Glaucon55

Punk Kids or Brent's Big Boner

Chapters 9-11

Chapter 9
The First Surrender

Johnny sat back in the rolling office chair that went with his computer desk.

Brent looked hard at Johnny, and wanted to say something… but the punk had made the rules clear, any resistance would result in disaster for him. So without saying a word, he slowly unbuttoned his practice jersey shirt, and pulled it off his shoulders. He looked around for a place to put it, but Johnny told him to drop it, so he did.

"Now put your hands behind your head, and lock them there until I tell you otherwise, and spread your legs about two feet [60 cm] apart."

Brent looked hard, and coldly at Johnny, but did as he was told, looking away from the younger boy so he would not make eye contact with his thirteen year old captor. Then he spoke, "now what about the automatic e-mail dude?"

Johnny indicated that he had taken care of it, but little did Brent know it was a bluff from the beginning. He would have had to activate the mail utility manually, but what Brent did not know helped Johnny close his trap.

Johnny got up from the swivel chair and walked up to Brent and with a trembling hand. He reached out with the index finger of his right hand to touch the dream he had been lusting for. Brent's pale dark-Irish skin contrasted to his dark hair, made him look so delicious. The finger made contact with Brent's firm abdomen, and as both boys watched with rapt attention, it trailed up the sculpted muscles, then around them. Brent winced slightly, breaking out in goose bumps from the sensation of the boy's finger trailing over his muscled form, but he also trembled from the ticklish touch which sent a sexual jolt through him. He could feel his cock beginning to unwind in his uniform pants, and under his jock strap. 'Fuck,' he thought, 'he couldn't throw a bone in front of this creep kid; that would just make it seem like he liked what was happening.' And yet his cock was betraying him, stretching so quickly, forcing itself outside of his practice strap without his cup, and grazing against the thick hair on his thighs. Maybe if this is all the kid wanted, he could get out before things got out of hand, or Johnny caught on to Brent's predicament.

Then Johnny's finger trailed down to the deep well of Brent's inny navel, thickly forested with curly black hair. His fingernail rooted into the hole, then found the soft mound deep inside and scratched gently across it, making Brent hunch from the ticklish sensation.

"Shit," Brent had pulled lint out of his navel, but he'd never thought to scratch inside… it felt weird, and it felt good, and it just made his now rigid prong begin to leak clear sap onto his thigh… "fuck!"

Johnny smiled broadly, this was going to be great. Now his finger moved more boldly, searching and deliberately tickling in the big boy's navel. Then he used his other index finger, to trace its way up to the firm curve of Brent's right pectoral, finding the coned nipple thrusting out of the edge, already hard in anticipation. Johnny's finger rubbed over the rubbery, mounded teat, and then he deftly grasped the rigid tit with his index finger and thumb, gently twisting it, then rolling it in his small hand.

Brent grunted from the sensation… "uuuuuggggggghhhhhh," closing his eyes and swaying gently, the wicked pleasure sending a jolt directly to his already erect prick, making it flex and more drops of clear pre-sap leak from the wide piss lips. Brent was furious at himself, but his finely tuned body worked like a well oiled sexual machine, turning to its primitive desire for release and pleasure at a moment's notice.

Johnny was elated, he reached up with his other hand, leaving Brent's navel investigation behind for the moment, to grasp the other nipple. Wetting his fingers with some spit, and greasing the other nipple with it, he worked them both making Brent squeeze his eyes tightly shut as if he could stop the electric sensation of his nips being plied and rolled.

Brent was helpless, and unconsciously leaned backward almost stumbling, and found he had to prop himself up against the desk to endure the amazing sensations on his tits, the feelings over-powering his senses. He tried to evade the wicked work against the erectile flesh on his tit nubs, but he couldn't resist the sweet sensation and as quickly as he bent over backwards, he thrust his chest up and allowed the younger boy's fingers to pry and twist his teats like some cheap date in the back row of the drive-in. Brent's penis was now fully erect and thrusting out from his jock strap, strangling and bent in his uniform from its natural up-curve, and leaking profusely each time Johnny's educated fingers tweaked his whorish tits. He might only be fourteen, but Brent was boner punk, a dick-brained teenager who wanted nothing more than to be brought to ejaculation as often as possible. With his tits being being mauled, and his cock out of control, Brent was sinking into sexual heat, forgetting his love for Amy and his vow to control his cock lust.

Johnny could read the horny submission on Brent's face, watching as the older boy licked his lips unconsciously, and he couldn't resist… "Dude, you got queer tits… they love to be pinched and pulled, huh… feels good doesn't it… yeah, dude, you got it bad… you really dig having me work these babies… oooohhhhh yeah… shit, their hard as rocks. So tell me dude, you leaking like a sieve in your strap… you like some pussy, wet and sticky. You need some relief Brent, huh, dude… tell me…" and as he spoke the salacious words and talked dirty to Brent, he tugged and scratched his fingernails over the older boys hungry nipples, making him groan and push out his chest, aching for more.

Brent's eyes were squeezed shut and he was gasping lightly from the buzzing sensation in his head and the drooling hardness in his cock caused by Johnny's lubricated fingers scrabbling over the jock stud's needy titties. Brent was hoping against hope that he could resist the feelings that made him turn his body over to anyone who could pleasure his remarkable boy prick.

As he continued to play with Brent's tits, Johnny gave him more instructions. "Undo your pants, and lower them to your feet while yer standing there."

With his eyes remaining closed, Brent robotically followed Johnny's orders, pushing the uniform pants down to his ankles. Brent was now standing in his stockings, his leggings and his jock. The strap protruded obscenely because of his erection, the wicked curve of his long slender shaft forcing the material of the pouch outward and exposing the dark hairs around his cock root as well as the fat balls that were full of teenage spunk.

Johnny stopped the tit play to get his chair, and rolled it up in front of the teen hunk, and sat down again. He couldn't resist, and lowered his nose to the still damp jock strap pouch and inhaled deeply. His nostrils were filled with the pungent starch and bleach of male testicles and boy ball sweat. Jesus, Johnny loved that scent, and he allowed his nose to slip into the side of the bulging strap where Brent's big balls and cock were exposed so that he could rub it up and down as he continued to inhale the teenage boy funk.

For his part, Brent was startled, but couldn't resist the face of the younger boy, thrusting his hips slightly forward so his nuts and cock root would rub against the soft skin, causing his dick to throb.

Johnny pulled his head back and leaned back in the chair then used both hands to grasp the elastic waistband of Brent's strap and lowered it until it rested underneath the fat duck egg sized balls. Brent's huge erection swung out and up, heavy in the shaft leaning down but curved decisively upwards with the fat plum of the knob already sticky and wet with the clear pre-sap, droplets falling as it swung. Brent's shaft was a boy's dream cum true. The shaft was turgid and thick, yet slender. It jutted from above his testicles narrow at the base, but flaring until it reached the wide, fat helmet of his prick knob. There the bulging glans, with its deep pisswell, flared obscenely, exposing a wide flange or corona studded with sensitive bumps. The veins were not overly present along the pale shaft, but the thick root traveled along the bottom of the shaft disappearing into the ball sack, and the ruddy knob was now wet and sticky with copious clear juice flowing from the piss lips. Already 6 inches [15 cm] in length, Brent's boner was the promise of what would come as the boy's body matured, and his sexual equipment grew with him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Johnny returned one hand to Brent's erect and pointed nipples, and the other grasped the huge boner just as Father Richardson had, underneath the corona. Tweaking the tits, and gently twisting them, Johnny used his other palm to gather the copious boy leak from the knob and piss well of Brent's prick. He employed the same masturbation form that worked so well on Darren's fat knobbed wiener. Forming a kind of claw or spider with his fingers, Johnny grasped the bloated tip of Brent's dripping cock, and let the pads of the fingers roam round the fevered glans, twisting and scratching lightly. The bigger boy gasped from the ticklish sensation, then lost control, bending and hunching to evade the incredible sensations from Johnny's maddening fingertips. But Johnny ordered him to straighten up and lean backwards again against the desk. The helpless Brent surrendered to the incredible sensations coursing over and around his fat cock tip, and Johnny relentlessly toyed with the throbbing organ, until the grunting Brent could feel the tightening in his balls. Johnny was ready to ejaculate in his own shorts, giddy with the opportunity to control and play with the bigger boy, to hold and masturbate his big boy bone, and to make him into a whimpering punk allowing his most precious possession to be touched by another kid.

Brent's breathing got deeper, and it was speeding up, his toes in the dirty practice socks curled as the sensation caused him to clench his ass cheeks… he was close, so close, now thrusting his hips to the twisting, squeezing, rubbing finger tips working his bloated glans. His knees began to tremble and shake, and he buckled his knees slightly as the build-up to his ejaculation began.

But Johnny had different plans. His removed both hands, and left Brent's rigid cock bobbing and pulsing, and the big boy gasping. "Nice try Brent, but not so fast… we've got lots of time, and I want to try some other games with you. First I want you to take off your jock, your socks and leggings, then get up on my bed on your hands and knees."

Brent looked at Johnny coldly, but making a deep sigh, he stripped, then climbed up on the bed, and got on his hands and knees. Somewhere in his confuse mind he now wanted Johnny to continue and to relieve the throbbing ache in his balls.

"Now put your head down on the bed, and leave your ass up in the air."

Brent did as he was told. Johnny took the damp socks from the floor and forced them into Brent's own mouth. His own slightly stinky socks were now jammed between his lips, making them into a gag.

Johnny then wheeled his chair over to the side of the bed, and in his lap was a shoe box. He placed it on the bed, and opened it. It was filled with all kinds of toys that Johnny had collected to use on Darren. But he also had some additional devices that he was going to use for the first time. Brent's eyes widened as he saw the wicked devices that Johnny had conjured up for his penance.

The first thing he did was to take Brent's wrists, and using some novelty handcuffs he had purchased when his family went to the county fair earlier in the summer, secured them behind Brent's back. Next he took an old broom handle that had two velcro cuffs that Johnny had nailed and glued about three and a half feet [1 m] apart on the pole. He attached the velcro cuffs around each of Brent's strong, hairy ankles, forcing his legs apart and preventing him from moving them together. Leaving Brent's head down on the bed, he assisted Brent in getting to his knees so that his ass was sticking up, his weight resting on his knees, and his feet were spread. Next he took some rope and fastened it between Brent's wrists and each ankle cuff. That way, Brent was forced to remain on his knees, and secure into the position.

As he finished securing the boy's ankles he looked at the size ten [eur 42] feet with their high arches, wide balls, and long, thick toes developed from years of competitive exercise. He dragged his finger down the soft exposed soles, and helpless to move, Brent shuddered and yelled for Johnny to stop, almost tipping himself over from his gyrations to avoid the tickling finger. But Johnny ignored Brent's pleas, and scrabbled his fingers over the big boy's pale, vulnerable feet, making him howl and wriggle his toes, desperately trying to move his feet to avoid the younger boy's unforgiving digits. From behind his sock gag, Brent squealed and cried, the words muffled and yet Johnny knew what he was saying: "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA… NO, NNNNOOOOOOO… PLEEEEEEAAAAASSSSEEEE, NO, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA…!" Much to Johnny's delight, the helpless boy squealed and curled his toes, but he also regained his rigid erection now bobbing between his legs, the tickling causing him to lose control and stimulating his big, over-sexed body.

Johnny abruptly stopped, and went back to his chair and the shoe box. Inside was a two inch [5 cm] paint brush that Johnny had cut short, so the bristles were standing up firm and yet soft. Brent now had a pale sheen of perspiration over his body from the exertions caused by Johnny tickling his big feet. Now that sheen created a gentle itch across his body, and the bristles from Johnny's paint brush would exacerbate the sensation.

Taking the brush firmly in his right hand, Johnny started at Brent's face, turned towards him, the side exposed as the boy was positioned on the bed. Eyes, ears, lips, Adam's apple, patiently Johnny brushed and scrubbed the firm bristles over every inch of Brent's body. He reached under the elevated stomach and found the edge of the coned nipples, making them crinkle from the scratchy bristles, and then down the firm abdomen and into the navel, across the hips and then over every contour of the legs and thighs down to the ankles. He saved the feet until after he had parted the small, tight mounds of the Brent's buttocks, and bristled the brush back and forth over the neat little slit of his anus, the ragged slice that led to his private and most masculine barrier, his rectum.

Brent, grunted and yelled in his gag, begging Johnny not to touch his male portal, but Johnny made sure the brush worked its wicked magic over and over the clenching hole, and his firmly tightened sphincter. "Noooooo… no, not there… stop it… aaaaaagghhhhh, no, aaawww, fuck, stop Johnny, common dude…aaaaaaggghhhhh." But Johnny danced the brush back and forth, and dabbed it into the hole rapidly, getting some of the bristles into the taut entrance, making Brent's eyes go wide and hinting at things to come.

In the meantime, between his legs, Brent's sharply curved bone jiggled and dripped, leaking its boy sap onto the bed below. Johnny took note, knowing that he would save the best for later.

Johnny used some rope to secure the spreader pole to the ends of the bed, and then tied ropes from Brent's wrists to the top of the bed. That way, Brent was prevented from falling over on his side… and his body was tautly secured for Johnny's explorations. Now Johnny could focus on Brent's athletic feet, without worrying that the big boy's struggles would result in him falling over and injuring himself. After working across Brent's feet for ten minutes, alternating with his fingernails and the brush and making the big boy howl, and his cock drip insanely, Johnny stopped to allow him to catch his breath. He removed the sweat sock gag, now soaking with Brent's spit. He wanted to hear everything that the older boy was going to say.

"Oh fuck, please dude, stop… can't take, shit, fuck… please, don't do this… oh Christ, lemme go Johnny, please dude, lemme go…" Brent's pleas were elixir to Johnny's ears, making his own boy bone ache from excitement.

It was time for the main event. He crawled onto the bed, and slid on his back between Brent's bound legs. Brent looked back as best he could his face wet with perspiration, and saw the boy getting in between his raised legs. He tried to lower his midsection, but the ropes prevented him from moving his knees. Johnny slid under the bigger boy, then with a perfect view of his chest, abdomen and crotch, took up his brush and went to work. Starting with Brent's deep navel, he trowelled the bristles into the tender opening, whisking them around and searching out the sensitive interior.

Brent gasped and then howled, pleading again for the younger boy to spare him. "Oh fuck… stop… aaaaahhhhhgggg, nnnno, nnnno… Oh shit, please, please, Johnny, dude… oh fuck… aaahhhh… ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… nnnoooon… nnnnooo… Aaaahhhh!"

But like a careful artist, Johnny made sure he scratched the itchy bristles as deeply into the older boy's navel as he could, and then danced them over his abdominals, with a side trip to his nipples, and then back. As he continued to brush over the taut muscles of the bound jock, he used his free hand to grasp a nipple and gently tug and pinch it or to root into his navel when the brush was working over a stiff nipple. All the while, Johnny watched as Brent's throbbing boner bounced and leaked, wetting his shirt as he lay under the helpless teen.

Johnny was through with this portion of his investigation; it was time to move on. "Dude, you want to get you off? Your dick's like some cunt's clit, hard and wet, so you want me to jerk you off or something?"

Brent remained quiet, unless Johnny grasped a tit, or stuck the brush into his navel, and then his yelps and groans were instinctive. He was determined not to give the kid any satisfaction, and yet his cock knob itched insanely from the wet sap drying on the tender, sensitive glans. There was nothing more Brent wanted but to have some fist close over his cock head and masturbate him thoroughly. But he did not imagine what Johnny had in mind.

Johnny grasped Brent's fat nuts in his fist, gently gripping them and instructing Brent to stay still. The big boy did as he was told, and then Johnny squeezed one nut in the sack so that the skin was taut without trying to put the hurt on Brent. Using the short bristled brush, he began to work it back and forth over the testicle, causing more ball sweat to waft into Johnny's nostrils and making his prick leak even more in his shorts. Brent squealed from the sensation, so ticklish and so strange, making his nuts ache slightly.

"Oooooh fuuuuuucccck, dude, yer killin' me… aaaawwww, no, aaaaawwww, shit, not my nuts, fuck… aaaahhhhhhhh."

But nothing Johnny did made Brent's prick lose its stiff, drooling posture, and having the older boy's testicles in his hands, tickling and gripping them, gave him a feeling of control that almost caused him to ejaculate suddenly. He had to squeeze his sphincter tightly, and put pressure on his own throbbing erection, to prevent himself from filling his shorts with spurts of his boy juice. From nut to nut, the young teen teased and bristled Brent's eggs until the older boy's pleading finally moved him to stop and give him a brief respite.

Brent's thrashing and exertions, his panic and turgid state, had produced the delicious boy smells that accompany any athlete, tinged with the hint of soap and fading scent of deodorant. Johnny inhaled these smells as he contemplated the final part of Brent's introduction to cock control, and the gasping teen was able to catch his breath before the next round began. Johnny reached up and grasped the thick curved shaft in his left hand, and then starting from the perineum to the balls, carefully brushing the sensitive orbs, scratching them all around with the stiff bristles. Then down up the root of the thick cock shaft, with a slow deliberate brushing from the narrow root to the flared glans with its huge knob. When the bristles began to scrap across the veined, pale shaft, Brent spoke up, shocked by the sensation of the brush on his pride and joy.

"Oh fuck Johnny, be careful dude, oh, shit, it feels so weird, aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh, fuck, oh man, oh shit, aaaaaagggghhhh… oh Jesus, it feels so Christ… oh fuuuuucccccckkkkk!." Brent could not describe how the soft but firm bristles felt as they worked their wicked way up to the flared corona and its bevy of nerve endings. That's where Johnny wanted to go… that is where he'd been waiting all this time to get, to work the sensitive cock knob of the middle school jock wonder until he begged for mercy.

Johnny pulled the little loose skin of the shaft back, and made sure his brush worked from one side of the flange of the corona to the other, making Brent breathless: "Oh dude, what're doing to me… oh gooooooooodddddd, help me…aaaaaaahhhhhhhh, you're killin' me dude…please Johnny, please…oh, don't dude, don't, my knob, my fucking knob!"

But Brent's deep voice and his hapless pleading were music to Johnny's ears, mostly because the big boy's knob was leaking like a sieve, drooling clear pre-boy fuck which only made Johnny's torturous bristles even more deadly on the exposed and glans. 'Yeah,' Johnny thought, 'this is what these big dudes need, they need to have their fat cock heads worked till they are dizzy… that would teach 'em some manners, and make 'em realize where they should be in the pecking order.' He re-doubled his efforts, and kept Brent panting and pleading for thirty minutes, tickling his cock tip till the big boy promised to do anything if Johnny would only stop.

"You'll do anything I ask dude?" Johnny said in an even voice.

"Yes, Johnny, anything, common man, stop, for Christ sake, give my prick a break…!"

"Okay, I'll stop… but when we start again, you've got some real fun stuff to do… and if you try to back off, they we're right back where we started, with you all over the internet… go it Brent?"

The defeated older boy, still gasping for break, hurried to acquiesce. "Kay, kay… I promise, I promise… now STOP, PLEASE STOP!."

Johnny used the brush one last time over the glans and around the corona, watching as Brent curled his feet for the last excruciating time… and then relaxed as the bristles slid off. Little did he know that his next situation would hardly make him feel as if the trade-off was worth it.

Johnny released the ropes and helped Brent sit up on the bed, and then released his left hand from the metal hand-cuffs, but cuffed his right hand to the spreader bar that was attached to his feet. This configuration caused Brent to sit on his ass, his torso upright, and his feet were planted on the bed, his knees bent up and apart, principally because his one hand was attached to the spreader bar. Johnny climbed onto the bed, his prick hard and dripping in his jeans, and slid behind the seated Brent. His chest was against Brent's naked back, and his legs were spread and outside Brent's hips. Johnny looked around Brent's torso so he could see the pendulous cock, still tumescent. Then Johnny slid his right hand under Brent's right arm, and reached for his turgid little right nipple, squeezing it gently, and again rolling it. Immediately, Brent groaned from the sweet sensation of his tit being manipulated, and he hunched slightly, forcing the mounded pec into the fingers that were toying with its rubbery teat. Johnny's other hand slid down from the left side and reached under Brent's big balls, now resting on the bed. His index finger wormed its way past the connection between balls and ass, and zeroed in on the hairy little boy slit of the fourteen year old athlete. Within moments, Brent's prick was once again hard and throbbing, its head leaking more pre-ejaculate.

Now Johnny spoke, giving Brent his new instructions. "Okay Brent, time for you to keep your promise." Johnny picked up a bottle of lubricant, and told Brent to put his left palm out. When he did so, Johnny squirted a large dollop of the smooth, sticky cream into Brent's hand. Then Johnny spoke further on Brent's duty: "Now I want you to grab your wiener in your fist, but not the shaft, only the head. I want you to slowly masturbate yourself to ejaculation… but you can't cum until I give you permission. And while you're jacking that big mother, this is what you're gonna say…" Brent was groaning softly from the tickling of his ass pucker, and the twisting of his tit, but he could hear Johnny's words.

Brent's pig paw, the same one that delivered stinging fastballs and a brilliant sinker for a teenage boy of fourteen, was now palming his fat cock head, basting the sensitive glans with the lubricant on his fist, mixing it with his own slippery pre-cum. The moment his rough palm, callused from gripping the baseball, slid over the big prick knob, Brent groaned aloud: "OOOOOhhhhhhhhhh fuck… …aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, Jesus, it's too sensitive, too much…oooooooooowwwwwwwww." Little did Brent know that when Johnny had squirted the lubricant onto his fist with one hand, he had switched on his video camera with the other. Being behind Brent, the lens was only capturing two anonymous hands tweaking Brent's tits and fingering his boy pussy, while the big teenage jock was palming his own fat cock head while he groaned and moaned like a whore for the camera. It was another triumph for Johnny, and another step down the road to enslavement for Brent. But there was more to cum…

Johnny, still behind Brent, began whispering into the older boy's ears (and occasionally letting his tongue glide into the sensitive canal), words he wanted him to repeat out loud. At this point, Brent's sexual heat had turned into a frenzy, and the same glaze that overcame him with Father Richardson was descending on him in Johnny's bedroom. Even though he should resist, he couldn't and anyway he was trapped in this deal with the devil to prevent the video clip with Father Richardson from being shared with the world. Johnny did not miss his opportunity to get not only pictures, but words on his new video: "Feels good doesn't it Brent, dude, you love it… stroking that fat fucker, getting your tits pinched, and a finger at your cunt… so say it for me, say it for me…, 'I wanna cum, I need to cum, all the time, every day, constantly… please, let me cum…' say it dude, say it."

Brent was sliding to oblivion… his cock head was aching and throbbing, and the more he twisted his fist around it, the more he wanted to do it… "Aaaaaagggggghhhh, oh fuck, oh shit…aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh yeeeeaaaaaaaahhhhhh, oh yes, oooooohhhhhh… I wanna cum, I gotta cum… I need to cum… fuck, all the time… ooooohhhhhhh shit, please lemme cum… … …AAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!"

Johnny was ecstatic… he had it, Brent McDermiott as teenage boy slut all in living color and sharp detail. He middle school's saint and hunk, revealed as the cum needing slut punk that rested beneath that handsome face and luscious body. He may be shy in the hallways and when smiling at the girls in classes, but once his cock was hard and his teats plucked, he became the trash punk that lives in every teenage boy. Now Johnny had him and he was going to make sure that he got to enjoy this Brent McDermott on his own terms from now on.

The combination of Brent's copious pre-ejaculate, flowing from every pulse of his erect prong twisted in his own relentless fist, and the drain of the creamy lubricant Johnny had poured onto Brent's palm, had drooled down between the big boy's thighs and all the way to his ragged boy slit. There it lubricated Johnny's worming index finger, and assisted it in breaching the tight sphincter that Brent wanted to keep intact. But the tantalizing sensation of a finger scratching and teasing the entrance to his male cunt, like he had occasionally done when he was masturbating in the privacy of his bedroom, caused Brent to release his clenching anus and let Johnny slide his probing, insisting digit into the hot, moist rectum. When Johnny's finger reached the hidden clitoris within Brent's boy pussy, it was as if someone had thrown the switch and turned on every circuit in the teenage hunk's body.

In all the times that Brent had stroked the entrance to his male cunt, tickled the anus, and even slipped his fingertip inside when he jerked off in the shower, he had never forced his finger deeper into his rectum. He knew that was where his doctor would go, but the sensation was so intense that he could never bring himself to touch his fuck nut. But Johnny knew that with the right stimulation, Brent would fire like a cannon, blasting his boy seed in torrents from a good frig of his prostate. When Johnny's experienced digit slid unerringly to the teenage boy clit, and then gently rubbed back and forth over it, Brent's eyes bulged, and he hissed like a snake: "ssssssssssiiiiiiiiiiiissssssssssssss!!" He couldn't do more, other than to tighten his masturbating fist around the suddenly expanding glans of his penis. His piss lips widened, and shooting from his curved cock, up to his face and chest, were long streams of teenage spunk. The jism squirted over his torso, splattered against his face, and seemed like it would never stop; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight shots before the juice thickened into a white drool that spilled over his fist and coated the aching cock knob. "AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH, MOTHERER FUCKER, OH SHIT…JESUS CHRIST… AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH… OOOOOHHHH YES, OH MOTHER-FUCKING YES… …!!" And every word Brent ejaculated along with his sticky, white boy spooge, was captured on Johnny's video camera.

Johnny let go of Brent's nipple, and slid his right hand down to grasp Brent's fist before the older teen could let go of his sensitive cock tip. He wanted to make sure that Brent worked his overwrought knob for thirty more seconds, making him squeal and grunt from the excruciating manipulation of his helpless and whorish prick head. "Oh fuck, common dude, lemme go… oh God damn… yer killin' me…no, nnnnnooooooo. please, mother fuck…pleeeeaaaasssseee, aaaaaaawwwwwwww, dude… nnnnnnoooooooo."

But Johnny kept his fist over Brent's and the bigger teen just submitted, allowed his fist to be used like a glove to work the tingling, ticklish glans, forcing it to remain bloated and stiff, keeping Brent working himself, unable or unwilling to stop the agonizing friction. Brent through his head back on Johnny's shoulder, the older boy submitting to the exquisite tickling that was making him grind his teeth once again, but this time in horny pleasure, bordering on pain. Johnny had a real teenage boy slut in Brent, a guy who could not stop playing with his penis no matter how much his rational self told him to stop. All Brent could do was wheeze groan, and let Johnny use him: "uuuuggggghhh… uuuuuugggghhhhh…uuggghhh."

When Brent's fist fell away from exhaustion, Johnny could not resist sliding his own palm over the big teenagers prick head, making him twitch and flinch from the sensations, but too weak to stop the younger boy. Instead, Brent just lay back and let Johnny's hands roam over him, finally accepting the fact that this thirteen year old punk kid from next door was now in charge of his hunky, athletic body.

There was about an hour left before Johnny's parents would return, so he took Brent to the bathroom. He left on the spreader bar, making the bigger boy hobble, and re-cuffed his wrists behind his back. In the bathroom, Johnny made Brent pee, but held the big boy's penis, telling him that from now on, his cock was not his to touch without permission. Brent was exhausted and defeated. He said nothing, but groaned as his already sore and spent prick started to erect again. Johnny laughed, "wow dude, you're a real whore huh, can't stop it from getting hard dude, just like your prick being touched and played with… fuck, what a boy pussy you are… " Through his half hard erection, Brent was finally able to piss, and when he finished, Johnny played with the big boy wiener just to make it hard and to humiliate Brent more.

Then he told him to bend over. Brent looked perplexed, and turned to stare at Johnny. That's when he saw what the boy had in mind. Behind him hanging on the shower door was a hot water bottle with the douche tube and nozzle attached. "Oh no Johnny, common man, you've had your fun, lemme shower and go home… please dude, don't do this."

But Johnny ignored Brent's pleas, and just pushed on his back to keep him bent over, then as he gripped the slender nozzle and tube, he told Brent what was going to happen. "Kay dude, I'm going to slip this up your shit chute and release the soapy water. When I pull the nozzle out, squeeze your butt tight otherwise you'll dump your shitty guts out on the floor and all over your legs."

Then Johnny greased the nozzle, and gently worked it into Brent's anus. The big boy groaned again, and gasped when Johnny purposely made it bump Brent's prostate. But he was soon distracted by the flow of water into his rectum and colon, and suddenly, he felt like he was full. Johnny clamped off the hose, and then warned Brent as he slowly pulled the nozzle our of Brent's tight anal cleft.

"UUUUUUgggggghhhhh, dddduuuuuddddee, lemme sit on the toilet… please, PLEASE, ooooooooohhhhhh fuck, I can't hold it, I can't hold it…!"

But Johnny was watching Brent's cock. The pressure in the big teen's rectum and on his prostate had caused the teenage jock's cock to fully erect, and once again Brent was leaking sap. Nature had built Brent for sex, and Johnny was exploring every way in which to make the hapless jock prick hard. Finally, Johnny helped Brent sit down, his penis thrusting up and curving to his body, drooling clear pre-cum, as he evacuated his bowels on the toilet. The smell was initially bad, but Johnny had put on the exhaust fan, so it wasn't too much to bear. Then Johnny repeated the procedure again, even though Brent pleaded with him not to, and once again, Brent's cock was rigid, leaking sap all down the shaft and coating the big knob. Johnny steered him to the toilet using his thick boy dick as a handle, and while he evacuated his bowels, Johnny teased the bulging cock head. This time, Brent's enema water was almost clear, so Johnny had finished his task.

Next, Johnny walked Brent into the shower stall, big enough for two people. He secured Brent's cuffed hands over his head on the thick shower pipe that jutted out of the wall. Brent was stretched out, his feet still tethered to the pole, looking beautiful and helpless. Johnny stripped down naked then turned on the water, making it warm and comfortable for both boys. Jesus this was the coolest thing Johnny could possibly imagine, the best looking kid in the middle school, dick hard, bound, and in his shower with Johnny calling the shots and soaping the kid, making his moan and purr from the sweet sensation of someone caressing his big body. Johnny started at his feet, and worked up both legs, under the balls, into the ass crack, over the stomach and back, then the arms and neck. Johnny wanted to wait to soap out the boy's navel, to milk his sweet nipples, and to masturbate the big cock. Before he milked him again, though, he kneeled in front of the teenage adonis and slipped the fat cock head into his mouth and sucked for all he was worth. "Uuuuuummmmmm… … slurp, suck… … uuuuuuummm, suck, suck, slurp." The sweet nectar of Brent's pre-cum drooled onto his tongue, and he lashed the sensitive corona and glans with his dextrous tongue. Johnny gave himself five minutes of sucking, as he watched the bigger boy lean back against the wall, and surrender to the wonderful sucking on his ever ready tool.

Now it was time to drain Brent's balls again. Once again he stood behind Brent, and let his own erect penis, slide into the boy's ass crack, then he reached one hand up to his nipples and used the other soapy fist to slide from root to knob on Brent's horny prong. "Can't help yourself huh dude… huh Brent, just love it when someone strokes your cock… like Father Richardson, like me… just need to have your prick played with all the time, huh."

Brent said nothing, but his moans spoke a thousand words, revealing that no matter what his conscience said, his cock wanted to be used and played with. As Johnny spoke, he concentrated his efforts on the fat cock head that so recently had been thoroughly massaged by Brent's own fist. But for whatever reason, Brent's sensitive cock head still craved to be stroked, and so Johnny's roiling, soapy fist felt delicious masturbating the fat, leaking glans. At the same time, he twisted and rolled the older boy's erect tits, making him lean back against the smaller boy, pushing both of them against the wall, and bowing Brent's body for complete access to Johnny's ministrations. At the same time, Jonny slide his rigid boy dick back and forth in Brent's muscular trough, grinding his own ticklish glans into the anus and hairy trench. Back and forth, back and forth he fucked, and as he screwed his prick into the jock hunk's crack, he slid his fist up and over the boy's straining erection. Soon both were grunting like farm boys screwing sheep.

It took only ten minutes this time, because Johnny was conscious of the clock, but soon Brent was whining and hunching as the smaller boy's unrelenting fist milked another good cum from him, four spurts of jism, and a steady drool over the slowly grinding hand.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH…tooooo sensitive… aaaaaaahhhhhh, nnnnnnooooo, oh fuck, ohhhhhhhhhhhh…shit, mother-fuck…aaaaaaaaahhhhhh."

Then Johnny gave Brent a break, and let his still hard prick go. Instead, he continued to screw his own prick into the older boy's ass cleft, and within a minute he too was squealing with pleasure as his thirteen year old cock spit five small wads of boy juice onto Brent's anus, basting it. He washed the boy off, and then walked him out of the shower and patiently dried him from head to foot.

Back in the bedroom, Johnny laid out the score. Brent would not ejaculate without permission from Johnny. But just to make sure, he slipped the same device he had used on Wes to prevent him from masturbating. The woven straw sheath was too tight for Brent to remove without injuring himself, but for safety sake, there was a small lock at the base of the penis that kept a woven wire from allowing any hope of release. It allowed the penis to piss from its open end, and to erect. But there was no possibility of a cock within the sheath allowing the trapped penis to expand to the last stage for ejaculation. Brent could wear it under his jock strap, but he would not be able to ejaculate without Johnny releasing him. In addition, whenever Johnny called, wrote an e-mail, or spoke to Brent at school, he was to do whatever he was told. Finally, he could be with Amy all he wanted, but sex was to be one way. He was to convince her that out of respect for her and their feelings for each other, he would please her, but the priest had told him he could not relieve himself. It was a good strategy since Amy was a traditional girl, and as long as no sperm was spread, she believed there had been no sex. Brent was about to become an expert in oral sex, and Amy was going to be a happy girl.

Brent dressed quietly, listening to Johnny. He confirmed that Johnny would not send out the tape he had or any of the pics. But as he left, Johnny gave him instructions to check his e-mail, letting him know there would be a surprise for him. Sure enough, Brent was shocked to find the tape of him in Johnny's room, acting like a whore, masturbating and saying out loud how much he wanted to cum. The deal was sealed, the trap sprung. Brent was no long in charge of his own cock, and Johnny had created a prick slave out of the middle school's All-American hunk.

Chapter 10
Brent Drops His Pants

Brent checked his e-mail on Friday morning as he was instructed to do each day, and there was a message from Johnny. The message simply said to meet Johnny by the Field House at noon. A chill went down Brent's back, but as long as Johnny kept his word, Brent had no choice but to follow the instructions. Maybe Johnny would take the sheath off of his cock, and maybe he would be allowed to masturbate himself. It had been four full days since he had last ejaculated, and his dick had gone hard numerous times in the confining sheath, allowed him to drip his pre-cum, but preventing him from achieving release. The important thing was to make sure no one saw him make contact with Johnny. He wanted no evidence of their relationship apparent to his friends or others at the school.

At 11:45, at the end of class before lunch, Brent asked Mrs. Hogan his teacher if he could go to the restroom before lunch. He blushed, giving an academy award performance, explaining that he could not wait. She approved his request with the admonishment that he should not make this kind of request a habit, and that he should use his lunch for his personal matters. He promised he would not ask regularly, but worrying that he might face this situation with Johnny again, he lied that he was taking a medication that occasionally forced him to urinate and that he could not always make it to noon. She accepted his explanation, and gave him a hall pass. Quickly, Brent slipped out the door, nodding to a buddy in the back of the room who looked at him with a 'what goes' expression. He hurried out the building, and carefully made his way around the football field, to the Field House that was only used for teams practicing in the late afternoon.

When he arrived at the entrance of the Field House, behind stall like walls that provided privacy for the lockerroom entrance, Brent saw Johnny. "Good work dude, let's get going, we don't have much time."

Brent did not ask how Johnny was able to get there early, or more importantly how he had a key to the lockerroom entrance. He just remained silent, and followed Johnny's lead. The thirteen year old boy unlocked the Field House door, and let Brent into the lockerroom with its musty smell of unwashed gym clothes, especially dirty socks. He led Brent to a bathroom adjacent to the showers, then back to the large disabled stall in the back. When he pushed open the stall door, there was Darren, standing in one corner.

Brent was shocked, he stopped and looked at Johnny, and was turning to walk out, when Johnny stopped him. "Stay cool dude, this is Darren, my buddy. He's in on the whole deal, and he's sworn to keep our arrangement secret. Don't worry, he won't blow our cover."

Brent looked hard at Johnny, then his expression changed to one of pleading: "Fuck, no more people… come on Johnny, you promised it was going to be between us… why this, why this guy… fuck…" Brent's head hung down, and he had a look alternately of desperation and resignation.

But Johnny tried to calm his fears. "Look, like I said, he's been in on this deal from the beginning (a lie, but Darren knew his role and said nothing). Plus, if you want that thing off your pecker, you gotta chill and let Darren work with us… kay?"

Brent looked up, biting his lip, took a deep breath, and walked slowly into the large stall. His rational self told him this was a mistake, but what could he do… this punk kid was calling the shots. Plus, "what the fuck" his prick was stiffening just from being around Johnny. He couldn't explain it, but something was making him cock hard, and when that happened, it was like his brain changed and he was more susceptible to Johnny's demands. Maybe Johnny would take the sheaf off of his cock, and he could get some relief… "fuck, what was he saying to himself… Jesus," he was confused, real confused.

Once Johnny closed the door, he instructed Brent to put his book bag on the floor, and to raise his hands over his head. As he placed the bag down, Brent closed his eyes when Johnny instructed him to put his hands over his head… he knew what was coming, and fuck if his cock wasn't starting to go hard in his jeans, a drip of sap oozing from his piss lips. He knew he should object, and even if he hated these punk kids for screwing up his life, something more than the bargain to keep his pictures off the net made him cooperate. His cock tingled, his nipples went hard under his t-shirt, rubbing against the material. Almost naturally he spread his legs as his hands went over his head… Brent was becoming a perfect teen slut for Johnny, and his dick was beginning to control his fifteen year old brain even if he didn't understand it. Johnny smiled and looked at Darren who was dumbfounded that Johnny had the school's biggest jock hero under his thumb. It had been one thing to get Wes to submit over a weekend, but this was Brent McDermott, this was fucking awesome and amazing.

Johnny told Darren to get behind Brent, and to slide his hands up under the bigger boy's t-shirt, then across his stomach and pecs. As he did so, his thick fingers brushing the hair trailing up to the navel, and up to the space between the mounded pecs, Darren's cock stirred and slowly went rigid in his shorts, unable to control the excitement that coursed through him as he touched another kid's body. Brent threw his head back as he had in Johnny's bedroom, and sucked in his breath, the delicious feeling of someone's hands gliding over his body, making his cock burp pre-cum in his briefs, and his nipples almost ache from how hard they had gotten. Johnny reached down to Brent's jeans, slid down the zipper, and thrusting his hand inside grasped the huge erection struggling to get beyond the elastic waist band of his briefs, but held in check by his belt-and of course the cock sheath Johnny had installed. Johnny gripped the drooling cock knob through the briefs, and thumbed it, while the straw sheath seemed to tighten and strangle the big boy's boner. Brent hissed, and then groaned, the sweet sensation of his cock head being played with making him want to surrender though he knew he should be cursing and resisting.

But Johnny knew his prey well, and spoke with a soft, nasty tone as he dominated the older boy: "Yeah, that's it Brent, you're just a big dicked, horned-up prick slave… huh, aren't ya dude… you just need this bad boy played with and milked, huh?"

Brent just groaned more from Darren's fingers now playing across his taut tits, and Johnny's grazing the cotton material of his briefs around the bloated, sticky glans of his trapped prong. Then, shocking Brent, he grunted out what Johnny wanted him to say: "UUUUuummmmmm…oh fuck, yeah, ooooooohhhhhh fuck…" The grip of the small hands on his aching prick made him want to thrust his hips and drive the itchy glans into the gripping palm, chaffing it, and soothing it in its desperate need.

"Kay dude, now I want you to lower your hands, and push yer jeans and yer briefs down to your ankles… now do it."

Brent acted like a zoombie, he lowered his hands quickly, unbuttoned his jeans and undid his belt, then pushed both the jeans and briefs down past his knees, letting them pool at his ankles when he shook each foot to make them fall the whole way.

"Now turn around and bend over, and spread your cheeks so Darren can see your cunt…"

Brent didn't open his eyes, but he winced as he heard Johnny's demand. "Fuck, they were turning him into a bitch, a jock bitch punk, and he fucking couldn't stop 'em… he couldn't stop 'em…" Without a word, he complied, turning to the stall wall, and bending over, using his big hands to spread his ass cheeks, revealing the deep hairy trough and the ragged pink slit of his tight anal pucker to the two thirteen year old boys' gaze. His big duck egg balls hung down from their sack, and the thick root of his cock, looked so vulnerable and sensitive between his legs.

"Brent, did you clean out you cunt this morning with an enema?"

Brent was shocked by the question. Did he forget to do something that Johnny had instructed him to do? He hesitated… then in a faltering voice, he said, "Ah, no… you didn't ask me to give myself an emena… no I didn't do it, was I supposed to?"

Johnny smiled broadly and looked at Darren, winking before he responded to the boy holding his ass cheeks apart for the younger teens to inspect. "Naw… I just wanted to find out whether you clean yourself on your own…did you have a shit this morning?"

Brent nodded, embarrassed to discuss his personal hygiene with these two boys.

But Johnny insisted. "I didn't hear you dude, did you take a dump this morning?"

Brent squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, but answered in a normal voice. "Yeah, yeah, I had one this morning."

Johnny peristed, okay, so describe it… was it big? Do you shit small turd balls, or a big long slug… tell us."

Brent groaned, but this time, his throbbing cock was not the source. The mere fact that his cock got harder when Johnny asked him to discuss his bowel movement, scared Brent but he was like a helpless cunt. He had to answer, and his cock knob drooled more sap as he spoke. "Christ, I dunno… I guess it was along turd, Jesus, I don't study my shit."

Johnny interjected, "Well dude, from now on I want you to keep a log of each time you shit. And I want you to begin to wash out your pussy each time you take a shower. I'll be watching, so be sure you use your Mom's douche bag and nozzle, and squirt some water and soap up your fuck hole and clean it out… got it?"

"Johnny dude, please what kind of crap is that… Jesus dude, gimme a break will ya, I don't put shit up my asshole… common dude, gimme a break, huh?"

But Johnny insisted, and as Brent's penis continued to throb against the cool metal of the toilet partition, basting it with his sticky, clear sap, he agreed to do Johnny's bidding.

Now Johnny moved on to another humiliating question, "And have you played with your pussy at night since we were together on Monday?"

Brent sighed deeply and helplessly thinking to himself '… fuck, why was he asking all these questions, why was he making him humiliate himself in front of this Darren kid…' "Yeah, I did once… but it made my cock too hard, and it hurt in the thing you got on my prick… so I stopped."

Johnny grinned again at Darren. "Yeah, I thought you'd play with your pussy dude, that's why I asked. From now on, don't play with your cunt unless we tell you to. It's off limits, along with your tits. You can play with your dick, because you can't cum unless I take off your cock restraint. Now I want you to suck your left index finger, and then slowly stick it in your pussy."

"Aw dude, common not this stuff again… pleeeaaaasssse, don't do this."

But Johnny wouldn't budge, and slowly, reluctantly, Brent sucked his thick left index finger, and then using both hands to spread his ass cheeks, he gently rubbed the wet digit across his anal slit. He gasped as he often did when he touched his own asshole, it tickled in a strange and compelling way. It made him clench his cheecks, forcing him to work harder to spread them just from touching the tingly anal knot. His finger scratched back and forth, and the slick spit allowed him to gradually work the finger into his hole, sliding in to the first knuckle. "Uuuuuuugggggghhhhh… " Brent grunted as the finger slipped in. Then Johnny told him to slide it in deeper, and find his fuck nut, then rub it.

Already, Brent's huge prick was bobbing, still bound within the sheath and erect, its curved shaft bumping against the stall partition, splattering more of his copious pre-cum this way and that. When his rooting finger reached the sensitive prostate, and he tentatively rubbed his finger across its surface, he squealed out loud from the sensation, and his cock ejected a thick dollop of pre-fuck, lubricating the entire knob of his fat glans. "Yeah, that's it dude, rub it again… " Johnny instructed, and Brent bent over further from the incredible soreness of the finger rubbing his boy clit, and the electric charge it kept sending to his unruly boner, making it throb and shudder. Without further direction, Brent rubbed the thick gristle inside of his rectum, making him clench his ass muscles, and thrust his hips involuntarily, finger fucking himself before the two younger boys, squatting to make sure he got his finger in deep enough to thrill his boy clit. Both Johnny and Darren were about to ejaculate in their pants. It was an incredible scene, the big dumb jock hunk, fucking himself with his own finger and trying to masturbate his cock helplessly against the cold partition of the toilet stall. Both boys unzipped their shorts and pulled out their cocks from their shorts, not wanting to mess themselves by accident watching the amazing scene before them.

Johnny got control of himself, and spoke, his voice shaking with excitement. "Kay Brent, now wipe your finger off on the toilet paper, and put your hands back over your head."

Brent was relieved to slowly remove his finger from his rectum, even though the clenching sensation from his finger probe made his cock continue to drool pre-cum in spurts. It seemed nature had given Brent an awful connection between his ass and his prick, and more than just the hammer to drive his penis into some tight, clinging hole. Brent finished wiping his finger, tossed the toilet paper into the bowl, and placed his hands back over his head, still facing the toilet partition with his jeans at his ankles.

Johnny had to turn him around, his masculine reluctance was reticent to expose his huge, erect pecker to the boys. Once turned, Johnny instructed Darren to get on his knees and put his hands behind his head. Darren looked shocked, but followed orders as he always did, his thick boy prick thrusting out of his shorts, wet with is own emissions. Johnny reached into his pocket, and removed the small key that secured the lock at the bottom of Brent's sheath. Once he did so, he slowly twisted the straw sheath one way, then the other, until it rasped over the bigger boys sensitive glans, and slid off, making him hunch from the ticklish sensation. Then he told Brent to lean down and let Darrent put his finger from one hand into Brent's mouth to lick and suck them till they were good and wet. Brent was beyond resistance, and submissively leaned down and followed Johnny's instructions, and Darren watched amazed, his cock throbbing again, as the older boy sucked his fingers, using his tongue to baste them and make them wet with his spit. Then Johnny told Darren to grip Brent's huge cock knob with just his finger, twisting them back and forth around the sensitive corona, scratching his nails over the pebbled surface and occasionally over the smooth, rigid glans. At the same time, Johnny took a position behind Brent, letting his talented fingers, well practiced, to return under the t-shirt to Brent's sensitive nips. Rolling and gently tugging on them, Johnny had returned to the other switch which made Brent's primitive boy biology turn the athlete's thinking brain into a facilitator for a Pavlovian sex addict. Brent immediately began to pant and groan from the twin sensations, leaning back onto Johnny, pushing the boy up against the stall's partition. "OOOhhhhhhhhhh, fuck… … ooooooooohhhhhhhhhhh" Brent mewled as his nipples were rolled and scratched, making the electric current force his ass muscles to clench and his penis to spasm while Darren's persistent finger tips danced around the knob of his fat prick head.

As Johnny worked the sensitive titties, Darren tickled and played with Brent's aching wiener, making the now unrestrained shaft erect to full extension and drawing an appreciative moans from Brent… "aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh yeah, ohhhhhh fuck, aaaaaaggghhhh shit…oh fucking yessssssss." Then Johnny squirted some hand cream onto Darren's palm, and told his friend to grip the huge knob of Brent's sticky boner. "Put your hands onto the bar over your head" Johnny told Brent, and the big boy reached up from his head to grasp the metal bar that helped to keep the partitions in place. That way, Brent was stretched, his firm abdominal muscles in sharp relief, his vulnerable navel exposed to Johnny's and Darren's fingers, and his teenage body spread and served up to the mauling younger boys hands. Johnny lowered his head to one side of Brent's chest, and pushing up his t-shirt, began to suck on one of Brent's tits, while he plied and worked the other. Darren was told to use the index finger of his free hand to probe into Brent's exposed navel, while his relentless fist now masturbated the leaking prick head of the big boy's whorish prong.

"Yeah, that's it Brent, dude you're hot for it, just like when Father Richardson did you, and just like Monday night… do it dude, let's milk that big boner, yeah, fuck Darren's fist you prick punk." Johnny's words and the action with Brent had both of the younger boys stone hard and ready to ejaculate. For fifteen minutes they drove Brent up the hill to ejaculation, then they would back off, and just torture him, making him beg and plead to cum. His hips were grinding and thrusting, his knees slightly bent, his torso stretched as he surrendered to the boys' manipulation of his beautiful body. He couldn't help it, he couldn't resist, the sensations were so fucking good… he had to cum, he had to cum!

"Oh fuck, yeah, please don't stop, please lemme cum, aaaaaagggghhhhh, fuck, shit, yeah, oh God it feels so good, common dude, get me off… aaaaaaahhhhhhh yeah, oh, shit, right there…oh fuck!"

Once again, Johnny had the middle school jock hunk fucking a fist, stretched out like a bound slut, having his tits pinched and his prick knob mauled. After fifteen full minutes, and mindful that time was running out on lunch, Johnny instructed Darren in lewd terms to twist his fist over and around the leaking plum of Brent's over-wrought glans. Concentrating his strokes, shortening them and quickening his pace, Darrent pushed the hapless hunk over the edge… "aaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeee!" Brent squealed from the intensity of his ejaculation, delayed for four long teenage days. Rope after rope of thick teenage spooge bolted from the grossly expanded prick head, and the long piss lips, as Darren's fist continued to roil and milk it while Johnny's fingers and lips slurped and pinched the stiff boy tits. As he shot, both younger boys ejaculated from watching him, their rigid boy prongs unable to resist the sight of the older, hunky teen reduced to a writhing fuck toy in the field house crapper.

Once again, when Brent's ejaculation turned into drool, Johnny had Darren keep sliding his unforgiving palm over the fat cock tip, warning Brent to hold onto the bar and not let go. "Aaaah, no, aaaaggggh, fuck, nnnnnnooooo… aaaaaaaggghhh… ssssssssss…no, no, don't, ooohhhhh, fuck… … aaaaahhhhhhh!" Brent's big hips thrust and shuddered, forcing his engorged prick knob into the thirteen year old's clinging fist, wanting to escape, but his sex crazed body craving every excruciating sensation from the constant milking of his helpless prick tip-hissing from the terrible sensation. There he was, the middle school hunk, streched, milked, his pants and briefs at his ankles and almost begging to have his penis played with by two thriteen year old punks. Brent McDermott had become Johnny's prick slave indeed, and there was more to come. Johnny quickly put the sheath back on Brent's cock, after he had him wipe it clean with a wet paper towel, and then refastened the small lock at the base to keep the big boy in check. Somehow, Brent was learning to accept his role, and as long as his big boy prick got worked regularly, maybe he could make it through this ordeal.

Later that evening, after practice and homework, Johnny called Brent and told him to meet him and Darren at the park a few blocks from their homes. Brent protested, but each time he spoke with Johnny, he was less and less animated about his reluctance. Slowly he was becoming accustomed to submitting to the younger boy's requests, and since he had not been hurt or his secret revealed, a certain level of trust was gradually beginning to grow. If he was willing to trust the priest, perhaps he could trust this punk kid. In any case, he didn't have much choice, so trusting was better than being humiliated in front of the entire school and his family.

Each boy had his excuse for their parents in order to get out of the house, and when they met, Johnny directed them to a park toilet that was remote from where people hung out. It wasn't easy to get to, you had to walk into the park and climb up a hill, so not many people used these johns. It was just after dinner, so the place was even more deserted. Once they were in the small building, its bare bulb light dimly illuminating the damp space, Johnny made Brent strip. As usual Brent pleaded his case, but by the time he had hung his clothes on the hook on the door, and stepped out of his shoes and socks, his cock was already up and hard. Johnny then tied his ankles spread to the legs of the toilet partition with him facing the wood wall. There was a large hole in the wall of the wooden toilet stall, and Brent's beautiful curved cock was threaded through the opening. Then his arms were tied to the top of the partition frame and a wet jock strap he was required to bring with him was stuffed into his mouth and secured. The cock sheath was again removed, and Brent's unruly boner was already dripping in anticipation. The boy slut was ready to be milked again if Johnny wished it.

Darren was placed in the stall next door, and allowed to push his jeans and shorts to his own ankles, so he could play with his cock-a rare privilege given to him by Johnny. For his part, Johnny got behind Brent, and dropping his own jeans and shorts, he thrust his rigid boy prick under Brent's hairy balls, letting his cock knob rub under the turgid shaft of the older boy and protrude through the glory hole into the stall where Darren starred spell-bound at both penises. He could feel Brent's prick throb from the sensation of the Johnny's prick rubbing against his, and the pressing of their bodies together. The stall doors were locked, then following Johnny's instructions, Darren began first by using the copious lube from Brent's more mature prick to baste and lubricate both boners thrusting out of the large glory hole toward his face. Johnny's boy prick vibrated from the sweet sensation of his friend's finger pads stroking his prick under Brent's, causing him to thrust up under the older boy and rub his crotch into Brent's taut, hairy buns. What a fucking turn-on, rubbing up against the bigger boy, hearing him grunt into his wet jock strap and inhaling the ball sweat from his practice earlier that afternoon. Then Johnny slid his hands up Brent's chest and gripped both of the jock's turgid nipples, pinching and plucking them, and making Brent grind his ass from the toying with his tits.

Darren knew what was coming, Johnny had warned him. He had never sucked a cock before, but he was going to today. He wanted to beg Johnny to let him off, but he knew that would result in some punishment, and when Johnny worked on his cock or his body it was both delicious and unbearable. Johnny told him exactly what to do. He said that just cause a guy pisses out of his prick doesn't mean it's gross of weird. He reminded Darren how much girls licked to suck cock. Darren wasn't persuaded, after all, that's what girls were… cocksuckers, made to service men. Plus they were girls, they could do that sort of thing. But Johnny gave him that look, and he just lowered his eyes and said okay.

These thoughts raced through Darren's mind as he closed his eyes, and stuck out his tongue, first swabbing Johnny's smaller cock head beneath Brent's big plum. It didn't taste so bad, and it was soft… he didn't know what to expect, so soft was okay. Darren licked again, and he felt Johnny's knob throb from the ticklish sensation, and then it seemed like auto-pilot took over, and he closed his lips around the sweet little acorn, lashing it with his tongue, and slurping up the sticky goo that seemed to drip from the piss lips. He sucked Johnny's cock till he felt comfortable, then he opened his eyes and stared at Brent's big boy wiener. He let his tongue trail up the curved shaft, licking up the clear sap that was dripping down. It tasted okay, kinda like Johnny's, so he licked faster and worked his way up to the smooth circumcision scar near the fat knob. He swiped his tongue back and forth, and felt the penis vibrate and go hard. But he was not licking hard enough to make Brent shoot his wad, so he tantalized the older boy, making his cock throb from the sweet, wet basting of Darren's muscular tongue.

Then Darren moved forward and engulfed the fat cock head into his hot mouth, his tongue lashing it as he had Johnny, but now adding a bit of suction, like it was a popsicle. Darren head a bang, and moved his head away. Fuck, Brent was banging his hips against the partition… he must like what Darren was doing. So Darren, lost in his task, went back to work, letting his tongue wrap around the wide corona of the older teen, dragging it back and forth as he sucked just the helplessly exposed know, slurping over the aching glans to glean every drop of the copious pre-fuck drooling out from the piss lips.

For fifteen minutes Darren tortured the big glans of Brent's prick, thrusting out of the glory hole helpless and exposed. He made a circular fist for Johnny's cock, and let his friend fuck it while he ministered to Brent's prong. For his part, Brent was mewling into the wet jock strap secured in his mouth, feeling his cock knob tantalized by the soft lips and hot mouth he could not see, sucking, licking and lashing his precious cock head. His legs began to shake, and he couldn't pound his hips any harder into the partition because of the bonds that secured him fast. He lifted up on his strong toes, pushing one last time, and suddenly waves of pleasure engulfed him, as bolt after bolt of his sticky cum shot into Darren's vacuuming mouth. "…AAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!"

All three boys burst into huge ejaculations at the same time each triggered by the other. Darren shot spontaneously when Brent began to unload his boy spunk into his mouth, and his fist tightened around Johnny's wiener, making his friend spunk from the wonderful grip gliding over his cock in rapid movements of excitement when Brent ejaculated. Darren followed his orders, and suckled on Brent's swollen glans for an extra three minutes, making him squeal with the sensation into his gag and bounce helplessly against the partition to escape the sweet ache from his glans and Darren's voracious mouth, as Johnny continued to ply and scratch his stiff teats.

After a shower monitored by Johnny's devices, Brent went to bed and slept a deep, dreamless sleep, his prick knob aching from the sensations he had experienced, but somehow sated by the opportunity to ejaculate twice in one day. He couldn't understand it, but Brent McDermott was actually happy that Johnny had let him cum, and yet ashamed that he enjoyed the way in which his penis was subjected to control by the two younger boys. At their respective homes, Darren ground his still hard cock into the bedding, wishing he could cum again, but prevented from doing so by his own cock restraint applied by his friend. Johnny masturbated to another ferocious ejaculation, reliving the afternoon in the field house john, and the evening experience in the park toilet. He mauled his own prick, pounding it as he squirted a healthy boy load over his flailing fist, his bodying jerking and toes curling from the huge cum. Fuck he loved being in control of boys' cocks.

Chapter 11
Father Richardson Pays Pennance

On Saturday night, Brent and Amy baby-sat her younger brother and sister, when her parents went out to dinner and a show. While eleven year old Trey rubbed his boner into the sheets to give himself the third dry cum of the day for the horny blond tow-head with the big feet, his ten year old sister was in her room, rubbing her finger deep into her cunny, tickling her young clit to achieve her own orgasm before she went to sleep. Downstairs, the heat of impending sex was making the room warm. Once the kids were down in bed and asleep, Brent and Amy were lip locked on the living room sofa, his hand groping her desperately, and her hands roaming over his back and chest. Twenty-minutes later, Amy's legs were planted and spread at the edge of the sofa, with Brent on his knees eating her pussy like he was in a pie-eating contest, lashing her groove with his tongue, holding the succulent and soft lips apart so he could scoop out her juices and assault her sensitive clit. God he loved the look of her sweet trench, furred with blond hair that parted to reveal the ragged smooth lips. As his fingers had parted them, already wet with anticipation, he tickled and scratched until her hips were grinding on the sofa and splaying even further. When he placed his thumb on her stubby clit and rubbed back and forth as the fuck finger from his other hand sought her tight hole, Amy was whining, her eyes closed tight surrendering to the delicious sensation of being frigged by her handsome boyfriend.

Brent was successful in persuading her to let him give her pleasure and protect both of them by refraining from taking out his cock, in spite of the pain of having his restrained cock so erect under his shorts. It hurt even more, because Amy insisted on giving him some pleasure, so her hands danced over the erect mound, grasping his boner through both shorts and briefs, and frigging him. Unfortunately, Brent could only bite his lips in frustration, knowing that while he was leaking copiously into his briefs, Amy's sweet hand could only torture his fat cock knob, and not allow him to achieve ejaculation. Instead, he focused on giving her pleasure, his fingers pinching and plying her stiff nipples, and his tongue dipped between her sticky cunt lips, trowelling her groove and lashing her clit, Amy was helpless. For a brief time anyway, Brent was in control during sex, like he was when he was pitching on the baseball field. When he finally drilled his fuck finger up into Amy's tight cunt, and used his thumb along with his tongue, to lick, suck, and stroke Amy's sensitive labia and surprisingly large clit, Brent made her whinny and whine for more. As Brent's aching pecker drooled and throbbed in its prison inside his jeans and briefs, Amy squealed and grunted her way through several orgasms, "aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh… " turning from wholesome cheerleader to spread out slut, determined to get her cums. Her toes were pointed and legs lewdly spread as she ground her sticky, engorged cunt lips against Brent's relentless tongue and his sucking lips. God every nerve in her body tingled, and her tits ached as she squirted juice each time her pussy contracted and her clit throbbed… "aaaaaiiiiiiiiiieeeeeee." Brent went home later that night with the bluest balls, his almost fully erect penis leaking in its trap, but with confidence that he was still a man who could make girls beg for his attention. The taste of Amy's tangy cunt still on his lips and tongue. Soon, he would be learning to enjoy other tastes. Even as Brent was making Amy's toes point and curl while wave after wave of her orgasms rolled through her body, Johnny was at home working on another scheme to humiliate and debase the hunky teenage idol.

The day before Johnny had met with Brent and Darren in the Field House, Johnny had sent an e-mail to Father Richardson. Like the message to Brent, earlier in the week, Father Richardson's e-mail had carefully selected attachments of a video and pictures of the confessional encounter. The priest was shocked… and secretly excited, his cock hardening at the sight of the materials he had received. He sprung a raging erection as he watched Brent ejaculate over his stroking fist, and listened to his own words, taking control of the handsome teenager. He knew he was in deep trouble if any of this got out, but now he had a copy of what he had done with other boys. Moreover, there was more than one video.

Johnny discovered by chance that there were other boys (he forgot to switch off the motion detector in the confessional booths), that availed themselves of good Father's services. He recorded Father Richardson with the lanky star center of the middle school basketball team, Trevor Stockton. Trevor was fifteen and a half, but already 6' 3" [1.90 m] tall with size thirteen [eur 45] feet. Not a beautiful boy like Brent, Trevor was a strong, athletic redhead whose physicality made him attractive to girls and admired by other boys. But he was also awkward because of his height, and as a consequence he was very shy around girls. He had been jacking off since he was twelve, and learned how good a blow job could be at thirteen when he was sucked off by a sixteen year old camp counselor at a two week overnight basketball camp.

The counselor had taken Trev under his wings, and made the shy redhead blossom on the court earning the respect of the other boys. But part of the deal was coming to the counselor's tent at night after dinner to discuss moves and strategy on the court. Trevor was gullible and willing, desperate to develop skills that would make him someone to respect among his friends at school, instead of being the big, awkward 'Lurch' that he felt like. On the second night he visited the coach's tent, Trevor was given something in his soft drink that made him woozy and also made him horny. Before he knew it, he was on his back on the coach's bed his t-shirt over his face, his arms pinned over his head, and his oversized boy prick being sucked into two delicious ejaculations in a row. The coach had licked Trev from head to toe, suckling even on his big size ten [eur 42] feet, and the long, ticklish toes till the red-head howled for mercy.

For two weeks the bigger boy had taught Trevor how good it could feel to have someone else's hands and lips on every inch of his body. One night, when the coach was doing bed checks, he had come into Trevor's cabin and slid his hand under the sheets of Trev's upper bunk while the other boys in the cabin were sleeping. Trev woke up to the feel of thick fingers and a strong hairy hand sliding over his chest, tweaking his nipples, and down his stomach into his navel, and then into his sleeping shorts. The coach smiled as he found Trevor's big penis already hard and wet from the simple caresses, and he soon masturbated the big boy as he lay frozen in fear that someone would awake. The coach used both hands under the sheets, the fingers of one hand explored his torso, pinched his tits, drilled into his navel, while those of the other hand grasped Trevor's rampant erection. The boy was helpless, horny to distraction and unable to resist a hand on his constantly needy prick, he tried to control his desire to fuck the older boys's relentless fist. But he could not stop from driving his hips upward and thrusting his sticky prong into the older boy's firm grip. Slick, firm hands slid up and down his throbbing boy shaft and over and over his sensitive cock knob. Finally, Trevor uncontrollably lifted his hips one last time as the other boy's palm rotated over his bloated cock head wickedly, and he spurted boy milk into the sheets and blankets, writhing silently from the excruciating sensations until the counselor released his penis with another knowing smile in the dark, and left him gasping. Trevor had learned lots about basketball over the two weeks, and even more about his cock and its ceaseless needs.

It was luck that put him and Father Richardson together. He happened to go to confession, blurted out how horny he was all the time, how often he masturbated, and how difficult it was to get to know girls. That was when Father Richardson offered him salvation and a means of stopping his masturbation that was occurring two to three times a day. For the last three months he had enjoyed twice weekly sessions in the confessional where he came more than once. Fuck, the good divine had a magic mouth and talented fingers, and Trev had a cock that seemed insatiable.

The second video Johnny had sent to Father Richardson attached to his e-mail message was a clear film of Trevor standing in Chuck Taylor black canvas high tops, with his shorts and boxers at his ankles. Where the hair on his head was bright red, matching the freckles on his face and shoulders, the hair on Trev's big boy legs and arms was a thick strawberry blond fur. His body was pressed up against the empty frame where the screen should be, his extraordinarily thick seven-inch [18 cm] penis, erect and thrust through the opening. He was gasping and grinding his hips, lost in the delicious sensations being provided by the talented priest on the other side of the screen. His thin, pale foreskin was only partially retracted in spite of the full erection, and the wide piss lips were slick with he pre-fuck. Father Richardson had reached one hand through the opening and up under Trev's t-shirt, teasing his pale, red nipples through the thick strawberry blond hair on his pecs, the other hand was fingering under his balls to tickle the hairy, tight ass pucker, clenched from fear of invasion by a pesky, rooting digit. The priest's lips lowered down to the shaft, and slobbered over the cock knob, seeking a way for his tongue to slip under the delicate foreskin, as the big boy stabbed his erection through the hole searching for a lip lock by the priest that would suckle the cum out of his drooping and heavy-ladden testicles. In the end, Father Richardson vacuumed the fat cock head, and ran a fist up and down the shaft sliding the skin off and onto the tender, sensitive glans, until the big boy had squirted six long shots of teenage spooge down his throat. Then he had nursed the big red head into whimpers from his lashing tongue on the sensitive knob, keeping the boy erect the entire time, his hips thrusting and hunching to escape the priests greedy hold on him, and yet so intoxicated by the excruciating friction on his boy dick.

By the time Father Richardson had finished seeing both of his videos and the accompanying pictures, he was dripping in his briefs and unconsciously rubbing his boner under his robe, terrified of the words that Johnny had written and excited by the sex he had just seen:

Father Richardson, as you can see, I have pictures and videos of you engaged in sex with underage teenage boys in the church. I know there is more, and you can be sure I have copies of it on tape. You have one choice; to secure a room in the rectory where we can have privacy and preferably a large four poster bed. You will appear there in your shirt and collar and a pair of briefs. Please reply to this e-mail and indicate the proposed day and time.

When the boys arrived at the rectory on Wednesday a.m., Father Richardson took them through the empty church kitchen to a staircase that led down into the basement. In the basement were a number of storage rooms for old furniture, food stores, and one room that apparently had been the living quarters for the cook when the church had a live-in housekeeper for the priests in an earlier era. But the room had not been used in years. Father Richardson had made sure it was clean, the bathroom in working order, chairs to sit down upon, and the queen size four-poster bed covered with clean linens. He had even turned on the gas heater in the room an hour earlier to get the room warm enough to use. The other church fathers were out of the parish visiting a neighboring town on church business, and so Father Richardson had secured privacy for what was about to transpire.

Once they got into the room, and closed the door, Johnny took over. He instructed Father Richardson to strip down to his shirt, collar, and briefs as his message demanded. In spite of his obvious excitement, Richardson was still hoping to gain the upper hand and steer this gathering to his ends and needs. But Johnny was firm, wearing the dark glasses he had worn when he and Brent first met in his room, and now using a harsh voice of confidence with the knowledge and power his tapes gave him. Father Richardson, understanding his situation and not accustomed to boys speaking with such authority, hesitated then backed down. Though he protested he followed his instructions, and was soon standing in only his bulging briefs, his shirt and priest's collar, sheepish and embarrassed at his rampant condition. At thirty-one the Father still had a naturally athletic build, with well shaped, hairy legs. His fully erect penis gave his sexual excitement away under his briefs, and bolstered Johnny's cynical sense that he was fully in charge. A wry smile came over his face as he stared at the priest's discomfort, a smile that only made Richardson lose any hope of gaining control of the situation.

Next Johnny ordered both Brent and Darren to strip down to their briefs, which both boys did a bit apprehensively, erect and restrained in their respective cock sheaths. Johnny put down his back pack which contained the toys for use during the day, and a hand-held video camera to record the action. He remained dressed, emphasizing that he was in control though his prick throbbed under his shorts, leaking boy drips from the intensity of his own excitement. When they were ready, Johnny had Darren cuff Father Richardson's hands behind his back, and place a blindfold over the Father's eyes, again in spite of the priest's entreaties and admonishing. He had Darren secure the ends of a short wooden dowel to each of the priest's strong ankles, spreading them slightly apart. Then he had Darren cuff Brent's arms behind his back, and attach the wider spreader bar he had his friend bring from his house, to the big boy's ankles. Then Darren picked up the hand held video camera, plugged in the cord to an outlet and got ready to film at Johnny's direction. Johnny removed Brent's cock collar – (he had another one at the end of the day for the priest). When Brent saw the camera, he tried to speak to Johnny, but the younger boy held up a gag, and immediately Brent went silent and sullen. At the same time, his prick was again rock hard, betraying his sexual excitement much to his dismay. Every fucking time this punk kid had tied him up, Brent's cock had become a rigid boner, drooling pre-fuck. Resigned, he sat in a chair where Darren directed him, helpless to do anything.

Ready for his performance, Johnny gave a speech he had been rehearsing in the mirror at home: "Father, you're in big trouble. You betrayed the trust of our community. You have been taking dudes into the confession booths, and sucking their cocks, and masturbating them. Look at you, even standing in front of us now you've got a woody… your briefs are wet from your prick dripping. I bet you thought you were going to get us to let you suck our cocks today, huh… well, you may suck cock, but it's gonna be on my terms, not yours. And before you do anything, you're gonna get a spanking. Bring him over Darren."

Darren went over to the bound, blindfolded priest blubbering his indignations, and led him slowly to Johnny who was sitting in another chair in the room. Father Richardson shuffled slowly across the room, his bound ankles making him slide one foot forward followed by the next, unsure of his steps because of the blindfold. He tried to speak earnestly to Johnny, but that was no use. No one else spoke or responded to his pleas, and soon he was in front of Johnny. "Well, let's see how horny you are father… my dad says priests are married to the church… but if that's the case dude, you got one fucking set of blue balls, huh Darren?" Darren nodded sheepishly, afraid to say anything that would humiliate Father Richardson more, or get him in trouble with the church. But Johnny did not care, he knew the score. He was in charge. He reached up and roughly pulled down the priest's white briefs, and let them snap under his heavy, hairy balls. Father Richardson ample prick sprung up and out, wet with his excitement. The shaft was a thick six inches [15 cm] in length pointing straight up at a 45 degree angle, with a fat, mushroom cap and wide corona. Unlike the younger boys, his cock was ribbed with veins around the pale shaft, and the ruddy knob had a deep piss well, and a pebbled glans.

"Time for you to repent Father… lay over my knee."

Johnny and Darren helped the man lower himself across Johnny's lap, his legs straight out and split apart by the wooden dowel keeping them spread. His cock landed between Johnny's legs, and brushed up against the teen's shorts and his leg. With his arms cuffed behind him, and his briefs down below his firm, hairy buttocks, the priest was about to undergo his own exorcism at the hands of a thirteen year old punk kid.

Darrent was sent to get the video camera, and to set up from the side and the rear to focus on Father Richardson's body, especially his ass and his cock, rigid and thrusting against Johnny's leg. As the camera began to purr, Johnny's hand rose and both the camera lense and Brent's eyes were glued to it as it came down with a slap on the young priest's ass cheeks. Richardson jerked and gave a small yelp of surprise as Johnny's hand continued to rise and fall. "Whap, whap, whap, whap, whap…" the blows landing in succession, drove the divine's hips forward and his short, hard prick into Johnny's leg. Each time Johnny landed a slap, he let his fingers trail up the priest's ass crack, often sliding in between before he raised it again and brought it down. Father Richardson grunted each time he received a blow, but gasped and groaned more than once when Johnny's blunt fingertip slid between his cheeks, flirting with the hariy anal pucker hidden between. Secretly, the priest wished Johnny would plunge his finger deep up his hole, and masturbate him anally… but Johnny was not there yet. He just wanted to tease Richardson, and expose his insatiable sexual appetite. After twelve firm slaps on the priest's ass, the red butt cheeks were still firm and the priest's prick was on the verge of exploding. Johnny intended to drive him over the edge, but wanted to make it part of his humiliation… and then punishment.

"Hey Father, yer pecker is trying to drive a hole in my leg, and yer leaking all over the fucking place. You know Dar, we better see if the Father is okay. Put on the glove and bring the lube over…" Darren put down the camera, turning it off for the moment, and followed his friend's instructions. Under his blindfold, Richardson's eyes widened, even as he prayed for his wish to come true. He turned his head, and spoke to Johnny in a feeble and feigned attempt to stop what was about to happen. "My son, you've punished me, don't add to you sins and my own… please stop now… don't do this," he whined. But actually he was patiently waiting for whatever Johnny had planned, his cock throbbing in anticipation, in order to get the nudge he needed to relieve his aching boner still rubbing back and forth against the boys leg, keeping him so close and yet not near enough to cum.

Darren moved to the priest as Johnny directed, with a pair of surgical gloves on one hand. He opened a jar of Vaseline they had brought, and dipping his finger in, he coated the digit fully. Then Johnny spread the priest's firm, hairy ass cheeks, and exposed the brown, ragged lips of his anus.

Across the room Brent was entranced, his cock throbbing and drooling from the sight of the priest who had been in control of his cock a week ago, now sprawled across a thirteen year old kid's legs, getting spanked and soon finger fucked by yet another kid. He stared at the priest's cock, bobbing in search of some rough surface to make it spit ribbons of Catholic priest cum. Darren's long index finger found the button of Father Richardson's pucker, and began to gently scrape across it, not wanting to hurt the man. But this only made Richardson more excited, tickling the entrance to a hole that he longed to have fucked, and was already sensitive to any touch. "Aaaaaahhhhhh, no!, what are you doing Johnny, think of you soul…aaaahhhh, oh my God, no… … aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh… … oooooooowwwwww!" Johnny smiled broadly as Father Richardson's anal knot spasmed, and allowed Darren's insistent if clumsy finger to slide in. "OH NO… OH MY GOD… OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!? When Darren's finger bumped into Father Richardson's healthy and fat prostate, it sent the needy priest over the edge… and he howled in satisfaction as his cock ejected ropes of thick, tangy sperm, over Johnny's leg and onto the floor. The ass muscles gripped Darren's finger like a vice, clenching each time the bound priest ejaculated. "OOOOOHHHHHHH…AAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH! Johnny, was delighted… now he had the pretext he wanted to humiliate the priest even more!

Johnny's bare leg was coated with priest cum, a thick and copious load, slowly sliding through his leg hairs. "Kay Father, now get down on your knees, and lick up the cum you got all over me… fuck you spooged all over my fucking leg! Now get down there and lick it up!" Johnny moved his legs so the blindfolded, cuffed and hobbled priest would slide to the floor. When he didn't move to follow Johnny's instructions, the boy took a small fly-swat he brought with him and landed a strike across the Devine's firm ass cheeks. Richardson jumped, and immediately lowered his head, snarfing up the sticky residue of his ejaculation off the boy's leg, his head directed by Johnny's firm hand. "Yeah, that it's Father, lick up your scum, suck your own fucking crud instead of sucking the juice out of our boy balls… oh, yeah, that's it, get it all… taste good Father, like the taste of your own fuck sauce?" Richardson said nothing, but his tongue spoke eloquently as it searched every part of Johnny's leg for remnants of the ejaculation. In the meantime, the good Father had sprung another woody, his boner hard and leaking again, in anticipation of having more sex with the boys who were now supervising his cock.

As Father Richardson finished his humiliating task, Johnny spoke again to Darren. "Good work Dar, now let's take our buddies into the bathroom… so they can piss before we start." They led Richardson's mature form, and Brent's perfect teen proportions into the small bathroom. There they grasped the two men's penises, aiming them at the toilet bowl standing next to each other so that they not only had to watch each other pee, but watch as each other's penis was held by one of the boys. Johnny put his free hand to good use, taping the scene and the expression of humiliation on Brent's face, and Father Richardson's when Darren took off his blindfold. The Father's was already hard from the spanking and his fat helmet, like Brent's was wet with clear juice. Brent's bow was also fully erect, and the touch of Johnny's hand only exacerbated his condition. It took ten minutes for the two men, standing side by side, shackled and hobbled to piss while their cocks were held, and they were caught on camera-but they finally made it through the ordeal. When the last drops of urine trickled into the bowl, both Johnny and Darren shook the meaty cocks, and then thumbed the big prick knobs, making Brent and Richardson shudder and sway from the sweet sensation, their cocks throbbing from the combination of their humiliation and their slutty excitement at their situation.

As the boys led them back into the bedroom, each toyed with the captives already stiff nipples, gently pinching and scratching them, and at the same time, jerked softly on their pulsing boners. It looked so hot to see these hobbled men with their erect peckers bouncing in front of them, shuffling to the middle of the room, occasionally hissing and hunching from the tweaking of their sensitive teats. Then Johnny spoke: "Brent, the last time you and the priest were together, he gave you a big cum, but you didn't do anything for him. We're gonna change that today. Get down on your knees dude, now." Brent gave Johnny his customary "aw dude, please don't make me do this" look, pleading with his eyes and expressions, but already at the point where he did not say the words. Johnny just shook his head, and pointed to the floor… that's when Father Richardson stepped in one more time, hoping against hope to take charge by cowing the young teen.

With a firm voice of clerical authority, he spoke up: "Johnny – my son, please don't do this. I was working with Brent and other boys to prevent them from the sin of self-abuse, and to preserve their honor with women… don't humiliate this boy for trying to save himself in the eyes of God."

Johnny looked at Father Richardson with a look of incredulity that belied his age… "Aw common Father, don't give me that crap. You saw the video I sent you… were you sucking Trevor's cock to 'save' him in the eyes of God?"

Brent wheeled around and looked at the priest with total shock as he listened to Johnny's comments. Brent didn't say it, but he was thinking "Trevor Stockton, the big dude on the middle school b-ball team-I can't believe it… Father Richardson is like the middle school cocksucker." But the priest was not going to stop, he needed to try and wrest control of the situation from this thirteen-year old kid.

"My son, this is wrong… no matter what you think I have done, this is wrong. Please release me, now." But Johnny had expected that an adult like Richardson would try more than once to intimidate him, and make his plan fall apart. The same tactic he used to keep Wes from trying to scare Darren he would use to keep Father Richardson quiet – a gag. In the case of the priest, though, he would make him feel like a slave… not a victim. He nodded to Darren who went to the bag and pulled out a ball gag made from a whiffle ball and velcro straps. In seconds, Darren had the priest gagged, and only air hissed from the holes in the whiffle ball as he protested, and tried to speak. In addition, he had Darren clip two wooden clothes pins on the priest's firm, pointed tits. Johnny returned to Brent… "get down dude, you don't want us to go off on you." With Darren's help, the big boy went down to his knees on the thick area rug on the floor, his spreader bar still attached, and his cock still hard and arched up, continuing to leak as usual.

Johnny walked over to the bound and gagged priest, and grasped his still erect boner, its tip sticky with excited emissions. The thirteen-year old thumbed the fat cock tip yet again, making the priest hunch and tremble from the delicious friction of the boy's grazing finger pad. Then Johnny took hold of the penis, and aimed the slightly smaller but still bloated head towards Brent's handsome face, and rubbed it against the bigger boy's cheek. Brent closed his eyes, and moved his head, trying to avoid contact with another man's sex organ, but Johnny pulled Father Richardson a foot [30 cm] closer, so the six inch [15 cm] prong now would have access to Brent's entire face. Darren followed Johnny's orders, and got down on the floor between Brent's spread thighs, using one hand to hold the fifteen year olds strongly arched wiener, and using his other hand to gently slide his fist up and down the shaft, occasionally palming the bulging glans soaking in Brent's copious pre-slop. Each time Darren's rough fist, barely making contact with Brent's shaft, would graze the throbbing boy boner, Brent would groan out loud and thrust his hips in search of more contact. Johnny sure knew the dude. Who would have guessed that a good looking, athletic dude, like Brent would be such a horny fuck..wanting his dick rubbed and stroked all the time. But it did not matter, whatever Johnny said was what went… and Darren was throbbing in his own briefs still locked in his cock cage, leaking himself from the excitement of dominating these older guys and making them perform as sex slaves.

Johnny used Richardson's pulsing prick, leaking more and more, and after basting Brent's complete face, his nose, his eyes, his chin and Adam's apple, he took the fat glans and rubbed it across Brent's lips. Brent whose eyes were closed was whimpering from a combination of Darren's tantalizing masturbation and the humiliation of having another guy's dick rubbed across his face. Suddenly he opened his eyes wide as the bloated member coated his lips with the priest's sticky residue. He couldn't keep quiet any more, and spoke in pleading tones to Johnny… "Aw shit dude, please, don't do this Brent, don't put his thing against my mouth… common dude, please… I think I'll be sick, don't do it, pleeaaaassse. I've done everything that you wanted, don't make me taste his crud… please dude, please."

But Johnny could see Brent's erection throbbing and continuing to leak as Darren's fist slowly jacked the big boy penis in spite of his protests, and Brent was breathing deeply and without any hint of gagging. He wasn't going to be sick, that would interrupt getting his prick jerked… no he'd complain but he'd take it. Johnny ignored the boy's pleas, and as Brent spoke, deftly slid the Father's thick cock knob into Brent's protesting mouth, across his tongue and held it there. Brent gasped, and gagged slightly, unable because of his shackles to move. The Father's firm, fat glans rolled over his tongue as he tried to speak to insist that Johnny take the cock out of his mouth. "Ooooop… it…, ooooooo, ghhhhhet daaaaat iiiiinnng ooowwwwt a mmmaaaahhhh moooouuufth… " Instead, the vibration of his voice and the movement of his tongue, swirling to help form words that were lost against the sticky boner, only made the priest hiss through his gag from the ticklish sensations and even move his hips to get more contact from the wet, soft mouth. Fuck, it had been a while since Father Richardson had his prong soaking in the mouth of a teenage boy, and the sensation was making him forget every vow he had made to the church. "Aaaaahhhhhh" the Father moaned, glad to feel Brent's mouth on his aching prick, especially its sensitive knob. For ten minutes, Johnny kept the priest's pulsing boner just inside of Brent's mouth, making short fucking motions to both stimulate the helpless priest, and to torture the resisting teenager. He ordered the jock hunk to lave the tingling penis with his tongue, and as he reluctantly did so, Father Richardson groaned in lustful satisfaction, unable to hide his shameful enjoyment of the teen cocksucker's efforts: "aaaaaaaahhhhh… yessssss, oh God forgive me… … aaaahhh, oh, it's so good…ooooohhhhhh, my sweet Jesus… Aaaaaawwwwwww!" Eventually, Brent gave up trying to speak after a couple of minutes, and his tongue tentatively lashed the pebbled corona of the divine, making it throb and tickle even more from the delicious contact, eliciting squeals of pleasure from the older man.

After this exercise in controlling Father Richardson and humiliating Brent, Johnny was ready for the next step. He had Darren help Brent up from his knees, and took the shuffling father, once again attempting to speak through his gag, to the queen size bed. He had the father sit on the edge, and then he and Darren lifted the priest's shackled and spread legs up and pivoted him to the center of the bed. Then they loosened his cuffed arms and slipped them into velcro restraints they had put on the two posts at the head of the bed. Now the Father was stretched out in the center of the bed, spread-eagled because of his legs were attached to the spreader bar. Then they used longer rope to loop through the ankle restraints on the bar, and hoisted the Father's legs up towards his head, forcing his back to arch. They shoved a firm pillow from the one stuffed chair in the room under his lower back to support him, then let his knees dangle down towards his head, tying the bar to the top posts of the old wrought iron bed. Father Richardson was now doubled over, his hairy ass pucker open and spread for all to see, his turgid boner jutting towards his face, still wet and hard.

Then the boys unhooked Brent's spreader bar and placed a blind-fold over his eyes. They helped him up onto the bed. Johnny instructed him to climb over Richardson's chest, and lower his ass onto the Father's face, with his torso and head facing toward the bottom of the bed. When he was in position, they unbuckled the priests gag, and then lowered Brent so that his hairy, but clean ass hole, was over the divine's mouth. That way they didn't have to gag the priest, Brent did it for them. Then they slipped Brent's spreader bard under the priest's neck with a towel to protect him, and tied Brent's ankles back to the bar now under the Father's neck, leaving Brent's hands cuffed behind his back. Father Richardson smelled the musky scent of Brent's boy hole, sullied only by the ball sweat and ass sweat between the hairy cheeks. It was intoxicating, and helpless to resist the masculine aromas, he automatically slipped his tongue out of his mouth and began attacking the muscular anal knot and hairy veil that protected Brent's rectum for unwarranted intrusions. Brent gasped the moment the soft, wet tongue scraped across his sensitive anus, and his toes flexed reflexively from the sweet sensation of the muscular tongue, stabbing and lashing his boy pussy.

Darren got up on the bed, and following Johnny's instructions, he slipped his right index finger into Brent's mouth and told the fifteen year old baseball jock to suck it. With his other hand, he toyed with Brent's stiff tits, tickled his Adam's apple and scratched into the big boy's ears. The distractions allowed Johnny to fasten around both Brent's and Father Richardson's coronas under their respective glans, circlets of pliant, soft wire soldered to long, insulated connecting wires, attached to Johnny's old electric train transformer which was plugged into an outlet next to the bed. While Brent's big boy prong curved up wickedly from his crotch, Father Richardson's stiff boner aimed down towards Brent's. Johnny then coupled both cock knobs together with a circlet, while their respective cock knobs were bound with the electric coils. Within seconds as Father Richardson lapped and wriggled against the grinding anus of the middle school star in his effort to enjoy a pleasure he had not had in months, Johnny turned up the voltage on the electric train transformer. A low level electric buzz zapped through both erect organs, making their cock heads expand, and pre-cum to drool out from the intense tingling sensation. But since both cock heads were tethered together, the movement of both men made them grind against each other's sensitive glans, helplessly masturbating each other from the current making them shake and twitch. Both were caught off-guard and both began to moan, one into the ass that now muffled his entreaties, and the other out load from the awesome sensation of the current vibrating his prick to the core against the other stiff erection.

Since Brent was able to speak his groans were music to Johnny's ears: "aaaaaagggghhh, oh man, dude, what're doing… aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, it's buzzing my dick, ooooohhhhhh, fuck, what is that…aaaaaaaahhhhhhh, I can't stand it, oh Fuck, ah shit…, aaaaaaaggggghhhh."

Father Richardson could not be heard clearly, but the good news was that his tongue thrust straight out, and speared the tender anus of the boy jock. "Mmmmmmmpppppffffff… uuuuuugggghhhhhhh… ooooggggghhhh." The more the priest tried to speak, the more his lips caressed Brent's sensitive anal opening, making the ragged cleft clench and spasm around the wriggling intruder.

That brought even more from Brent: "Fuck, Father, stop moving you mouth…Christ, what're doing…, it's inside, aaaaawwwwww, no, it tickles, stop, aaaagggghhhh…, I can't control it… fuck, shit…oh jesus… my dick, my ass… aaaaaahhhhh!"

Coupled with Darren's furtive fingers, moving here, there and anywhere they could elicit sexual stimulation from Brent, the big boy was dissolving into a teenage buck in heat. He began to bounce gently on the Father's face, grinding his anal pucker over the roving lips and intruding tongue. His strongly curved curved cock was rigid, leaking streams of his pre-ejaculate and throbbing from the buzzing electric current coursing into the prong just under the flared knob, and his nipples were stiff and aching as Darren's wet fingers twisted, plucked, and scratched them. The electric current was focused right where Brent's circumcision scar rested under the glans, making the bloated cock knob throb from an unbelievable sensation. As Johnny watched the helpless jock on the bed, his cock spasmed in his briefs and spurted out the streams of boy juice that were pent up in his balls. He could not stop himself, the excitement of having the priest, Brent and Darren all under his thumb and performing for him was too much. He closed his eyes, momentarily as his cock pulsed through its orgasm. The sound of his transformer buzzing, the jerking, helpless Brent with his cock rigid but unsatisfied pulsing against the priest equally hard prong, had sent him over the edge. But it stayed hard, and the he forced himself to stay focused, not wanting to stop the incredible scene before him.

The same tingling that drove Brent to distraction was making Father Richardson buck his hips and lash out with his tongue as he made a futile attempt to beg Johnny to stop the buzzing of his cock knob. The brunt of the tingling was focused on his corona, reverberating through his loins, all the way to his toes, his finger-tips scrabbling where they were tethered over his head, his lips and even his teeth feeling the low level electric charge buzz through them. His cock head expanded every five to ten seconds, throbbing for release, but unable to achieve it at the voltage set.

Johnny watched as both Brent's toes, and the good father's, curled and crimped from the tingling running through their bodies. But he had one more special surprise for Richardson. He took a small metal dildo, five inches [12½ cm] long but only one inch [2½ cm] wide, and circled it at the end with wires that were attached to a small battery pack. He lubed up the front of the bullet nose head and reaching between the priests legs, under his heavy sweating balls, he used a lubricated index finger to gently worm into the Father's sensitive anus. Richardson yelped when he felt the finger intrude into his bowels, and in his frenzy, his tongue thrust deeper into Brent's tender teenage fundament. Brent's finger drilled in, seeking the hard fuck nut that he knew lay inside. Then he took the paint brush he had used on Wes, and swiped it across Richardson's prick head as his finger fucked in and out of the bound cleric. When the already over-wrought priest felt the scratching sensation of the brush bristles across his pusling glans, he reflexively let go of his sphincter and Johnny was able to slide the little prod he had fashioned up into the hot furnace of Richardson's rectum. The priest groaned and for a moment lost concentration on the sweet agony of his bristled glans already buzzing from the electricity, but when Johnny switched on the battery pack and the little bullet shaped prod came to life, wriggling and whirring up the young priest's fundament, he nearly fainted. The nose of the prod rested against the priest's thick prostate, and when it started to hum, he lifted his mid-section off the bed in spite of his shackles, and his lips went into high gear on Brent's anus just from the yelling. "AAAAAiiiiiiieeeeeeee, Aaaahhhhhhh, NNNNnnnnnnnnooooo… Gggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrr", Father Richardson groaned as the buzzing in his ass merged with the one around his throbbing glans. The Catholic slut priest, Father Richardson was getting the kind of punishment he deserved, and ironically, that he craved.

"Yeah Darren, check it out dude, look at 'em go… " Johnny laughed as both Brent and Father Richardson writhed and bucked helplessly in their bonds, their erect organs covered in coating clear pre-sap, pulsing from the electric current running through their cock heads, and the stimulation of their butt holes. Johnny used a cut down paint brush on each of the two throbbing peckers and within five minutes, the two grunting males, the thirty-year old priest and the fifteen-year old jock hunk had reached the moment to wail: "AAAAAAIIIIEEEEE, AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, OOOOOOHHHH FFFFFUUUUUUCCCCCKKK, NNNNNNNOOOOOO, AAAAAWWWWW GGGGOOOOODD HHHHAAAAALLLLPPPP AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!" Neither one had ever experienced something so intense. Every fiber in their bodies was rigid and the whole world seemed centered at their assholes and cock heads! Then the explosion!

Brent could not control his own flexing cock, the knob flared going glass smooth, then the deep, long piss lips opened, spitting out ropes of boy crud, as the electric current continued to buzz the helpless glans. "Nnnnnoooool… stop, no more, aaaaaahhhhhhh, yer killn' me…dude, stop! STOP!…aaaaeeeeeeiiiiiiii!" But even as he squealed, his penis kept throbbing, spitting, and drooling, draining every bit of the cum to satisfy the boy's unquenchable sex lust and the relentless and merciless machinations of the electrical devices. Johnny let the soft, but firm, bristles in his hands dance around the bloated cock heads and when Father Richardson heard Brent cum, his penis followed and he began joining Brent's exclamations and cries. Johnny stood mesmerized as the mature priest's piss lips opened wide, and long, thick spurts of adult nut cream burped out, his penis remaining painfully erect and strummed by the bristles and current as he ejaculated. "MMMMMMPPPPPHHHHH, AAAAAAAAAEEEEIIIIIII… mmmmppppphhhhhh!" he yelled into Brent's hairy crack. Johnny's hand stayed one track with both ejaculating organs, making sure to work their flared cock knobs as they spewed cum, high and far.

As their cries turned hoarse and became groans, Johnny kept the bristles of the two brushes gliding back and forth over the thick cock heads, but softly, just grazing them lightly, adding to the excruciating tickle on the peckers of the two bound captives being artificially kept hard after their ejaculations by the electric current running through them. For sixty seconds after they had ejaculated, Johnny tickled their aching glans and coronas while he left the electricity running on both cock heads and up Father Richardson's rectum. Their gasps and weary groans of sweet agony filled the room, but their hard dicks never flagged. Then he mercifully switched the transformer and the battery pack off, and both men gulped for air, their bodies trembling, and their cocks shuddering from the overwhelming sensitivity. In the meantime, Darren had left off his stimulation of Brent's body, and picked up the video camera, carefully making sure to keep Johnny's face out of the scenes, and filming as the two men's cock were masturbated after their cums.

Johnny had succeeded once again, and Brent McDermott, middle school jock stud had cum like a champ, his teenager body designed to spew sperm like there was no tomorrow. Now he had an adult, and a priest of all people, to help him in his schemes, and to follow his orders. Plus, the priest shot cum like a punk kid, spewing his gism high, and never going soft. Before they left, he had Father Richardson suck Darren's complete body from the sensitive boy toes, to the even more sensitive boy ears. He had his friend strip and lay out on the bed, arms and legs spread, and the divine, was instructed to start at Darren's big boy feet, and suck and lick up his body, eventually ending at his anus and then his long suffering cock knob. Johnny had uncaged Darren, and the boy bounced his ass on the bed as the voracious priest's lips locked under his corona per Johnny's instructions and vacuumed the young teen's pulsing prick head. With a shout, Darren came, reaching up unconsciously to force the Father's head down on his cock, but unable to pry it loose after he had finished spitting his boy spunk, and the priest was allowed to torture the captive cock knob for a few minutes, while Darren writhed and squealed on the bed, begging Johnny to make the sucking Richardson stop. Johnny just smiled, and jerked his own hardened boner, enjoying every minute of Darren being held captive by the horny priest's talented mouth and fingers, helpless to escape them. And all the while, Johnny's video camera kept shooting.

Then he had the Priest get on his knees on the bed, and lean backwards to rest on his palms, forcing his chest and still erect cock, to thrust outwards. The he told Brent get on the bed and masturbate the cleric until he ejaculated into his free hand. After ten minutes of his rough palm, calloused from throwing baseballs, Brent coaxed another load from the priest's cock as the devine whined and gasped staring at the beautiful boy masturbating him. Brent followed each instruction Johnny gave, stroking over Richardson's already sensitive and abused cock knob till the priest wailed for relief, and stripping down the thick cock stalk until he had captured all of Richardson's cum in his other palm. He looked to Johnny to see what he should do with the white, viscious goo on his palm, and then cried out when Johnny told him to lick his palm clean. "That's sick," he shouted, "no, I wont' do it, that's the final fucking straw, I'm not gonna lick up this queer priest's crud… shit, common dude, don't ask me to do it… no, hell no… please… Christ, gimme a break!" That was a big mistake, because Johnny knew he had to prove that he was ultimately in control. In angry tones he ordered the priest and Darren to help him tie Brent out on the bed and gag him with the ball gag he had used on the Father earlier. Brent tried to resist, but Johnny told him that one more outburst or any resistance, and he would send Brent's photos out just as he got home. Brent, did as he was told, and Johnny had Darren get a spoon and scoop up the gism on Brent's palm, then stick it in the teenager's resisting, protesting mouth. Brent gagged, but swallowed, and allowed the three to secure him to the bed.

Then all three picked up small, soft bristled tooth brushes, and began at different parts of Brent's body. Darren was at his feet, the priest at his face, neck underarms and nipples, and Johnny took his abs, his navel, his balls, asshole, and of course the big boy cock. Once in place, and ready, he removed Brent's gag so he could gasp for as much air as he needed. At Johnny's command, the bristles descended in union, attacking the muscular teenage hunk with one hand, and using the other to tickle and stimulate him as well. In seconds they had turned him into a bucking bronco, begging and pleading for his life.

"IIIIIEEEEEEEEE… Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha… … NO, NO… OH GOD, I'M SORRY … PLEASE, DUDE, JONNY, CHRIST, HELP… AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH, NO, NO…FATH…ER… RICH…ARDSON… [he gasped] HELP ME… AAAAAAAAGGGGGHHH, NO, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA… … Darren was devastating on Brent's big boy feet, separating the toes, getting under the balls of his feet, and into his instep and on the soles. Brent's powerful feet, that pounded the baseball field, were pale and helpless before the onslaught of the wicked tooth brushes. And Johnny took delight in slowly ascending the curved mast of the boy's slender but rigid prong, gradually making his way to the circumcision scar, the wide corona, and the bulging glans. The priest was cruelly working on Brent's Adam's Apple, under his nostrils, in his ears, and over his wriggling palms. Johnny flailed his head, waved his hands and curled and uncurled his toes in a pitiful attempt to escape his punishment for disobeying Johnny. But he was trapped, and Johnny determined to make him an example to the priest and to Darren. Words stopped coming from Brent's lips, instead he just squealed and laughed until his cock erupted again, and Johnny's fist closed around it one last time to milk and work it, till Brent promised he would never resist Johnny again, his ass grinding into the bed as if trying to bore a hole to escape Johnny relentless palm. Then he was forced to lick up his own spunk out of spite for his earlier refusal, and this time from Johnny's fist, gagging, but completely consumed.

Before they left, Johnny made the priest get up on the bed, and masturbate with one hand while the boy's watched, and filmed. It was the final humiliation for the priest, who firm body rocked from the sensations of his own fist working one more load from his sticky prong, forced to concentrate again on his over-wrought knob. Then all three were locked into their respective cock restraints. Johnny's cock was the last serviced, by all three men, on their knees, till he spurted a load onto their faces and shuddered from the delicious pleasure. Even as he finished, he smiled broadly in his triumph in anticipation of his next session, milking their unruly boners, and making them do his bidding.

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