’s stomachs. Still, in terrible pain, Pete crawled to his feet. He faced his enemy, hands and legs shaking.
“You’re kind of cute when you get scared, dude.”
Rob took to the air, springing up a good six feet, legs wide, big balls swinging. He landed three feet from Pete and spun, lashing out with a straight-legged kick to the agent’s chest. Rob laughed as Pete’s naked bruised body slammed against the wall.
Pete feared his heart would stop beating. He gulped for air. The white room spun, but not as fast as Jason, who came in low and then threw himself onto his hands so his legs could kick out at Pete. His feet caught Pete on the left hip and ass cheek, spinning him to the right and slapping him face-first against the wall. Rob was on him, pressing him hard against the wall. His face smashed against the surface. One hand groped down at his muscular ass and fingers plunged into his asshole. Pete rose up onto his toes to avoid the searing pain, but Rob’s left arm circled his neck and pulled back. Pete was now riding on the invading fingers. Jason stood in front of him and reached out, grabbing a nipple in each hand and tugging as hard as he could. Pete screamed in agony, spit flying from his mouth, tears and sweat running down his face.
Jason laughed a clean, clear college boy laugh and put his right foot up on Pete’s stomach. Then he leaned back and pushed, pulling the nipples far out from the man’s heaving chest. The sound that came from Pete’s throat was not human. It was some primitive wail, some animal scream of unbearable pain. Three fingers wedged their way into his asshole. Rob’s knee came up from behind between Pete’s legs, forcing him to open his legs and his ass more.
Pete got off one good elbow jab into Rob, but Jason replied with three gut-wrenching punches to the stomach. Pete vomited, and Jason caught the puke and rubbed it all over the agent’s face. Then he reached down, grabbed the agent by the balls, and tugged as hard as he could. Pete fell to the floor, right off of Rob’s fucking fingers. Rob was on him in an instant, plunging his fat thick dick up the agent’s asshole.
“OOOHHHGOOODD,” Pete wailed, while Jason kneeled in front of him and slapped his puke smeared face with the head of his dripping dick.
Rob grabbed Pete around the waist and flipped over so that he was on his back, and Pete was riding his dick on top of him. Then Jason slid in between their splayed legs and forced his own massive dickhead against the already fucking pecker. He pushed, and his cock head stretched the asshole even more as both pricks started to force their way into the ass canal.
Pete threw his head from side to side, clawing at the air helplessly as he was impaled on two gigantic cocks. At first, his ass resisted, but the boys slapped and beat his body until he was nothing more than a rag doll, and they could stretch his ass-cunt at will. They even used their fingers to pry and prod until both blond-haired pricks were up inside the agent’s newly formed pussy.
Hysterically, Pete raised one hand to try to shove one of his attackers away. Rob opened his mouth and bit down hard on the agent’s hand. Blood ran down Pete’s wrist and arm and dripped onto the blond boys and the white floor.
“Way to go, man,” Jason yelled. He scooped up some of the blood on his fingers and licked it off. “Oh…fuck…yeah, I can feel your big dick. Robbo. I can feel your big dick fucking next to mine—a great double fuck. Let’s really open up this cunthole, let’s fuck the shit out of it and make him eat it.
On the giant wall above the fucking trio, the video began again. Pete could not see it, of course, since he was blinded by pain, but somewhere in the distance while he was mercilessly double ass fucked, he heard the voice of his sweet younger son.
“Look, Uncle Bob, I’ve got two fingers way up my ass. Is this the right way to do it?”
And Robert Hagen answered, “That’s just fine, Ryan. Your dad would be so proud of you. Here, see if you can do what Randy is doing with that Coke bottle.”
Jason and Rob sure kept Pete Daniels on his toes. Literally, on his toes, he was naked and on his toes in the white room. He had to stand on his very tiptoes, which was quite painful after a while. He had to do this to relieve the tremendous pain on his nipples. You see, a clamp from each nipple was attached to a rope that went through a pulley in the ceiling. The handsome young agent’s nipples were stretched out horribly, and Pete was only able to keep from ripping the skin by balancing on his toes, which now felt as if needles were being stuck into them. His arms were cuffed behind his back.
But that was not even the worst of his problems. He had a ten-inch dildo up his ass. Across the room, Jason, one of the blond surfer dudes, sat lounging low on a metal folding chair, one naked foot up on a table so his legs were spread and his huge floppy dick hung down and swung. Jason and his pal Rob were temporarily fucked out. They had shot five loads of fuck each up Pete Daniel’s ass or into his mouth. Jason was playing with a small remote control unit. Each time he turned the dial, it sent a terrible jolt of pain from the electrified dildo up into Pete’s guts. The poor sweating agent’s whole naked body would arch, and he would wobble precariously on his toes, the nipples of his tits tortured to new extremes.
Pete wanted to die. Prayed to die quickly. His shoulder and stomach were purple with bruises from the beatings he had taken. Cum leaked down from his stretched asshole around the electric dildo. He had heavy weights hanging down from his scrotum, stretching his ball sack to a freakish length. The bottom of the red and tight fuck sack looked about to explode. Rob, the other blond sadist, walked around the strung up victim with a belt in his hand and every now and then he whipped it across the agent’s ass cheeks, or thighs, or chest, or stomach, or, worst of all, his cock and balls. When Pete passed out from the pain, they slapped him awake again.
“Hey dude,” Jason said to his buddy, “You see those two wires with little clips hanging from the rear end of the ass plug. Take those two wires, bring them up through the pussy’s legs, and then clip the little clips onto the piss lips of his dick. That way, we can shock his cunt and his piss lips at the same time.”
Pete Daniels bit down on the rubber plug they had shoved in his mouth to prevent him from biting off his own tongue. They could not be planning more pain. Dear God, it was not possible. He could not take any more pain. Please, could he just die? The bite of the clips on the lips of his urethra was a mild discomfort against the other pain he was suffering. The body is like that. It has priorities of pain. When one pain is overwhelming, others fade.
“Man, I think he needs more weight on his nuts,” Rob commented.
Rob crossed over to a table, his fat prick swinging as he walked. These two wholesome blond young men looked so fresh and clean that it was impossible to imagine they could be such monsters.
“Careful, dude, if you put much more weight on that nut sack, he’s gonna be ruined for life.”
Rob sniggered at his friend’s concern.
Then both boys laughed and fondled their pricks. Rob loved the looks of the handsome agent straining against the nipple clamps and struggling to keep on his toes. His body twisted and stretched, muscles worked overtime, and Pete’s entire torso was dripping with sweat. The sweat made the electric shock stronger. Rob applied more weight, causing Pete to grunt and wheeze. It felt to him like he was being kicked repeatedly in the nuts.
“Hey, man,” Rob chuckled, “let’s see if some water increases the power of the shocks.”
The muscular blond kid, who could have been a major fashion model, lifted his big dick and proceeded to piss all over Pete’s groin. While the spray of yellow piss hit his dick and nuts, Pete felt the hum of the dildo in his rectum. Then Jason gave the dial a twist and lightning shot through the agent’s body. He jerked up, lifting his foot, and his nipples were ripped at by the camps. His piss lips felt on fire, and a direct current went through his dick and right to the dildo in his ass.
Rob howled with laughter and danced with glee, his balls and cock bouncing as he hopped about with animalistic fervor.
But poor Pete Daniels’ torture was not only of the body. On the far wall of the white room, a new video began. “Uncle Bob,” as the boys had started to call Pete’s traitorous boss, was teaching Randy and Ryan how to jerk off.
“I’m surprised your dad never taught you how to do this. It’s the absolute most fun a boy can have.”
Bob sat on a bunk in the cabin of the yacht masturbating his nine-inch prick, fuck slop drooling over his hand. The two young boys watched him avidly and fingered their own tiny pricks.
“Dad’s pretty busy with his work. Besides, I’m not sure he would like this,” Randy said, frowning, his cute little face watching the masturbating man intently.
“Hey, boys, come on. He took bare-ass pictures with you, didn’t he? There was some touching and frigging going on then.”
“Yeah, but that was for a job he was working on. He explained it all to us. He said we were helping other boys by doing it with him.”
Randy could no longer refrain from placing two fingers on his own pencil prick and quickly jerking back and forth.
“Well, if that was to help other boys, this is to help yourselves. It’s healthy, good fun for you. Boys your age should be playing with your pricks two to three hours every single day, maybe more.”
“See Randy,” Ryan, the little one, piped up, his voice still thin and babyish, “I told you it was okay to do sex stuff.”
“Why, of course, it’s okay. Not only is it okay, but it’s necessary. If you want to grow up to have big dicks, so all the girls like you, you have to play with your cocks every single day. And you two are lucky, being brothers and nearly the same age and all, you can help each other out. It’s much nicer to have someone else jerk you than to jerk yourself. Why don’t you boys reach over and frig each other’s dicks? Don’t be shy, go on and try it.”
Pete Daniels bit down harder on the rubber plug in his mouth as he watched his two beautiful young sons reach out and begin to fondle each other’s cocks. The boys laughed and giggled as they pumped pricks while Bob Hagan beat his own drooling fuck slab and encouraged them.
“Of course, you boys can’t cum yet, but if you do this with each other every day for a couple of hours, you’ll be shooting spunk in no time. And then before you know it, you’ll be fucking girl pussy. It’s a beautiful sight, watching a young boy fucking cunt, his little ass bouncing as he tries to get his little prick in as deep as possible.”
“I don’t like girls,” little Ryan said, furiously yanking on his big brother’s little pink prick.
“That’s okay, too,” Bob Hagan laughed. “Hey, could you boys help me out? My dick could use a couple of hands on it too.”
“No...no...no,” Pete screamed into his rubber gag as his naked sons shyly reached out and began to pump Bob Hagan’s monster dick.
“It’s so big. Mine will never get that big,” Randy said in awe, his little fingers covered with prick slime.
“Look how big his pee hole is,” Ryan said, his own hand joining the frigging mess of fuck slop and dick flesh.
“That’s it, boys, very nice. Do you wanna know the secret of how my cock got this big?”
“Oh…yeah...please tell us,” Randy said, now pumping the huge dick with both his hands.
“The secret is cocksucking. Do you know what that is?”
“That’s icky...that’s what fags do,” Randy said, proud of his knowledge learned on the school playground.
“Yeah, that’s what they say ‘cause they don’t want other guys to have dicks as big as theirs. Actually, sucking cock and swallowing cum makes your own cock grow amazingly large. If you ever want your little peanut pricks to grow to a decent size, you better get to it and start sucking dick.”
Both boys looked down at their own tiny pricks.
“Andy Lomar at school has a really big dick,” Randy said, frowning at his own.
“I’ll bet you anything he sucks dick every day. He just doesn’t tell anybody.”
“Doesn’t it taste icky?” Ryan asked, looking at his fuck-slime-covered hand.
“Not at all. Oh, at first it’s a little different, but it’s a taste you get used to real fast, and then you actually get to love it. Look at all the girls who are cocksuckers. If they can do it, so can a boy, especially if it gives him a big dick. It’s like taking vitamins. Cup and squeezed my balls while you are frigging me, will you?”
Randy chewed his lip, considering. He wanted a big dick like some of the other boys in the locker room at school.
“I want a big dick,” he said finally.
Bob smiled a kindly smile.
“Well, if you really want to try it, I’ll be glad to help you out. Really, it’s your father who should be helping you, but since he’s busy working, you can suck my dick if you really want to.”
“NOOO!” Pete screamed through his rubber gag, his face was bright red with exertion, as his mind raged at the subtle seduction of his sons, and then, Rob started to fuck him in his dick with a long metal rod, and a new priority of pain took over.
Willard Feeley, a not too bright but awfully loyal member of Mr. Black’s organization, stood before the desk of his boss, giving his report.
“So I’m driving down Eighth Avenue right about Forty-eighth Street, see. Right near that video store that sells all them kinky ones like you make under the counter. Anyway, I looks over to my left to see what’s new in the store window. Well, right next to the video store is this long blank brick wall that they sometimes fill up with posters for Cats and shit like that. So I look at the wall...”
Mr. Black tapped one well-manicured fingernail on the glass desktop.
“Get to the point, Willard.”
“Yeah, sure, well, the point is the wall. I looks at the wall, and someone has covered it with graffitti...you know…spray paint...the kind that kind of glows in the dark. And do you know what the spray paint on the wall says?”
Mr. Black pursed his lips.
“No, Willard, if I did know, there would be no point in this conversation, would there?
“Yeah...sure...anyway, I flipped out. I fucking flipped out.”
“Well, flip me out too, Willard, before I lose my patience.”
“The writing on the wall said, big as you can imagine, MR. BLACK, I HAVE THE DISC. COME AND GET ME. And right in front of the wall is this little brown kid, a street kid.”
Mr. Black’s eyes grew tight and dark, like a shark’s eyes. Then he threw back his head and laughed long and hard. He laughed harder than he had in weeks.
“The fucking little genius, he’s looking for us. He wants us to find him. The talented little cunt wants to trade.” Mr. Black laughed again and took a sip of his martini. “He’s a fucking lot more brilliant than my stupid twat of a fuckup nephew, I’ll tell you that. Okay, Willard, take a car and someone with you and pick up the boy. And be polite and nice and no rough stuff, you hear?”
“Aw, boss, ain’t we gonna fuck him?”
“No...no, we ain’t. There are plenty of boys around to fuck, and it looks to me as if this brilliant little Indian boy has screwed us.”
Mr. Black laughed again.
Across town, Raj leaned against his artwork, patiently waiting for someone to make contact with him. When it happened, of course, it was the wrong person. It was Carson the Cop. Carson was a mean, sadistic son of a bitch who hated anything with brown or yellow or red skin. His home was filled with neo-Nazi crap. So, of course, he was the perfect New York City cop. Crime was down in the Big Apple, and if some poor nigger ended up with fifty bullet holes in him, well, “Them’s the breaks,” as William Shakespeare used to say.
Carson, the Cop loved his beat. Love to beat up on the little hustlers working Eighth Avenue. In fact, hurting teenage boys provided Carson with eighty-five percent of his sexual fantasies. Brittany Spears accounted for the other fifteen percent.
“Well, well, well, what have we here? A little brown street artist?” the cop smiled, looking down at Raj, who was still leaning against the wall.
“I didn’t do nothing,” the kid said. “It was like this when I got here.”
“How old are you, cunt?” the cop asked, not very kindly.
“Thirteen, sir, and I don’t appreciate you calling me that. I got rights.”
Carson leaned down to put his face close to the boy’s face.
“You got rights? A fucking wog, .a spear chucking curry-slopping Hindu cunt rag has rights? I don’t think so. And besides, fuckwad, you got paint on your fingers. It’s not nice to lie to the law, young man. You need to be punished for that. What say we take a little walk between these buildings?”
Carson was thirty-five, and six foot four inches of mean muscle.
“I’d rather not if you don’t mind,” Raj murmured, looking much younger than his thirteen years.
“Oh…but I do mind, dickbreath. I do. It’s either take a little walk with me, or get dragged down to the station, and something tells me you wouldn’t have a very good time there.”
Raj took a walk. He could not risk jail now. Not when he was so close to victory and total freedom. He simply had to put up with the cop’s abuse.
“This is far enough. Now, we gotta teach young wogs like you not to write on buildings with spray paint, so let’s start by having you get down on the ground and lick my shoes clean.”
The boy had the sweetest face, which now fell into a funk that gave Carson an instant hard-on. The boy fell to the dirty sidewalk and put his face down to the cop’s filthy shoes. He extended his tongue and started to lick. His years of abuse at the hands of his uncle and various customers made it easy for him to play the submissive role. He tongued the filthy leather.
“That’s a good little Gunga Din. Yeah…you’re a natural my boy. Doesn’t take much for a cunt like you to realize your proper place in life. Now I’ve got something else for you to lick. Look up here.”
The cop’s dick was nine inches long and leaking pre-fuck and slick with sweat.
“Here you are, boy, a nice fat dick for you to lick. Come on, don’t be shy, I know you want it. You disgusting thirteen-year-old cocksucking fag. Come on, gobble it down.”
Well, it was not the worst cock on the ugliest guy Raj had ever sucked. It was actually kind of impressive, and Carson the Cop was handsome in a rugged mean sort of way. Raj did not enjoy the part when Carson, still getting his cock sucked by the teen, reached down and undid Raj’s jeans and slid them down along with the boy’s underpants. He did not like it when the cop took his gun from the holster and ran the barrel of the magnum up and down his little brown ass crack. Raj’s breathing grew more labored, and he swallowed more dick. He tried to get as much cock down his throat as possible, hoping to distract and please the sadistic policeman, but Carson was determined to force the gun barrel into Raj’s asshole. Raj moaned and wiggled, trying to break loose, but Carson held him, face impaled on his dick as he forced more and more of the weapon up the kid’s rectum.
“Oh, yeah...oh, yeah...how does it feel to have a big old gun up your whore twat, huh? How does that feel? Good? Come on, you fucked out hole, ride that gun. Get it into your pussy. Keep sucking, cuntface, or I’ll pull the fucking trigger.”
Raj was choking on the thick spitting prick in his gullet. His face was buried in the cop’s prick hair, the big fat hairy balls pressed against his chin. It seemed to poor Raj that he had spent half of his life with a dick in his mouth, and that was not far from true. The gun barrel itself did not bother the boy much since he had far larger objects fucked into his asshole, but the sight on the gun scraped and ripped at his ass lining, and he feared that the damn thing might go off. He sucked and choked harder, trying to bring the cop off.
“Oh, no, you don’t. I know your game; you want me to cum quick to spoil my fun.”
Carson pulled out and away from the boy, ripping the gun from the kid’s ass-pussy. Raj fell to the cement, choking, coughing while spitting up pre-cum, as one hand went to his ass to massage his aching hole.
“Now, we’re gonna play a little game. It’s called Carson the Cop puts his fist up the little wog’s pussy.”
“Your fist is awfully big, sir,” Raj whispered respectfully.
“Oh, come on, twat. You probably got the loosest cunt of any thirteen-year-old in New York. Besides, think of the fun it will be, trying to get my whole hand up your dick ditch. And it might teach you some manners. So strip off bare-assed. I wanna see your little brown body squirm when I shove my fist up that whore twat. And besides, if I hurt you, who the fuck will care?”
“We will,” came the deep low voice of Willard Feeley, as he brought the black jack handle down on the back of Carson’s head. Raj, lying in the dirt, looked up at the huge gangster.
“Mr. Black requests your appearance for an interview, young man, so if you are feeling up to it, I suggest you pull up your pants, and we go.”
Raj wiped his ass with the unconscious cop’s shirttail, and then he stared at the gangster.
“Can I take his gun?”
“You’re quite the kid, kid. Sure, why the fuck not?”
Sasha Tausniansky was not saying much. The poor teenage boy had been fucked nearly senseless and used for three days straight, night and day. However, that was not the reason for his current silence. He was tied to Jeff Black’s bed, on his back arms and legs spread, with a plastic funnel in his mouth. He gagged and choked around the spout of the funnel.
Jeff was bare-assed and gingerly fingering his own giant dick. He was testing it to see if the pain in his pisshole had abated enough to allow him to have a good fuck. He had not fucked since Thailand, and it was killing him. Although it still hurt a bit, it could not hurt as much as Sasha’s prick did.
Sasha had small clips on his piss lips, holding his urethra stretched wide open. For a teenage boy just blossoming into young adulthood, the kid had a nice big dick— more meat to tenderize and torture. The very edges of the piss lips were pulled back, so the cock hole opened like a little flower. The worst part of it was that the exposed inner piss lips were terribly sensitive. Jeff just had to blow on them, and the kid went nuts. When he swabbed the inner piss hole with a Q-tip covered with Bengay, the Russian teen went fucking nuts.
In a fit of curiosity, when Jeff still was unable to fuck, he had shaved off all of the boy’s prick hair—his naked groin made his teenage dick look even more significant than it was. Then Jeff had entertained himself plucking out all of the Russian boy’s black ball hair. Sasha would buck on the bed like a wild animal as Jeff grasped two or three newly grown black sack hairs with tweezers and roughly pulled them out.
Now, his new game promised to be interesting, and besides, Jeff’s dick was working again. Jeff carried three one-quart jars to the bedside table.
“These jars are from my uncle’s storage room. We have to change them frequently to keep the cum fresh. We use it in our films. One of these quart jars is filled with the jizz of college-age guys. The second jar is full of cum from boys of thirteen and fourteen, and the third jar is full of dog cum. Your job is to see if you can tell the difference.” The boy tried to protest, but the funnel in his mouth made it impossible. Jeff laughed and opened one of the jars. “We have to be careful and not waste any. It takes forever to fill one of these jars, as you can imagine. Here we go, now swallow like a good little cumdump.”
Jeff tilted the jar, so the cum slopped down into the funnel and into the boy’s mouth. Poor young Sasha had swallowed loads of cum in the last few days, but nothing like this. It clogged his mouth and throat. It backed up into his nose. The thick dick slime dripped down into his lungs like snot when one has a cold, and it ran down his gullet into his tummy.
“Now, which do you think this is, Sasha? A. college jock slime, B. little boy cum, or C. doggie spooge? Come on, cunt, I want an answer. Here comes some more. Keep swallowing. If you think this is A. blind once, B.blink twice, or C. blink three times.
“A? You think this is college boy cum slopping its way into your swollen tummy? Ha, ha, sorry, wrong. This is fresh four-legged doggie sperm you are swallowing. It’s leftover from Gino the Dog Boy, a video we made where a fifteen-year-old boy was fed on only dog cum for an entire week. Of course, he was fucked incessantly by dogs for that whole week too. It was a really successful film. Fifteen-year-old Gino wasn’t too happy about it I can tell you that. Especially when he discovered that the next film he would star in was called Donkey Boy Gino. Oh…you should have seen the fuss he made, but we finally got him in line. He’s turned out to be a fine little actor too. I mean, how many teenage boys do you know who can actually convince you they are in love with a donkey?
“Here, drink a little more.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Don’t bother me, I’m busy,” Jeff snapped, but the knock was repeated, so his hard-on swinging before his bouncing balls, he strode on naked feet to the door and swung it open.
“Boss, there’s this old guy to see you,” Archie, his bodyguard, sputtered.
“Archie, would you like a trip to our training facility? I told you I’m busy feeding little Sasha dinner. Now please leave me alone before I lose my temper.”
“I think you better see him, boss…”
“What does he want?”
“He won’t say. Just that he wants to see you, and he has come a long way.”
“If he won’t say, throw him out.”
Jeff turned his back on Archie, and the gangster could not help but admire the college boy’s tight round ass.
“Eh…we tried that. It…ah… didn’t work,” a nervous Archie replied.
“What the fuck do you mean, it didn’t work?”
“Five of us tried to throw the old guy out, but he beat the shit out of them, and sent me to get you.”
“Well, fucking shoot the fucker. I don’t care. You’re my fucking bodyguard, so guard already, guard!”
Suddenly, Archie rose up in the air four feet. His legs twisted every which way while his torso flopped like a lobster in the boil. He made a sound kind of like that too. Then he was tossed aside, and Jeff Black found himself facing a small old Chinese man wearing baggy trousers and a light summer jacket.
“Ne Hao,” the chink said, putting his hands together and bowing.
He only came up to Jeff’s tits for Christ’s sake. Jeff briefly wished he had some clothing on, or that at least his hard dick would go down.
“Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck do you want?”
“I am the sifu and stepfather of Mr. Black, your uncle, I believe, and I am seeking him. He is not easy to find.” The man had a pleasing voice, quite musical.
“And my men, what you did to my fucking men?”
“A thousand pardons, but my mission is urgent. I must be back in China for the opera season. Your men were not only uncooperative but also quite rude.”
The Chinese sifu looked beyond Jeff at the Russian teenage boy tied spread eagle to the bed with his penis lips clipped, his balls tied up with leather, and a funnel in his mouth.
“Ah…I see you share your uncle’s tastes. Tell me, please, does this young man wish to be in this position?”
“Fuck, yeah, that’s the only way he can sleep.”
Jeff slammed the door and locked it. He then turned to put on some boxer shorts. The next instant, the door was off the hinges, banging to the floor.
“I think you are making a joke. An American joke, perhaps.” The small man stepped into the room. Jeff, holding his underpants, turned to face him. Jeff was getting scared now. “Americans say China is enslaved, not free. Politically that is true, but there is much more violence done in America in one day, especially to the young, than in China in a year. We had our holocaust under Chairman Mao. Horrible things were done, but I look around your country and see on TV that a man can win a million or lose face in front of a nation watching. I see men eating each other alive for profit and gain. I see much pain, but I do not see my son, Mr. Black, so please direct me to him. Sorry about the door.”
Jeff could not believe his ears. He could not believe this was happening. Where were his men? Why was it silent in the other room?
“Archie? Mac? Tito?” Jeff called, holding his underpants in front of his dick.
“Sorry, but my brother’s son is keeping your men company so that I may speak with you. Now again, where is Mr. Black? I must find him tonight.”
“What in fucking hell makes you think I will tell you?”
“You are a young stud, ne? You wish to keep your balls?”
The old man’s eyes twinkled. Jeff blinked. The old man never did.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“At the temple, in China, we tell a student a thing one time only. If he has trouble hearing, we help him with a bamboo stick.”
Jeff was near enough to the bedside table. On the table lay his Colt automatic—three feet at most. He smiled and then hurled his underpants at the old Chinese man and dove for the gun. His fingers came up two inches short. He was picked up and flung across the room. He landed on his back with the Chinese sifu standing above him, one foot on his stomach, the sifu’s left hand reaching down to grab Jeff’s heavy scrotum.
“I do not have time for games. Where is Mr. Blac?”
The Chinese squeezed the kid’s nuts hard. Jeff almost blacked out from the pain. The soft sole of the Oriental’s shoe pressed down into Jeff’s gut.
“He’s...he’s not in the country...” Jeff hissed through clenched teeth.
“Wrong answer,” The Chinese man pulled the young man up off the floor by his nuts, at the same time kicking him in the kidney. Fuck! How could such a small old man be so strong?
“Jeez...” Jeff groaned, “if...if I tell you...he’ll kill me.”
The martial arts master gripped the balls more tightly, as he slid one finger down and hooked it into the young jock’s asshole, and then he dragged Jeff Black across the room by his nuts and hole. The screams were almost inhuman. With the flick of a long, sharp fingernail, the Chinese man sliced off one of Jeff’s nipples. Jeff’s hand went to his bloody chest.
“Do not force me to lose my temper. It takes much meditation and prayer to achieve a peaceful disposition. Next, I slip my nail into the hole in your penis and slice it open.”
“Oh…Jesus…oh, God…no…no…please…leave me alone. You’re not human. You’re not real.”
“I look at the poor boy on the bed and wonder at you calling me not human. Quickly, where is Mr. Black?”
The old man raised one hand flexing the fingers, the long nails gleaming in the bedside lamplight.
“Okay…okay…shit…he lives in a penthouse overlooking Central Park, next door to the old Saint Moritz Hotel. Top floor, but you’ll never make it through the lobby.”
The sifu studied Jeff’s pained face for a moment. Satisfied that Jeff had told him the truth, he released the stretched scrotum.
“Thank you. You have been most cooperative.” The sifu turned to leave the room, but the boy on the bed groaned, and he turned back. “I get the distinct feeling that this boy is not here of his own free will.”
The Chines man crossed to the bed and removed the funnel from the beautiful Russian boy’s swollen lips.
“He…he…he…help me...puh...please…help me...” the boy mumbled through cum-coated lips. His throat was so clogged with cum that he could hardly make himself understood.
“I think I will take this boy with me,” the old Chinese man said.
He leaned across the bed to undo the bindings, and that was when Jeff Black went for the gun. It was a foolish move. True, the Chinese man was on the opposite side of the king-size bed. True, Jeff was right on top of the gun. True, Jeff felt his fingers close around the handle of the Colt as he raised it to fire blindly
But when the gun went off, the old man was no longer there. He had leaped into the air and came down on top of Jeff. One hand slapped the automatic from Jeff Black’s hand, as the other slapped his face in the opposite direction. Jeff felt his shoulder dislocate. He heard a cracking sound. He fell to the floor. Blood from his titless right pap soaked the white carpet. The Chinese man then finished unbinding the boy and picked him up in his arms.
“Can you walk?” he asked gently.
“I don’t think so...not right now...they fucked me over a hundred times.”
The old man smiled tenderly at the pain-wracked Russian boy.
“I know an excellent Chinese doctor. He will take away your pain and make certain you heal back to normal.”
The sifu left the bedroom carrying the boy in his arms. That was just the chance Jeff needed, or so he thought. He just could not leave well enough alone. Jeff crawled to his knees, one arm hanging limp, blood running down across his chest into his stomach and prick hair. He picked up the gun and staggered to the bedroom door. The Chinese man had thrown a coat over the naked boy, and once again had him in his arms. A Chinese boy of about fifteen stood by the front door. Jeff’s men lay about the room like broken toys.
“Hold it right there, you fucker!” Jeff screamed.
Jeff Black was fiercely handsome in his muscular agony, his hair hanging in his eyes, his face screwed up with pain and hatred. His naked body tense, his big cock swinging limp. The fucking chink was twenty feet away across the room at the front door—an impossible distance for any of his kung fu fuck, but the perfect distance for a bullet. He’d plow all three of them!
“Don’t be a foolish, young man. Mend your ways.” The old man said pleasantly.
Jeff spit, then laughed, then squeezed the trigger. The explosion was fierce from the Colt. That was one of the things Jeff liked about it. It was a macho gun. A do not fuck with me gun, a gun owner’s macho gun, a Charlton Heston special.
With the boy still in his arms, the Chinese master flicked one hand and opened a fan. With the fan or with a twist of his body, Jeff could not tell which, he seemed to deflect the bullet or somehow dodge it before he hurled the fan across the room with such force that the sharp edge of the paper sliced through Jeff Black’s jugular vein.
The last moments of his life were not painful. Pain and humiliation had been his trademarks, but his death was almost calm. He stood there rocking on his feet, blood gushing from his neck in an arc, forming patterns around him on the white carpet. His eyes looked mystified, his lids batted a few times. His handsome college boy face relaxed as he dropped to his knees and fell on his face. The Chinese man at the door shook his head sadly.
“For that action alone, I shall surely return as a dog!”
“But he was a cruel man, a monster. You did a good thing,” the Chinese boy at his side said.
“To harm anything in this world is never good. It may be necessary. It may be the only thing to do, but it is never good. I shall return as a dog.”
Speaking of dogs, the Doberman Pinscher lay in the corner of the white room, licking his balls while Pete Daniels lay on his stomach, cum leaking from his fucked asshole. Rob and Jason were out of the room, taking a break.
The multi-talented dog was on guard. The huge black man with the thirteen-inch cock had not been around in a few hours. Pete was not yet dead. He rolled over onto his back, and the dog lifted his head and studied his former lover. Pete could still taste the shit between his teeth from Rob’s last dump. He would always remember the taste of the shit.
But those hotshot fucker surfer sadists had made a mistake. They had made a big mistake. To allow Pete to crawl around the room during his doggie duty entertainment, they had uncuffed him, and after the agent had been fucked into a stupor, they had left the room with him still uncuffed. So for the first time in days, his hands were free. The steel cuffs were lying a scant few inches from his left hand.
The Doberman, whose name was Soldier, padded nearer, the big dog dick coming out of its sheath. Christ, was he never satisfied?
Pete did not know how well he could move. He did not know if he could move, but he knew he would never let the dog get at him again.
The animal tried, dick and jowls drooling. Pete swung the steel handcuffs into the mutt’s head.
The dog was not seriously hurt. You do not harm a dog like that easily, but it did diminish Soldier’s sexual interest and gave him a healthy respect for Pete. The animal ran into the far corner and whimpered and licked his balls some more.
Pete struggled to his knees. He needed something for a weapon, something, anything, but there was nothing in this fucking white empty room. Nothing except for a wall screen displaying the shocking videos of his sons indulging in sexual play. There must be a projector, perhaps rear-projected? He could not get behind the wall, but that did give him an idea.
Surely they were taping his torture sessions for further pleasure and perhaps profit. That meant cameras, but where? High up in the corners, Pete spotted the small cameras. If his torturers were watching now, they would soon be in. He jumped for one of the cameras but came up three feet short. The exertion brought him back to his knees. The dog looked interested but cautious. The white folding chair that Jason had sat on was against one wall, almost invisible. Pete picked it up, took careful aim, and threw it at the camera near the ceiling. He heard a sputter and a spurt before the camera fell. Pete caught it in his hands.
There was no time to think now, only to act. The door wall in the wall slid open, and as the naked Bobbsey Twins entered, Pete threw the camera at Jason, hitting him in the head. As the blond hunk fell, Rob turned to make a hasty retreat, but Pete hurled the folding chair, and it caught the sadistic college boy on the back of his neck.
Pete limped across the room, picked up the chair, and battered it down onto Rob’s body and head. Jason was seated in the hall, holding his bloody head in his hands. Rob stopped moving, and Pete threw the metal chair at Jason, hitting the dazed boy in the face, destroying his surfer beach boy good looks. There was no time for revenge, but Pete could not resist shoving the leg of the folding chair up Jason’s asshole. Jason lay there, twitching.
Pete was so exhausted that he fell to the floor and lay with his head on Jason’s stuffed ass. He had to keep moving, but he just could not until he heard a growl from in the room. Christ, his body ached. He had never hurt so much in so many places. He started to crawl down the hall. His breathing was labored, and he hadn’t any strength left. Worse yet, he didn’t know where he was going.
“Strip bare-assed, kid. I’ll hold your gun for you,” Willard told Raj, the thirteen-year-old Indian boy. “The boss will only see you if you are bare-assed.”
The brown teenager took off his clothes and entered Mr. Black’s office. Mr. Black smiled and tapped the glass desk with his perfectly manicured nails. He studied the small boy’s slender body and teenage dick and balls, very lovely indeed—and a perfect ass for fucking.
“Well…well…well, so you’re the young man who has been causing me all this trouble. I admire your tenacity. Tell me, what is it you want from me?”
Raj thrust out his hips, unafraid to display his dick and balls to this pervert, this boy fucker, this pornographer. His prick began to stiffen, a trick he had learned while entertaining men.
“No…no, sir, suppose you tell me what it is that I have that you want from me!”
Thirteen-year-old Raj stood bare-ass naked before Mr. Black, but he showed no fear. Fuck, he had been forced to be naked before lots of men and made to do much worse. He had spread his ass cheeks in front of rooms full of men and finger fucked himself. He had dance naked at parties and fucked his ass with an ear of sweet corn. Customers had pissed and shit in his mouth, made him suck cum from freshly fucked assholes and blown their noses in his mouth. His uncle had forced him to shove hot curry up his asshole, and then he was forced to eat it out with a spoon—that was the kind of thing his uncle thought was very funny. And then just recently, he had killed a man. Dr. Dittman, the pederast.
So nothing much scared Raj anymore. He figured, what the fuck, he had little to lose. He was a bit tense, however, facing the legendary Mr. Black, who looked every bit as handsome and cruel as his reputation painted him to be. Raj felt his balls draw up tight in their fuck sack. His nipples got bullet hard. His throat grew dry.
“I have what you want, Mr. Black, a certain computer disc. You can’t torture me to find the location because I will freely tell you. It’s in an envelope on the desk of a former fuck date of mine, a guy who works for the New York Times. If I don’t show up to reclaim it in person, he opens the envelope and puts the disc in his computer.” Raj curled his naked toes in the thick white rug. “What I want...is a new start in life. I want to go to school, and I want revenge on my uncle, the man who sold my ass for money. This disc is worth billions to you, and it could mean jail terms for lots of baby fuckers, so I want two million dollars. I could demand more, but I’m not greedy, Mr. Black. I just want a chance at life.”
Mr. Black studied the naked boy’s lean torso. He stared at the cute teen prick, and the tight wrinkled scrotum. Damn, this kid had balls in more than one respect.
“How do I know you won’t take the money and then still turn the disc over to the press or the cops?”
Raj smirked at Mr. Black.
“You don’t. Your world is filled with backstabbing and betrayal. For once, you’ll just have to trust somebody else. I hear your word is good and that you never break it. Well, I’m only thirteen, but my word is good too. I promise I’ll destroy the disc or deliver it wherever you want. But I want two million dollars.”
Mr. Black frowned. Just then, the phone rang. He picked it up and listened. His mouth puckered, and his lips worked in and out as he grew pale with the news he heard.
“How long ago was this? Well, clean up the mess and get rid of Jeff’s body. He got what he deserved. ‘As ye sow, so shall ye reap!’ Yes, it does seem like the sky is falling, but do not fret. It is not the end of the world. It’s just the end of our current enterprises. We must take our stashed billions and regroup!”
Mr. Black adjusted his breathing as he set the phone gently into its cradle, closed his eyes, and got a bemused expression on his lips.
“Well, now, young Raj, things have fallen out right for you. You have gumption. I like that. You have a good head for business, reminds me of me when I was young. I would love to play with you, of course, see if I could fuck up your mind and your pretty little body so badly that you would gladly give the disc to me, but I haven’t the time. And so...”
Mr. Black rose from his desk and walked nearer the boy. Raj stiffened, ready to face his own demise. He wanted—no, needed—to pee badly. Sweat dripped from the crack of his beautiful ass. Mr. Black walked to a framed picture of King Rama V of Thailand and moved it to one side. He opened the wall safe, took a small suitcase from the corner, and proceeded to fill it with wads of money. Then he brought it back to the boy.
“You’re too modest, young man. A boy can’t get a decent start in America today on two million, so I’m giving you five. It may be the only break you ever get in life, so take advantage of it. Now, get your bare little ass out of here before I fuck you on the rug. I’ve got serious work to do.”
Raj looked at the suitcase with wide eyes. He had not expected it would be so easy and that the man had millions in a safe in his apartment. Mr. Black smiled.
“Rainy day money...and right now, it’s storming, so get your ass out of here.”
Raj turned and left the room, passing a shocked open-mouthed Willard. Raj dressed quickly in the hall and ran to the elevator. Mr. Black called Sammy and Willard into his office.
“We are shutting down all warehouses, studios, and clubs at once. You all have contingency funds set aside. I am retiring as of this instant. I still intend to pursue my hobbies, of course, but for the present, at least, in a more personal and private way. Shut down all operations immediately.”
“What about all the actors, all the kids, we got fucking and sucking for us?”
Mr. Black raised his hands in a kind of benediction.
“Let them go back to their families and friends, to their normal lives. Let them fuck only for pleasure. They have served my bank account well. No…wait...let’s keep David, the cute little Chink, and Chad and Johnny and his wife, and darling little Danny with us for a while. Just put their lives on hold. Tell them they will certainly hear from us. Now, I have to get out of here at once. We are about to receive a most unusual visitor.”
The double doors to the office flew open, and a naked and very bloody Rob stood there holding his battered shoulder with one hand. The young surfer dude was half crying.
“The fucking FBI agent has escaped boss. It wasn’t my fault.”
“All the more reason for us to leave at once.”
“I’m hurt, boss. I need medical attention bad. Help me.”
“Sorry, Rob, but I’m in the middle of downsizing the company.”
Mr. Black pulled a Beretta automatic from his coat pocket and put three well-placed bullet holes into the young blond sadist.
“Boss…you killed him,” Sammy said. (Leave it to him to labor the obvious.)
“Yes, he would have slowed us down. We have to move like lightning. Sammy, you destroy everything on the computers. Willard, empty out my desk and shred, shred, shred as fast as you can. I’m packing a bit of fun money for the three of us.”
Ralph P. Kretchmer, a chubby pig of a man with beady little eyes and long untrimmed eyebrows, prided himself on his no-nonsense attitude as a security guard. It had landed him this cushy job in one of Manhattan’s most exclusive buildings. He had hair growing out of his ears, but none on the top of his head. He was not what you would call attractive.
Ralph loved his gun, and he loved his blue uniform, even though he needed larger and larger sizes to cover his expanding belly. Ralph had no sex life to speak of. He jacked-off to dirty stories on the internet and once in a great while picked up a hooker, but the bitches were charging more and more. A guy used to be able to get a decent blowjob for twenty bucks. Ralph’s taste in dirty books and videos ran along the lines of big black men who beat the shit out of small young blond girls. Those were his favorites.
Not that in real life, he would enjoy beating the shit out of a nigger or two. He hated what they—fucking niggers, and Indians, and Arabs, and Spicks, and Jews—had done to his neighborhood. Ralph was a conservative Republican of German heritage. Sometimes people thought his name was a Jew name, and he got really pissed.
He just knew it was going to be one of those nights when a man wearing nothing but a raincoat limped across the lobby on bare feet and ran out the door. Next, a little Indian boy appeared, lugging a big old suitcase. He almost stopped the kid, but shit, his job was to prevent people from going up, not from coming down. Nobody got by Ralph on the way up. If you were not on the list, you just did not go up.
Now, that’s not what the fucking Chink thought. Two Chinks actually, one old guy and a kid.
“Mr. Black, please,” the Chinese man had said a pleasant, polite smile on his face.
“Ain’t no Mr. Black lives here,” Ralph barked, keeping his eyes on the Hustler magazine he was reading.
“Oh…sorry. Yes, Mr. Black lives in the penthouse, I am sure.”
“Look, Charlie, you’re wrong.”
Fuck it! Ralph had to set his magazine aside. He looked down from behind his impressive high desk.
“The penthouse is owned by the reclusive and very wealthy film producer, Mr. William Blackmann.”
The Chinese man smiled at the pompous guard.
“That’s him. I want to go up, please.”
Now Ralph was losing his patience. He took out his list.
“Are you on the list? Nope, I don’t see any Chinks on the list, sorry, chop-chop, goodbye.”
Ralph chuckled at his own sense of humor and went back to the colored photo of the tennis pro fucking one of his clients. The Chinese man did not move. He stood very still, did not blink even, and then after a time, respectfully spoke again.
“I must see Mr. Black...or Blackmann, please. It is very urgent.”
Ralph felt his Mexican dinner dancing around in his stomach. Fuck this fucking slant eyes. He was getting his ulcer worked up.
“In five seconds, it will be very urgent for me to kick your fucking scrawny yellow ass through the door.”
Nobody messed with Ralph Kretchmer.
“Please, I have no time to spare. I have already had to kill one man tonight, and my heart is heavy.”
Tacos jumped right back up into Ralph’s throat on that one.
“What the fuck?” he said, reaching for his gun.
Just then, the elevator door opened. Mr. Black, carrying a black trench coat over his arm and a briefcase in his hand, stepped into the lobby, took one look at the Chinese guy, spun around and stepped back into the elevator again, and closed the door. The three people in the lobby watched the lighted floor buttons going back up.
“He’s getting away,” the Chinese boy said.
They all watched the elevator rise back up to the top floor.
“Not unless he can fly,” the old man commented, not moving an inch.
“Will somebody kindly tell me what the fuck is going on?” Ralph wheezed, waddling from behind his desk over to the elevator bank.
It was about that time they heard the sirens and saw the flashing lights as New York’s finest and the FBI pulled up outside the building, responding to Pete’s emergency call.
“What are we gonna do, boss?” Willard whined back upstairs in Black’s apartment.
Mr. Black hated whiners, so he shot Willard. Then he quickly dragged a large, very slender black case from the closet, the kind artists keep their sketches in. He turned back to Sammy.
“Quickly back to the elevator.”
“Wait a minute, boss, “the Asian growled, looking at Willard’s body on the floor. “How do I know you ain’t gonna plug me too?”
“I only kill when I have to. Don’t make me have to. Come on.”
While the FBI was going up in one elevator, Mr. Black was on his way down in the other, but only to the forty-fourth floor.
“What’s on floor forty-four?” the Chinese asked, refusing to allow the police to push him aside.
“Another apartment with a rooftop garden,” Ralph wheezed, scratching his bald head.
The old Chinese man put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and seemed visibly shaken.
“He cannot escape,” he said to himself and the boy, “unless he can fly.”
Mr. Black kicked in the door to the apartment on forty-four. He heard someone yelling in the bedroom, so he quickly moved there, lugging the portfolio case. The owner of the condo, Mr. Raymond Snyder, was in bed with the babysitter. The babysitter was fifteen. She was getting fucked. Well, not exactly, she was on top of Raymond Snyder riding his dick and slapping his naked pasty torso.
“Come on, shoot, you old fucker, shoot,” the girl screamed, bouncing on the seven-inch prick while her cheerleader tits bounced and her pink nipples just about spit.
Raymond, forty-six, recently divorced with two kids, could not control his dick, but he threw his head from side to side.
“Shut up, you dumb cunt. I tell you I heard a crash.”
“But the brats are with old cobweb cunt. We have all night to fuck. You promised Mr. Snyder. Now give me more dick!”
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to disturb you,” Mr. Black said, dragging the portfolio past them. Sammy, standing in the doorway with his gun in his hand, watched the bouncing tits of the teenage twat with some interest. Raymond’s dick began to wilt.
“Come on, you old fucker, don’t lose your boner now. I was just about to orgasm,” the teen slut screamed, pulling on her nipple tips and bouncing harder.
“Please, carry on. I only want to use your garden terrace for a few moments.”
Mr. Black moved out onto the terrace, and amid metal tables and chairs and lots of plants, he opened the case and began to screw together lengths of metal tubing.
“What are you doing in my apartment?” Raymond Snyder sputtered, his prick slopping out of the girl’s hairless pussy.
“Watching you fuck the twat,” Sammy leered.
“Oh…shit...fucking shit,” the cunt sobbed, flopping over on the bed and shoving three fingers up her hole to administer her own orgasm. “Fucking guys just never know what the fuck they’re doing!” She looked over at Sammy. “Hey, you wanna fuck me?”
“Betsy...” Raymond said with a hurt expression on his face.
“Shut up, fuckwad. Do you have a big dick, mister?”
“Nine inches,” Sammy bragged, twirling his gun like a bandito.
“And the handsome guy on the terrace, does he wanna fuck me?”
The girl was roughly twisting one nipple while she practically stuffed her whole hand up her twat.
“We both would like to, but the Feds are on our tail, so we can’t right now.”
She twisted her head around to look at Mr. Black.
“He’s cute. What’s he doing out there?”
Sammy shook his head and fingered his dick through his trousers.
“Damned if I know.”
Outside, Mr. Black had completed the frame, and now he stretched the black canvas over it and tied it tightly. It was completed in minutes because he worked with the practiced expertise that a military man uses to dismantle and reassemble a weapon.
“Holy shit,” Sammy said, “it’s a kite, a bit fucking Chinese kite.”
“Well, I’m off,” Mr. Black said. “You have enough money, right, Sammy?”
“Yeah, but how the fuck am I going to get out of here?”
Mr. Black smiled, and it sent shivers down the Asian’s spine, but then the smile softened.
“You’re not. You’re going to strip off your clothes, get in bed and screw the cunt. The old guy can suck your ass. The Feds will never believe you’re one of my men.”
The slut on the bed was breathing more heavily.
“Kewl, she cooed, flicking her clit faster and faster.
Raymond freaked out as Sammy started to strip.
“I won’t have it. I won’t be a part of this,” Raymond stammered.
“Fine,” Mr. Black said, “kill him and tell the cops I did it. Honey, if you keep your mouth shut except for cock, you are about to get some of the best dick you’ll ever have.”
“Fuck me...fuck me...oh…fuck me...”
The big titted cheerleader reached out her arms for Sammy, who was sliding off his white silk boxer shorts to reveal his thick prick.
“Please don’t make me do anything disgusting. I’ll just watch and not say a word. I won’t tell the cops.”
“Naw, it would be better if you were sucking my ass when they came in,” Sammy said, crawling up on the bed over the teenage cunt.
“I’m a well-known Wall Street investor. This could ruin my career.”
“Well, dying could put a serious dent in it as well.”
Raymond Snyder learned that evening how to suck a man’s ass. Mr. Black grabbed the handgrips on the huge black kite, and without a second thought, dove off the terrace into the Manhattan night, seconds before the FBI burst into the Snyder apartment.
Six Months Later
Raj sat on the couch in his apartment in New York. It was nothing fancy, but it was his for now until he was ready to move. He had a few loose ends to tie up. One of them knelt before him. His uncle, looking a bit worse for the beating he had received at the hands of the black dudes Raj had hired to reel him in.
The man on the floor shook with fear. He had already puked once from stark terror when they had stripped him naked and tattooed the words Baby Fucker on his chest and Cunt on his ass cheeks with a big arrow pointing to his asshole.
“You cannot do this to me, Raj. You’re my nephew, my flesh and blood. I love you.”
Raj sneered at his groveling uncle.
“Yeah, you showed your love every time you stuck a beer bottle up my ass or pissed in my mouth.”
He next spoke to the black dudes that he was compensating very well. They were big muscular guys with mean dark faces, thick lips, and shaved skulls.
“I want you to fuck him over and over and then piss and shit in his mouth. Then take him to Central Park and tie him naked to a tree with a sign, “Child Fucker,” around his neck. Leave him there. It’s up to fate, Uncle, what happens to you. Karma. Perhaps you will survive, possibly you will not. Take him away.”
Pete Daniels stood naked in his home, listening as his superior reported over the telephone. Pete now had a cushy desk job. He still limped a bit, and perhaps he always would, but the rest of his body had healed, even his ravaged asshole.
“How are the boys doing?” his boss asked him.
“Oh, they’re fine. You know kids. They have the capacity to get over lots of trauma.”
Yeah, right. Pete would never be able to tell anyone that his sons had been turned into willing perverts by Bob Hagen, or that it had started when Pete had them pose for those naked pictures. Was it something in Pete’s blood that had been passed on down to his own children, was sexual perversion hereditary?
“It’s a good thing we got to the yacht just as Bob Hagen, the bastard, was about to drown them. Well, that’s one more son of a bitch gone to hell. Too bad, Mr. Black escaped.”
“Yeah, but we did manage to crush his entire operation. We arrested over one hundred pedophiles.”
Pete started to play with his prick as he thought of the hundred or so videotapes he had personally stashed away from the Mr. Black archives. Tapes of boys getting mouth and ass fucked relentlessly. Tapes of boys crawling around on all fours like dogs, of doing things with dogs, and horses, and big black men, and you name it. Tapes of boys shoving things up their assholes and up their piss holes, and candle flames heating up their nipples and dickheads. Tapes of boys eating the shit from each other’s asses. Tapes of boys screaming as the belt lashed across their firm tight ass mounds, as the rod snapped up against their hairless swinging ball bags. Innocent young boys turned into fucking whores. Cock hounds. Mindless prick toys.
“Yes, Pete, you did a fine job.”
Pete hung up the telephone and returned to the bedroom where his two young sons romped on the bed naked.
“Dad,” Ryan complained,” Randy didn’t want to wait for you. He wanted to stick his dick up my cunt while you were on the phone.”
“Did not,” Randy the older boy said, pumping his cute little dick until his hairless balls danced. “Besides, Dad fucked you last night, it’s my turn now, isn’t it, Dad?”
Pete Daniels stood naked by the side of the bed, his thick fat fucker drooling pre-cum onto the sheet as his bare-assed sons crawled over to him with their cute smooth asses up in the air. He shook his head. How had it come to this? What magic had that fucker Bob Hagen worked to bring out his boys’ latent desires? And what about his deviant desires?
Both boys reached out and grasping the fat fuck slab in their small hands. Pete’s big dick gave a lurch and sprayed pre-fuck across Randy’s face.
“Let me suck it to get it ready for Randy’s ass,” Ryan said, his cute button nose wrinkling and his pink tongue coming out from between his full soft young lips.
“Let me suck it,” Randy pouted.
“Boys, boys, boys, easy, calm down.”
“It’s not fair,” Ryan said, his lower lip sticking way out.” Randy gets all the dick at school, sucking off the whole eighth grade.”
Pete’s prick gave a jump, but his eyes grew stern.
“Is that true, Randy? Are you sucking the cocks of the boys in the eighth grade?”
Pete grabbed the boy by the slender shoulders. The kid’s tits were just about exploding off his thin chest from pulling on them so much.
“Just some of them.” Then Randy got tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dad. I know we promised to keep this in the family, but I get so horny that I just can’t stand it. And the guys in school are so kewl and, well...”
“He sucks them all every day at lunch and after school,” Ryan tattled.
“How many boys’ cocks do you suck, Randy? Tell me the truth.”
Randy sniffed back a tear and looked up at his father.
“About thirty a week.”
“More, he sucks lots more. I know because all the guys talk about it.”
“Oh, dear god.”
Pete held his son close and stroked the smooth hairless skin of the boy’s chest and back. Randy turned his head and began to kiss his father’s hard prick, first on the stalk, and then on the drooling head. Ryan watched a moment, then crawled down and began to lick his dad’s big hairy nuts.
“I don’t want you boys ever to fight. You need to stick up for each other. Do you hear me? You both have been through some awful times, and you learned some things about yourself, some things the world doesn’t understand or approve of, so you have to be careful. Promise me you’ll be careful.”
The boys promised, but he did not understand a word they said because their mouths were all over his big fucking dick. He signed and reached down and began to finger fuck both his boys, who were soon laughing and licking up prick slop and pushing their assholes against their daddy’s fingers.
Mr. Black loved Lhasa. It reawakened his sense of peace. He said countless prayers, spun prayer wheels, studied the five truths and the eight paths, and counted his exercises on mala beads that he worked in his fingers all day. Then one afternoon upon leaving the simple austerity of the Yak Hotel, he found himself surrounded by a platoon of Red Guards.
“I’m a Chinese citizen,” he protested as they rummaged his backpack.
He stood in horror as they emptied the contents of the bag. Pamphlets and letters encouraging armed rebellion against the Chinese Government in Tibet, pictures of the Dalai Lama, anti-Chinese leaflets, which he had never placed there fell to the ground.
“Yes, you are Chinese, so we can take you directly to the Chinese labor camp outside of Lhasa. There you can labor for the People’s Republic for ten years or more.”
“I’ve been framed,” protested the usually calm Mr. Black. “A trial, what about a trial?”
“Yes, you will get a trial,” The officer laughed, “after six or seven years.”
On the balcony of the Yak Hotel, an old Chinese gentleman and his teenage escort smiled. Finally, there was closure to this disturbing matter. They sipped their yak butter tea and looked at the massive structure of the Potala Palace, the holy residence of the Dalai Lama before he had been forced to flee the country.
“I hope they take good care of my stepson. He has many reincarnations to suffer before he reaches enlightenment. It’s a beautiful world, ne?”
“Yes, it’s a beautiful world.”
This website is a service provider for the nonprofit, noncommercial purpose to allow authors to publish sexually explicit and extreme gay fictional literature. All the literature on this website is fictional. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Some of the literature may be very intense and may tend toward the extreme frequently depicting forced nudity, spanking, embarrassment, humiliation, and often, sadistic, non-consensual sexual abuse and other abuse of preteen and young teen boys. In real life, the behaviors depicted in the literature on this website are illegal in most countries. You may consider the behaviors and activities in the literature to be abusive, harmful, unacceptable, or undesirable, but all material on this site is legal in the country where posted and hosted. The literature does not, in any way, advocate, condone, endorse, encourage, promote, sanction, or support illegal behavior in real life.
United States federal law defines child pornography as any visual depiction of sexually explicit conduct involving a minor. The U.S. Supreme Court ruled on April 16, 2002, that adult material depicting minors not made through the use of any actual minor is protected free speech. The ruling was against the Child Pornography Prevention Act of 1996. The fictional literature on this website complies with Title 18 U.S. Code § 2256 as it does not involve an actual minor in any way. This website does not contain Child Sexual Abuse Material (CSAM)—no photographs, no films, no videos, no pictures, no computer or computer-generated images or pictures, whether made or produced by electronic, mechanical, or other means.
By viewing this website, you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of perjury that you are of legal age in your jurisdiction of citizenship and the jurisdiction in which you are in, and you are capable of making decisions about the content you wish to receive and view in conformance with your community's standards. Any use of maipenraikhap.org is an explicit action upon your part.
© 2015 - 2020 by maipenraikhap.org