Date: Sun, 20 Aug 2006 19:09:03 +0000
From: Trevor Martindale <attaboy-jo-jo@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Trevors Three Challenges - Part 3/3

All the usual disclaimers apply. The following story is
entirely fictional and contains explicit descriptions of
sexual activity between adult males and minors. READ NO
FURTHER if you are under the age of eighteen or offended by
such material.


Trevor's Three Challenges - Part 3/3 (M+/t, Anal, Oral)

By Trevor Martindale


As planned, Howard and I met outside the Ben-Hur cinema the
following Saturday morning. We walked to the car and talked
in some detail about the condition of my `love hole', and
whether it was ready to take on another gang-bang. Howard
then informed me that our planned visit to the cottage was
cancelled. Instead, we were off to see old Victor.

The bicycle repair shop had clearly seen better days. There
were no new bikes for sale and the inside of the shop was
dark and dingy, and littered with dozens of dilapidated
bicycles.

The shop had once been owned by Otto Glaser. Unfortunately,
Otto had died years ago, leaving Victor, his son, to run
the business into the ground. Victor was far more
interested in boys than bikes. However, he did use the
business as a cover to employ Saturday boys: young lads
that were paid to help out in the shop, but in reality
spent their working day upstairs, posing for pornographic
photographs.

Victor and his friends had converted the upstairs stockroom
into a studio. They would invite a boy to stand under the
lights, take off his clothes and have sex with others in
front of a camera. Most of the boys were recruited by Ian
and Joe, who worked as carers at the local children's home.
Other boys were recruited by Brian, a local scoutmaster.

Victor paid me ten shillings a day to work as a Saturday
boy. I would have done the job for nothing, but as Howard
explained, my parents needed to be convinced that I was
there to earn money, not to have sex. My mother was very
taken with Victor when she met him, and told me he
certainly needed some help in that shop of his ^Ö the sly,
old fox had told her that it was Otto, his father, who had
let the shop go to rack and ruin. He also told her that I
was working in the shop to earn enough money to buy a
second-hand bicycle, which was news to me.

Howard and I entered the shop and were immediately waved
through to the back by Stan, who was standing behind the
counter fiddling with a dynamo. We climbed a narrow flight
of stairs and entered the stockroom on the first floor. The
room was extremely large and separated into three areas:
the one to the left had a black leather settee at its
centre; the one to the right had a large double bed; and
the area in the centre was filled with an untidy array of
lighting stands and camera tripods; and intermingled
amongst this equipment stood three naked men and a boy.

John acknowledged me with a wink and a smile as he stood
listening to Brian's plan for the next session. Apparently,
prior to our arrival, John had seduced the boy on the
settee, stripped him naked and licked his eleven-year-old
cock into shape. The next session would see the two of them
move across to the bed and go at it like rabbits.

`Fucking thing,' said Victor, as he continued to fiddle
with the tripod that was refusing to hold the 16mm cine-
camera in place.

The boy - a small, innocent-looking redhead with freckles -
stood beside Victor holding a near empty bottle of Pepsi-
Cola in one hand and a large jar of Vaseline in the other.
Initially, I was taken aback by this rather surreal scene;
however, I soon accepted the odd reality of the situation
when Howard told me to `get with it' and `get undressed'.

The stockroom was now occupied by four naked men, one naked
teenager, and one naked eleven-year-old boy.

`Well, bugger me,' said Victor, throwing his arms up in
delight. `Young Trevor's brought us some good luck. The
fucking thing's stayed put this time.'

`I told you to use another tripod, dozy,' rebuked Brian.
`We've got three of the bloody things around here some
place .... And what happens when you need to change the
fuckin' film!'

Brian looked at me and mumbled something uncomplimentary
about Victor under his breath. He then switched on the
photofloods and waited for John and the boy to step into
the limelight.

`Okay, let's get this show on the road,' said Victor
cheerfully. `And don't forget, Darren. I want to see that
cock of yours really hard by the time I zoom in for the
first close-up.'

The boy smiled as John came up behind him, kissed the side
of his neck and squeezed his tiny arse-cheeks. Brian put a
reassuring hand on Victor's shoulder to let him know that
they were still friends; and as he did so, Howard signalled
that he and I should get out of the way and stand over by
the curtained windows, which offered a better view of the
developing sex romp.

John and Darren were quick to get into their stride. The
young redhead was being held in a gentle embrace and urged
to stroke his pencil-thin cock, which was some four inches
long and uncut. John stood behind the redhead and firmly
pressed his cock and ball-sac into the small of the boy's
back.

`Ace,' said Victor, with a tremor in his voice. `That looks
so sexy.'

`Kiss and cuddle him some more,' suggested Brian. `And play
with his nips ... He likes that.'

John did as his friend suggested, which prompted the boy to
nestled back into his lover's arms and give out a low moan
of satisfaction. Everyone else in the room, including me,
had a hand wrapped tightly around his own erection ^Ö the
sight of a full-grown man having sex with a prepubescent
boy was far too stimulating to ignore. The young scout's
body was small and slim, with prominent shoulder blades and
a ridged backbone. His silky smooth skin was stretched drum
tight over his slender rib cage, and punctuated by tiny,
hard-standing nipples. In contrast, John's body was large
and muscular, and fit enough to fuck a whole camp full of
scouts.

`Okay, Darren,' said Brian. `Bend forward and let John's
tongue go to work on that lovely bum-hole of yours.'

The boy spread his legs, leaned forward and placed his
hands flat-out on the sheet covered bed. He then turned and
smiled directly into the camera's lens as John knelt down,
eased his arse-cheeks apart and began licking his `lovely
bum-hole'.

`That's it, that's it,' Victor enthused. `It's a pity we
haven't got the other camera up and running. We could have
done with a close-up of both the head and the tail.'

`Just concentrate on the tail shot,' said Brian, patting
Victor's right buttock with his free hand. `You're no Roman
Polanksi.'

`Maybe we should invite Polanksi to direct our next film,'
said Victor. `We could call it "Prick in the Water", or
"Prick in the Arse", or maybe something a little more arty-
farty.'

`Just concentrate on the tail shot,' repeated Brian
wearily.

Howard and I stood by the curtained windows and watched
Darren's body tense, relax, and then tense again in
response to John's probing tongue. I became very envious of
the redhead when I heard him cooing and sighing with such
intensity. However, my envy soon vanished when Howard told
me to spread my legs, leaned forward and take hold of my
knees.

For some ten minutes Darren and I were treated to an
exhilarating and mind-blowing bout of rimming. My whole
body quaked with excitement as Howard used the tip of his
tongue to keep me pleading for `more, more, more' ^Ö just
like Darren was doing on the end of John's greedy tongue.

`That's it, Howard,' said Brian. `Get Trevor ready for the
four o'cock rock. We can fuck him on the bed later, after
John's finished poking Darren.'

I looked up and saw John and Darren separate, clamber onto
the bed and re-engage in a sixty-nine position. The cine-
camera zoomed in to capture a superb close-up of the boy
struggling to cope with John's eight-inch cock ^Ö his mouth
was simply too small to accommodate the whole thing in one
go. Unfortunately, I missed out on what happened next. My
head dropped and I gave out a howl of satisfaction -
Howard's tongue had struck gold and I was right there to
cash in on the lucky strike.

I grasped my knees until they hurt; I shook my head until I
was dizzy; and I kept saying `don't stop' until I was blue
in the face. I was on cloud nine and my five-inch cock,
which was aching for relief and bouncing around in mid-air
below my belly, was on cloud ten.

`What a horny little fucker,' said Brian. `He certainly
likes all that attention you're giving him, Howard.'

`Don't over do it,' added Victor. `We don't want him
shagged out before the big event.'

I shuddered with excitement as my imagination conjured up a
vivid image of the `big event': I was going to be fucked by
dozens of big, burly men. They were all waiting outside the
stockroom door, on the staircase, and they were all naked
and extremely.... A hard slap on my right thigh brought me
suddenly back to reality.

`Come on, tiger,' said Howard. `Let's fool around on the
settee .... It'll be more comfortable.'

`But,' I said in a disappointed huff.

`No buts!' chide Howard. `The settee awaits us.'

>From the glint in his eye, I knew that Howard was expecting
me to reward him for all the hard work he had put in so
far; and sure enough, the instant we were on the settee he
assumed the position and invited me to use my tongue on his
`love hole'.

`That's it, tiger,' he cooed, as my tongue probed the
little starburst between his arse-cheeks. `Keep doing....
Ah! Yes, yes, yes-s-s-s.'

Meanwhile, on the bed, John and Darren were locked in a
passionate embrace. The camera had been moved to a new
location, to get a better view of the action, and Brian and
Victor were waiting for John to end the scene by turning
the boy on his front and spreading his legs apart.

`That's great, John,' said Brian. `Now in the next scene I
want to see you climb aboard and take the young scallywag
for a ride .... And don't worry about being too hard on
him, he can handle it.'

As John reached for the Vaseline, Victor announced that he
needed a couple of minutes to replace the film in the
camera; a task which, when complete, didn't cause any of
the problems Brian had envisaged earlier.

With a new film in the camera, Victor signalled to Brian
that he was ready to resume filming.

`Okay, everybody,' said Brian. `Let's get this show on the
road. We have a hole to fill and an audience to please, so
chop, chop.'

Darren sniggered and braced himself for the scene ahead. He
had been fucked a good many times before, but never by a
cock that was as big as John's. Brian usually teamed him up
with boys from the children's home, although he had been
fucked by a rather large dildo once.

The film in which he and the dildo had shared a scene
together was based on one of Brian's abduction and rape
fantasies. Three teenagers and a man, a Fagin-type
character, jumped him in the park and carried him off to
their liar. The gang stripped him naked and took turns in
sucking his cock. The teenagers then tied him to a Long
John coffee table and, before fucking him with the rubber
dildo, helped the man redden his arse-cheeks with a leather
strap.

Darren winced when John's cock-head entered his arsehole.
The memory of the dildo and leather strap made him shudder
as the Vaseline coated cock pushed its way into his rectum.

`Spread those legs apart, boy,' boomed Brian. `And don't
look so glum. It's good to have a cock up your bum.'

Victor looked up from the camera and gave an exaggerated
sigh: he had heard the same old line a hundred times
before. Darren was too preoccupied with John's lust for his
arse to take much notice of the joke. He just shut his eyes
and grimaced when the man's powerful buttocks began to
hammer his body into the mattress.

Because of all the attention he had received from John,
Darren was far too exhausted to watch his replacement being
stretched out on the bed and fucked in turn by Brian,
Howard, Victor and Stan. All four men managed to put me in
the same exhausted state as the redhead. In fact, Darren
and I spent a good hour recovering on the settee while the
men drank beer and discussed their sexual prowess.

* * *

It was raining when Howard and I arrived outside the small
block of flats in Winchester Road. Graham, Howard's friend,
lived on the top floor, so I had to trudge up three flights
of stairs to make his acquaintance. The dark-haired man was
in his late fifties and wore ugly, wire-rimmed spectacles.
He welcomed us into his flat with a broad grin, then took
our coats and led us down the hallway and into a large
living-room.

The curtains in the living-room were drawn and an 8mm film
projector stood on a stand behind the sofa. In front of the
sofa, some twelve feet away, stood a portable screen on a
tripod. Graham said he had just finished setting up the
equipment and couldn't wait to see *all* the goodies on
offer. This announcement prompted Howard to put his hand on
my shoulder and tell me to find the bathroom, strip off and
freshen up.

Graham was reeling-up a film on the projector when I walked
back into the room. The presence of a naked fourteen-year-
old boy in the room didn't do his blood pressure much good.
The poor man was totally bedazzled by my naked charm, and
could only stand and stare as Howard, who was sitting in
the middle of the sofa, beckoned me over and told me to
climb aboard. I felt so wicked sitting on my friend's lap
and stretching out along the entire length of the sofa,
resting my head on one armrest and my feet on the other.

My cock began to twitch the instant the lights went out and
the film began to roll. On screen, a naked teenage boy was
being bound and gagged by two men dressed in black leather.
The teenager, who had no hair around his genitals, was hung
upside-down from the ceiling by his ankles: leather ankle-
straps attached to a metal leg-spreader and chain held him
suspended in mid-air.

He hung there, completely helpless, as one man slapped his
arse-cheeks and the other squeezed his ball sac. The two
men then spun him round and round so that they could both
slap his arse as it passed by.

I was totally mesmerised by this extreme form of sex. I
found the concept of a teenager, like myself, being held
captive in this way very arousing. The leather straps and
rope restraints didn't turn me off at all; in fact, they
actually strengthened my determination to seek out this
form of sex for myself.

With the images on the screen becoming more extreme by the
minute, Howard invited Graham to get down on his knees and
suck in my hard-standing cock; and as he did so, a jet of
sperm hit the back of his throat.

Graham certainly knew how to prolong the life of a climax.
My whole body shuddered whenever the tip of his tongue
visited the most sensitive parts of my knob. The man had
latched onto my cock like a limpet, and he wasn't going to
let go until he had drained my ball sac completely dry.

My dreams were filled with images of leather-clad men for
weeks after that first visit to Winchester Road. The mere
thought of being restrained and trained by such men made
the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I was hooked
on bondage and needed to know more about it. Unfortunately,
my search for information produced nothing of any real
value, so I decided to return to Graham's flat and ask for
his help.

Graham was only too happy to assist a fellow enthusiast.
His collection of pornography contained all the bondage
information I needed. However, his offer of help did come
with a few strings attached: first, I had to be naked at
all times during a visit; second, I had to obey his every
instruction; third, I had to address him as `Sir'.

I agreed to all three conditions in an instant and made an
arrangement to visit the flat the next day. As ordered, I
arrived at noon and stripped off in the bathroom. The
action-packed film show lasted all afternoon, and as
before, I lay on the sofa with Graham attached to my cock
like a limpet.

My next visit to the flat included a stay in the holding
cell, which in reality was a converted walk-in cloakroom.
The cell's heavy wooden door had been painted light grey to
match the colour of the concrete walls and ceiling; and the
only item of furniture in the cell was a high-back wooden
chair, which had been bolted to the concrete floor and
painted black.

Spending time in the holding cell was a very uncomfortable
experience. I sat naked and cold in the darkness from 10am
to 1pm; and to add insult to injury, a dozen or so ropes
held me securely in place: with one rope looped around my
head several times to form a rather crude but effective
gag.

When Howard arrived, I was released from my bonds and sent
off to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I was then ordered
into the spare bedroom and told to sit on the end of the
bed with my feet apart; and as I did so, Howard knelt down
in front of me and fastened a pair of leather straps around
my ankles. The straps were then secured to a metal leg-
spreader and tied to the legs of the bed with rope.

With my legs held fast, Graham told me to lie back on the
bed and spread out my arms. The two men then fastened
leather straps around my wrists and secured them to the bed
with rope.

`Right-tee-ho,' said Howard, holding up a black leather
blindfold that was padded and shaped like the Lone Ranger's
mask. `With this on, you'll be ready for the party.'

`Party, what party?' I asked.

The two men laughed as Graham took hold of my cock in one
hand and my ball sac in the other.

`We've invited a few friends over for an afternoon of
debauchery. And guess what! You're going to be the life and
arsehole of the party.'

Howard's words echoed in my ears as the blindfold was
placed over my eyes. The crafty old sods had set me up good
and proper. They were going to pimp me out to all their
friends, and I was in no position to object.

`I must be home by five,' I said. `I told my mum...'

`Yes, yes, yes,' interrupted Graham dismissively. `You'll
be home by five o'clock. I promise.'

`Come on, Graham,' said Howard, opening the bedroom door.
`Let's leave the lad to stew for a while.'

Outside, a clap of thunder signalled the beginnings of a
storm that would rumble on for hours. I could hear the rain
beating against the window as I tested my bonds and tried
to make myself more comfortable. Unfortunately, Graham and
Howard had ensured that this wasn't going to be an easy
thing to do. The ropes and leather straps around my wrists
and ankles had been fastened real tight, and before leaving
the room Howard had looped a rope around the base of my
cock and tied it securely to the leg-spreader.

I lay on the bed for what seemed like forever. I could
hear, over the sound of the mounting storm, muffled voices
in the hallway from time to time, but no one came into the
room. I began to think that Graham and Howard had forgotten
about me. Some party, I thought. What if the two old
sods...

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the
bedroom door opening and closing. I strained to hear if
someone had entered the room, and sensed that they had.

`Nice,' said a voice. `You're all trussed up like a real
chicken.'

I was as scared as I was excited, and my whole body shook
when the man's hand closed around my semi-erect cock.

`This feels nice. Do you want me to lick it into shape?'

`Y-y-yes, please,' I replied gratefully.'

`Okay. But you must suck me off first; that's the rule.'

The man clambered onto the bed and took up a sixty-nine
position above me. From what I could feel, he was
completely naked and very hairy. His cock was pencil-thin
and bone-hard; and when it entered my mouth, it just kept
going.

`No slacking now, boy,' he said sternly. `Take it all in!'

I gagged when his ball sac cut off my air supply ^Ö my nose
was being crushed under his body weight and there was
nothing I could do about it. I though about biting his
cock, but decided against it: I sensed that he was the type
of man who would enjoy doing the same, or worse, to me.

I rattled around in my bonds and tried to break free. It
was then that he finally raised himself up and let me suck
in some fresh air. However, a few minutes later I was back
in the same position again.

`Come on, boy,' he snapped. `If you don't do it properly,
I'll be obliged to piss down your throat.'

I gagged again as I tried to service his needs in the best
way I knew how. The man cut off my air supply three more
times before coating the back of my throat with sperm. He
then declared that I was a slacker and promptly left the
room.

The next man to enter the room was Ancient Harry: a man in
his seventies who couldn't get it up any more. He kept me
on the brink of a climax for ages, and filled my head with
vivid stories of how, when working as a teacher, he had
persuaded dozens of boys to get naked and have sex with
him. He then went on to tell me about the orgies he had
attended, and how Graham, a fellow housemaster, had turned
some of the boys in his care into obedient sex slaves.

Harry untied the rope around the base of my cock and told
me to beg for relief. I gratefully complied, and in
addition, promised to take good care of all the cocks that
were waiting outside the room to shag me that afternoon.
Harry immediately went back to work on my cock with his
tongue and lips; and as he did so, a deluge of sperm
erupted from my knob and disappeared down his throat.

I recall raising my head off the mattress and whooping like
a monkey as the old man took care of my needs. My whole
body shook as his fingers gently caressed my ball sac,
encouraging it to give up more and more of its seed. He
continued to milk my ball sac for several long minutes; and
when he had finished, my cock was just as hard-standing as
it was before the climax.

I mumbled a few words of grateful thanks as Harry loosened
my bonds and told me to get some rest. He then left the
room.

>From the sound of it, the storm outside was getting worse.
A sudden clap of thunder made me start as I tried to settle
down and recover my strength for the forthcoming fuck-fest.
A favourite fantasy then began to drift through my mind as
I lay in the dark listening to the rain beating against the
bedroom window.

In my fantasy, which was loosely based on `The Coral
Island' by R. M. Ballantyne, I was Ralph Rover, a cabin boy
shipwrecked on a South Sea island with two friends: Jack
Martin (18) and Peterkin Gay (14). Ballantyne wrote in the
book that the three lads `...became the best and staunchest
friends that ever tossed together on the stormy waves'.

With the storm over and the ship lost, the three of us
found ourselves on a sandy beach with nothing but an axe,
an oar and a telescope - all else, including our clothes
had disappeared beneath the waves with the Arrow. Over the
next few days we quickly discovered lots of things to do
with our time as we explored the island and each other's
naked bodies.

On one exploration, Jack and I spotted two war-canoes
approaching the island at speed. Two naked black men in the
foremost canoe were being chased by a larger canoe
containing a dozen or so naked warriors. When the canoes
reached the beach the two men were run to ground, spread
out on the sand and repeatedly raped by their fearsome
looking captors.

Following their ordeal, the two men were tied together in a
sixty-nine position and forced, at spear point, to suck
each other's cock. Meanwhile, a group of five warriors were
dispatched by Lloyd, the chief, to secure the canoes and
make camp. It was then that a warrior collecting firewood
discovered Peterkin lurking in the bushes some distance
away from where Jack and I were hidden.

The fourteen-year-old boy tried to escape but tripped on a
tangled root and was seized by the arm. He tried to reason
with the warrior as he was thrown over the man's shoulder
and slapped hard across the buttocks.

The cannibal continued to slap Peterkin across the arse-
cheeks as he walked back to the makeshift camp. Jack and I
looked at one another in disbelief and concluded, in a
whisper, that Peterkin's rescue would be impossible to
achieve. Therefore, we decided to keep our heads down and
see what happened to our young friend.

The two cock-sucking captives were forgotten in the
warriors rush to welcome back the man carrying Peterkin. A
cheer of joy went up as Lloyd ran his coal-black hand over
the youngster's smooth, white bottom. Peterkin knew his
fate was sealed - the cannibals would rape him for sure,
then spit-roast him over an open fire. The captain of the
Arrow had told him all about the natives of the South Sea
Islands. `They like to tenderise their food before they eat
it, son,' he would say.

Jack and I watched as Peterkin was lowered to the ground
and forced to stand in the centre of the group. Every inch
of the youngster's body was then squeezed, fondled and
stroked by the men around him. Fingers were pushed into his
mouth and rectum as the warriors pinched his nipples,
squeezed his arse-cheeks and fondled his ball sac.

Peterkin moaned and fluttered his eyelids when a long,
black finger entered his inner sanctum. The warriors around
him smiled as he sucked hard on the finger in his mouth.
Peterkin wasn't stupid: he knew that the chief and his
underlings might want to keep him around if he co-operated.
He could become their special bum-boy, the white-skin who
loved to suck black cock.

Peterkin dropped to his knees and sucked each warrior's
cock in turn, ensuring that no one was left out in his
enthusiasm to become their special bum-boy. Jack and I
could see the logic behind our friend's plan, but believed
it was doomed to failure.

A few minutes later, Lloyd broke away from the group and
scanned the irregular line of palm trees and bushes that
bordered the beach. He believed that there were more white-
skins hiding in the undergrowth, and so, taking up a spear,
he decided to investigate. Jack and I panicked when we saw
the chief running up the beach toward us. We knew he
couldn't see us, but still we broke cover and headed inland
like frightened rabbits.

A loud war cry went up behind us as Lloyd called upon his
men to join the hunt. Jack and I decided to split up and go
our separate ways. We hastily agreed to stay away from our
camp and head for the other side of the island. Needless to
say, we were both captured within the hour.

The man who stayed behind to look after the cannibals'
dinner was busy tenderising Peterkin's bottom when Jack and
I were carried into camp. Like captured deer, we each hung
from a long wooden pole by vines tied around our wrists and
ankles. And to make matters even worse, the four warriors
shouldering the two poles had dragged our arse-cheeks
through every kind of prickly bush on the trail.

We were unceremoniously dropped on the ground and tied
together in a sixty-nine position. It was then that the
bedroom door opened and someone said, in a rather excited
voice, `Lumme! Look at that stiffy'.

`Now gather round you reprobates,' said Howard, clapping
his hands together to gain everyone's attention. `This is
Trevor, the young man with "the stiffy".'

`He's a nice looking lad,' said a man on my left. `I like
`em skinny and blond.'

`Yeah, he sure is skinny,' said another man on my left.
`How old is he, Gee?'

`Fourteen,' replied Graham.

`Nice to meet you, Trevor,' said a man on my right, as he
took hold of my throbbing cock and gave it a hard squeeze.
Another man did the same as Howard was congratulated on his
new find.

`Release those straps from the leg-spreader, Tom,' said
Howard. `Let's get his legs up in the air.'

Someone tightened the ropes that secured my wrist-straps to
the bed and made sure the blindfold I was wearing was still
doing its job. I then felt two pairs of hands take hold of
my legs and lift them up into the air - the image of a
giant wishbone being broken in two suddenly flashed through
my mind.

`Get his arse up,' said Howard.

George and Tom, the two men holding my legs, doubled my
body over and held it in a jack-knife position, with my
arsehole pointing up at the ceiling.

`Look at that ball-sac,' said Tom. `It's so round and...'

`His arsehole is the real prize,' interrupted George.

`That's true,' agreed Howard, as he ran the tip of his
finger over my bum-hole.

I lifted my head off the mattress and gave out a long, low
moan of pleasure, which I repeated when Howard ran his
finger over my anus again.

`That sounds so fuckin' sweet,' said Don. `C'mon, let me
have a go.'

Don eased my arse-cheeks apart and used the tip of his
tongue to replace Howard's finger. I gasped and tugged at
my wrist-straps when the tongue sent a shockwave of
pleasure surging through my body. I had never felt anything
like it, and was keen to experience the sensation again,
and again, and again.

`Hold him steady,' barked Howard. `We don't want him
bouncing off the bed and out of the room.'

`Look at him go,' said Graham. `The little sod can't get
enough.'

The sensation had swallowed me up whole. My entire body
ached, and yet I was quite happy to stay bent over and let
the man work on my bum-hole with his warm, wet tongue.

Suddenly, Don stopped what he was doing and released my
arse-cheeks. My cock twitched and bounced around in mid-air
as I raised my head up and implored him to continue.

`You've turned him into an addict, Don,' said Tom. `He'll
be bending over and spreading his arse-cheeks for everyone
now. Ain't that right, son?'

`Yes, yes,' I said breathlessly.

`Okay, Trev,' said Don. `Once more round the block; then
we get to fuck you.'

George and Tom tightened their grip on my legs when Don's
tongue went back to work on my anus. My whole body buzzed
with excitement as the sensation suddenly returned and
wiped me out for a second time. And then, when a bottle of
poppers was waved under my nose I lost it completely and
began drooling at the mouth like a silly boy.

`Fuckin' hell,' said Tom. `He's having a fit.'

`Cobblers,' snapped Howard. `He's just over excited.'

`Yes,' added George. `The poor sod's in need of a good old
fashioned gang-bang. So let's give him one.'

I was still on cloud nine when the first of the five cocks
entered my well rimmed hole. It slipped in effortlessly -
thanks in the main to Don's hard work and a good coating of
Vaseline on the stem. With my legs now bent at the knees
and held less securely, I was in a far better position to
take on a five-star rogering.

`C'mon, Don,' said Tom. `Keep pounding that sweet little
hole. I want to see it red raw by the time I get a taste.'

I shook my head from side to side and groaned as Don
increased his stroke rate and began power ramming my `sweet
little hole'. Every inch of my body was now dancing to his
tune. I was there for his pleasure, and that's why my cock
was leaking so much pre-cum and threatening to shed its
load unaided. I was being fucked by an alpha male with an
insatiable appetite for the weak and willing, and boy, was
I weak and willing!

Graham and Howard were totally mesmerised by Don's vigorous
performance. They watched, green with envy, as his powerful
buttocks pounded my body into the mattress.

`Look at him go,' said Graham.

`Yes,' added George. `The man can fuck for...'

It was the words `Yes! Yes! Yes!' that interrupted George
in mid-sentence. Don had reached a climax and was eager to
share the news with everyone in the room, if not the entire
block of flats. I began to tug at my wrist-straps and whoop
like a monkey as he released his seed.

George was quick to step into the breach and take over from
his exhausted friend. His hard-standing cock slipped into
my bum-hole with ease; and although it didn't stay there
for long, it did leave quite an impression.

`Any objections to turning the lad over?' asked Tom, who
was next in line to take me for a ride. `I want to bum him
doggy style.'

`I'd like to fuck him that way, too,' said Howard.

`Okay,' said Graham, `release those straps, turn him over
and get him up on his hands and knees.'

Of course, I had no say in the matter. However, I did
welcome the change of position - being bent over double
wasn't doing me much good in the old aches and pains
department.

`Okay, chaps,' said Tom. `I'm going in, so wish me luck.'

Several men laughed as Tom took hold of my hips and pushed
his cock deep into my rectum. I felt his cock-head enter my
inner sanctum and rub against my prostrate gland. He then
began power ramming my hole for all he was worth.

`C'mon you slack bastard,' barked Howard. `Tighten those
arse muscles and give the man a ride to remember.'

I thrust out my arse and clenched my anus as tight as I
could, which did prompt a grunt of approval from Tom.

`Give him some more poppers, Gee,' said Don. `He might need
a little boost.'

Graham opened the bottle of amyl nitrite and waved it under
my nose. My head began to swim the second the vapour hit my
sinuses.

`That's it, Trev,' said Don. `Let the nice man fuck your
arse and fill it up with spunk.'

My head dropped as I gave out a low moan of satisfaction. I
didn't want this moment to end, but Tom had other plans.
His climax wiped me out completely; and as sweat poured
from my body, he thrust forward and filled my rectum with
semen.

I collapsed onto my forearms and used the bed sheet to wipe
away the sweat from my face. It was then that Tom's cock
was withdrawn and replaced by another hard-standing member.

Howard fucked me like a man possessed. He slapped my
thighs, pulled on my hair and called me all the names under
the sun. My rectum was now awash with four different lots
of semen.

Graham was more of a sucker than a fucker, so when his turn
came my shattered body was spared another full-blown
rogering. Instead, I was treated to a fuck-suck fest.

He pushed his hard-standing cock into my well lubricated
hole and kept it there while someone wiped me down with a
damp towel. He then told me to lie flat out on the bed,
which I did by collapsing onto my front as his body covered
mine.

Graham kissed the back of my neck and playfully bit my
right shoulder as he humped me slowly. The tiredness in my
arms and legs quickly vanished as his cock gently rubbed
against my prostrate gland. In just a few minutes he had
breathed new life into my body.

`How does that feel, son?' he asked.

I mumbled a few words of grateful thanks and sighed when he
suddenly raised himself up and removed his cock.

`Now turn over, son. I need to take care of that cock of
yours.'

I didn't waste any time in complying: my poor cock had been
neglected for far too long. It had been throbbing and
twitching throughout the entire session, but no one had
touched it until now. Unfortunately, it was only in
Graham's mouth for a few seconds before it released a
deluge of semen that nearly choked the man.

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Copyright, August 2006

All comments welcome (attaboy-jo-jo@hotmail.co.uk)

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