Date: Tue, 20 Mar 2007 14:54:28 +0000
From: Trevor Martindale <attaboy-jo-jo@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: The Uncouth Youth - Part 3 (M+/t, Oral, Anal)

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.


The Uncouth Youth -- Part 3 (M+/t, Oral, Anal)

By Trevor Martindale


Looking extremely nervous and uncomfortable, Malcolm sat on
the sofa in Paul's living-room nursing a near-empty glass
of red wine. The married bisexual was clearly having second
thoughts about going through with the good doctor's plan.
He had been persuaded by Paul to become a bondage slave for
the day, and in return, he would be allowed to have sex
with a sixteen-year-old boy.

Initially, Malcolm had readily agreed to be tied up and
examined by the good doctor - he so wanted to have sex with
the young cock-sucker sitting opposite him in the armchair;
and if that meant being tied down on a bed and having his
rectum probed with surgical steel, then so be it. The only
problem now was that he didn't have the nerve to go through
with it.

Paul had suggested the bank clerk bring his eight-year-old
son along to the flat. The young scallywag had been sucking
on his dad's cock for almost a year now, and Paul thought
the boy could do with a little more variety in his life.
Malcolm had been tempted: the thought of having sex with
three teenage boys, while his son sucked on a gaggle of
cocks in another room, had dominated his dreams for a week
or more. However, being the guilt-ridden wimp he was, he
rejected the idea in favour of the shrink's alternative
suggestion ^Ö sex with the one teenage boy and a bondage
session.

'Did you hear what I said, slug,' said Paul. 'Put the glass
down, stand up and strip off. I want you to take off all
your clothes and remove any jewelry you have on - that
includes the wrist-watch and wedding ring.'

'I don't think...'

'You don't think, period!' snapped Paul. 'You simply stand
up and undress. Young Trevor here wants to see you naked.
He wants to suck on that nice looking cock of yours. So put
the glass down and stand up.'

Malcolm tried to focus on the man doing all the talking.
Everything in the room began to blur as the drug began to
take hold of his nervous system. 'Yes, I must take off my
clothes,' he mumbled to himself. 'And I must...'

'Do exactly as you are told,' interrupted Paul, stepping
forward and taking the glass away from the bewildered bank
clerk. 'Now stand up and get naked.'

Malcolm tried to lift himself off the sofa, but flopped
back down again.

'Help the fool stand up, Trevor,' sighed Paul. 'He'll be
able to do things for himself in a minute or two; he just
needs to get used to operating in a lower gear. I may have
put too much trank in his wine.'

'He did need calming down, sir,' I said, grabbing hold of
Malcolm's left arm. 'He was as nervous as hell before the
pills kicked in. Besides, he really needs to be relaxed
before that thingamajig enters his bum-hole.'

'Yes, the *banker* was about to bolt. I could see it in his
eyes. Still, I don't think he will want to disappoint me
again after today, and who knows, I may even get to play
with that little boy of his next time.'

'That's so pervy, sir,' I said, grinning. 'Shall I help our
guest to undress? The poor sod ain't gonna do it by
himself.'

'Yes, I want the both of you naked and performing in front
of the camera before Craig and the others arrive.'

Paul's flat occupied the whole of the top floor: the two
flats originally planned for the floor had been converted
into one during the building's construction. Therefore,
there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a study where
a kitchen would have stood. Three of the four bedrooms were
used to entertain guests at the weekend - Paul liked to
have two or three slaves tied down before Craig arrived
with his entourage.

The good doctor maintained the same hold over all three of
his bisexual slaves. Each had agreed to be tied down and
examined by the shrink in exchange for sex with a teenage
boy. Unfortunately, the trank in their drink had fogged
their judgement and allowed Paul to obtain their permission
to take a few Polaroids of the sex-romp. These compromising
photographs were then used to encourage the men to turn up
on a regular basis and be fucked by Craig & Co.

Paul didn't see anything wrong in blackmailing this group
of closet bisexuals. 'It's all part of their therapy,' he
would say. 'The photographs are simply a spur to get them
to do what they secretly want to do. The fact that they
have no say in the matter is irrelevant.'

The psychosurgeon loved to play mind games with his slaves.
He would fill their heads with all kinds of psychobabble
about the benefits of using bondage and humiliation as
tools to satisfy their sexual cravings. For instance, if
they saw themselves as hapless victims, being forced into
having sex with bully-boy men, they could step into the
lion's den and avoid the guilt-trip by telling themselves,
'It wasn't my fault. They forced me to suck cock'.

Unfortunately, once tied down, the hapless victim suffered
far more abuse than he had originally signed up for. The
shrink had a thing for holes - he drilled holes into the
heads of his patients at the hospital, and then filled them
with tiny radioactive rods. The man loved playing around
with holes, especially those that belonged to his slaves.
He used a variety of surgical steel probes to examine their
ears and nostrils; he filled their mouths with inflatable
rubber gags; he used catheters on their cocks, and then
went to work on their arseholes with an assortment of metal
and rubber implements.

A slave never forgot the first time he was examined by the
good doctor, and thanked his lucky stars that his drink had
been spiked before the examination began. Every orifice was
violated two or three times by the psychosurgeon; and then,
when the examination was over, he was given another trank
and handed over to Craig & Co.

The trank [tranquillizer] Paul favoured had no name, only a
number. It had been withdrawn from medical trials at the
Brook because it had unusual and somewhat embarrassing side
effects - patients who took the drug became extremely horny
and lost all their sexual inhibitions. They also became
confused and susceptible to suggestion, especially if sex
was involved in any way.

*  *  *

Malcolm stumbled into the bedroom and headed straight for
the bed. He still felt a little disorientated as he spread
himself out on the rubber covered mattress. The journey
from the living-room to the bedroom had been a precarious
one: he had taken a wrong turn at one point and walked
straight into a wall, sending a lithograph crashing to the
floor in the process. He had also hurt his right arm when
he collided with the bedroom doorframe.

I leapt onto Malcolm's back the instant his body hit the
rubber sheet. I playfully pressed my groin into his arse-
cheeks and pretended to hump him. The horny sod managed to
throw me off after a few minutes, and then tried to wrestle
me into submission. The two of us rolled back and forth
across the bed as we groped each other in all the right
places.

'Come on, slug,' said Paul, stepping up to the king-size
bed with his SLR camera. 'Lie back and let Trevor suck on
that hard-standing cock.'

Malcolm's face could clearly be seen in the viewfinder as
the flash from the camera bounced off the bedroom ceiling.

'No photographs of the face, as promised,' said the shrink,
lying. 'Now spread those legs apart and let the lad have a
go at that scrummy looking seed-sac.'

I sucked heavily on the hairless ball-sac, which was giving
off a highly intoxicating aroma. I then lifted it up and
focused on the anus beneath. The tip of my tongue probed
the swelling until I pushed forward and buried my face into
the narrow arse-crack.

Malcolm gave out a long, low moan as I lifted his legs high
into the air and began rimming the entrance to his inner
sanctum. I spread his arse-cheeks apart and held them there
as I grazed on his anus, ball-sac and swollen cock-head.
Like an unwavering disciple, I worshiped at the altar of
life until my master ordered me to help him restrain his
new slave to the bed.

The cock-sucking romp was interrupted for some five to ten
minutes whilst straps were fitted to Malcolm's wrists and
ankles, and then secured to the four corners of the bed
with rope. I eagerly returned to sucking on the man's six-
inch stem as Paul checked that every knot had been tied
securely.

'Ease up a bit, Trevor,' said Paul. 'We don't want our
guest to shed his load too soon. He might not have enough
oomph in him to fuck you later.'

Malcolm gave out an angry grunt when I suddenly released
his uncut cock and left it swaying, like a flagpole, in
mid-air. The man looked mighty aggrieved that my tongue and
lips were no longer grazing his shaft and ball-sac. So, in
way of an apology, I clambered off the bed and blew him an
over the top air-kiss.

'Fetch me my Gladstone bag, Trevor,' ordered Paul. 'It's in
the study, on the desk.'

'Yes, sir,' I replied, grinning.

Paul's examination of Malcolm's ears began the instant I
returned with the bag. The poor sod began to sweat and tug
at his bonds as the first metal probe entered his left ear.

'Hold still, slug,' snapped Paul. 'I could perforate your
eardrum if you don't keep your head still.'

'Sorry, sir,' whimpered Malcolm.

The pencil-like probe was soon replaced by a flexible metal
tube, which had a tiny light bulb at one end and a battery
pack at the other. Paul used the torch-like probe to look
inside both ears. He then used a metal syringe, filled with
warm water, to cleanse the ears before they were stopped up
with plastic earplugs.

Malcolm's nostrils were scrutinized next. The bank clerk
clenched his teeth and closed his tear-filled eyes as a
dozen or more nasal hairs were cruelly wrenched from their
anchorage by tweezers.

A few minutes later the good doctor put down the tweezers
and inserted an inflatable butterfly gag into Malcolm's
mouth. I watched the slave's rosy-red cheeks puff up like a
hamster's - it was quite entertaining watching him cope
with the rubber gobstopper.

'That's far too much air,' said Paul, releasing the valve
on the squeeze bulb. 'Let's try again.'

The gag was deflated and inflated several more times.

'Excellent,' grinned Paul. 'Our guest won't be choking on
the gag now; although his jaw will ache a little tomorrow.'

'Are you going to blindfold him, sir?'

'Yes, of course. I don't want him seeing how many cocks
I've invited along to the fuck-fest. The poor fellow might
have a heart attack.'

With a padded blindfold covering his eyes, Malcolm's upper
head was wrapped in a two-inch wide rubber binding, which
ensured the blindfold and earplugs stayed in place. He
could still breathe through his nose, but every other hole
in his head was either covered or stopped up with plastic
or rubber.

The catheter was just about to enter his urethra when the
telephone in the hallway rang.

'Damn it all,' growled the shrink, throwing back his head
in exasperation. 'It better not be Craig; and it better not
be Henderson.'

Paul stormed out of the bedroom, leaving me with explicit
instructions to 'Look, but don't touch'.

'Calm down, Henderson,' said Paul, gripping the telephone
handset tightly. 'Run amok! Who has run amok?'

I stared intensely at Malcolm's flaccid cock. It looked so
tempting, so mouth-watering tempting.

'Why didn't you sedate him when you had a chance, and where
were Stupid One and Stupid Two when the bell rang?' snapped
Paul into the mouthpiece. 'I told those two retards to keep
an eye on him over the weekend.'

I squeezed my hard-standing cock and stepped closer to the
object of my desire.

'Yes! I'll be there within the hour. And Henderson; don't
do anything else to exacerbate the situation. Have I made
myself clear?'

Paul slammed the handset down and made his way back to the
bedroom.

'Right, change of plan,' he announced curtly, collecting up
the tools of his trade and dumping them into the Gladstone
bag. 'I'm off to the hospital to help my incompetent junior
rectify a serious breach of procedure. You stay here and
look after chummy.'

I looked at Malcolm's outstretched body and squeezed my
cock even harder.

'Can I tease and torment his cock, sir?'

'Yes, yes, but don't let him choke on that butterfly gag.
And release him from his bonds when Craig and the others
arrive.'

'Yes, sir,' I said, grinning. 'I'll take real good care of
him.'

'And don't let him get too excited. Your bottom will glow
for a week if he sheds his load before I return from the
hospital. Understand?'

'Yes, you can rely on me, sir.'

'I do hope so, Trevor. I do hope so.'

*  *  *

I found a ball of twine and a plastic hairbrush some five
minutes after Paul had left for the loony bin. The brush
was cylindrical in shape and covered in sharp, nylon
bristles; the twine was dark gray in colour and made of
hemp.

It took me less than a minute to get Malcolm's cock fully
erect and straining for action. The uncut shaft began to
twitch fitfully as the twine was looped around its base and
tied off with a simple parcel knot. The cock and ball-sac
were then enclosed in a tightly wound sheath of dark gray
hemp - I carefully eased back the foreskin as the sheath
was being formed and used another knot, fastened securely
behind the ridge of the swollen knob, to stop the restraint
from unraveling during the stretch.

The remainder of the twine was passed through a metal ring,
which was attached to the light fitting in the centre of
the ceiling, and left to hang in mid-air until my return
from the kitchen. It was then cut to length, pulled tight
and tied securely to the neck of an unopened bottle of
Chateau Latour.

Malcolm's body twitched erratically as the hairbrush rolled
slowly over his cock-head. He pulled desperately on his
wrist-straps as the nylon bristles stabbed repeatedly at
his engorged knob. I took great delight in using the brush
to tease and torment the poor sod for some fifteen minutes;
it felt really good having so much power over him.

The target of my next torment was the soles of his feet. I
used a sturdy leather strap to soften them up before they
were introduced to the exhilarating caress of the brush.
Malcolm's head bobbed up and down, and then rolled from
side to side as the brush's caress intensified. He clearly
had sensitive feet.

Emboldened by the success of my previous two torments, I
picked up the offcut of twine, cut it in two and used one
length to tie the toes of his right foot together, tightly.
The second length of twine was then interlaced between the
toes of his left foot and tied off even tighter. I then
decided to stretch his cock a little more by setting the
bottle of wine in motion, swinging it back and forth like a
pendulum.

It was then that the doorbell rang.

*  *  *

The opening edge of the front door hit me full-square on
the forehead as Craig and his friends burst into the flat,
drunk - the five of them had decided to meet in the Royal
Oak before the planned fuck-fest at Paul's place. I was
sent flying and hit the wall with an almighty thump. The
sight of a naked sixteen-year-old boy, with a raging hard-
on, sent the men into an uncontrollable frenzy.

The front door slammed shut as I was pinned against the
wall by five inebriated men. My air supply was cut off
several times by hands pressing against my throat; my bare
feet were trampled on by a variety of shoes and boots; and
my nipples were pinched and pulled by some pretty powerful
fingers. I tried to struggle free when my cock and ball-sac
were pulled in two different, and painful, directions.
Unfortunately, this act of defiance only made matters
worse.

'Come on, sunshine,' said Neil. 'Let's make a fight of it.
I like hurtin' young scallywags who don't wanna play ball.'

'Ease up, Neil,' said Craig. 'He's only had a couple of
rough-sex sessions so far. I think five onto one might be
too much for the lad. Besides, we have another wimp to look
after today.'

'I want to look after this long streak of piss,' snapped
the inebriated Welshman. 'Lunty and I will fuck him up
hills and down dales while you three take care of his pal.'

'Fuck off, you Welsh git,' were the words I was hoping to
hear from Craig, but he remained silent as Neil pulled me
away from the wall by my cock.

'He's a nice looking boy,' said Lunty, running his fingers
through my hair. 'Let's find him a comfortable bed to lie
on.'

Craig and the other two men stepped back sharpish as I was
frog-marched along the hallway by Neil, who was pulling on
my cock, and Lunty, who was holding my hands behind my
back. I didn't say a word as I was pushed and pulled into
one of the spare bedrooms.

'Stand with your feet apart and your hands behind your
head, fingers interlocked like,' ordered Lunty.

I did as I was told. This was clearly the calm before the
storm.

The two men circled me, like sharks.

'Craig told us you've been humped by that loon, Lance
Worthington,' said Lunty. 'How was it?'

'Not good. The bastard nearly bit my ear off the last time
he shagged me.'

'Don't you like being roughed up then, sunshine?' asked
Neil.

'It all depends on who's doing the roughing up.'

'Oh my, we have a prima donna on our hands,' said Neil to
Lunty.

Suddenly, and without warning, Lunty punched me in the
stomach. I doubled up and stumbled back into Neil's arms.
The burly Welshman grabbed me, and then held me in a full-
nelson while his friend punched me in the stomach again.

'I'll bite your fuckin' cock off if you start acting all
lardy-da with me,' snarled Lunty.

'Is that clear, sunshine?' added Neil.

Winded, I tried to reply by nodding my head, but Neil's
grip made it impossible.

'I can't hear you,' said Lunty, punching me again.

'Yes-s-s,' I spluttered, as Neil released me. 'I didn't
mean it in that way. I'm no prima...'

'Button it, arsehole,' interrupted Neil. 'Now get on the
bed and start playing with yourself.'

I spread myself out on the stripped-down bed and took hold
of my flaccid cock. The two men watched me intensely as
they undressed.

'Now I need to punish you with this,' said Lunty, holding
up a twelve-inch, wooden ruler. 'My old teacher always used
a wooden ruler to punish me when I was naughty. What did
your teacher use?'

'The same,' I lied, sycophantically.

'Good, good; so you're happy for me to punish you with this
little beauty?' asked Lunty.

'Yes, sir,' I lied again. 'But I ain't no prima donna,
honest I ain't.

'No excuses now,' said Lunty. 'You did wrong, so you must
be punished properly.'

'Yes, sir.'

I thought the man was going to use the ruler on my hand.
However, I was taken completely by surprise when he pulled
my hand away and whacked my hard-standing cock instead.

'Fuckin' hell!' I shrieked, sitting up abruptly. 'That
fuckin' hurt.

The second blow brought tears to my eyes as Neil ensured
that I didn't try to cover my genitals with my hands. He
then had to use some considerable force to prevent me from
fending off the third blow.

I was still f-ing and blinding when they rolled me over,
onto my front, and began punishing my arse-cheeks and the
soles of my feet. I buried my face in the mattress and
yelled at the top of my voice as the ruler went to work on
my backside and feet.

'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' I continued to yell when the ruler was
replaced with an onslaught of biting and slapping. My arse
and feet were bright red from the assault, but still the
two ruffians kept hurting me.

It was only when I stopped swearing and made a promise to
be good did they pull the plug on the pain. However, the
sex that followed was just as manic and uncomfortable as
the stuff that had gone on before.

For most of the time I was held in an agonizing jack-knife
position, with my head stuck between my feet and my arse up
in the air. The two men, who both had some pretty heavy
stubble, took great delight in grazing on my arse-crack,
anus and ball-sac. My inflamed cock and arse-cheeks were
also treated to the stubble's rough caress.

'He tastes real good,' said Lunty to the Welshman. 'Maybe
we should take him home with us tonight. Keep him locked up
in the basement for a couple of weeks. What'cha say?'

'Good idea,' replied Neil. 'He could be our live-in sex
slave; our cleaner; our gardener; our cook.'

'Can you cook, Trev?' asked Lunty.

'No, sir,' I replied, uneasily.

'That's a pity. Still, you'll have no problem cutting the
grass in our back garden or dusting around the house.'

'Or taking the dogs for a walk,' added Neil. 'Do you like
dogs, sunshine?'

'I've got a job already, sir. I work with Craig at...'

'Not any more,' interrupted Neil. 'You belong to us now.
We've tasted the goods and we want you to be our sex slave.
The only way you can get out of coming home with us tonight
is to suck on your own cock.'

I shuddered with fear. Craig had backed away from Neil
without saying a word - the Welshman was clearly someone
you never crossed; and there was no way I would be able to
suck on my own cock.

'I can visit at weekends,' I suggested. 'You can tie me up
and punish me with the ruler .... And I don't mind doing
any odd jobs around the house.'

'That sounds like a sensible compromise,' said Lunty. 'But
let's see if you can bend over a little more and suck on
that knob of yours.'

'I don't think I can, sir'

'Nonsense,' said Neil, as he pushed down on my arse and
thighs. 'Let me give you a helping hand.'

'Argggh!' I shrieked. 'It hurts, it hurts.'

'What a baby,' chide Lunty. 'Let me help.'

The two men pushed and pulled me into a variety of painful
and contorted positions before finally admitting defeat.
They then took hold of my ankles and dragged me off the
bed. I hit the floor with a bump, and was kicked in the
side as Lunty ordered me to lie flat out on my back with my
mouth open.

Neil's hard-standing cock filled my mouth as the weight of
his body pressed down on my face. I was gagging on his cock
and fighting for air at the same time, and as I struggled,
Lunty began hitting my cock with the twelve-inch ruler.

For ten to fifteen minutes I was forced to endure Neil's
brutal face-fucking and Lunty's spiteful assault on my
cock, ball-sac and feet. I was a total wreck by the time
they threw me back on the bed and spread my arse-cheeks
apart.

Neil was the first to fuck me. His cock replaced Lunty's
Vaseline-covered fingers and stretched my rectum to the
maximum. The man then pounded my body into the mattress
while I lay, in a daze, on a sweat-soaked sheet.

'Fuck him harder, Neil,' said Lunty. 'He can take it.'

Sweat continued to pour off me as the Welshman held me down
and fucked me like there was no tomorrow. He then stopped
for a moment, feigning a possible respite, before plunging
in again and humping me even more ferociously.

I was huffing and puffing like an old steam engine by the
time he finally gave up his seed. The bedroom echoed to the
sound of animal-like grunts and groans as Neil came down
from cloud nine and collapsed on top of me.

'Fuckin' sweet!' exclaimed Lunty. 'What a show! What a
fuckin' horny show.'

Neil rolled off me a few minutes later and called on his
friend to take over. I was mounted and lanced to the spot
before I had a chance to request a five-minute breather.
Lunty's hard-standing cock was less formidable than the
Welshman's wand, but still it took its toll of my burning
hole.

'Come on, slacker,' said Neil to Lunty. 'Ride him hard!
Make him cough up your cock-head.'

Lunty renewed his efforts by grabbing hold of my shoulders
and increasing his stroke rate.

'In, out! In, out!' chanted Neil.

I raised my head off the mattress and shook the sweat from
my brow. The man was power fucking me like Worthington had
done a week earlier - I began to fear for my ears.

'In, out! In, out!' continued Neil. 'Fuck his brains out.'

The two of us began grunting and groaning in unison as my
inner sanctum was flooded by yet another load of man-seed.
Lunty's climax lasted a good deal longer than Neil's, and
still he continued to fuck me in fits and starts for some
time after.

'The poor sod's done in,' said Neil to Lunty. 'Let's call
it a day and hit the bathroom.'

*  *  *

Confusion reigned after the two men had cleaned me up in
the bathroom and walked me back to the bedroom. I sat on
the bed and watched them get dressed in total silence. Neil
then left the room for a few minutes to retrieve a raincoat
from Paul's cloakroom.

The two men dressed me in the oversized coat, which had
clearly been all the rage in the 1940s, and threatened to
beat me to a pulp if I didn't leave the flat with them.

'My clothes; I can't leave without my clothes,' I said,
trembling with fear.

'Keep the noise down, sunshine,' whispered Neil. 'We don't
want to disturb the others.'

'Don't worry, Trev. You'll be back within the hour,' said
Lunty, lying. 'We just want you to suck off a good friend
of ours. That's all.'

'Yeah, no probs,' I said, nervously. 'But please let me put
my clothes on.'

'No,' said Neil. 'You go as you are. No ifs; no buts; no
noise.'

The trip to the warehouse in Abbey Wood took an age. I
bumped around in the boot of the car and cursed my bad luck
for being so weak and willing. Little did I know that my
luck was about to get a whole lot worse.

- - - - -

Copyright Trevor Martindale, March 2007

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