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 By Wesley Crusher



 This story depicts sexual acts between a 16yo teenager and several men. This story is entirely fictional. The characters do not exist and the events described never happened. If such material offends you, cease reading this document.

 Chapter 1





The big man towered over the cowering boy.

"This is the third week running you've had a crap mark for your school work", bellowed the man, his face thunderous to look upon. At nearly 7 feet tall and 18 stone in weight, the towering hunk of male anger dwarfed the 16 year old lad who blinked up at his father with tearful frightened brown eyes.

"I'm sorry Dad, I'll do better next time, I promise," whimpered the cowering boy.

"You better do," his father roared or you're in big trouble!".

"Yes Sir," whispered the frightened boy.

"You better get on with you homework then, and you're grounded till next week and if your next weekly report is not good, then you'll wish you hadn't been born!"

The lad fled to his bedroom.

As Jack Sawyer watched his son disappear, he silently fumed. He couldn't understand his increasing irritation with Matt since his mother died four years ago. The last two years had been the worst. Maybe it was the fact that Matt looked too much like his mother. His mother was a stunningly attractive dark haired woman with a grace that made the average woman look clumsy.

Matt shared his mother's good looks and smooth complexion. His full mouth broadened into a smile that would melt any girl’s heart and yet it was healthily male in form and his inherited beauty was superbly crafted within a well sculpted male frame. His innate love of sports and swimming had encouraged the definition of his chest, arms, abdomen and legs and regularly attracted envious glances from both boys and girls.

Jack was a dedicated weight trainer and had brought Matt up to do likewise. He often watched as his son went through his routine just before bedtime, providing words of stricture if he felt his son wasn't putting 100% into the effort.

Whilst he knew he had every reason to be pleased with his son's progress, he still felt irritated with him. He was irritated that his son's nipples stood out so firm and full from his perspiring teen chest when he worked out. He was irritated that he had to wait until Matt wasn't looking at him before he could exercise his father’s right to run his eyes over his son's near naked body to check that his work with the weights was having the right effect. He was irritated that that Matt wore just a jockstrap instead of boxer shorts when working out and finally, he was irritated that he had to time his glances at the bulging pouch at the front of his son’s jockstrap.

Yes, he had every reason to be generally irritated with his handsome teenage son and his continued failure to get good marks on his course work gave him the excuse to flip. Deep down, he loved his son very much and just could not understand his feeling of irritation with Matt.


Matt knew that he deeply loved his father. He admired his body, he worshipped the very ground his father walked on. He would do anything to make his father proud of him. That was why he worked so hard to develop his body. He knew his father was right to be angry with him. English Literature and Art was just not his thing.

Now if it had been sports, then there would have been no problem; he was good at that and Coach Petersen had always thought highly of him. But then Coach Petersen had always been more like a buddy to him; like the time he offered to help him develop his weight lifting technique in the gym after school. He really respected the way the Coach always encouraged him to relax and be less formal when the rest of the class had gone. For example, the Coach always suggested that Matt shuck off his school shorts and to work out with just his jockstrap on. Coach had always said it was healthier for a boy’s body to be able to breathe without the constricting shorts. As it was just guys together, there wasn't a problem. Then there was the time coach trusted him by asking him to stand over his head and spot him. Of course it meant standing astride his head ready to hold the heavy barbell if necessary, but it didn't seem to bother the coach at all.....

But the tutors of English Literature and Art; well, they were just so un-cool and old. Mr. Johnson who taught English must have been 60, if not older, and the Art teacher…well, he was just strange!

Throughout the following days, Matt worked really hard. He tried to immerse himself in the wonders of Shakespeare and Dickens. Boy did he try…but the finer aspects of vicarious suffering and social commentary eluded him.


Mr. Johnson had lusted after young lad’s ever since he hit the middle age of 54. He needed desperately to feel young again and his perfect tonic was to drink in the sight of lovely young healthy boys and there was no more perfect an example as that young 16 year old Matt Sawyer. Phew! What a perfect present from the gods! Dark wavy hair, flashing eyes and broad shoulders crowned by a handsome face! Ye Gods! And the tight arse in those jeans!!! What a tease! Don’t even mention that heavenly male bulge between those firm legs! What a dream! Walt started to leak in his underpants even as he watched young Matt out of the corner of his eye.

Over the last few days, Walt had noticed that Matt was frowning a lot more in his class as though there was something unclear or troubling him. It’s true that his work was awful but Walt wasn’t worried about that; after all, he was compensated by the lovely vision of the boy- that was enough for him.

Thank goodness it was Friday, thought Walt, as he handed out the weekly course work.

Suddenly, the vision was in front of him as the rest of the class filed out to whoops of joy.

“Please Mr. Johnson; was my work really that bad? I’ve really tried hard to improve”

Walt’s heart fluttered as he gazed into the worried brown eyes of the lad.

“Sorry Matt, but you still need to improve a heck of a lot.”

“But my Dad will kill me if he sees this mark.”

The boy’s eyes started to water and his chest started to tremble.

Walt’s eyes were drawn to the neck of the lad where his shirt was open by three buttons, giving him a glimpse of the beginnings of a smooth chest. It gave him an idea.

“Don’t worry Matt; I’m sure we can sort something out.”

Walt laid his wrinkly hand upon the boy’s chest and felt the thumping heart as the lad strove not to burst into tears. He also felt the heat from the boy’s body and felt a full firm nipple under his thumb.

“Oh yes; I’m sure we can do something Matt,” said Walt, as he started to gently caress the boy’s nipple.

“Gee- thanks Mr. Johnson. That would be great. But how can I learn so much in time to improve my marks?”

“Don’t worry about that Matt. All you have to do is what I tell you; now that’s not difficult is it, son?”

“N-no, I guess not Mr. Johnson. Thanks,” the boy sniffled.

“Come with me then.”

Matt followed the English teacher into his office, his eyes widened as he took in the shelves of books on one side and the old antique chair behind a mahogany desk. He didn’t notice Mr. Johnson quietly turn the lock of the door.

Walt pulled the chair out and sat in it and guided Matt to stand in front of him.

“First thing I want you to do is relax; you can’t study when you’re tense like this.”

“Yes Mr. Johnson.” Matt drew in a big breath and let it out slowly as Walt laid both his hands on the boy’s chest, going through the pretence of massaging him.

“Oh yes, Matt- that’s nice- just relax.” Walt continued to gently rub the boy’s nipples through the shirt.

Matt found his eyes closing as he started to enjoy the warmth of his teacher’s hands on his chest, gently rubbing him. He didn’t notice that slowly, the buttons of his shirt were being undone.

Walt’s heart pounded as he slowly unbuttoned the lad’s shirt. A nicely defined pec came into view and Walt slid a hand across the firm hairless flesh.

Matt opened his eyes and started to move backwards, away from the rubbing, feeling hand but found the desk prevent any further retreat.

Walt looked up at the boy’s alarmed eyes.

“You have a choice, lad. Either you leave now and explain your results to your Father or, if you want a better mark, then stay here and do as you’re told.”

Walt enjoyed the confused anguish in the boy’s eyes; relished the difficult decision that faced the lad.

The boy’s eyes told everything as his body leaned against the edge of the desk, his face hanging in shame.

“That’s better,” said Walt as he finished unbuttoning the shirt and reaching up pulled it of his shoulders to let it hang down the back, exposing the good looking boy’s chest completely.

“You’re a handsome lad,” Walt crooned as his eyes fed upon the young stallion in front of him. He reached into his desk drawer and retrieved a bottle of baby oil.

“I usually use this oil for my hands,” said Walt. “But it’s also good for massaging.” Taking his time, he oiled up the chest of the boy, making it glisten and shine.

“Oh yes,” moaned Walt in appreciation as he looked at the young oiled Adonis. “…and now the massage.”

Walt continued massaging the lad’s pecs, rubbing his thumbs slowly across and around the lad’s full nipples. Matt shivered as the old man’s thumbs and fingers kept poking and plucking his nipples.

“Uuuunngh, ooooh, please, Sir, nooooooo, uunngh.” The built lad was starting to breathe heavily as the man relentlessly rubbed and assaulted the boy’s hard full nipples.

The man kept up the assault of one of the nipples as he moved his other hand down to slide over and fondle the teenager’s rippled abdomen. Then, moving down further, the old man’s hand grasped and rubbed the big bulge in the lad’s tight thin jeans. The boy threw his head back, arching his back as the needles of pleasure rushed through his body; thrusting his large bulge further into the old man’s clutching hand.

“Ooooooh, god, unnnngh, no, sir…please don’t, noooooo...”

The boy’s package completely filled the grasping man’s hand.

“Mmmmm, you’re quite a grown up lad, aren’t you Matt?” husked Walt, his own cock throbbing and leaking fully in his underpants. “Now, keep looking at me.”

Matt looked at his teacher, trying not to be distracted by the sexual torture that his left nipple was going through or the delicious feelings rushing from his massaged groin.

“Uuunggghh”, moaned Matt as he looked into his English teacher’s eyes, his breathing starting to become a pant.

Walt thrilled as he felt the hard teen cock and balls grow bigger under his gripping fingers.

“Are you wearing briefs or a jock, Matt?”

“Ooooh…unngh…er…aaahhh, a j-jock sir,” moaned the teen, his oiled torso writhing with pleasure.

“Mmmm, I love a boy in a jockstrap- it's so deliciously male,” moaned Walt, his left hand starting to pinch and pull the lad’s nipple whilst his other hand starting to really work the boy’s full hard bulge.

Walt looked into the panting boy’s eyes and saw the familiar glazed look starting to form.

“Tell me you like my feeling you up, Matt. Tell me how you want to feel my lips on your nipples and body. TELL ME!”

“Please sir, noooo…uuunngh….ooooh,…aaaargh….."

"Tell me now, boy, or you'll never see good marks!"

Matt moaned his sexual yearnings and resigned himself to the inevitable.

"Yes sir, I like it. Please sir, lick my nipples Sir, aaargh, unnngh...”

“Thank you Matt, I will”. The man got up and leaning forward, took the other nipple between his teeth and gently worried it, tugging and nipping it whilst continuing to pinch and pluck the other. He redoubled his grip on the boy’s bulge, pummelling it and stroking it. He felt the 16 year old lad shudder and shake.

“Aaaaarggghhhh, unnnnnnggghh.....noooooooo!”

The teenager’s body went taught with pleasure and then his groin thrust back and forwards in spasmodic motions as the lad climaxed.

Walt continued to suck, nip and bite the lad’s nipples; continued to massage and grope the fat thrusting jerking bulge.

“Aaaaargh, no more, uuunggh, no, please s,sir….arrrgh…”

Walt started to feel a damp area around the boy’s groin where his cum had started to soak through.

The man lifted his wet palm to the boy’s face. “Lick your cock juice, boy.”

Matt licked obediently, keeping his eyes on the man.

The boy’s panting started to calm down as the man sat back in his chair.

He reached forward and started to unbutton the lad’s jeans. As each button was slowly unsnapped, a full white bulging jock pouch was revealed. The last couple of buttons were slippery with oozing boy sperm.

Walt pulled back the flies and then told the boy to stand up away from the desk so he could ease the jeans down past the kid’s firm thighs.

What faced the man made his own cock start to leak like crazy. A beautiful, oiled boy stood before him, vulnerable with his heavy cock and balls inches away from him and only protected by a sodden flimsy rubber and cotton mesh. The man moved closer and inhaled the pungent and yet sweet oyster smell of fresh cum and young male equipment. He reached out and grasped the full wet jock pouch and started massaging it anew. The mesh of the pouch material rubbed agonizingly against the super-sensitive, bulging head of the boy’s cock.

“Aaaargh, noooooo, unnnngggh, please…aaaargh” moaned the squirming lad, his oiled torso and abs moving deliciously.

“Stay where you are Matt,” commanded the man as he continued to work the boy’s cock and balls through the pouch.

After about 5 minutes of manipulation, the man could feel the bulge becoming bigger and harder again. “Oh, the wonders of youth,” thought Walt has he reached under and between teenager’s legs.

The teenager’s middle finger sought and, between the elastic straps of the jock, found the sweaty quivering entrance to the boy’s interior. He slowly rubbed the hole, teasing it’s folds causing the boy to shudder and shiver in sensual pleasure. “oooooooh, sir, nooooooooo, unnngh”. The man continued to work the full firm pouch.

“Now, let’s see what you’ve got in there”, said the man, as he started to slowly pull down the waist band of the jock.

“Oh my god”, moaned the man as the lad’s thick throbbing cock was revealed. It was slippery and coated with cum. The man almost reverently held the thick tool with both his hands, sliding them slowly up and down the pulsating rod while the boy moaned his pleasure. Nearly seven, thick, throbbing inches of young, slimy turgid flesh slowly passed through the old man’s clutching hands. Walt leaned forward slightly and swiped his tongue across the fat red bulbous cockhead, causing the boy to quiver with lust.


The clear liquor oozing from the large, bubbling piss slit was like ambrosia to the man. Walt licked the inside of the pouch clean, smacking his lips as he savoured the funky, sweet fuck sauce.

The man held the thick, stiff meat at its base with one hand whilst flat tonguing the fat stalk and meaty head like a lollipop, moaning his lustful desires as he lapped at the pre-cum slime. He fondled the lad’s full ball sac with his other hand, rolling the balls against each other, gently tugging.

Matt was panting heavily again and his eyes were glazing over once more, he moaned gutturally as he felt the delicious flames of incipient orgasm licking at the insides of his big churning balls. His cock started to swell further in readiness to spurt another volley of his sweet cream when the man suddenly squeezed his balls hard and clamped down on the root of his jerking fuckpole. “Not yet, boy!”

“Aaaaaagh!!!”, screamed the boy as the man aborted the bubbling cum that was about to spurt forth.

With skilful hands, the man worked the boy back toward orgasm only to abort it at the last moment. This was repeated five times, leaving the lad a gurgling, crying lust driven animal. “Aaaargh, unnnngh, please let me cum, Sir, pleeeese, aaargh!” The lad’s thick jerking pole of sizzling fuck meat was drooling with pre-cum fuck slime and man spit.

The man could stand it no longer; he needed what boiled and bubbled in the boy’s churning, roiling balls.

Licking his middle finger, he resumed the massaging of the teen’s boy hole.

“Aaaaarggh, oooooooghh, unnngh,” gurgled the lad as the teenager’s finger worked his anus.

Walt started to vacuum suck the boy in earnest, making the boy arch his back in pleasure.

The lad’s body started to quiver and shake and the man timed it to perfection. At the right moment, he thrust his thick wet finger deeply up into the boy’s anus up to the third knuckle, to rub and molest the teen’s prostate gland.

The boy screamed with lust and pleasure and his eyes rolled up into his head as his body convulsed, pushing his big cock deeply into the man’s mouth. Fountains of creamy boy cum spurted forcefully down the gulping, swallowing man’s throat. The copious amounts squeezed out between the man’s lips and the sliding, pumping teen meat to trickle down the man’s chin and onto the floor.

After the torrent subsided, the man continued to pump his finger slowly in and out of the boy’s hot furnace for another long minute as the impaled teen sweated and writhed and moaned quietly.

The lad slowly dressed as his teacher wordlessly wrote a note for his father. Finished, he showed it to Matt.

“Dear Mr. Sawyer,

A quick note to say, although Matt was not able to make the grade this week, he has worked very hard today. He came to me with a big issue but due to his co-operation and willingness to work with me, we managed to get it licked. I am confident that this time next week, I will be able to report that Matt is able to accommodate anything I give him.”

“Thanks Kid”, said the English Teacher, indicating that the lad could now leave.



Chapter 2



Matt's mind was in a whirl. His mind kept flashing back to how the old teacher had massaged and stroked his most private of areas. How the man’s grasping sliding fingers worked his thick and throbbing teen meat against his will. How he allowed the man to slide a bony finger up his tight hot hole forcing him to shoot his creamy teen boy juice deep into the old teachers sucking drooling mouth. 


He told himself what a terrible sinner he was and should confess before God in order to cleanse his soul.  And yet...something deep in his arsehole itched and quivered as he replayed his molestation in his head.


Every night since, the boy revisited the guilty scene trying to deny what happened and how he felt. Every night the lad had tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. And, every night he gave in and in the early hours of the mornings he reached into his bulging jockstrap pouch and grasped the thick throbbing teen meat and pleasured himself until his writhing sweating loins pumped his thick rich boy sauce into the sodden pouch.


This piled further guilt upon his feverish young mind because he had been brought up to know that feeling himself up was a mortal sin in the eyes of God.




Coach Peterson was in a good mood.  He was having an enjoyable morning taking the weights class. Nothing gave him more pleasure than watching and coaching fifteen and sixteen year old boys on how to improve their young bodies by working them. His motto was, 'Work it good and it will work for you'.  


Watching young teenage boys with their lean and nicely muscled bodies as they sweated and strained against the weights (or against anything else for that matter) intoxicated the Coach as he moved amidst the sweaty atmosphere of young males endeavors.


He always made it a rule that boys should not wear anything but the skimpiest of shorts, barely large enough to hide their regulation jockstrap. No tops were allowed either. Peterson was a firm believer in letting a young male body breathe and move freely.


"Please Coach, Sir, am I using this pec machine correctly?"


Peterson smiled down at one of the boys as he looked up at the Coach with respectful trusting eyes.


He took his time with the boy, teaching him how to sit correctly in the resistance machine, how to keep his lower stomach tight and how to align his upper chest in relation to the moving parts.  By the time he had finished this, the boy had felt the Coaches big hands slide over his butt, kneaded his pelvis and linger over his chest and pecs. But he was the Coach and was a guy so everything was fine. All the boys held a hero worship for the Coach.


Yes, the Coach was in a good mood.  His mind turned to Matt.  Now there was a handsome boy, mused the man. He had been delighted when Matt had taken him up on after class coaching in the gym. Peterson loved the innocent readiness of the boy to follow direction and not a session went by when the Coach wasn't able to feel up the lad on some pretence at guidance and tuition.


In fact, Coach Peterson was enjoying the prospect of taking the swimming class in the next few days which would afford another fine view of healthy teenage boys cavorting in their swimming briefs and more specifically, Matt, in his tight lycra Speedos. He was particularly pleased with the way Matt had readily taken his advice on the choice of Speedos to wear. Very brief and pale, blue in color. Naturally, Peterson had stressed the need for minimising water resistance and maximising body and limb flexibility. The fact that the sheer nylon fabric and its semi-translucence presented a delicious bulging outline of the boy’s hefty cock and ample balls was purely coincidental....


Coach was licking his lips absentmindedly, lost in his reverie until he was hailed by Walt, the English teacher coming toward him, a smile playing on his lips.


"Hi Walt, you look like the cat who licked the cream."


Peterson knew Walt for the boy loving pedophile he was, but then.....in the old parlance, it took one to know one.


"Actually, funny you should say that," winked the English teacher.


As Walt quietly boasted about where he obtained his cream, his smile got broader whilst Peterson’s face got greener.


His day was no longer a good day.




That evening, Jack Sawyer was relaxing in front of the TV. It was nice to switch off after the long day on the building site, sweating and lifting under the hot summer sun.. Physically tired and mentally worried about Matt's progress at school, he tried to relax.  Matt had already retired to bed and Jack reckoned one more beer and he too, would hit the sack.


He broke open a beer and lay on the couch, his mind inevitably migrating back to his son.  Apart from the standard of school work, Jack was mightily proud of his teenage son. His particular pleasure came from the way Matt readily embraced whatever his father suggested.  That was how a son should be, Jack told himself. He remembered the last workout session he shared with Matt. Whilst the bench press reps had been straightforward for the big man, the boy had struggled to maintain his reps. Jack remembered watching his son's straining body, his young defined muscles in his smooth chest and abs rippling and bunching under the strain; how the  sweat glistened and rolled down the lad’s straining shining torso; how his son's trim and finely ripped abdomen disappeared under the thin waistband of the boy’s worn jockstrap and how the boy’s sweat was soaking into the teens bulging jock pouch...  At first, Jack had not been keen on Matt's use of the schools regulation jockstrap during his home workout sessions, much preferring his son to wear the pair of tight lycra shorts which he had bought Matt shortly after the boy’s mother had passed away. But, now, he had grown to like seeing Matt in a jockstrap. He liked the way the pouch lifted and supported and the way the strap framed the boy’s tight globular butt....


Jack gave a guilty start as he caught himself thinking about his son's body. Then he pushed it away. And why shouldn't a Father be able to look at his son’s body? It was right and proper to take pride in how his boy had developed his body.


Jack's big hand was unconsciously rubbing his well packed crotch as his mind lingered on his son.


The big man started to breathe more heavily as he squeezed and worked his crotch through the denim work jeans.  Giving in to his burgeoning lust and sexual need, he opened his flies and hauled out his thick half hard tool. It was indeed a substantial piece of meat. Already dripping and rapidly swelling to fullness, Jack spat on his hand and worked it around and under the huge cockhead.  Touching 9" long and 3" thick, the throbbing, dripping log required both of Jack’s meaty hands.


A sudden thought occurred to Jack. Still working his massive fuck tool, he went into the bathroom where the laundry basket was.  Jack picked up a pair of Matt's dirty socks. He bunched them in his fist and inhaled the sweaty intoxicating aroma that lay therein.  The big man grunted into the socks as he worked his meat.  And then, glancing down, he let out a moan as he noticed one of Matt’s cast off jockstraps.


With greedy lust, he reached for his son’s dirty underwear...




Upstairs, Matt was sweating and turning - sleep was taunting him. Gathering him up in its embrace, only to step way like a teasing lover. The teenager had long kicked off the light cotton bed sheet and now lay on top of the mattress, with only his jock as his usual sleeping attire. As had become a recurring habit, the lad’s guilty mind had revisited the scene with his English Teacher. Only this time, the teacher’s face had been replaced by another. A face familiar and yet not so.  Finally, sleep claimed the lad...




As Jack Sawyer was rubbing his son’s jockstrap around his fat swollen knob-head, Coach Peterson was searching his attic prior to going to bed. He knew he had the article that he bought on his travels in the Middle East many years ago.  It had been sold as an artifact of 'cultural significance' and dated back to when the mighty Pharaohs held dominion over the lands. Peterson knew it for what it was; a truly marvellous antique of torture and pleasure; something truly representative of the depraved and horrific practices that were hidden behind the grandeur and magnificence of those times. It had cost him a great deal of money, but his use of it had brought him pleasure beyond measure, as well as some lads much pain beyond measure...


As he searched through the clutter in the attic, he started to fume over what Walt, had told him.  How could his wonderful Matt give himself to that ugly old man? The very image of Walt's crinkly old lips wrapped around Matt's firm thick teen cock was enough to make Peterson feel physically sick.  But then, he mused, he WAS blackmailing the poor lad. That's something he would never do.  Rather a lad wants to do it or not. No point in forcing the boy, unless of course.....it's for his own good. Sometimes one has to be cruel to be kind...


The man gave a grunt of joy. He lifted the contraption up with both hands, and looked at it. At a quick glance it looked like a metal framework resembling a low seat.  Closer inspection revealed two things. Just below the surface of the 'seat' was a 17", phallic object made of solid metal 3.5" thick. Around its circumference were ridges and indentations. Below the front edge of the seat were two claw-like grips fashioned out of ornately carved metal. The claws and phallic piece were connected by a complex mechanism of moving parts.


Connected into this whole, was a foot pedal and a lever which, when operated in sync or singly caused 3 things to happen:


1) The long thick phallic object would lift up through the seat rotating as it did so. The extent of its extension above the level of the seat was dependent upon the controls.


2) The two claws at the front would move apart, backwards and downwards under the seat. Again, the extent to which the claws dragged back and down were dictated by the controls.


At each side of the seat were catches to hold an unfortunate in place.


The old Egyptian trader who sold the device explained its purpose. Peterson shuddered with a delicious frisson of lust as he remembered how the old trader told him that some depraved pharaohs would take their pleasure by using the contraption to impart unbearable pleasure at the same time as unimaginable pain whilst feeding from the cum being forced out of the tortured balls.  The man imagined the scene in the dark caverns of the Pharaohs’ palaces. In the flickering firelight from the sconces, a young slave boy strapped onto the device.  He could easily have been fourteen or fifteen as at that age, they were deemed adults. He imagined the abject fear in the lad’s eyes and the sweat of terror coating his muscular panting torso as the lever was about to be moved.  The shrieking screams that must have bounced off those underground walls....  Peterson closed off the image and felt his cock swell under his sweats as he contemplated his next, after school, gym session with Matt.  Time to really see if the boy can really make the grade he thought with a lustful, malicious grin.




As Peterson set about oiling the contraption he had just recovered, Jack made his way to Matt's bedroom, his brain hot with lust.  Pausing for a moment in front of the lad’s door he surveyed the boy’s many plaques and signs on the door; 'Keep Out', 'Invasion Free Zone', 'No Entry Without Permission' and 'Don't Touch'. In the grip of lust and need, Jack's lip curled slightly with a savage greed. He turned the door handle and pushed the door open.


Jack Sawyer, Father of Matt Sawyer, stepped over the threshold....




Matt opened his eyes. He saw blackness. The first thing he realised was that his arms were tied together above his head and that his feet were somehow immobilized and slightly spread apart.


He was alone in the darkness.


It was warm and not a breath of air stirred. It was almost fetid. Someone moaned and breathed heavily and Matt knew he wasn't alone in the darkness.


And then, a spotlight directly above him came on. He was lit up and still the boy could see nothing in the darkness beyond the pool of light he inhabited. He was wearing a tight white tank top which stopped 4 inches above his navel. He was hot and sweating. He wore tight white underwear that were so brief and made of material so thin, it barely covered his semi hard cock and full, heavy balls. On his feet were white socks. He felt vulnerable.


He was alone in the light.


He knew he was being watched.  He knew that the darkness contained need and craving. It held lust.  Against his will, that very knowledge triggered that itch deep within his anus. His heavy teen cock pushed ponderously against the white thin material of his skimpy briefs. Another murmur from the darkness and then the sound of a zipper being pulled down.


Something touched his butt with a feathery touch and then was gone. Matt tried to turn around but couldn't. Then, he felt a hand gently caressing the back of his knees. A lover’s touch.


"Don't touch me!" yelled Matt. His voice somehow muffled and absorbed by the stygian darkness. The boy tried to kick the teasing, clinging hand away only to find his feet locked in position leaving him immobilized, waiting for the next odious touch.


Then, out of the darkness, at knee level, an old wart covered hand emerged and, hesitantly, almost nervously reached out and stroked the lad’s left calf muscle. "Uugh!" shuddered the lad as he tried to shrink away from the creepy contact.


Matt was beginning to pant out of fear, his wide eyes darting around, trying to identify the next source of torment.


As this happened, two pairs of hands crept from behind him. The top pair slowly felt up his teen chest and pinched and twisted his nipples through the tank top material.


"Aaargh, Noooo! Unngh," whined the youth as his full nipples and chest were pinched and twisted mercilessly.


The lower pair stroked and felt up the growing length of the boy’s tool trapped behind the bulging briefs.


"Oh, God, please no! No, don't," moaned the boy as the fingers teased and played with his thick, weeping tool, straining against the restricting material. A damp spreading patch was on the front of his briefs.


The hands became insistent and rough, seemingly wanting to hurt and abuse and then, suddenly the top pair grabbed hold of his tank top whilst the lower pair took hold of the waistband of his briefs. Together, the hands pulled away in a shearing motion ripping the tank top from the teen exposing his smooth muscled teen chest and leaving his thick half hard cock and heavy balls swinging.  The light reflected easily off the sweat covered writhing torso of the young muscled teen. Beads of clear cock juice flicked off the lad's bouncing turgid organ.  Matt heard a collective moan and the sound of hands sliding back and forth on cocks.


And then, the assault began. Hands came out of the darkness to stroke his firm bubble buns, to twist and tweak his full nipples, to snake between his legs from behind and pull and squeeze his full ball sack. He felt hands pulling apart his cheeks and then the feeling of a strong thick wet tongue reaming his quivering teen hole.


"Aaaaargh!!! Noooooo! God!! Please- Noooooo!!! Unnnnggghh!"


The boy's tormented screams of pain and forbidden pleasure was sucked away by the dark.  Matt's thick 7" cock was fully engorged with blood; a sweet clear oil oozed continuously from the bubbling piss slit to slowly and continuously fall to the ground.


The boy hated it, and yet wanted it. It was odious and yet rapturous. The hands were all over his body; all ages and colors. The lad writhed and twisted his young lean torso in an attempt to avoid the clinging, grasping reaches of the hands and yet was unable to avoid the torturing ecstasy of those probing fingers.


Suddenly, the hands withdrew and the boy was alone again in the light, his body semi hanging from the strain, his chest heaving and panting with effort and restrained desire.


And then, a big hand emerged from the darkness at groin level, thick fingers ready to grasp and manipulate. Oh, so slowly did those fingers move toward their destination. Matt looked down in dread; his heavy teen cock jerking in dreadful anticipation.


"No, please..," Matt shook his head wordlessly, dreading the big hand and yet strangely craving its attention.


The fingers paused momentarily to collect the slow stream of sweet pre-cum before lightly and almost delicately smearing it over the boy’s throbbing cockhead and slowly spreading it along the length of the boy’s jerking meat.


"Ooooooh! Uurgggh," gurgled the teen, as the indescribably sweet sexual torment of his cock sent triggers to his churning balls to produce their sweet creamy payload.


Although large, the hand was shockingly gentle, the caress firm enough to give gasping pleasure to the boy and yet soft enough to let orgasm take it's time.


"Please....," whimpered the lad- his sexual need for release building to an intolerable level. He tried to push his hips forward in an attempt to find heaven yet the hand always seemed to know and it would not be hurried.


"Ooooooooh! Aaaaagh!!! Mmmmmm!!! God!!!! Please," moaned the kid.


Then, sensing the time had come, the other hand snaked out of the darkness and held the base of the lad’s dripping cock whilst the first hand concentrated on rubbing the head faster and faster -rubbing the sticky pre-fuck fluid into a white glue.


The lad started to moan in a continuously increasing pitch, huge prongs of unbearable pleasure stabbing down through his cock toward his large balls to collide somewhere deep in his anus.


"AAAAAARRRGGH, NOOOOOOOOO," wailed the writhing, sweating teen.


The gates within his balls opened and a flood of thick creamy ambrosia shot out of the lad’s swollen cockhead in thick ropey strands. The lad’s sweating torso jerking back and forth as his big teen balls churned out their creamy load.  Matt's cum coated the hands as they continued to rub and manipulate his cock and balls....




Jack Sawyer emerged from his son's bedroom, his eyes bright with fervor and a new light.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slowly licked his lips. The taste reminded him of the sweet and yet slightly salty porridge his Uncle used to feed him with as a boy....


He made his way to his bedroom, his hand now holding the boy’s jockstrap which somehow found its way off the teen’s body. He lay on his bed and held the pouch against his nose and inhaled deeply. It was still warm from Matt's body and the pouch held the gentle odor of a boy’s piss and natural genital secretions. The big man worked his large fuck log as he licked and sniffed his son’s jock, moaning and grunting with heavenly lust. On impulse, he pulled his son’s jockstrap on. The pouch was unable to completely cover the big man’s cock. The warmth of the pouch and its impossible tightness almost made him cream there and then.  He rubbed and squeezed his cockhead through the pouch material. The thought that his handsome son’s cock and balls had also just been in the pouch tipped him over the edge and with a huge shudder and animal growl he emptied his man balls into the jock.  He waited till his shuddering body recovered and then he removed the jock and silently went back to Matt's room. He eased the dripping sodden underwear back onto his sleeping son....


He had started a journey that he meant to complete.



Chapter 3



Pale, diffuse sunlight born of an unrisen sun, tentatively eased the darkness of the lad's bedroom.


Gradually, detail within the room emerged. Cast off socks here; a worn trainer there. Posters of body builders started to emerge from the walls. A couple of awards for physical excellence stood slightly askew on the dusty window shelf.


It had been a fetid night and the closed windows had done nothing to alleviate the closeness and the sweaty sock smell characteristic of all male teenagers’ rooms.


Lying on the bed, with only his lower legs covered by the single cotton sheet, was a 16 year old boy.


The boy was almost naked and a light sheen of night sweat lay finely over his muscular torso and face.  His full lips moved silently in attempts at communication within his dreamworld; his brow slightly furrowed.  His head jerked occasionally as if in denial.


Matt lay on his back, his legs slightly splayed and twitching as they disappeared under the light sheet. Muscles in his tight lean stomach and legs bunched now and then, evident of a need to move and yet firmly held fast by the hands of Morbius.


The door handle turned slowly and silently; the bedroom door opened. A big man entered. Keeping as quiet as possible, the man closed the door and, for a while, stood by the boy’s bed looking down on the lad; his eyes slowly raking the full length of the young sleeping Adonis.


He reached down tentatively, almost against his will, and touched the boy’s right nipple; gently playing with it until it firmed up.  


Unable to resist, and with increasing confidence, the man reached over to the other nipple and rolled it gently between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing it to a firm erection.


Matt’s handsome boyish face furrowed as though struggling against an unknown assailant. The man smiled to himself. He suspected that the sleeping pill he dropped into his son’s drink the previous night was still working it’s magic; imprisoning him in the land of dreams.


The teenager’s breathing started to get heavier as he continued to slowly manipulate the boy’s full nipples, gently squeezing and rubbing them. The boy’s body gently shuddered under his ministrations and a soft continuous moan issued from the lad's parted lips. The youths legs started to spread involuntarily.




The teenager’s nostrils started to flare as the father continued to play with his son’s full erect nipples, whilst occasionally rubbing the palm of his hand across the boy’s chest, relishing the warm sweaty firm feel of the teen’s pecs.


The man’s eyes roamed over the boy’s toned and slightly rippled six-pack and down to the lad's swaddled crotch, his mouth watering as he drank in the bulging stained jock pouch that was pregnant with promise.


He moved his big calloused hand slowly down the boy’s flank, reveling in the touch of the lad’s firm muscular young flesh. Reaching downward, he gently grasped the full bulge, thrilling to the feel of the swollen length of thick teen meat that lay cocooned behind the damp and slightly sticky material.


"Oh, my lovely, big boy...," whispered the man; his big hand resting on his son’s bulging pouch, gently feeling up the boy’s length and thickness.


Somehow sensing the struggling boy’s victory over the clinging embrace of sleep, the man straightened up and smiled down at his son as the boy's eyes slowly opened; his young eyes blinking away the glaze of dreams. The boy’s big dark eyes focused on the man.


"Oh...uh...hi Dad".


"Hi Matt, just thought I'd see if you're awake. Don't want you to slack on your training just because it’s Sunday morning," quipped the man.  Jack Sawyer was determined that his son follow in his footsteps as an avid weight trainer.


Matt worshipped his father and devoted most of his free time to following his father's lead and his young teen body was a fine testament to the years of weight lifting and swimming that he threw himself into. He wanted nothing more than for his father to praise him and be proud of him.


Jack Sawyer was not one to overly spoil his son with praise but every now and then, he felt the time was right. On this occasion, the time was right for two reasons. Firstly, he had just received and read a letter from Matt's English teacher, Mr. Johnson.


Secondly, it suited his purposes.  He was determined to finish the journey he had started...


"You're doing well son, you've got some good tone there.", said Jack as he feigned casualness whilst raking his hungry eyes over the virtually naked boy.


Matt could hardly believe what he father said.


"Wow, do you really think so Dad?" his bright young eyes shining up at the big man.


"Sure, buddy! You might even give me a run for my money in time."


The man bent down and placed his right hand onto Matt's left pec muscle and slowly moved it across the lad’s chest and then down across the boy’s lean tight stomach, fingering the ripples of the abdomen.


“Oh, yes, boy…,” breathed Jack.


Matt was over the moon at this unadulterated praise from his father. He loved the feel of his father’s firm hand on his skin. It was comforting and guiding and somehow he felt thrilled by it.


“Gee, thanks Dad. I’m really pleased you think I’m doing OK”.


Jack moved smoothly to implement his plan.


"In fact, I think that from now on, while you're in the house, you should only wear your jock. It shows off your trained body well and it's a constant reminder and spur for you to work your body."


Matt's smile faltered. "But....but...what if someone comes?"


"Oh, I see, well of course if any women came then you can put something on. We don't want to offend the ladies do we?"


Matt felt churlish to mention that he didn't really want men to see him in only a jock either.


"But...er..what if my friends call round?"


"So, what's the problem? They've seen you in the locker room before haven't they?"


"Sure but..,"


"That's settled then. Unless women come round you stay as you are. Clear boy?"


Matt lowered his eyes. He knew his father had decided.


"Yes, Sir."


"Good man; and now on to a different matter entirely."


Matt's heart started to hammer as he recognised his English teacher's spidery hand writing on the envelope that his father pulled out.


"Your teacher has explained how hard you've tried in his classes. Even though you didn't make the grade, he seems pleased with your attitude."


Matt held his breath whilst Jack's gaze held his son's.


The big man smiled briefly. "So long as you have the right attitude boy, that's the main thing. You do everything your teachers tell you to do, then I'm happy. …clear?”


Matt nearly burst into tears, his chest swelling with gratitude and relief that his father had not known the terrible sin he had committed in letting his teacher molest his body in such an intimate way. 


And yet guilt racked him that he let his father believe a lie and desperately tried to lock away the dreadful memory of how his innocence was abused.  He was determined to absolve himself in the face of God and restore his standing as his Mother would have wanted him to.  And yet, in spite of how much he hated the depraved teacher who had played with his young body, he still felt, somewhere deep in his anus, the itch that refused to go away...




Father Bryce had tended his flock in his area for the past 10 years. At 62 years of age, he was relaxing into a calming period of his life. The quiet town of Briers Cross was perfect for him. Within traveling distance to the big city, the sleepy town afforded familiarity and acceptance by a largely mature population and forgetfulness of his more exotic past. And yet, the city lay just within reach. Whilst only 30 miles away, it was separated by a light year of lifestyle difference and the two worlds had never collided. The city provided anonymity for what the ageing priest needed.


It was Sunday, late morning. A hot sun blasted down on the white wooden church. As Father Bryce was saying his farewells to the last of his devoted parishioners at the church door, he saw the figure of a young man standing hesitantly; shifting from one foot to the next.


Father Bryce found it difficult not to stare at the teenager as Mrs. Angel, a 72 year old lady, babbled on about how he must taste her blueberry pie. Father Bryce was becoming interested in tasting only one thing and blueberry pie wasn't it.


Father Bryce's keen sight took in the tight t-shirt that covered the broad young shoulders and the skin tight jeans that accentuated the boy’s firm thighs and full crotch.. He very much noticed how the t-shirt finished shy of the lad's navel by 3 inches showing a tight flat stomach. The boy moved awkwardly forward as Mrs. Angel finally shuffled away.


"Er.....hi Father...er…um...are you busy?"


Bryce finally saw the boy in all his male glory; a fine, good looking face with a good head of dark, floppy hair that occasionally fell over dark flashing eyes. The priest struggled mightily against his addiction and forced himself to maintain eye contact with the boy as he approached.


"Yes my son?"


"Er....Father...er....I have to confess."


To the man’s astonishment (and delight), Matt Sawyer burst into tears and fell into the priests comforting arms.




On Sunday morning Jack Sawyer enjoyed taking it easy.  His demanding job on construction sites meant he had little time to indulge in such luxuries.  While Matt was out doing whatever he was doing, he decided to take the weight off his feet and relax.


As he lay on the sofa drinking a glass of orange juice, he replayed the events of the previous night. He felt a tightness develop in his shorts as he recalled how much he enjoyed what his sleeping son possessed between those firm young thighs.


Jack Sawyer felt himself up as his lust was renewed. He pushed down his shorts and wrapped his big hand around his thick throbbing 9” of mature, jerking meat. He imagined how it must have looked; a man doing unspeakable things to his unknowing son.  And yet, he knew he had an inalienable right to enjoy his son as he saw fit. His son was flesh of his flesh and that gave him the right by God.... 


As his perverted mind wandered, he imagined watching another man forcing his attentions on his helpless son. The excitement grew as his lust fed on his imagination as he added more men to the scenario. The vision of 4 burly men each holding an arm or leg of the struggling boy with a fifth slowly molesting the teen and taking his perverted pleasure caused Jack’s huge, thick meat to spit out a drooling stream of milky pre-cum. 


On an impulse, Jack grabbed the empty glass next to him as he stroked and squeezed and milked his enormous fuck pole of the continuous pre-cum, catching the sticky fluid in the glass. 


His fevered imagination pictured Matt squirming helplessly as big men ripped his school clothes from his young teen body. Bit by bit, the boy’s lean muscled body would be exposed, jerking and writhing in vain to escape the powerful, clutching holding hands.  He could almost hear the boy moaning and screaming as his young body is squeezed and rubbed and pinched by the lust crazed men. Jack then imagined the fifth man opening a bag full of rope and handcuffs and other tools….  The glass steadily filled.


Almost an hour later, the big man, red faced and with glazed eyes came, gasping and grunting, spewing thick jets of cum into the small glass filling it almost the top.




As Jack moaned in his ecstasy, Coach Peterson was busy running the Sunday extra curricular sports session at school.  It was a generous offer of the school to allow students who wanted to practice more to use the schools facilities.  Peterson was more than happy to help and was more than happy to chaperon the eager and active bunch of lad’s pursue their sporting interests. 


Unfortunately, today he was unable to concentrate. His mind was consumed with excitement and anticipation of his forthcoming after school gym session with Matt on Monday.  Over the previous two days, he had spent time cleaning and oiling every lever, cog and part of the ancient chair like instrument that he had bought from the old Egyptian whilst abroad.


Every time he caressed the thick phallus shaped piece of solid metal, he imagined it pumping in and out of Matt's tight juicy virginal hole as the young lad's sweat-covered muscular torso would squirm and writhe in pain and denied pleasure. 


Peterson couldn't help but leak in his shorts as he dwelt on the device and its ancient origins and depraved purpose. He remembered with dirty, debased lust how boys and youths experienced the heights of lust crazed pleasure and also moments of disemboweling agony whilst strapped on to the infernal device. The man almost moaned aloud as he imagined the abundance of young male juices that must have ebbed and flowed over the chair's pitted metal surfaces through the eons.


His fevered mind turned the next training session he would have with Matt. He couldn't help but imagine Matt's head thrown back in the throes of unknowable sensations as the strapping teen rides the machine.  The lad’s sweating squirming torso writhing and jerking helplessly trying to avoid the huge impaling device repeatedly plunging into the depths of the boy’s fiery bowels…


He realised that the next training session would need to be in his home, outside the city and in the garage, where nobody would hear any screaming…




Peterson came back to the present. 14 year old Timmy was looking at him expectantly. A cute, blond haired lad, Timmy was not a natural gymnast though he was a fine swimmer. Coach always took pleasure in looking over Timmy's young lean body during swimming classes; admiring his tight young butt clothed in thin tight Speedos and the full, healthy bulge that hinted at a glorious manhood.


He remembered that the lad was having difficulty climbing the ropes. "You've nearly got it Timmy", encouraged Peterson as he took the end of the thick rope that hung from the gym ceiling. He passed it between the boy’s legs and gently moved the rope back and forth, causing it to rub Timmy’s crotch continuously.


"You see, Timmy, the trick is to let the rope passes freely between your legs. Don't clamp up on it 'cos you won't get anywhere."


As he explained, the rope continued to move between the lad’s legs. The tight white gym shorts that the lad wore over his regulation jockstrap afforded scant protection from the rough hemp that continued to buffet and rub the boy’s private parts.


"Unnh...er..aah..y..yessir. I understand...ah..thanks."


Peterson looked down at the boy’s bare chest and licked his lips as he noticed the boy's nipples were starting to stiffen as he continued to work the rope back and forth.


The bulge between the lad’s legs became rather more noticeable and Timmy was starting to breathe more heavily, his skin coloring.


“Now are you sure you understand Timmy? You must make sure as well to keep the rope tight up between your legs to ensure you get a good firm grip with your legs”.


As he said this, Peterson pulled the thick rope more firmly up between the boy’s legs while continuing to move the rope back and forth.




Timmy's bulge became very prominent and the boy’s chest started to heave as he started to pant and moan. 


Peterson watched with amusement as the young lad’s eyes start to glaze over and started to wonder if he could force the lad to unload his young male cream in his shorts if he kept it up long enough when he was distracted by someone calling him.


"I think we need to work on the technique some more, Timmy- come to my office after this session.


"Y..yessir," gasped the boy, glad of the respite.




The priest peered at the crestfallen lad through the grill of the confessional.


"Now my son, tell me what your sin is," asked the priest as he peered through the lattice at the handsome teen.


The lad's miserable face turned toward the grill, his eyes about to water up again as he recalled the traumatic event when an old man played with the most intimate parts of his body; forcing his young torso to shiver with pleasure and his thick teen cock to dance and throb with forbidden joy. He recalled with shuddering dread how the old man had abused his body and forced it to give up it's creamy treasure. He hated himself and was wracked with guilt that he actually enjoyed the sensations as his body was molested by the man.


He would give anything to obtain forgiveness from the priest and to wash away his terrible crime.


"Well....father...I...er....that is...a man sort of touched me and now I won't go to heaven..."


The lad hung his head down in shame and fear, that the priest would lash out and condemn him.


Father Bryce felt his dick jerk and a flame of lust lick between his balls and anus as he heard the boy confess. He couldn't help but rub himself beneath his cassock as he commenced questioning the lad.


"Did you enjoy it when this wicked evil man touched you my son?"


"No Father! I didn't want it. I hated it! At first..."


"I see, but you started to like it later?  You started to enjoy the feel of that pervert’s hands on your private parts did you?"


Matt wept quietly, knowing his depraved feelings were laid bare.


"Yes Father," he whispered unable to hold his head up.


Father Bryce felt his mouth water. He was already formulating ways to lay his hands all over the lad's naked muscular body.


“So he played with your young stalk did he?  Did he rub it? Did he fondle your balls my son? And what about your anus, my son?  Did he put a finger up it?  Did the devil,s disguise violate your young male body?”


The Priest started to wank himself slowly, trying to imagine the scene; his mouth watering with anticipation of what the boy would say next.


Tears trickled down the lad’s face as he nodded silently, his shame complete and utter.


Bryce looked on with triumph- he knew the boy’s body was as good as his.


"Don't punish yourself my son. You were made to enjoy it against your will by the devil working his evil way through the hands of that man. It's not your fault."


Matt lifted his eyes to the grill. Hope lay like a stranded orphan in his eyes. 

"Really, Father?"


"That is right my boy. But it is now important- so important that you come to my office and show me very carefully where the devil made its mark on you. Only then can I know how to cleanse and absolve you of your taint."


As the man guided the teen in front of him toward his office, the old man looked at the firm teen butt in the tight jeans and licked his lips…




As Jack lay on his sofa, panting quietly and recovering from the massive orgasm, the telephone rang. Answering it with a husky voice that was only just starting to return to normal, he found himself talking to Coach Peterson.


He knew Peterson from previous teacher-parent visits and liked him immediately. On two occasions they had met accidentally in town and ended up drinking and putting the world to rights. He knew Peterson was well impressed with Matt’s performance in all sports and particularly in the lad’s performance in the gym. 


“So Jack, I was ringing to let Matt know that on Monday evening, I need to be at home so if he’s willing to come out here, I’d be happy to give him an extra workout session. I’ve got a full gym in my garage here….”


“Sure Tom, I’ll let Matt know……..   By the way, thanks for taking the time out to help him. There’s not many teachers would take the time and trouble with their students.”


“Not a problem jack. As you know, I’m very impressed with Matt. He has a great body and I think the boy primarily has you to thank for that, doesn’t he?”


“Well, I do try to encourage him as I was encouraged by my father….”


“Yes, I think a boy’s body is such a precious thing isn’t it?  There’s something special about boys; their bodies are so responsive to good hard training and physical stresses and it’s great to see those bodies develop….it’s such a pleasure to see…”


As both the men spoke, each of them started to work their full packages as an unspoken understanding developed.


“I was saying to Matt today how he must take pride in his body and have told him that, when at home, he must now only wear his jock…”


Jack smiled as he heard a slight moan from Tom.


“Oh that’s excellent Jack, I bet he’s such a sight walking around you all day showing his assets. That lad of yours has great bulges in all the right places…”


“Yes, he’s a fine boy, Tom.  Of course, I’d always welcome any advice from an expert as to what else would be needed to improve the situation…”


“Well, Jack, I think it’s so important to keep a lad’s muscles constantly stressed and challenged. That’s they way they’ll develop best. I once tutored a lad and found that a rope, hanging from a hook in the ceiling and tied, er, I mean held by the boy’s hands, will enable him to improve the vertical stresses on the muscles in his arms and pecs. Also, ropes attached to each leg with suitable, er, weights, would enable him to develop lateral muscular development…”


It was Tom’s turn to smile as he heard Jack almost catch his breath.


“Tom, you must come round tonight. We clearly are thinking along similar lines. I might even ask a couple of friends I work with on the building site.  They’re always keen to develop their bodies and I’m sure they’ll get inspiration from you.”


“And I’m sure they’ll also get it from Matt and who knows, your boy might get it from them…”


“Oh, yes,” breathed Jack.  “I’m sure he will….”


Both men were breathing heavily and pawing their groins.


“I’ll see you this evening then?  I’m sure Matt would love to see you…”


“Sure thing, Jack. And I would certainly love to see Matt too….”


As Jack hung up, he realised that his cock had started to become half hard again after the conversation.  He got up and searched for a hook, hammer and nails…


As Peterson hung up the phone, there was a knock on his office door and blond haired Timmy looked nervously in.


Peterson smiled broadly.


“Come, come Timmy.  You’ve just come at the right time.   I’m well and truly ready for you…”




As Coach Peterson looked over Timmy’s lithe yet defined young body, Matt stood before the priest nervously as the man slowly appraised the lad.


The priest strove to control his quickening heart and the stirring under his flowing cassock as he tried to casually look at the striking male teen in front of him. He took in the broad shoulders and the well developed chest; the muscular arms and trim waist. The boy’s dark eyes anxiously looked on desperately seeking salvation from God's messenger. God's messenger was busy imagining what lay behind the firm full bulge between the boy’s firm sturdy thighs.


"Now my son, you must show me where the devil made its mark on your young body".


Matt slowly pulled off this t-shirt whilst the priest’s eyes were glued to the tight smooth stomach of the teen. His avid eyes took in the emerging ripples of the lad's 6 pack abs. He silently moaned to himself as the lad raised his arms above his head and slowly lifted the top over his head displaying a smooth muscled torso with firmly delineated pecs; each crowned with a full firm nipple.


"Oh. my boy, what a fine young body you have." crooned Bryce, as he felt his member starting to swell. "You must work out a lot to get such tone."


In spite of his general misery, Matt was pleased that his hard work was paying off.


"Thanks, Sir, my Dad also wants me to keep my body looking good.  He makes sure I work out every day."


"Does he really?  Bet your Dad wants to show you off doesn't he?"


The boy looked at the priest with wonder.


"Yeah-that's right.  He says I can’t wear anything at home except my jockstrap as a reminder of my progress."


Father Bryce felt his swollen cock burp pre-cum at the very thought. He made a mental note to pay a pastoral visit to Matt's home shortly...


“And now my son, you said that evil man touched your private parts? – I must inspect you there to assess the stain that the devil has made”


The priest reached for Matt's belt buckle.


Matt stepped back involuntarily, blushing.


“My boy, you must not be shy. You want to be cleansed of the devil mark don’t you? You want to be free to be innocent again with young girls who must surely want to be with you?”


Matt’s eyes watered up with shame and longing.


“Oh yes please Sir, I want to be normal again.”


“Then have courage my son and hold still.”


Matt nodded his head silently and waited.


The old man slowly unbuckled the boy’s belt with slightly trembling hands, his eyes drinking in the sight of the smooth muscular torso and the full and prominent bulge that promised much. His hands fumbled but eventually unsnapped each of the metal fly buttons.


Eventually, the old man was rewarded with a truly heavenly sight.  Matt stood before him, shy and uncertain. He was naked apart from his jockstrap, his young athletic body at the peak of fitness and flexibility. The smoothness of his skin and the fine male musculature of his frame took the priests breath away.


The old man felt almost faint as he drank in the view.  Inexorably, his eyes were drawn to the lad’s full bulging pouch and almost moaned aloud as he noticed the stains on the rubber and cotton mesh fabric.


He swallowed noisily and reached forward with liver spotted hands…


About 40 minutes later, the verger passed by the door of the Priests study.  He heard strange noises from the study. The sounds of a young lad moaning and groaning interspersed with the grunts of the Priest rang very familiar. He chuckled to himself. This happened every time the Priest took an active interest in tutoring some of his choir boy’s.


Inside, the priest leaned over the boy, fiercely intent on doing God’s will.


"Aaargh...unnngh...," moaned Matt as he was bent over the Priests desk, his jockstrap just above his knees.


"That's right my boy, let your body feel God's touch," husked the priest as he worked the thick Coronation candle slowly in and out of the teenage boy’s anus, twisting it as he did so.


The candle surface was slimy with the lad's ass juices as it moved in and out of the boy’s bowels, rubbing and squeezing Matt's prostate.


"Ooooh...urgh," gurgled the built teen as the old priest, with saliva leaking from the corner of his mouth, impaled the sweating lad over and over again watching with fascination as the boy’s tight anus clutched the candle lovingly.


Matt groaned as the bladder squeezing bursts of pleasure blossomed out from deep within his innards.  The candle end kept squashing and massaging his fuck nut, causing his ample equipment to fatten and lengthen, and his full heavy balls to roil and churn with creamy fuck sauce.


The priest feasted his eyes on the boy’s flapping swollen cock, marvelling at its girth and length on a 16 year old.


"That's right my son. Enjoy God's blessing. Rejoice in HIS contact as he cleanses away the stain of the Devil's touch," intoned the man, his own cock throbbing and leaking like fuck under his cassock.


"Aaaaah....oohhh,  F...Father.....oooooh, it feels so good....is that bad?"


"Not at all my son, because it is Gods touch and it is through me that God will now banish the contact that the Devil made through your ungodly teacher.  Enjoy the wonder that is God’s blessing on your beautiful body."


So saying, the priest reached between the boy’s legs and under Matt's body and grasped the lad’s heavy weeping cock and slowly eased the foreskin back and forward in ever expanding strokes; milking the teen boy’s heavy endowment like a cow's udder.


"Ooooooooh.....aaaaaaah...mmmmmm...," moaned the boy as the man’s hand slowly jacked his throbbing leaking meat.


Matt’s panting, jerking body, slick with sweat, shuddered on the verge of orgasm as the man clutched and manipulated the boy’s full roiling balls.




With remarkable knowledge in his hands, the old priest played Matt’s teen body like a fine instrument, causing it to teeter crazily on the edge of ultimate pleasure. 


“Please, Sir….let me come….uuunnnghhh,” begged the lust crazed boy.


“God will not be hurried”, intoned the priest as he continued to work the thick candle deeper into the lad’s hot bowels.


The drooling honey from the boy’s thick stiff cock served as an excellent lubricant allowing the priests grasping hand to slide slickly back and forwards along the throbbing, convulsing length of the teenager’s meat.


“Aaaaah…..please…noooo…arrgh….uunnnghhh,” moaned Matt, as the overwhelming waves of pleasure burst from his cock and anus.


The old perverted priest set to with an abandon and worked the candle with renewed vigour, causing the boy to moan loudly with pain and pleasure.


Years of experience with young choir boys taught the old man how to keep a lad on the edge for hours though his lust for the lad would brook no patience.


With a hard final push, he shoved the candle as far as it would go into the lad and, leaving the candle in place, he grabbed the young teens balls and squeezed and manipulated them roughly with one hand whilst continuing to jack the lad off.


Matt moaned loudly as the candle punished his fuck nut and his balls were squeezed and pulled.  He became delirious with the painful pleasure.


“Aaaaaarrggghhh….please…..no…more……uuurrrghhh!, gurgled the lad, his sexual organs punished beyond endurance.


The priest grunted in his ear, “Come on lad, spurt your thick creamy cock juice in thanksgiving to the Lord.  Let your big fat heavy balls release their thick heavenly boy sauce as payment for God’s blessing.” 




Matt could hold out no longer.  His body jerked and convulsed as 7 hot jets of teen cum spurted from this swollen throbbing piss slit to hit against the priests desk and drench the man’s jacking hand.


“Oh yes, my boy, shoot that teen load- that’s right…pay your dues to God,” moaned the man.


The priest whipped the candle out of Matt’s anus and covered it with the boy’s cum and then rammed it back in one smooth forceful motion.


The boy screamed as the priest forced the thick candle up into this bowels once more and renewed the onslaught of his prostate gland.


Bryce continued to jack the kid off whilst plunging candle in and out with meaning.


“Uuuuugggh..god….please…no more….aaarggghhhh,” moaned Matt, as the torrent of cum started to subside.


“It’s not finished yet my boy”, said Bryce.  I must make sure every crevice of your body has been scourged of the taint.” As an expert in playing with young male bodies, he knew that they had an amazing capacity to keep cumming and Bryce was an expert in torturing a young lad to dry cum over and over again….


While Matt’s jerking body was being absolved by the priest, the choking gurgling sounds of a young lad emanated from Coach Peterson’s office in the otherwise deserted school corridor….



Chapter 4


Young blond haired Timmy nervously knocked on the Coach Peterson's study door. He had been asked to report later in the day by Peterson.


At 14 years of age, Timmy was a cute lad and there were clear indications of the fine young man he would grow to be.  Whilst his body was not overtly built for muscle, it did have litheness with the promise of lean muscle lying just under the surface. As an avid swimmer, his smooth body flew through the water and his abs, arms and chest showed much promise.


His young heart was pounding with anticipation because, like all the boys in the class, he very much worshipped the Coach and was keen to make a good impression and show him how serious he was to learn the techniques that the Coach had been trying to show him earlier on.


He wore only his brief gym shorts over his regulation jockstrap. He was bare-chested, as the Coach always demanded of his lad’s and told them that it was so important for the skin to breath. He also told them that it was important to ensure that there was sufficient room for the legs to move which was why the Coach also insisted on very short shorts...


"Come in Timmy- I'm well and truly ready for you now," beamed the Coach.


"You know, Timmy, I'm very pleased with your progress. You've listened to what I've taught you and I can see you've worked hard to do as I say and you're body is much improved."


Young Timmy glowed and his eyes widened at this rare unstinting praise.  He wasn't used to praise such as this.


"Gee, thanks Coach! I'm so glad you think I got better".


"You sure have buddy and, although I know you had a bit of difficulty with the rope climbing technique earlier on, I can see your body is responding well to the lessons I've taught you."


So saying, Peterson allowed himself to rake his eyes over Timmy's lean and nicely shaped torso.  Whilst not quite a match for that 16 year old adonis, Matt Sawyer, it was certainly enough to be getting along with....


Reaching out, Peterson moved his right hand slowly over the boy’s chest, rubbing his thumbs across the kid’s full nipples.


"You know Timmy, you're body is really responding well to the weights," said Peterson as he continued to rub the boy’s chest and then down across his young tight stomach.


"Wow, d'you think so coach?" Timmy was in awe of Coach Peterson, as were all the boy’s and his chest expanded with pride at the Coach's encouragement.


"Sure thing buddy!"


Peterson continued to move his big palm slowly up and down the boy’s torso whilst stroking the boy’s back with his left hand. Timmy sighed imperceptibly as the teenager’s palm repeatedly passed over the lad’s full nipples. The Coach's left hand moved slowly up and down the lad’s back slowly edging downward until it started to gently slide up and down over Timmy's tight bum.


Coach Peterson noticed the tell tale signs of the boy’s erecting nipples as he continued to stroke and gently molest the boy’s full nubs.


The lad shivered slightly and a quiet moan issued from his full boyish lips.


"Spread your legs slightly son, that's the correct way to stand; you mustn't be too tight down between your legs when climbing ropes.


Timmy obeyed; keen to master the rope climbing technique that had eluded him for weeks.


Peterson slid his right hand across the boy’s firm abs and then down between Timmy's legs then back up again taking care to make sure his fingers explored and felt the healthy bulge between the kid's legs.


"Oh, yes, Timmy, you're definitely in good shape," muttered Peterson as his strong probing fingers felt up the lie of the kids equipment.


The lad felt a bit funny as a warm sensation of pleasure emanated from between his legs and he started to spread his legs voluntarily.


"That's right Timmy, spread your legs a bit.... Yes, Timmy, that's good. Oh yes.......so very good....," breathed the man as he repeatedly rubbed up and down the front of the boy’s tight gym shorts.


Timmy tried not to moan aloud as the Coach's large warm hand sent increasingly delicious ripples of pleasure from his groin. The boy gulped with dread as he realised his cock was starting to get harder with the pleasure he was feeling and he was scared that the Coach might think he was weird or something. After all, it was only a lesson in rope climbing techniques.  Thankfully Coach didn't appear to notice as his hand continued to slide back and forth over the increasingly obvious bulge.


"You see Timmy, you must remember that when climbing a rope, the rope will constantly be rubbing you back and forth between your legs so you have to get used to it.  Now, wait here, I'll just get some rope and we can then continue where we left off."


Peterson returned with a length of rope and passed it between the boy’s legs and started moving the rope backwards and forwards....


Ten minutes later, the sounds of a choking moaning lad spilled out from the Coach's office into the deserted school corridor.


Inside the office, the 14 year old boy was standing with his hands on his head whilst the Coach was sliding the thick hemp rope high up between the kid’s legs with meaning.


The lad was flushed and sweating and choking with nervous gulps of air as he tried to ignore the mounting sexual pleasure that was simmering to a boil between his legs. His wide, blue eyes were glazed and nervous as they stared ahead trying desperately to concentrate on some unseen image to keep his cock down and not upset the Coach. He greatly feared being punished for doing something that the Coach might not like.


"Unnngh...please, Coach...no more......aaargh...unnnnggh..."


The lad stood, his legs spread whilst the big man repeatedly worked the thick rope back and forth between the boy’s legs.


The boy’s chest was heaving and flushed; his nipples erect and full.  His blue eyes were glazed as they silently begged the man to stop. 


The rope continued to pass backwards and forwards, rubbing and buffeting the very obvious bulge at the front of the boy’s white tight shorts.


Timmy was panting and moaning openly and perspiration was starting to bead the boy’s forehead as he tried desperately not to lose control.


Peterson knew the time was close.


"Now son, you take the ends of the rope yourself and keep working it between your legs."


"But pleass...s..sir...ungh...I think..unngh...I'm gonna have an accident soon...aaargh...ungggh.."


"Do it son- do what I tell you! Work that rope now and faster. Do it!"


The authority in the Coach was not lost on the young lad.


"S...sorry, Sir,...ungh..yessir...aargh...," moaned the flushed lad as he struggled to work the rope even faster between his legs.


Coach Peterson sat down in his chair and enjoyed the spectacle of the cute sweating young lad pleasuring himself against his will.


The lad couldn't help throwing his head back and closing his eyes as waves of delicious pleasure radiated out from between his legs as he abused himself.


Peterson reached down and fondled his crotch under his desk as he watched the gasping, flushed and sweating lad masturbating himself on the thick rubbing rope....


The man moaned slightly as he noticed a wet patch start to soil the front of the kids bulging shorts.


"Faster boy, much faster."


The kid was drenched in sweat as he struggled to comply




Timmy shuddered and lost control.


The boy’s legs started to buckle and his hips started to thrust spasmodically as his young fit body started to orgasm.


"Keep working the rope boy!"


"Unnnnnnnnghhhh....aaaarghhhh...uuuuurrrghhhh", gurgled the youngster.


Desperately, the 14 year old fought to keep his balance and continue to work the thick rope between his legs as his convulsing sweating torso thrashed around.


Peterson smiled and licked his lips as the front of Timmy's shorts suddenly became translucent with the release of boy juices.


The moaning jerking lad continued to work the rope back and forth.


Seconds later, creamy cum started to stream down the kid’s staggering legs.


Under the desk, Peterson was working a huge throbbing piece of man meat that was weeping with delight as he watched the jerking moaning lad creaming himself.




Whilst the 14 year old boy entertained Coach Peterson in his office, Jack Sawyer stood back and admired his handiwork. The big hook in the bathroom ceiling was firmly embedded in the joist above and would easily carry the weight of a man, never mind that of a young 16 year old lad....


Jack stepped back and imagined his 16 year old son hanging from the ceiling as big men groped and molested his young muscular body. He could almost hear the screaming and moaning from the boy as the men ripped the school clothes from the kid's body; the sound of ripping fabric, ugly in the close quarters of the bathroom. He imagined the lust filled men pawing their large, calloused hands over the lad’s rippled abs as the kid twists and turns on the hook, desperately trying to avoid the rubbing molesting hands. Jack started to work his burgeoning bulge as he indulged himself in his unnatural perverted desires. Then he imagined another man rubbing and squeezing the boy’s full crotch, pummeling the kid’s growing length and then starting to unfasten the lad's fly buttons.....


Although the man felt partly guilty of such thoughts, he ignored feelings of any guilt, convinced that, as the boy’s father, he had the perfect right to think whatever he wanted of his son’s body and indeed had the right to DO whatever he wanted to his lad’s body. His son was of his flesh by God and that gave him the right.


And yet, the man was immensely proud of his son. He knew that there weren't many 16 year olds that possessed the looks or levels of fitness that Matt had. He knew he was right to push his son hard with weight training and physical exertion. It helped, of course, that the boy was equally dedicated to his father and worshiped the ground his dad walked on. The lad followed every suggestion and instruction his Father gave and Jack knew Matt believed and trusted him implicitly and the big man was happy to keep it that way.


He greatly looked forward to seeing Matt when he returned home from whatever he was doing since this Sunday was the first day of the new rule; that the boy could only wear his jockstrap and nothing else whilst at home. Jack’s large meat started to leak at the very thought.


The boy’s natural inherited good looks from his mother coupled with the gorgeously trained body made for the perfect Adonis package.  The boy’s dark flashing eyes and broad shoulders immediately attracted the eye as did his well defined pecs, full nipples and clearly emerging 6 pack abs.  The boy’s full lips and bright smile which showed strong white teeth made for a young male mouth just perfect for all sorts of things.... 


As Coach Peterson had said to Jack earlier, the boy had great bulges in all the right places and the one that was between his son’s legs lay at the heart of Jack Sawyers growing perverted lust.  


Whilst, of course, he was unable to check his son out during the day, (apart from the well timed peek whilst watching his son work out), he had found that a sleeping tablet or two in the kids drink at night afforded him the chance to check the kid up close up and personal when the teen was asleep.  As the boy habitually slept with only his jockstrap on, it made the whole task much easier…


Jack gave in and hauled out his big length of meat which, once erect, touched on 9 inches long and 3 inches thick.  He went in search of the glass of cum which he had earlier been filling. He would soon have more to fill the glass....




The Watcher followed the slave boy as he ran through the roughly hewn tunnels underneath the grounds of the Pharaoh's Chief Advisor; his fear giving wings to his heels.  Behind him, in the dark earthy distance came the sound of pursuing guards. The lad sobbed as he ran, gulping in deep breaths of fetid air.


Escape was the only thought in the young lad's mind as he fled through the subterranean catacombs.


Sweat trickled down his lean muscled, dirt streaked torso and into his full loin pouch as he ran almost blindly through the passageways that were feebly lit by the occasional flaming torch jammed into the earthen walls.


The lad's blond hair, blue eyes and lusciously muscled body had first drawn his Masters eyes toward him; so rare were the lad’s attributes. As owner of the boy, the man had total rights over him and was perfectly entitled to do whatever he wished to do to the lad. Which he often did; visiting such perverted actions upon the boy as to cause his present frantic flight.


The unseen observer was powerless to give warning as hands emerged out of the darkness to ground the boy’s flight.




In the cool of the central chamber far below the estate, the boy stood between two burly guards. The unnoticed voyeur could see the light from the many torches reflected from the boy’s perspiring, heaving chest and big frightened eyes as they darted around the room. Though the room was warm, the virtually naked boy shivered with fear and dread. The men held the lad fast; there would be no escape. 


The big guards glanced at each other, clearly curious as to why their Master had ordered the boy brought to him. Their piqued interest may also have been due to the fact that they, too, were not immune to the youngsters appeal. Their large, beefy manhoods stirred and swelled mightily as they cast their eyes over the lean sweating torso of the lad. The Watcher shared their feelings as he noted the guards eyes up the boy's smooth developed pecs and rippled abdomen and the heavy fullness of the lad's tightly stretched loin pouch.  However, they knew better than to touch their Master's  property. 


The slave boy's panicky eyes lighted on a curious looking contraption at one end of the room. At first glance it resembled a chair of metal. As well as the legs, there appeared to be a complex arrangement of cogs and levers that occupied the space under the seat. Behind the chair and between the back two legs near floor level was a large foot pedal. Any further detail was impossible to discern from the lad’s viewpoint.


One of the shadows at the edge of the room solidified and the Master stepped forward. A small wiry figure swathed in black robes. The youth shuddered involuntarily as the figure drew closer. Small but dangerous eyes glittered as they slowly looked the lad up and down, pausing as they drank in the bulging loin pouch.


A dry falsetto voice spoke. 


"Trying to leave me so soon?"


A dry bony hand raised and slowly stroked the left cheek of the boy who swallowed nervously.


"Have I not fed you? Have I not sheltered you?"


As he spoke these words, the man let his hand stray down and rest palm down on the boy’s sweating left pec, gently plucking at the lad’s full nipple.


The youth shivered and trembled as the man continued to squeeze and pinch the youngsters bud.


"Unnngh...please, Sire,....noooo..."


The boy shook his head numbly, trying to move away as the man slowly slid his hand down the lad’s sweating torso and across the flat rippled abdomen but he was held fast by the guards. The hand glided further downward to the front of the lad’s loin pouch.


"So full of youth and vitality." breathed the old man, tracing his bony finger along the clear outline that the boy's intimate organ made against the stretched thin loin pouch material.


The Master gently grasped and manipulated the bulge making the boy moan quietly as he tried, in vain, to stop his youthful body from responding.  The guards felt their mouths water and their manhoods swell as they watched the man slowly molest the captive boy.


"I thought you had promise....thought that you would rise above the rest to become my favorite. Alas, it was not to be.  But come; enough of an old man’s yearnings. Let me show you another of my prized possessions."


The guards pulled the boy along, following the cloaked figure. The Master stopped at the strange contraption that had caught the boy’s eye earlier. As the slave was pulled closer to the device, the lad could make out more detail. What the lad took to be the seat of the chair wasn't a proper seat as there was a gaping hole in the middle, through which he could see a complicated mechanism. Parts of the mechanism seemed to stand out of the hole proud of the seat level. The fat tip of a cucumber shaped length of metal protruded about 3 inches out of the large hole. Its surface was adorned with ridges and bumps. Additionally, metallic claws also were visible just proud of the seat level.  Projecting outwards at an angle from the front of each side of the seat were leg support extensions which would hold the legs of any sitter widely spread...


At the front lip of the seat were 2 dials, each marked with values up to 10.


The man made a movement with his hand and 2 other guards appeared from the shadows. One took a position behind the seat, placing a foot on the pedal. The other knelt before the seat, placing each hand on the dials.


"Let me show you how this marvellous machine operates". The man smiled with eagerness at the nervous slave lad.


At a gesture, the guard operating the pedal pumped it smoothly and regularly. The mechanism operated and the boy’s eyes widened as he saw the phallic column of metal lower below the seat only to rise to its previous height above the seat. It repeated this action continuously in response to the pedal motion. Additionally, the metal length rotated. In a vaguely similar mode, the metal claws seemed to draw down below the seat and part slightly before coming together to their original position just proud of the seat level.


The teenager’s eyes shone as he watched the boy’s fearful face and panting chest.


"Now watch as the left dial is turned."


The guard operating the dials twisted the left dial from 1 to 2. The mechanism seemed to shift as though a gear had been changed and the rising column of metal rose 1 inch higher before falling. The metal claws continued to travel and move as before.


"And now the right dial", breathed the man.


At the twist of the right dial, the claws dropped down and moved apart further than before, returning to their original position.


"The sensations this machine will show you...," whispered the man as he moved closer to the lad and placed his hand on the boy’s loin pouch, squeezing the lad’s bulge softly and almost sadly...


The man gripped and yanked the covering pouch away, exposing the lad's heavy cock and full, low hanging balls. The cloaked figure feasted his glittering eyes upon the teenager’s handsome equipment, lingering over the thick uncut hanging cock with the tip of a fulsome cock head peeking out shyly from it's fleshy covering.


The teen squirmed in vain as the old man gently fondled the lad’s large hanging balls.


"Such beautiful eggs....such a waste..."


He gestured to his guards.


The Watcher instinctively knew what was coming and dreaded it for the boy and yet strangely thirsted to see the tableaux unfold.


A fresh cold wave of sweat broke out on the youth as the horror of what was about to be unleashed upon him dawned. With a strangled moan, the muscular blond lad made a last ditch attempt to escape but alas, in vain. The guards wanted to witness this impending spectacle...


The big men wrestled the struggling youth into the chair. The lad let out a moan as he was pressed into the seat; feeling the fat tip of the metal length press firmly against his quivering anus. The lad’s arms and legs were quickly strapped tightly into place. 


The invisible observer felt his own lustful juices stir as he gazed at the good looking boy sitting helplessly, his legs obscenely splayed, as the old man knelt between them. The man opened each spring loaded claw and pushed each of the lad’s balls into them.


"Aaaaarrrrgh," screamed the youth as the closing claws clamped down on each ball.


The figure momentarily looked up at the slave, a pained look on his face.


"Come, come my boy, we haven't even started. I took you to have more in you than this. Show me your stamina and strength. Show me that you can make the grade" [Author's note: The phrase 'making the grade' did not likely exist in ancient Egypt but all conversation has been colloquialised and modernised for ease of interpretation.]


"Yes, you have lots in you my lad and I want it all...."


At a gesture, the man nodded to the guard who started to pump the pedal.


The slave boy’s eyes widened with horror as he felt the rotating metal piece push up and down against his quivering anus though not penetrating....yet.


"Now, let's see what happens", murmured the man as he twisted the left dial from 1 to 2.


"Uurgh", moaned the kid as the column pushed an inch up into the entry of his anus.  The boy’s wide pleading eyes begged his master to stop; a look which merely excited the figure in black further who licked his lips in anticipation of the feast to come.  He twisted the dial to 3.




Sweat popped out on the boy’s lean torso as he twisted his body in vain to avoid the impaling metal. 3 inches of solid metal continuously impaled the struggling teen.


The guards started to rub between their own legs as the hot scene unfolded.


The Watcher was salivating, his own needs now demanding to be met. 


The man in black who crouched between the boy’s splayed legs licked his lips and became impatient; his eyes fixed upon the youth’s cock which lay shrivelled with the pain and discomfort of his clutched balls and the impaling metal dildo.


He looked up at the moaning kid.


"Let me show you how much you can like this".  He twisted the dial up by 3 levels.


"Aaaaaarghhhhhhh......!" screamed the youth, as the metal dildo thrust up 6 inches into his convulsing bowels.


"Unnnnnggggh.....aaaarggghhh...," gurgled the lad as his insides tried to accommodate the invading metal pole.


The metal piece continuously hit hard against the lad’s prostate causing a warm urinating feeling of pleasure spread outward throughout the loins of the youth turning his screams to grunts and moans of involuntary pleasure.


The boy’s equipment started to move and swell.


"Mmmmmm....nnnggg...," gurgled the kid, his head laid against the chair back, his eyes closed in pleasure as the impaling metal punished his pleasure gland causing ecstasy to course through his quivering loins.


The man’s eyes lit with lustful greed as he watched the boy’s cock visibly lengthen and fatten as it responded to the pummelling of the boy’s fuck nut.


He clapped his hands with glee as the youth’s member continued to grow and expand, the bulbous cock head started to be unpeeled as the erection continued.


The man’s mouth watered as he savoured the feast to follow.  He licked the boy’s abs and chest, lifting off the coating of salty sweat. When he looked down, almost 7 inches of thick throbbing teen male meat met the Master’s eyes.


The man moaned his carnal delight as he stared at the bloated cockhead and watched the clear honey ooze out of the boy’s piss slit to slide slowly over the bulbous head and drip down the thick meaty sides of the boy’s stiff tool.


The kneeling man held the youth’s stiff fuck pole at its base with both hands and lapped at the boy’s turgid meat and licked around the bubbling piss hole, smacking his lips as he tasted the fresh sweet liquor.


"Now I need more essence," husked the man and turned the other dial.


The lad's blissful smile faltered as the claws gripping each of his balls started to move apart.


"Unngh....no..Master...no,", moaned the boy as the man further moved the dial.


"Aaaarghhhhhh," screamed the kid as his balls were pulled further apart causing knives of pain to shoot up from his testicles.


The man nodded to himself as he observed that more creamy juice was now being given up by the youngster's tortured balls.


The guards, unable to contain themselves, reached down on either side of the boy’s chest and twisted his nipples viciously.


"Aaaaaiieeeeeeee," screamed the bound kid causing the man to look up and nod his approval.


"Pleasure is nice, but pain gives up the substance," moaned the man as he moved the dial yet further.


The blond boy’s continued screams of pain ricocheted around the dark cavern.


The Watcher inched closer, desperate to see the detail of the boy’s torture.


The figure in black lowered his head and started to feed on the rich creamy harvest.  His hand moved the first dial and 10 inches of rotating metal were suddenly impaling the shrieking youngster increasing the crescendo of his torture.  The lad’s intestines were being distended beyond the intention of nature whilst his prostate was being mashed mercilessly moving the boy into another world of indescribable pain and horrifying pleasure which forced his ruined balls to churn out thick ambrosia..


The lad’s convulsing jerking torso twisted this way and that as the 10 inch piece of metal ploughed repeatedly into the kid’s innards and his balls were pulled apart beyond endurance. The constant crushing and mashing of the young slaves fuck nut forced his tortured balls to give up their creamy load and though the lad was in disemboweling agony, his tortured fuck nut forced his thick throbbing teen meat to continually pumped out thick porridgy cum into the greedy sucking man’s mouth.


The Watcher moaned and panted his own perverted desire as he watched the kneeling man feast upon the boy's offerings but even the ravenous sucking mouth couldn't contain all the lad’s juices as some of it oozed to the hard stone floor to join the small puddle of ass juices extracted from the constantly impaling rod of metal. 


The screams of the tortured boy punctuated the passing of time.


Finally, with a mad light in the Master’s eye, he twisted both dials as far as they could go.


The resulting shriek from the disemboweled boy lifted the Watcher up from his hiding place and up right out through the caverns ceiling.


"Nooooooo," wailed the Watcher as he strained to look downward.  He thought he saw the figure finally finish feeding and gesture to the four guards who fell upon the lad.....


The Watcher woke up......




Coach Peterson jerked awake to the 'screaming' of the telephone as he shot his wet dream into his sweats.  


The Physical Instructor moaned his pleasure and frustration as he lay for a moment; his loins spasmodically pumping jets of hot liquid pleasure into his shorts whilst trying to cling on the delicious tendrils of his rapidly evaporating dream.  


He picked up the phone.


It was Jack Sawyer.


"Hi, Tom, sorry, but this evening is off. The Police have just rung- Matt has been taken in."




Two hours previous, Matt made his way somewhat unsteadily down the path leading from the white church. His rear passage ached terribly and he was beat. However, although the handsome 16 year old was tired, he was elated in his heart. The light in his dark eyes had returned and strands of his dark hair bounced across his eyes as he walked back along the road to his home town.  His eyes shone with a renewed hope and gratitude to the priest for removing the taint of his molestation by the English teacher and making him normal again.  


The warm afternoon sun was hot on his back and he removed his t-shirt, tucking it into the waistband of his tight fitting jeans. The slanting sun rays beautifully highlighted the lad’s excellent physique; the firm delineated pecs were crowned by large firm nipples and the emergent ripples of his 6 pack were enhanced by the light sheen of sweat that coated his torso in the warm afternoon sun. His mood was light and he flashed a bright smile and waved happily to a passing patrol car as it slowly cruised by him.


Whilst he walked, he thought back on his ordeal with the priest. He certainly didn't expect the strange treatment he got when he went to Father Bryce to confess his sins though he knew in his heart that he would have done anything that meant he was normal in the eyes of God.  His innocent mind tried to figure it all out. He knew that the English Teacher had tainted him because he felt bad about the way the old man had molested him and felt up his young body making him enjoy what was clearly an evil thing.  He recalled how Johnson kept massaging and squeezing his full jockstrap pouch causing him to moan with pleasure although he knew it was clearly wrong.  


He couldn't quite understand how it was different when Father Bryce kneaded and fondled his jockstrap pouch after unfastening his jeans but obviously it was correct to let the priest do it because the priest was a representative of God. As such, he had tried desperately not to moan and squirm with pleasure as Father Bryce massaged and flat tongued his swollen length of teen meat behind the elastic mesh of his jock pouch. He was frightened that if the priest knew he was enjoying it, he might think he was beyond redemption and he so desperately wanted to be saved.


Matt also realised that the candle, which Father Bryce used on him whilst murmuring the Lords Prayer, must have been a specially blessed candle which would remove all traces taint which the English Teacher had left.  That was obviously why the priest had to work it up as far it would go. Although it had hurt terribly, though in a strangely pleasurable way, he trusted the priest that it would enable him to receive Gods forgiveness.  


More crucially, he remembered the words of guidance that Father Bryce had given him, and that was that if any man touches him whilst trying to help him (and naturally, Bryce had used himself in the capacity of a priest) then that was perfectly normal and nothing to be suspicious of. After all, normal good men aren't interested in him at all since he was a boy and not a girl. Clearly the English teacher was a pervert and the Devil worked through him since teaching English had nothing whatsoever to do with sucking him off or working his finger up his arse.    


This had made perfect sense to Matt and he was grateful to Father Bryce for making things clear for him.   


Perhaps Matt would have been confused if he had realised that the good Father was watching him walk down the road whilst inhaling the aroma of the boy’s jockstrap and licking the candle that had just been deep in the kid's insides...




Officer Lomand was bored. At 58, he had just about seen everything. With almost 36 years of service as one of the town’s officers and deputy sheriff, he knew most of the rather dull residents. Every day he would have to listen to dull stories from dull people and go home to his dull wife and that completed his rather dull life. It was because of this, Lomand would often drive out to nearby towns to see what excitement he could find. 


What constituted excitement, however, was not the same as his rather dull acquaintances view of excitement. For what burned deep inside his fat and heavy being, was a sadistic sexual predator that was consumed with lust for the sturdy juicy cocks and tight moist sweet anuses of young lads. 


Often he would park up nearby a football pitch and watch schoolboys play football. His beady piggy eyes would search out the most comely and athletic looking of lads and watch them closely and admire their young sturdy muscled legs and their panting firm torsos as they called to each other. Even better in the summer, like now, when often the lad’s would strip off their football shirts treating him to beautiful views of their fine developed pecs and firm lean stomachs. But heaven of heavens if a lad should be playing football without a jockstrap....    


Lomand would quickly identify him by carefully scrutinising their young crotches for any sign of ponderous movements between their sturdy legs.  He would lick his lips as he imagined what would be in those football shorts; the fine sweat that would cover the lad’s cock and balls and the moist trembling anus that would lie deep between those firm teenage cheeks.... 


He would discreetly rub himself through his cop trousers as he imagined abducting one of the cute boy’s and tying them up and focusing on the struggling kid’s assets....  Oh, the moans and screams he would be able to elicit....


Lomand was close to dozing at the wheel as he slowly drove up the road until he saw the back of a young lad walking ahead. His interest was immediately peaked when he saw the lad was topless. As he drew close, he took in the broad tanned shoulders and a sturdy back that narrowed to a trim waist. As he got closer, his eyes were able to appreciate the trim firm arse in the tight denim and the sturdy legs which powered the boy along the road. Drawing level, the boy flashed him a smile and a wave that immediately sent a dagger of lust stabbing deep in his groin.


Perhaps it was perfectly sculpted young male torso that did it, or the near perfect teeth with the dark flashing eyes; or perhaps it was the full smiling lips or the clean, male jaw line. Then again, perhaps it was simply that the boy looked the perfect age at around 16. Glancing swiftly downward at the lad’s groin, he swore softly as his eyes briefly captured what appeared to be a very healthy bulge which appeared to spread across the left side of the lad’s thigh.  That gave the man an idea and Lomand decided he was going to have the young Adonis one way or another....




Chapter 5


The dusty road was empty apart from a police car that was pulled over to one side.  A fat officer with piggy eyes and a piggy waistline was out of the car, talking to a young strapping lad who was handcuffed behind his back as he stood with his back against the sheriff’s car. Any casual observer would have missed the hunger with which the officers eyes raked over the boy’s broad, smooth well developed chest that was perspiring slightly in the late afternoon sun. The observer would have missed the officer's slow appraisal of the 16 year olds lean abs that clearly revealed the ripples of a 6 pack as he breathed nervously in and out.  The casual observer would also have missed the way the officer kept licking his lips as tried to stop looking down from the boy’s good looking face to feast his eyes upon the lad’s very healthy male bulge that spread down one leg....


A worried frown creased Matt’s young forehead. He was trembling slightly with fear and the fact that he was summarily handcuffed. This sort of thing had never happened to him before.


"How old are you son?" asked Lomand.


"16, Sir...."


"Perfect," breathed Lomand. He licked his right thumb and slowly tilted the boy’s chin upward to look at him while wiping the thumb slowly across the lad’s full lips...


"Now boy, I have reason to believe you're a terrorist as it looks to me you may be carrying a weapon," started Lomand.


Matt stared in disbelief.


"But S...Sir, I'm not a t...terrorist.  I'm not carrying any weapons at all".


"Doesn't look like it from where I'm standing boy," sneered Lomand as his eyes flashed down to gaze between the school boy’s sturdy legs.


Lomand laughed into the lad’s confused face.


A car passed by, the horn tooting.  One of the nearby townsfolk waved at Lomand who nodded recognition.  "Hi Stan....,"


He waited till the car had disappeared over the brow of the distant rise before turning back to the teenager’s.


"Anyway, that's for me to decide," grunted Lomand as casually lay the tip of his nightstick between the lad’s defined pecs and slowly traced a line with it to Matt’s jeans line.


Matt felt vaguely uncomfortable at the way the officer was staring at his chest and torso and he wished he had kept his t-shirt on. He thought irrationally that perhaps it was somehow against the law to be topless...


"So what have you been doing today son?"


Matt saw a chance to look good in the officer’s eyes.


"I've been to Church, Sir", he said a little proudly and then added with inspiration, "and I've even been speaking to the priest, Father Bryce.  Do you know him?"


The lad hoped it would prove that he was a good boy and was certainly no terrorist.


Lomand felt his cock jerk when he heard Bryce's name.  Oh yes, he knew old Bryce very well. In fact, he would pull the old priest’s fat out of the fire whenever there was a complaint of molestation from some of the villagers. He would always find a way of convincing the good people of the town that any such allegations were clearly untrue and were outrageous attempts at spoiling the honorable man’s good name. In turn, he would often enjoy afternoon tea at Father Bryce’s office and for entertainment, Bryce would summon one of the orphan choir boys he kept under his wing to stand in front of them and sing. Bryce would sit back and smile beneficently whilst Lomand enjoyed the purity of the lad’s voice.  He would also lick his lips and watch as the officer would slide his hands under the choir boy's vestments and up the lad’s quivering legs and use his fat strong fingers to help the kid reach the real high notes.....


Lomand looked the boy up and down and was jealous of what Father Bryce must have recently enjoyed.


"Really, son?  I imagine Father Bryce must be very pleased with you....."


The man continued to rake his eyes over Matt’s perspiring body, enjoying the spectacle of the well built teen.


In the long awkward silence, Lomand took his time lifting his nightstick to rub against each nipple in turn, watching them stiffen involuntarily to the stimulus.


"Unngh...p..please..Sir...I'm innocent...ungh...."   Matt moaned with fear and yet a strange pleasure as the officer continued to gently pummel and work his nipples with the heavy thick stick.


"You work out boy?" asked Lomand as he pressed his left palm against the kids tight stomach, pushing Matt against the car. The man started to slowly rub his palm over the boy’s warm moist torso, his fingers lovingly fingering every ripple of its muscular surface.


"Y...yes Sir....I train every day with my Dad......" said Matt, his mind unsure where the conversation was going.  All he knew was that he mustn't lie to the police.


"Your Father certainly has the eye....," mused Lomand, his mind working whilst he continued to slide his palm up and over the lad’s warm perspiring chest.


".....as you've got a fine body there boy..."


"Unnngh...T...thank you S...Sir," stuttered Matt, taking care not to say anything that might make the officer angry.  His body squirmed slightly as his nipples kept firing back darts of pleasure under the constant rubbing of the officer’s nightstick.


"Oh yes...a damn fine body indeed", said Lomand who then starting rolling the boy’s left nipple between his left thumb and forefinger while moving his nightstick down and between the boy’s legs.   


"Yes indeedy," murmured Lomand as he started to slide the stick slowly between Matt’s legs, angling it so it would rub along the length of the boy’s bulge.


Matt's mind was in confusion. In one way, he felt proud that the officer had complimented him on his fitness. He knew his Dad would be proud that another man recognised the hard work and effort he had put into his weight training. He wanted nothing more than for his Dad to be proud of him.  At the same time, he couldn't understand why the man thought he was a terrorist. What had he done to give that impression? Obviously it must have been something.


The boy shivered and moaned slightly under the man’s manipulations....


"Bet all the boy’s and girls like you don't they pretty boy...?" breathed Lomand, his right hand continuously working the stick back and forth whilst squeezing and plucking at the kids erect nipples with his left.


Matt couldn't help wincing and moaning as darts of pain flashed out from his chest as Lomand increasingly applied more strength.




Although his chest hurt him, Matt felt a warm wave of pleasure coming from his groin as the wooden stick  rubbed his cock repeatedly and without realising, he start to push his hips forward to the rhythm of the nightstick.


"N..no...p..please S..Sir...aaarggh..unnngh..." gurgled the lad as the thick stick continued  to pleasure him.


Although Matt had been forced to totally empty his balls back in Father Bryce’s private office, his young hormone filled teen body was rapidly responding again and to his horror he realised that his cock was lengthening and fattening and his heavy balls start to roil and churn with their creamy contents in response to the officers actions.  


Lomand’s eyes widened.


"Holy shit boy, if that isn't a pistol you've got, you fucking need a jockstrap....   I ought to pull you in under the obscenity laws".


Matt realised with shock that he must have left his jock back in the church with Father Bryce.  


"P..please S..Sir, don't arrest me.  I always wear a jock.  Um....I...er... g..guess I just kinda forgot today." He finished lamely. How could he explain to the Officer that he wore a jockstrap going into church and left church without it?


Lomand relished the worried, good looking face and felt the vicious stab of lust jerk about deep in his balls.  He wanted to kiss that perfect young mouth, shove his fat tongue down the kid’s young fresh throat and then force feed it with fat drooling cop cock. He wanted to shove all his fingers deep into the lad’s anus and make him scream again and again with the pain. But he knew he had to be be careful as he had been seen by the passing motorist, dammit.


The Officer dropped the nightstick and started to feel up and down the length of the kid’s bulge with his strong pudgy fingers.


"Unnghhh....no...aaahhh", panted the youngster under the ministrations of the leering man.


"Feels like some fucking tool you got there boy," grunted Lomand as he continued to work the boy’s private organ with his hard insistent fingers through the thin tight denim material.


"Please...noooo....don't Sir...no...unngggh...." gurgled Matt, as sweet agonising waves of pleasure shot out from his throbbing member.


Matt was panting and sweating, partly out of fear but also due to the sexual need that was starting to rise within him.  He couldn't help closing his eyes in ecstasy at the waves of pleasure that was caused by the man’s probing rubbing fingers and the coarseness of the thin denim material against his sensitive cockhead. The man used his other hand to start squeezing the bulge made by the lad’s full loaded balls


"Feels like you like a man’s hand on your weapon boy...," hissed Lomand as he worked the lad’s equipment.


The school boy was moaning and trembling against the car, his eyes closed in denial and his mind in shock. He tried to deny the undeniable pleasure that the Officer was giving him.  


Even his nipples hurt beautifully.  


"Oh yes Boy, you like it don't you?" moaned the man as he saw a damp patch start to develop near the end of the boy’s bulge.


The man started to rub and squeeze Matt’s cockhead through the denim with a strong fat thumb and forefinger seeing if he could make the lad shoot.


Matt moaned his physical and emotional conflict. He desperately tried not to give in to the bubbling orgasm that was sweetly trembling behind his pulsing balls because he was sure it was wrong to give in to another male's touch. Similarly, his mind told him this couldn't be happening because he had received God's grace and absolution and that he must be normal. 


In an attempt to not betray his burgeoning sexual feelings, he tried to push the man away, feebly, with his body.


Lomand sneered. He saw the opportunity.


"I'm taking you in for resisting arrest boy. There, we can do a proper search to see what you're carrying." Lomand snarled.


Matt was in shock. His mind was numb.  He had never been in trouble with the Police before. Also, he couldn't understand why he was enjoying the officer feeling him up. He thought that he was no longer tainted.


Above all, he dreaded his father finding out that he had been arrested by the police.


As he travelled back to the station in the car, his general misery was compounded by Lomand who occasionally reached over with one hand to fondle the helpless boy’s chest or pinch a nipple. More often than not, he would grope between the kids legs, manipulating Matt's most private of areas, keeping the moaning lad simmering in reluctant lust. Lomand kept licking his lips, anticipating what was to follow......




Jack Sawyer was doing very well at filling up that glass with the steady stream of thick creamy ball juice as he wallowed in his perverted images and plans for his son.  


He was in a strange place; half his mind was that of a caring and devoted father- keen on ensuring his son excelled at everything he did. Hence his determination that Matt do well at English as well as his sports. The other half of his mind was that of a pervert who saw his son as the flesh of his flesh and to be enjoyed as he saw fit. The two aspects of his personality lived uneasily side by side; each side having temporary dominance depending on circumstance. His beautiful wife who had tragically passed away a few years ago had left an aching void in his life though, by Gods good grace, he was able to see the beauty of his wife in his son every morning and evening.  In many ways, it was now perfect. He was able to keep something of his wife near him whilst, as a boy, Matt was able to support his obsession for working out.  


Yes, Matt served several purposes.....


He was wallowing in a scene where a big man was behind Matt, pinning his arms behind him with a knee in his back to immobilise him whilst another man was kneeling in front of the boy, ripping away at the boy’s flies causing trouser buttons to fly everywhere and then working his strong big fingers into the ripped opening in search of young thick cock and full teen balls.  The boy was squirming, moaning and screaming to be let go of but to no avail......     


The phone rang.


"Mr. Sawyer?  Officer Lomand here, I'm sorry to say your boy Matt has been arrested."




The small village jailhouse only had 2 holding cells; one was already occupied by the regular local drunk hobo, his old unshaven face lolling in fitful sleep as he slumped on the only bench in the cell.  The sounds and smells arising from the tramp clearly spoke of a man that had shunned the world that had shunned him.


Lomand pushed Matt roughly into the adjoining cell.


"I'll keep your t-shirt for the time being boy; don't want you trying to hang yourself", grunted Lomand whose real reason was simply to admire the boy’s broad defined chest and tight stomach.


He indicated the intervening bars that separated Matt’s cell from the other cell with a jerk of his head.


"Hands up and apart; grip the bars; legs apart."


Matt was horrified as Lomand handcuffed each wrist and ankle to the bars virtually immobilising him facing the tramp's cell through the intervening bars.


"Please Officer, there's no need....,"   The lad was almost babbling with anxiety.


"Whilst you're a terror suspect boy, it's standard procedure."


Lomand turned to his deputy, a lanky man of about 40 who eyed Matt speculatively.


"Ennis, keep an eye on the kid whilst I tend to something...."


The man nodded absently whilst eyeing up the lad. 


Although Ennis was not attracted to his own sex, he was well aware of Lomand’s perverted preferences and was happy to accommodate them. After all, it kept him in a job and Lomand was happy with his performance.


He had to admit, however, that the miserable looking lad handcuffed to the bars was, indeed, a very good looking boy. He knew that the kid must work out regularly as the boy’s body had the look of a gymnast.  Looking between the kids legs and at the boy’s face, he had to concede that the lad had definitely received God's blessing in every single department....


Ennis knew why Lomand had picked the kid up and knowing what the tramp was regularly picked up for caused a wry smile to break on his lips....


Yes, he thought, why not have a little sport. He dragged his nightstick against the cell bars of the tramp, creating a racket.


"Wake up you bum!  Look what we've got for you", shouted Ennis.


Matt looked at the unshaven drunk with disgust as the waves of alcohol and body odor washed up toward him.


The bundle of rags moved and grunted and red rimmed, alcohol soused eyes blinked open.


"Wha...what? For fuck’s sake stop that fucking noise!"


Ennis sneered.  "Your lucky day today buddy. You get hauled in for interfering with kids in the park and now you have one all to yourself...."


Matt looked on, horrified at Ennis's words, and dread filled him as he detected a lustful gleam enter the tramps sore bulging eyes and a rictus smile showed black decaying teeth poking out from a rough wild beard.


The bum looked over the shackled boy and what he saw caused him to grunt with rapidly rising lust.


Matt’s broad shoulders and muscular arms strained as the 16 year old futilely tried to pull away from the bars, his emerging 6 pack showing gorgeously under the smooth tanned skin.


The lad appealed to Ennis desperately.


"Please sir, no, don't let him near me..."


The bent over hobo started to grunt his appreciation as he drew closer to the boy.


Matt watched in dread as the tramps bleary red rimmed eyes raked hungrily over his torso and then rested on his ample lunchbox.


"Well, you're a looker aren't you son?  Mmmmm. Nice big nipples for me to chew on and to pull...yes..... Gonna stroke you boy, fondle your juicy parts, your big thick boy cock, your full loaded balls...make you cream for me..."


The tramp slowly shuffled toward the young helpless lad....


Ennis grinned and leaned against the wall and waited for the entertainment to begin.


The drunk reached out filthy claws towards the boy’s firm brown nipples....






Jack Sawyer rushed up to the desk, a mix of anger and anxiety on his face.


"I'm Jack, Matt Sawyer’s Father. What's happened, why have you arrested my boy?"


Jack was a head and shoulders above the fat heavy detective but Lomand wasn't intimidated.


Lomand appraised the large man and noted his beefy well built frame and understood instantly where the boy got his influence from.


The officer noted the possessive claim the big man made on the kid and how the man was clearly making the boy in his image. Well, as far as the body was concerned anyway, Lomand amended. He couldn't imagine where the boy had got his arresting male beauty from....


"He's been arrested on terrorism charges Mr. Sawyer; it appeared he was carrying a weapon on him. We first need to question him......"


Jack exploded.  


"That's ridiculous- terrorism?  My boy has never held a weapon in his life.  I demand he be released immediately"


Jack glared at Lomand, his face angry, disbelieving and impatient.


".....and then I will have to carry out a strip search of him to ensure he's not concealing any weapon. Of course, as he's a minor and as  the parent, you have the right to observe so there is no treatment that you feel unwarranted, though I have to advise you that as it is a terrorism charge, the search may need to be intrusive." Lomand continued as if Jack hadn't said anything.


Lomand watched Jack very closely and observed the big man slowly take in what had just been said.


"A strip search...?  I can watch...?


Lomand nodded, trying not to smile.


"That's correct. Sir. You won't be allowed in the same room of course but you will be able to observe everything through a 2-way mirror as part of our detainee protection code."


"And my boy won't know I'm there?" asking Jack, his mind starting to race and his pulse quicken. He started to feel a tightness in his jeans.


Lomand smiled.


"That's right Mr. Sawyer, he'll have no idea that you were ever here at all, if that's what you wish."


"Er, yes, Officer Lomand....um, can I call you, Bill?  That's exactly what I want," said Jack, noting the Officer's name badge.


"Of course…happy to oblige..."


Lomand watched Jack lick his lips expectantly and decided to test his suspicion.


He lowered his voice conspiratorially.


"Actually, it's rather silly really. I picked up your boy as I thought I saw the outline of a weapon in his jeans but of course, I realise now that it wasn't a weapon at all.....  Anyway now that I've started the process, it's awkward for me to stop it.  But as I said, as guardian of the lad, you are at liberty to protest against the search and I won't cause any obstacle...."


Lomand waited, trying to put on a helpful look on his face.


Jack kept his face neutral. "I think it's good that my boy learns from this experience. It will teach him not to play with weapons in the future...."


Lomand continued to watch Jack carefully.  "Well, I won't make it intrusive then as it may cause the lad some of pain...."


Jack tried to be casual through his burgeoning excitement.  "Hey, that's all right, he's a fit muscular boy, a bit of discomfort will do him good. I want him to be a bit hard. He's a boy, after all."


Lomand took a risk and reached down to casually rub his groin.  "Take it from me, hardness is not a problem with your boy...". 


Jack looked steadily back at Lomand and rubbed his own bulge meaningfully.  "Then you give him as much pain as you want Officer.  Oh, and by the way, please, call me Jack."


Both men smiled and shook hands.




After Coach Peterson had received the news about Matt, he thought of going to the police station to offer any support to Matt and Jack as he could.  Firstly though, he made his way to the locker room to shower and freshen up after the most enjoyable wet dream he just had.


He had stripped off his top and sweats and was just about to remove his cum stained jockstrap when he noticed Timmy, who was sitting in the far corner, almost out of sight. The blond haired lad was still in his shorts staring into space; his expression slightly melancholy.


Peterson felt a pang of concern.  Had his selfish perversion mentally damaged the boy he wondered?  Would the boy lodge a complaint?  


The man approached the lad.  As he approached, Timmy saw him and pulled himself together and jumped to his feet, his hands behind him.


"Er...Hi Timmy.  I thought you'd have showered and been gone from here by now."


The 14 year old looked at the big man, his eyes wide and slightly distracted.


"Hi Coach.....I dunno. I guess I was just thinking about things...."


"Please, Timmy, sit down"


Peterson glanced down and saw the stains down the kids legs where the streams of cum were drying.  The boy had obviously not tried to wash or dry himself up. Despite himself, the man couldn't help feeling a tightness develop in his jock pouch as he looked upon the cute boy sitting on the locker bench in his small tight white shorts with a stained damp bulge at the front.


"Look Timmy, if it's about the rope exercise earlier.....I mean, you've nothing to be upset about or ashamed of...... "


A tiny spark of hope was borne in Timmy’s eyes.


"Really Coach. Do you really think so?  I thought you'd be mad cos I.......you know....lost control......"


"Hey Timmy- don't even think about it.  It's natural for young lads to cum. All boys need to orgasm. Perhaps it was my fault for asking you to do the exercise too long. I know the exercise takes a lot of discipline..."


All this talk about cumming with the young school lad was starting to make Peterson’s jock pouch even larger.  He noticed the lad kept looking uncertainly at his pouch which excited him even more.


"But I, you know, lost control too soon and without permission......"


Peterson was suddenly confused.  "er......you don't need my permission son...."


Longing burned in Timmy’s eyes.


"I wish you were my Dad, my Dad punishes me if I cum before he gives me permission..."


"Oh.......................I see....," said Peterson in a very small voice, his mind reeling and his cock jerking and swelling further from this revelation.


"Of course, you must obey your Father, son."  Peterson knew he had to choose his words carefully.


The lad nodded.


"Er....how does he punish you?"   


Timmy looked up at Peterson, unsure whether to say anything. The fact that Peterson looked liked the first person who cared, made Timmy  crumble.


"He hits my balls with the back of a metal spoon."


Peterson stifled a moan of lust as an image formed in his mind of the blond kid screaming in pain while lying on his back holding his knees wide giving full access to a man thwacking the boy’s big balls and young thick cock. Of course, Peterson realised, the boy would be beaten where nobody would see the marks......


He felt sorry for the kid, but like Jack Sawyer, he firmly believed that it was the right of any man to do what the hell he liked to his boy.


Now that he knew the boy was used to being physically and sexually abused, it made it easier to do what he wanted.


"Well son, in my book, the more a boy can cum, the better."


He kneeled down before the shy lad and parted the kid’s knees. He reached for the boy’s damp bulge.


10 minutes later, the locker room was filled with high pitched rapid panting of a 14 year old boy...




Matt’s abs rippled gorgeously under his smooth tight skin as he tried to twist and turn and wrench away from the pinching clutching fingers of the hobo. The cell room rang with the lad’s moans and groans as the tramp assaulted the young lad’s nipples.


"Nooooo.....aaaaaargggghhhh..........unnnnnghhhh....please- don't....stop...aaaaargghhh"


Ennis leaned against the wall, smiling at the lad’s discomfort.


"Such lovely muscles...," crooned the tramp as he started to rub his palm along the boy’s tight undulating abs.


The drunk’s eyes fell upon the bulge in Matt’s tight jeans and they widened.


With surprising speed, the old man fell to his knees, snaked a hand through the bars and between the boy’s legs and up to grab the back of the boy’s jeans and pull him fast against the bars.  With his left hand, the man started to gently rub the bulge back and forward.


"Mmmm.   I think you have a lovely present for me don'tcha my boy?  And what a lovely big package it is.  I wonder what's in it."


The man started to knead the bulge; working it with his hard grimy fingers.


"Mmm. Something definitely hard and juicy in there....."


"Unnnghhh...no...don't...," moaned Matt, trying to ignore the deliciously pleasurable feelings coming from his groin.


The man pressed his nose against Matt’s basket and inhaled long and noisily.


"I smell sweet meat.....thick and fresh....and....moist."


The old tramp looked up at the lad and licked his lips.


"I can smell your juices boy....."


Matt looked down at the hobo with wide, horrified eyes.


The tramp reached up and unfastened the top button of the boy’s jeans with his left hand then returned it to feeling up the boy’s private organ through the thin denim material.


"What a lovely throatful it will be...," moaned the man almost to himself.  ".....I want your thick boy cream...."


Matt looked down in dread, shaking his head.


"Please mister...don't...."


"...wanna chew on your fat juicy knob head...."


Matt pleaded with Ennis.


"Please sir, stop him. It's not right. You can't let him do this to me...!


"....gonna push my fingers up your sticky boy hole...."


Ennis smiled and looked away.


The tramp unfastened the second button and then resumed his molestation.


The tramp’s manipulation of Matt’s cock caused it to swell and thicken against the lad’s will and push further down his tight pants leg.


"Oh my, what a feast this will be...," grunted the hobo.


The tramp popped the third metal fly button revealing the thick strong base of the schoolboy’s growing hard on and nestled just behind the lad’s thick meaty stalk were large ample balls.




"Oh lordy...," moaned the man.


As the tramp wrestled with the fourth button Lomand walked in.


Ennis snapped to.


The fat policeman took in the situation in an instant. Whilst he would have loved to watch the show along with Ennis, he had his own plans for the kid and they didn't include Ennis or the drunk..


"What the fuck....? Ennis, get the kid ready. Get his t-shirt back on. It's time for his interview."




Jack sat alone in the observation room; a large wall sized window looked into the interview room which only contained a table near to the window, two chairs and recording equipment. 


His heart was beating with excitement. He'd never seen another man touching his naked son before. So often had it fed his unnatural visions and now he would realise it.


The interrogation room door opened and Matt entered followed by Lomand.


The room they had entered was hot and sticky and somewhere a fly buzzed lazily.


They sat down facing each other across the table. 


Matt was looking down in shame that he was in this position.   


"You know now Matt, that you must tell me the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Everything you say will be recorded and if it's found out that you lied whilst under oath, you will be in very serious trouble."


The boy nodded meekly.


"What exactly were you doing in the Church with Father Bryce?"


Matt was in terrible conflict.  He wanted so desperately to hide the terrible perverted pleasure that he felt when he was molested by his teacher, Father Bryce and even Office Lomand himself. He hated the molestation in each case. He felt it was wrong. It was not asked for and in each case he felt forced upon and he didn't particularly like the men involved and yet he was at a loss to explain the wanton pleasure that coursed through his loins other than the fact that he must be perverted and a terrible disappointment in God’s eyes. As for his Father, he would rather die than be a disappointment to him.


"Please Sir, don't let my Dad know anything about this will you?" trembled the boy, his eyes welling up.


Lomand’s fat stubby cock was already throbbing in his pants at the power he now had over the good looking teen.


"If you tell the whole truth, and do as you're told, I won't need to tell him you were here at all....," said Lomand, sincerely.  He felt he didn't need to mention that it was because his father was on the other side of the mirror watching.


At this, Matt gave up the struggle and burst into racking sobs and told the officer (and tape recorder) everything from the time he was first assaulted by Johnson, the English Teacher and how his guilt drove him to Father Bryce for help.


Lomand felt his fat stubby cock burp with pre-cum as Matt told him what Bryce did to exorcise the demons within him.


On the other side of the mirror, Jack stood stunned, his mouth opened. He could see his son was very upset but, as he coudn't hear what was being said, he had no idea what the problem was. His father’s heart went out to Matt and he wanted to rush in and protect him and make things better. At the same time, he was wondering when the strip search was going to start.


Lomand breathed in deeply, savouring what was going to happen next.


"OK boy, stand up and face the mirror- hands behind your head."


On the other side of the mirror, Jack watched in increasing lust as Lomand stood behind his boy and slipped both hands under the front of the teens cut off t-shirt and wantonly felt the boy’s torso up.  


Jack could see from the closed eyes of the cop and the expression of lustful pleasure, that Lomand was very much enjoying running his hands all over his son’s muscular chest and pinching the kids nipples.  


Although Jack couldn't hear anything, it was clear that his son was emitting yelps of pain and the discomfort that he was feeling was clearly etched on the boy’s screwed up eyes.


Matt’s father drank in the unfolding scene. He loved the sight of the uniformed man molesting his boy’s chest; it was a dream coming true. 


Jack licked his lips and worked his package as he saw Lomand lift the front of the tank top up and hook it behind Matt’s head to fully expose the boy’s well defined chest and abs.


He groaned with lust when Lomand kneeled down behind Matt and snaked a hand between the boy’s sturdy legs and up to paw and feel the lad’s groin. He saw his son standing in the room with his hands on his head, flushed and sweating and looking mortified while the man continued to fully massage the boy's healthy teen bulge.


Jack worked his big basket and was breathing heavily as he watched Lomand manipulate his boy’s most private area.


Inside the hot interrogation room, Matt could not believe all this was happening to him. He was being strip searched by a police officer (though so far very little had been done in the way of actual searching).  He sadly realised that the devil must still be in his body as he continued to feel wave after wave of delicious pleasure as the officer kept squeezing and rubbing and feeling up his groin. Matt closed his eyes in ecstasy and tried to stop involuntary moans of pleasure from escaping his lips as the cop kept massaging the length of his young thick meat. 


"Now, I want to see the size of your weapon boy...," husked the lust driven man.


The fat officer was breathing heavily as he reach up from behind the boy and starting unbuttoning the kid’s flies.


"Oh yes.....," moaned Jack Sawyer, his eyes fixed on the scene as he worked the obscene lump at front of his jeans.


Matt was mortified as the man slowly unbuttoned his flies and there was nothing he could do to stop it......




Whilst Lomand was performing his civic duty, back in the boy’s locker room at the local school, Peterson looked down on the 14 year old lad who sat on the edge of the locker bench with his back leaning against the metal locker door, his legs spread wide.  His eyes were closed in bliss and his fit young body still trembled slightly in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm. His smooth young torso was shiny with perspiration.   


He still wore his tight white shorts but the thick prominent bulge in front of them was absolutely drenched and dripping with the lad’s fluids.  The the bulging fabric of the kids jockstrap could be clearly seen behind the thin material made translucent by the lad's juices. A thick string of viscous boy syrup descended slowly from the saturated bulge toward the tiled floor of the locker room. Fresh streams of creamy fluid trickled down the lad’s legs and soaked into his white socks.


"Did you enjoy that, son?" asked Peterson gently.


Timmy slowly open his blue eyes and nodded uncertainly. He was unused to being asked if he liked such things.


The Coach realised he might as well make use of the boy who was clearly being regularly abused anyway and stepped closer to the lad, his throbbing bulging jock pouch just in front of the boy’s face..


"Then I think one good turn deserves another then?"


The boy’s eyes stared nervously and uncertainly but with increasing resignation at the man’s bulging pouch just inches from his mouth.


The blond kid knew what was expected and with no expression simply nodded slowly.


As the boy reached up and slowly pulled down Peterson’s jockstrap, the man wondered what exactly went on in the lad’s home.


"Do you like sucking your Daddys cock, Timmy?" asked the Coach gently.


The boy looked up at Peterson and shrugged in a sad sort of way.


"It's OK I guess. You get used to it..."


As the boy pulled the Coach's jockstrap down, Peterson’s thick 8" man log sprang up and hit the boy’s chin with a thud.


"Suck it, Timmy. There's a good boy.....show me how you can really impress your Coach..."


Timmy could not completely encompass the man’s cock with his small hand.


The lad had to stretch his mouth very wide to accommodate Peterson’s bloated cockhead.


As soon as the head slid into the lad’s mouth, Peterson knew that whether the kid enjoyed sucking a man’s cock or not, he was a fucking master at it.


"Ohhhhh, fuck...!!!" moaned the man as the 14 year old worked on his knobhead with his tongue and the walls of his cheeks.


The man put his hands behind the boy’s head and started to push his thick, 8", man meat deeper into the lad’s throat.


Looking down he watched as his fat, veiny pole slide in and out of the young lad’s obscenely stretched mouth. As the man’s slab of meat pistoned in and out of the boy’s stretched mouth, Timmy looked up at Peterson with his piercing blue eyes and that almost made the man come there and then.


6 inches deep in the lad’s mouth, Peterson felt it hitting the back of the boy’s throat and Timmy started to gag which turned the man on even more.


Peterson grabbed chunks of the boy’s blond hair and pulled Timmy’s head on to his massive log.


"Oh, yes, Timmy, that's a good boy. Take it down your lovely young throat son...that's it.....oh yeah....that feels soooo good....," moaned the man as he pulled hard on the back of the kid’s head.




Inside the interrogation room Matt had his back to the mirror and was touching his toes, or rather holding his ankles with his feet spread apart. Lomand leaned over him, levering his fingers into the lad’s most private of entrances,  grunting with the exertion. The tight anus of the bent over school boy caused Lomand to dribble with lust as he worked his fingers into the boy’s innards. 


It provided a beautiful sight for any observer in the observation room.....


Matt gasped in pain as Officer Lomand worked two of his stubby strong fingers into the fit schoolboy’s tight moist anus.


"Aaaaarghhh.....God....please...no.....it hurts so much....arraggh.....unnnghhh," wailed the boy.


The officer longed to grab the teen boy’s fat, low hanging balls and exert sublime pain on the kid. Equally, he wanted to grab the lad’s thick cock that was swinging pendulously between Matt's muscular legs and pull back the heavy foreskin and chew the fat cockhead to really make the boy scream but did not dare as his father was watching and it hardly could be justified as part of the search. He was wishing he hadn't invited Jack to witness the strip search.


Bit by bit, the man’s thick fingers sunk deeper and deeper into the hot interior of the boy’s body.


On the other side of the mirror, Jack was unable to contain himself and he ripped his flies open and hauled out his fast thickening pole of meat. He spat on his hand and then worked his fat member to its full 9 inch length. Using both hands, Jack worked his massive tool as he watched his helpless son being violated.


"Oh fuck.....yessss........Deeper....deeper...," muttered Jack, his eyes fixated on Lomands fingers which were buried in the boy’s sphincter up to the second knuckle.  He could see the fingers were coated with the boy’s ass juices and he involuntarily licked his lips.


"Noooooooooo!  Aaaarggghhhh!" screamed Matt has he felt the fingers advance into the depths of his body. He felt like he was being ripped apart.


"I......know....you've got something...up...there...," grunted Lomand.


The officer certainly knew what he was looking for as his fingers probed and poked inside the youngster’s fiery interior.


Suddenly, Lomand found it.


His greasy fingers felt the walnut sized item and started to press and poke and rub it for all he was worth.


Matt felt the world turn.  


One moment he was in blinding pain; the next, a hot wave of bladder bursting pleasure radiated outward from his innards and behind his balls.


He moaned long and deep as his brain was buffeted by the lustful feelings of pure pleasure.


"Unnnnnghh.....oh...god......please......mmmmmmmmm......," gurgled the kid as the officer continued to molest and maul the boy’s most sacred of switches.


Matt's cock swelled and started to rapidly lengthen in response to the amazingly good feelings that were washing through him.


Lomand's eyes widened as he saw the boy’s organ jerk and grow. He grunted with lust as he saw the kids full, fat cockhead slowly unpeel from the fleshy protective covering of the heavy foreskin.


The officer started to long finger fuck the moaning lad; pulling his fingers almost completely out of the kid’s anus to ram them back as deeply as possible to repeatedly hit the boy’s pleasure nut.




"Stand up boy!" husked Lomand, his fingers still third knuckle deep, massaging and poking.


The boy stood upright, his legs still spread.


"Oh my fucking God", moaned Lomand as he stared at Matt's cock.


Virtually 7 inches of thick, jerking, throbbing meat slapped up against the boy’s tight defined abs. The fat, red helmet of the boy’s equipment was fully unsheathed by the foreskin.  It was shiny and slippery from young male syrup oozing slowly from a wide juicy piss slit. Lomand was transfixed as he watch the light sweet oil start to languidly slide down the thick shaft of the boy’s meaty member.


Overwhelmed by the pleasure that flowed through his cock and balls and arse, Matt unconsciously spread his legs wider, allowing the man to really impale him.


In the observation room, Jack felt himself nearly burst with pride and lust as he gazed at his son's fine thick erection. He continued to work his meaty log.


"Oh my boy.....," whispered Jack; his eyes never leaving his son's jerking cock.


The officer pushed the boy right up against the mirror with his left arm.  He bent his legs slightly to get a better ankle and then drove forward with his fingers to deeply excavate the fiery furnace of the boy’s slippery tunnel and to truly work the boy’s heavy fucknut.


Matt’s stiff thick 7" cock was trapped between his hard abs and the mirror. The drooling pre-cum was sliming the mirror as the man worked the boy’s jerking body from behind like a glove puppet.


The kid felt bubbling tickles of incipient orgasm behind his balls as the man continued to abuse his inner pleasure organ.


"Unnnnghhhhh.....oh god.......aaaaahhhhh....mmmmm......"


The boy threw his head back, his eyes closed and gave into the churning waves of pleasure that swept through his groin and rippled out towards his hands and feet.


Jack could take no more of this. He fell to his knees, his mouth inches away from his teenaged son’s drooling, throbbing meat.  He started to lick the glass in total lust; his mind transported by the horny sight of his son being blatantly abused and molested.


"Shoot...boy...shoot...," moaned Jack as he licked the glass between his tongue and the kid’s thick jerking meat.




Peterson moaned continuously, his head thrown back, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he face fucked the blond boy, the kid’s head held in a vice grip by the man’s hands.


He felt the tight young throat constricting his thick cock; trying to eject it, yet having the effect of pushing him closer to orgasm.


"Oh yes...you lovely boy...suck my cock....take it...oh yeah....," groaned the Coach as he repeatedly rammed the helpless boy’s head back and forth onto his thick 8" man log, impaling it again and again.


Ropey drools of saliva poured from the boy’s mouth to fall on the tiled floor of the deserted locker room.


The boy’s stifled choking was virtually drowned out by the teenager’s lustful moans.


Peterson knew the time had come. With one mighty pull on the kids head, he held the boy’s face tight against his groin.  He threw his head back and screamed with pleasure as the first jet of cum shot down the boy’s convulsing throat.


The man then grabbed the boy’s hair and pulled the kids head off his pulsing log and pointed his cockhead right at the boy’s face as the second jet shot out and drenched the young lad’s face with thick white slimy man syrup.


The big Coach held the boy’s head fast as jet after jet of thick man juice spurted directly at the kids head, coating the lad’s face again and again, the thick creamy man cum flooded down Timmy's neck and chest.....




The interrogation room of the small police building resonated with the low moaning sounds of a teen lad in a state of absolute ecstasy, his naked fit body sweating and trembling on the verge of orgasm as the Police officer repeatedly impaled him with three thick fingers up to the third knuckle, rubbing and mauling and mashing the kids fuck nut.   


Matt’s throbbing, seven inch cock was drenched in sticky male syrup which burped out continuously from the sizzling juicy piss slit.


Jack Sawyer was panting and gasping; kneeling on the other side of the mirror trying in vain to lick his boy’s clear honey which dripped slowly down on the other side of the glass mirror.


He knew he was close as he worked his big throbbing tool with his hands.  He also knew his boy was close; he could tell from the lad’s swollen throbbing cockhead and the look of pure bliss on the school kid’s face.


Lomand was sweating and panting from the exertion of frigging the lad’s fuck nut.  He angled his arm to give maximum leverage and power as he drove his fingers to the deepest part of the kids guts.


Matt lost it. 


"Oh God..........!!!!!!!   Unnnnnnnggggghhhhh!" wailed the boy.


Jack moaned loudly with lustful pleasure and anticipation as he saw Matt’s jerking cockhead swell even further before jet after jet of thick, creamy boy sauce geysered up out of the lad’s wide, bubbling piss slit and fountained upward between the cold glass and the boy’s defined pecs and abs. The glass steamed up where the hot cum splashed.  


Again and again, teen spunk spurted upward from the lad’s jerking pumping cock.


Lomand almost winced in pain as the boy’s powerful rectal muscles clamped down convulsively on his fingers.


"Unnnnggggghhhh, uuuunnnnggghh...," moaned the teen boy in complete ecstasy as the officer’s rubbing, squeezing fingers continued to send signals to his juicy balls to pump out their payload of creamy ambrosia.


It triggered Jack off and, with a guttural moan, he shot thick ropey jets of cum up the glass to match his son’s spewing cock.


He kept licking the glass instinctively as he tried to taste, and swallow, his lad’s spurting juices....




That evening, as Jack Sawyer waited for his son to come home, he thought back on events.  He was more than happy to pay money for a copy of the tape that Lomand made of the interview.  


He slipped the tape into a player and listened....


Chapter 6

It was late when the 16 year old lad walked down the street to his house.


Matt was very tired. His anus, balls and gut ached terribly from the experience in the prison cell. His confused mind still couldn't understand why he had been stopped on his way back from the church. He couldn't fathom what the officer was looking for and, most of all; he was very troubled that he experienced so much pleasure from what the Officer did. He kept sniffing back welling tears of shame as he remembered shooting his uncontrolled pleasure all up the floor to ceiling mirror.


He clung desperately to the advice he received from Father Bryce.  He remembered asking Father Bryce if it was wrong to feel the immense pleasure that radiated out from his anus when the priest worked the thick candle in and out of his tight young chute. Father Bryce had told him the pleasure was God’s touch and that there was nothing to worry about if a man who touched him was doing so as part of simply doing his job (and of course, Bryce would use himself as the example- to remove the taint from the English teacher who had wantonly abused the lad in a way which had nothing to do with teaching English).  


The lad started to relax when he remembered that this must apply to a doctor examining his body, or a Coach showing him how to train his body, or even a Police Officer who had to conduct a search....


Yes....the handsome athletic lad breathed more easily as he realised Father Bryce's advice was clearly sound.


He slid his key into the front door of his house and fervently hoped his Dad would be asleep by now.


Tiptoeing through, he made it half way up the stairs when he almost jumped out of his skin when he father spoke to him from out of the darkness!


"Hey, son, why so late? I was waiting up for you."


Jack caught the momentary look of dread cross his son’s eyes and the struggle his son made as he tried to mask the terrible shame of being stopped and searched by the police. He also knew his son would never lie to him and he knew that part of the dread would be to have to tell his father everything if asked. He saw the lad’s eyes turn bright with tears that threatened to rise up in his dark eyes.


The big teenager’s heart trembled at the sight of his distressed son.  Whilst his lust for the boy burned as brightly, his father’s heart was rent asunder and in a split second, his mind flew over all that he felt when he listened to the tape recording of the boy’s sobbing confessions.


Jack recalled how proud he felt of his son for being honest with the Police even though it broke the lad’s heart to confess his shame. But above all, he felt his love for his son bursting through when he heard the lad begging Lomand not to tell his father about what had happened. Most boy’s would run to their parents if they had suffered a fraction of what Matt suffered but his boy wanted to protect his Father from the anguish and embarrassment of his son being arrested.


He decided what he was going to do.


"Never mind son, I'm sorry to pry; I didn't mean to.  You go off to bed now and I just wanted to say..........I love you very much."


Matt looked in awe of his Dad as though he couldn't quite take it all in and then, his handsome face slowly broke into a most glorious smile that lengthened Jack’s thick cock in double quick time.


"Gee, I love you too, Dad," murmured Matt, almost shyly.


Matt was overcome and could no longer look directly at his Dad whom he worshipped. He cast around for somewhere else to look when his eyes lighted on the glass of liquid that Jack had been generating over the course of his lust driven musings.


"What's that Dad?" asked Matt, hoping to deflect the heat and intensity of the emotional moment.


Jack almost forgot about it.  He reached for the glass full of cum and held it out for the lad.


"Here Matt- drink this up. It's a protein drink. I’ve made it and have been saving it for you all day. It’s good for your muscle building".


The man felt his cock swell and throb in his shorts as he watched Matt obediently take the glass and swallow the contents in four large gulps. Matt handed the glass back while licking his young lips.


"Did you like that Matt?"


"Sure Dad- if it's good for my muscles then that's great isn't it?"


The boy’s open trusting eyes made Jack's love and lust burst brightly within him and he wanted to rip the lad’s clothes off there and then and fuck him hard and deep.


In his mind, he imagined himself catching Matt halfway up the stairs, ripping his jeans and jock off and greasing him up and.....



........Jack jerked himself back to the moment. All in good time, he told himself...


"Sure is son; that's all that matters. And there's plenty more where that came from. You go get some sleep now; school tomorrow, buddy."


"Night, Dad!"


Matt continued up the stairs to his bedroom, his mind amid the clouds. Despite the terrible things that had happened to him during the day, Matt decided it was the best day he could ever remember in his young life.


As Matt continued up the stairs, Jack looked at Matt’s tight butt and groaned silently to himself knowing that he wore no jock underneath the thin tight denim. He had an idea how he could next get to taste the deep spicy valley that lay between the lad's firm young cheeks and gulp more of the fresh sweet cream that bubbled in his lad’s full balls. 


Before he went to bed, he rang Peterson and asked him not to let on to Matt that they both knew that he'd been arrested. Jack smiled and pawed his bulging crotch as he began telling Peterson of the boy’s strip search.


Peterson listened on the other end of the phone, his thick meaty cock swelling and jerking in his sweats as Jack described how the young fit lad was molested and abused by the cop. He couldn’t help letting out a moan of lust as Jack described how the officer had his way with the young defenseless lad.  


Both men moaned and panted into the phones whilst upstairs, in his bedroom, Matt slipped reluctantly into troubled sleep, his mind filled with unspoken yearnings and lusts which threw the lad’s mind into further confusion.




Young Timmy’s homecoming contrasted to that of Matt’s.  


His brutish stepfather was livid that his son was not at home to make his supper.  


The fact that his stepfather was drunk did not help matters.  


Sadly, for Timmy, the man had noted the sticky dampness in the lad’s groin and had smelt the familiar smell of the boy’s cum.  This was double reason for punishment. The teenager’s stiff cock had leaked in anticipation of what he was going to do to punish the boy for not being home to make him his tea and apparently cumming without his permission.


Timmy had lain on the floor where the man had pushed him, shuddering and moaning as the man had roughly pulled the kids hips up and yanked down the boy’s jeans and jockstrap and then manipulated his young cock and balls and reamed his exposed quivering chute entrance; forcing his strong muscular tongue into the lad’s tight trembling sphincter and making the lad give up the last of his cum from his straining balls.  


Timmy had known what was going to happen next and tears welled up in his eyes but it was nothing really new. He had been treated worse in the past and it was part of his life ever since his real father had passed away when he was six.


The man had balled up the lad’s damp stained jockstrap and worked it into the kid’s mouth to smother the screams that would shortly follow. Young Timmy had closed his eyes tightly and held the image of Coach Peterson in his mind and wished for the umpteenth time that the Coach was his Dad.  


Timmy desperately needed a Hero.


The man had pushed Timmy’s balls up from between the kids legs and raised the spoon with the other hand and momentarily paused, savouring the moment of anticipation before the spoon commenced its downward direction.  

As the back of the spoon had thudded against Timmy’s exposed balls, the first of many muffled high pitched screams came from the jerking lad beneath him. The man was experienced enough to know how to angle to spoon to elicit the highest screams of pain.


The man closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure at the sounds coming from his boy.


For him, this was far better than sex.....






"Hey son, you're early. You've got another hour before needing to go off".


"Yeah, Dad, I couldn't sleep after.....you know....," said the lad, blushing slightly.


Jack slowly appraised his handsome son; noting how smart he looked in the white school shirt with red and blue tie. More particularly, he liked the way the tight black school trousers hugged his boy’s crotch lovingly, emphasizing that his child was definitely all male....


"Well then son, you know the rules; just your jockstrap on whilst in the house. OK?"


Matt couldn't pretend he wasn't told.


"Yes Sir." said the lad, wearing a resigned look on his face.


As he turned to go up the stairs to his bedroom, his father stopped him.


"It's alright, son. Strip here.”


As the fit boy slowly undressed, the man simply looked at him, admiring the show.  


Jack never tired of seeing his lad unclothed.  He always admired the 16 year old's broad shoulders, defined chest and emerging 6 pack and felt very proud at how his son followed his passion for weight training.


The boy stood almost naked in front of the man, feeling a bit self conscious.


The young athletic teenager stood before the big man, a perfect model of vitality and good looks. The smoothness of the boy’s skin, together with his fine male musculature and white flashing teeth sent daggers of lust deep into the man’s churning balls.


"Oh yes, Matt....; that's much, much better.  You're doing well...," said Jack, as he slowly appraised the boy’s finely muscled torso.  


“Your thigh muscles are coming on well,” said the man as an excuse to surreptitiously feast his eyes on the teenager’s full, bulging jockstrap pouch and he cleared his voice to subdue his rising lust.


Despite feeling slightly awkward standing in front of his Dad almost naked, Matt beamed with the praise and tensed his abs and puffed his chest to further impress his Dad whom he loved beyond words.


"Yes, son, you're making great progress," muttered Jack as he unconsciously licked his lips and reluctantly tore his eyes away to look up at his boy’s happy, handsome face.


"Oh, by the way, Coach Peterson rang. He wanted to know if you could drop by his place for a workout session this evening. Seems you’re his favorite pupil since he mentioned a new workout routine he wants you to start on...."


Matt was immediately interested.


"Wow! Which muscle group does it exercise, Dad?"


"Don’t know son, but the Coach says it’s very special and works muscles that are difficult to get to. Whatever it is, you make sure you do everything Coach tells you, and I mean EVERYTHING. OK?”


“Yes, Sir,” grinned Matt. He felt a warm glow that the Coach should lavish such attention on him. It also meant that he got to develop his body more so that would hopefully make his Father even more proud of him.


He very much looked forward to the evening...




Monday afternoon was the favorite time of the week for Coach Peterson.  It was filled with gym and swimming lessons for the 14 year and 16 year old lads. Peterson was particularly looking forward to seeing Matt at the swimming classes later on.


In the meantime, it was an opportunity for him to further his vocational drive to help the lads understand and train their bodies to achieve the desired results.


Even now, in his office, he was explaining to young Timmy the techniques to control his body.


The blond, bare-chested lad was standing with his back against the wall, his hands on the top of his head whilst the big man was just in front of him explaining the correct techniques.


The boy was panting from his exertions and his young lean athletic torso was perspiring; beads of sweat were trickling down his tight smooth stomach.


His open innocent face was desperate to take on the Coach's advice.


"Now Timmy, you first need to take deep breaths to avoid all the panting..."


"Y...yyy...yessir...," gulped the boy.


"That's it lad. No…don’t take your hands away from the top of your head. That’s it… Now whatever your body is feeling, you must separate your mind from it...."


"Ooh...uunngh......urgh...," gurgled the lad as he desperately tried to obey the man’s advice.


"Yes...lad, you're doing well. Now look at me. That may help you control yourself..."


As Timmy's open blue eyes started to glaze over and flutter upwards, the man could see that the boy was close to losing control.


"Keep going boy, you've nearly broken your record....."


The lad squirmed and moaned as he desperately tried following the man’s advice.


With a mighty effort, the sweating, moaning lad redoubled his efforts and held out.  


The man also redoubled his efforts and slid his left hand down the back of the lad’s shorts and over the lad’s tight firm buns where he pushed his thick third finger up between the lad’s quivering buttocks and plunged it deep into the boy’s tight, hot sweating anus to work the young lad’s roiling fuck nut.  His right hand continued to work inside the front of Timmy’s tight gym shorts, gripping, squeezing and massaging the 14 year old's thick, throbbing teen meat through the teenager’s drooling sticky jockstrap pouch.


The boy’s eyes widened and he gasped loudly as the Coach's thick finger impaled him.


“Aaarrrghhhh.....Unnnghh….aaarghh…uuurgghhh..”, groaned the cute blond boy.


The stretched jock pouch mesh rubbed hard against the boy’s swollen cockhead, causing tremendous waves of singing pleasure to cascade through his throbbing oozing teen cock making it impossible for Timmy not close his eyes and loudly moan his pleasure.


Timmy was overwhelmed by the torrent of pure pleasure that burst upwards from between his legs and deep in his anus.


The young lad’s blue eyes glazed over and the boy’s panting became rapid.


“Uuuurgghh....aaarrrggghhhh...noooo....aaaaah....,” moaned the kid as his lower regions were mercilessly worked.


The big man’s thick, probing finger proved too much for the boy and, wailing his loss of control, the lad’s hips started jerking uncontrollably as he spurted again and again into his jock and the big man’s massaging hand.


The man licked his lips as his thick, probing, pushing finger was clutched tightly by the youngster’s fiery velvet tunnel in spasmodic bursts as the boy orgasmed mightily.


“Yes….enjoy the fruits of your labor my boy…,” breathed the man as he felt the large drooling pouch pulse in his squeezing hand and fountains of hot sticky young cream spurt against his pumping palm. Cum trickled down the lad’s legs and soaked into the boy’s socks as the Coach’s right hand continued to work inside the front of the boy’s shorts.


"Unnghh...unngghh...," gurgled the schoolboy as he leaned against the wall, his eyes tightly closed and his hands still on the top of his head as both the teenager’s hands continued to work the kids lower regions...


The man continued to squeeze, work and rub the lad’s drenched bulging jockstrap pouch for 3 long minutes whilst repeatedly impaling the boy’s tight quivering anus with his thick finger which was slippery with the young lad’s ass juices.


"Unnnnggghhh...please..s.sir..nooo....unnnghh," moaned the quivering boy, as the continued rubbing of the big man’s calloused hand and the jockstrap mesh kept the boy on a quivering high.


Eventually, Peterson was satisfied that the boy had given him all he could and withdrew his hands and gazed at the sweating, panting lad leaning against the wall; the bulging front of his shorts badly stained and soiled.


"Well done Timmy. You lasted longer than last time."




After Matt left for school, Jack Sawyer poured himself a beer and played back the tape recording of his son’s interview.


As he listened again to the sobbing confessions of his boy about how his English Teacher molested him and how he allowed himself to enjoy it caused Jack to start rubbing his full crotch.


Then, as he heard the lad explain what happened and how Father Bryce had to save his soul he couldn’t help unzipping his flies and hauling out his thick throbbing meat and start stroking his huge thickening member.


As the sounds of his son’s moaning filled the room, Jack closed his eyes and replayed the scene in the interrogation room of his fit naked boy, pressed against the two way wall mirror whilst the perverted fat cop molested and abused the helpless lad. Jack’s mighty cock drooled as he recalled the officers fat fingers thrusting and forcing their way up into the kid’s tight young anus causing the boy to scream in pain at first......and then how the schoolboy’s thick cock jerked and swelled mightily in response to the rough stimulation of his young fuck nut by the cop’s fat fingers as they pushed and probed deep within the lad’s innards.


“Oh yeah....oh yeah......,” moaned the man as he wanked off to the sounds of his boy being hurt and pleasured by the cop in equal measure.


As Matt’s mounting scream of ecstasy filled the room, Jack came; grunting loudly, shooting his thick ropey cum all over the sofa....


After the man recovered, he got up and went to the bathroom.  


Looking up at the large hook he had fixed into the ceiling, he reached up and lifted himself up and down several times.  The hook was firmly anchored. Jack grunted with satisfaction. If it takes his weight, it would easily take that of a 16 year old boy; even if the boy was swinging around.....


Remembering the names of the men his son had divulged in the interrogation room, he looked up the numbers in the directory and reached for the phone....






Monday afternoon in the sleepy quiet town of Briers Cross was proving just a little too quiet for Father Bryce as he pottered about the church ensuring everything was tidied up from the previous Sunday’s sermon.


As he swept the floor, his mind kept going back to the marvellous encounter he had with that stunning boy Matt Sawyer who had turned to him in desperation seeking salvation.  


He unconsciously licked his lips as he recalled how he thoroughly tasted the boy as part of the salvation process. His mouth watered as he almost relished again the savoury, sweet juices that had coated the candle that he had used so vigorously....


The telephone rang in his office and, with a sigh, Bryce brought himself back to the present and answered the phone.


“Yes, hello; this is Father Bryce...”


As he listened, his eyes grew wider and he started nodding; a lascivious smiling slowing cracking his face whilst his cock started to fatten and lengthen under his habit.


He slowly replaced the receiver, his cock twitching at the thought of next Friday evening...


Over the course of the morning, Matt’s English teacher, Mr. Johnson, Officer Lomand and, of course, Coach Peterson, also looked forward to Friday....




Jones, the local chemist was busy taking stock in his small pharmacy.


Monday morning was typically quiet for him and he enjoyed the quiet time to get his stock in place.


He heard the door chime jingle and, standing up, he saw the big man enter.


A smile broke out on his face.


“Morning, Jack!  Haven't seen you for a while. How are things?”


“Fine Dave, fine thanks. How’s the missus?”


“Oh just dandy thanks Jack....so...what can I do for you. Haven’t got a cold have you? I can recommend some throat pastilles that are particularly good.....”


“Nah- nothin like that Dave. Actually, I’m looking for something to help me sleep. I heard that Rohypnol is very good...?”


“Sure thing, Jack as it’s you, but remember, this is pretty powerful stuff. Don’t mix it with alcohol; It can make you confused and plays merry hell with your memory...”


Jack smiled broadly.


“That’s just fine by me Dave.”




Coach Peterson walked into the boy’s locker room, his eyes taking in the heavenly sight of young lad’s as they changed out of their school clothes and into their tight, lycra swimming trunks.


Peterson always demanded that the boy’s wear Speedos rather than shorts as they were more streamlined and allowed the boys to move with greater speed through the water. The fact that the sheer tight fitting costumes also very much enhanced the male outlines of the youngsters was, of course, an added bonus...


The man’s eyes scanned over the boys until he saw what he wanted.


He paused, savouring the sight of Matt Sawyer as he was changing into his Speedos.


Although the boy’s back was to him, Peterson still very much, enjoyed the spectacle of the lad’s young broad shoulders and narrow waist.


“Jesus,” he muttered to himself, as he watched the lad bend down to pull his Speedos up and over his tight bubble buttocks.


The man nodded approvingly as the very tight, thin fabric moulded to the young lad’s rear.


“Sawyer, in my office now, please.”


The hunky 16 year old looked over to the Coach.


“Sure thing Coach,” smiled Matt.


Peterson sighed as he appraised the youngster. As always, the boy’s glorious smile and white teeth as they shone out from behind perfect lips caused the Coach’s cock to throb with need.


Not for the first time, the man imagined the boy’s lips wrapped around something thick and meaty...


Coach Peterson feigned indifference as the almost naked lad walked slightly hesitantly into his office.


“Er, hi Coach; what was it you wanted to speak to me about, Sir?”


The handsome boy’s face was a cock swelling image of masculinity, boyishness and total innocence and enthusiasm.  His bright dark eyes spoke of eagerness and unspoken need...


The lad’s toned body was totally smooth and tanned by the summer’s sun. Firm brown nipples crowned a broad, well defined chest and the gently rippled torso of the boy spoke of great flexibility and good diet. It narrowed to a 26 inch waist which drew the eager man’s eyes to that place where the young lean torso ended and the sturdy well muscled thighs began.


It was also that place that was barely covered by the thin, almost translucent Speedos that the Coach found very difficult to avoid feasting his hungry eyes upon.


The large bulge where the sheer fabric moulded itself to the boy’s anatomy, promised much...


The man cleared his throat and huskily reminded Matt that he looked forward to showing him some special muscle training techniques in the evening.


Matt felt his heart leap with enthusiasm and happiness.


He very much admired and respected Coach Peterson and felt very honoured to have the Coach take out his own time to train him on extra muscle building techniques.


“Sure thing Coach; I’m really looking forward to it,” grinned the boy.


“So am I, my boy, so am I,” smiled the Coach, his eyes again travelling up and down the 16 year old boy’s smooth muscled smooth torso.


“Oh yes, and come lightly dressed. It’ll be a heavy workout so you’ll get quite a sweat up,” added the man.  


“You only need a tank top and jock and shorts when you come round, OK?;  In fact, come to think of it, as it’s a hot summer evening this evening, ditch the top as you’ll be too hot by the time you get to my place...,” added the man.


“Sure Coach- no probs,” agreed Matt, his mind already excited on the thought of working out with Coach Peterson.


“So which muscles will this training technique focus on?”


“These are muscles which are inside your body and provide critical anchorage to your core set of muscles such as your abs.”


Peterson held his breath for a moment to gauge the boy’s reaction.


Matt had no idea what the man was talking about but was perfectly happy to accept what Peterson was saying as he trusted the Coach implicitly.


“OK Coach; whatever you say I need to do.”


“That’s my man,” said Peterson as he felt his heavy cock swell at the very thought of the boy obeying his every command.




Timmy was almost finished dressing as the class above him was getting ready for their swimming lesson.


At the Coach’s call to one of the boy’s, Timmy noticed Matt for the first time and immediately admired the older boy’s physique and slight unconscious swagger. The young lad sighed and wished he had ‘that look’ that would command respect.


He noticed the way the Coach seemed to slowly look Matt up and down. Clearly the Coach respected Matt’s build and wished fervently that Peterson would be equally respectful of his own.


He resolved to talk to the older boy if he got the opportunity and see if he could get some hints on how to develop his body to look like the older boy.


Back at Timmy’s home, his stepfather still seethed over the way his boy had flagrantly and willfully disobeyed him.  


His anger mounted as he recalled noticing the damp area at the front of the boy’s jeans and how he had to rip the kids jeans down to find the young lad was wearing a cum sodden jockstrap.


Although punishing the boy using his usual method (how he loved using that large metal spoon...), he was looking forward to using the boy in more inventive ways and the more he thought about it, the more he reasoned that he shouldn’t be the only one to enjoy the cute kids assets. And why not make some good money whilst he’s at it, he mused....


He looked back at his secret stash of underground magazines, recalling an ad he has seen recently.  Ah yes....there it was:


“Older man wants young lad for fun.  Negotiable terms”.


He picked up the phone and dialled...


Monday Evening


Matt had jogged all the way to Peterson's house.  He liked to jog and do anything that would build his muscles up and reduce any fat.


He was glad he took the Coach's advice and came topless as he was perspiring quite hard and his young smooth torso was covered in a sheen of sweat which was soaking into the band of his jockstrap that just appeared over the low slung top of his light, tight running shorts.


The young lad beamed up at the big man who opened the door.


Peterson smiled a huge smile of welcome; his eyes gleamed in the evening light as he appraised the schoolboy in front of him.


The man couldn’t help feeling his thick cock swelling as he glanced over the young lad’s fit body. Matt’s perfectly smooth toned chest and gently rippled torso sent needles of lust straight to the man’s groin as did the sight of the young lad’s full bulge straining at the front of the kid’s tight shorts. The thought of what he would be soon doing to the boy made his shorts feel even tighter.


“Hi there Matt; it’s great to see you - you’re looking fantastic; come on in…”


The lad visibly puffed up with pride at the Coach’s rare compliment and happily stepped over the threshold…




They were standing in the basement of the house and the boy was listening raptly to the explanation that the man was giving him.


In order to make the boy feel at ease, Peterson had also shucked off his top and, like the boy before him, only wore a pair of worn tight fitting workout shorts.  


Matt felt strangely thrilled as he felt the man’s eyes roam over his chest and down his body. He put it down to pride that the Coach was admiring the hard work that he was putting into his workouts.


As the man surreptitiously admired the boy’s body, Matt equally couldn’t help being in awe at the huge build of the Coach. The lad’s eyes were drawn to the brawny muscles of the big man and boy’s eyes couldn’t help looking admiringly over the instructing teenager’s chest. Matt involuntarily glanced at the large bulge at the front of his Coach’s shorts and his eyes widened at the fat length that was trapped behind the stretched cotton. He felt a flush spreading through his cheeks and quickly returned his gaze to the man’s face, nodding his agreement to whatever the man was saying.


“I imagine your Dad is very proud of your body son and wants to support you in any way possible?”


Matt felt waves of pride and happiness.


“Yes Coach- my Dad is the best guy on earth,” beamed the boy, his heart thumping.


Peterson kept to the script he had agreed with Jack.


“Now this new exercise method needs ongoing support from your Dad and it’s important for him to do what’s necessary to make a success of the new routine, OK?”


“Absolutely, Sir”.


And Matt meant it. He worshipped the ground his Dad walked on and would do whatever he was told. He also felt that way about Peterson.


As the big man started to explain how there were muscles deep within the abdomen that needed to be stretched and challenged, the boy nodded without too much comprehension.


His complete faith in the Coach was enough for him and found himself least nodding enthusiastically as the man explained that he would need to at remove his shorts in order for the exercise to begin.


“Now let me show you the exercise equipment you would be using,” said Peterson as he led the boy to the back of the basement where the ancient instrument of torture and pleasure sat.


As the man explained how the machine worked, the boy swallowed noisily and he started to perspire.  


Matt stood in a daze as he realised he had committed himself to this strange and terrifying new exercise regime.  And yet....his fierce love for his Father and his devotion to his Coach meant he couldn’t back out. He couldn’t disappoint them.


And so the lad stood staring at the machine in dumbstruck uncertainty and resignation and didn’t notice the man switch on a hidden video recorder.


“I need to prepare the machine first”, said the man as he reached for a large tub of Vaseline and started to unscrew the top as he looked at the built teenager; his mouth starting to water up as he imagined what would be shortly happening in the room...


The man wrapped his Vaseline laden hand around the metal member and slowly slid his hand up and down; almost lovingly; his tongue tentatively licking his lips.


The boy’s eyes widened as the man stroked his hand up and down the fat 12 inch phallus shaped pole of metal that would soon be exercising his internal muscles....


“Now Matt, I also need to prepare you for the exercise so shuck your shorts...,” said Peterson, watching the boy closely.


The lad’s cheeks burned with awkwardness as the youngster started to realise what the man might be wanting to do with the next large glob of Vaseline that was being scooped out of the container.




Peterson, his eyes gleaming as he appraised the boy, concealed his hunger and amusement.


“Hey, Matt, we’re both guys here. Nothing to be awkward about is there?”


“Er...Sure...I guess not, Sir..,” managed the lad as he desperately remembered that the Coach was trying to help him so everything was alright and normal as the priest, Father Bryce had assured him.


A little uncertainly, the boy slowly pulled the waistband of his tight fitting shorts down, whilst the man looked on, his mouth watering….




Early evening light shone through the windows of Timmy’s home where the doorbell rang.


The boy’s father opened the door expectantly and appraised the big rough looking man in front of him. The man’s black beard and piggy, glinty eyes spoke of cruelty and greed as did his very large stomach which preceded his body by nearly a foot.


“You answered my advert - you said you had something to offer me?” The stranger grunted.


“Have you got the money as agreed?”


The big bearded man thrust a roll of money at Timmy’s father who took it with a nod.


“You’re about to be a long lost uncle to my 14 year old lad, OK?  And, remember, no marks where they can show. Apart from that, you can do what the fuck you want. Agreed?”


The fat man grunted his agreement, his eyes glinting with anticipation.


“Just follow my cue”, said the father, his own breathing becoming heavy with lustful imaginings of what the man would do to the boy.


Timmy was in his bedroom when his father walked in.


“Hey buddy, I’ve got a surprise for you. You haven’t met him but a distant uncle of yours has come to visit you.”




The End


To be continued....


Please let me know your thoughts and if you liked the story!   Thanks.  Wes :-)







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