Date: Wed, 09 May 2001 00:01:39 -0400
From: Danny Meyer <sittinhome@hotmail.com>
Subject: BOYZ BRUTAL TRAINING SCHOOL - Chapter 10
Archive;'Boyz Brutal Training School #10'{Danny Meyer}( MB, BB,
slow, bd, sm, cbt, tort, anal, inc, twink, )[]
_________________________________________________________
BOYZ BRUTAL TRAINING SCHOOL - A FANTASY IN EROTIC FICTION
CHAPTER 10 - HARRIS TWINS PUNISHMENT, (cont'd.)
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BOYZ BRUTAL TRAINING SCHOOL - Chapter 10
________________________________________
by Danny Meyer
Copyright (C) May 8, 2001 by Danny Meyer. All rights reserved.
Please send comments to: Danny, at
sittinhome@hotmail.com
all mail is private and confidential
all comments are welcome
If you want a reply, please say so. I'll write back.
If you don't say "Reply," I'll respect your privacy.
_________________________________________________________
'PLEASE NOTE THE FAQ AND OTHER INFORMATION AT THE BOTTOM'
_________________________________________________________
WARNING
If it is not legal or ethical for you to read erotic stories,
particularly of a gay or homosexual nature, please exercise your
obligations as a responsible citizen and select suitable reading
material. This story contains fictional graphic depictions of
actions and tendencies considered extreme by many people.
This entire story is purely a fantasy, and is for entertainment
purposes only--it is not a reflection of life. All readers are
warned not to attempt to re-enact, or recreate any of the actions
or incidents portrayed or implied in any of this story's contents
or events, which are entirely unreal, fictitious, and potentially
dangerous. The foregoing and subsequent text applies to all
chapters and portions of this story--past, present, and future.
This fantasy was written for gay men and women. The orientation
is gay male. Some bisexual men and women may also enjoy it, as
well as some straight men and women, who are curious. If you
like male to male sex and 'reasonably harsh' torture, read on.
This is a fictional story. None of this ever really happened.
None of the people are real people. Most of the characters are
in the 13 to 18 year-old age range. The story is all about sex
and pain, with young adult men, mainly from age 24 to 28, and
younger men (students) from age 13 to 22.
All of the action involves males in the age groups described--
in other words, exclusively gay activity. The cast is 100% male.
If you like, and you're allowed to read this, please read on.
If not, please select a different story, and have a good day.
No hatred or prejudice here.
___________________________________________________________
Although this fictional fantasy takes many liberties and harsh
flights of the imagination in depicting the infliction of pain,
out of respect for the human body and for the dignity of being,
there is no organic or functional destruction. There is no scat,
no unbathed persons, nor is there any violent forcing of sex used
as a substitute for the more ethical S&M and BDSM, which involves
the controlled application of pain and some formalised
humiliation, as its chief disciplinary tools.
___________________________________________________________
ALL NAMES PLACES AND EVENTS USED IN THIS STORY ARE WHOLLY
FICTITIOUS, AND BEAR NO CONNECTION WITH, RESEMBLANCE TO
OR RELATION TO ANY REAL ENTITY. ANY SUCH SIMILARITY IS
PURELY COINCIDENTAL, AND UNINTENTIONAL.
___________________________________________________________
***** CHAPTER 10 *****
______________________
CAST LIST - ALSO PROVIDES SOME FACTS ABOUT THE STORY
___________________________________________________________
Gordon: (NARRATOR) - Owner and headmaster of the
training school
*John: Newly hired as a master at the school
Darryl and Timothy
Harris: 18-year-old twins facing punishment
*O'Malley, Rogers, and
Forniky: 13 year-old boys - cute, notoriously naughty
little hellions (subsequent chapters)
Thomas: A Senior Master and Gordon's close friend
Blair, Debbins, Jenkins, and
Michaels: Masters - ages 23 to 28
Troy: A senior student (21) - the school's electronics
and video specialist
*Jason: A student, 18 - highly aroused at the moment
because of the effects of an especially strong,
sexually-stimulating potion, called super-tea
(Jason: Ch. 4 - 7; upcoming chapters)
Other characters from previous chapters are not listed.
* Listed but not appearing in this chapter
_________________________________________________________
CHAPTER ONE is a good, basic introduction to the school.
CHAPTER NINE contains a note, "To the Reader," that gives
additional information about the school.
_________________________________________________________
SEE FREQUENTLY ANSWERED QUESTIONS (FAQ) AT BOTTOM OF FILE
_________________________________________________________
AT THE END OF CHAPTER NINE...
The Harris boys were known for having erections, in the first
place, and that made the prospect of this activity especially
titillating to me. Simply undressing the Harris boys and
exposing their genitals to the air stimulated their organs to
hardness, especially in the presence of each other. They were
true lovers--and, by far, our 'horniest' twins.
>From the hallway, I called ahead to master Blair, who would make
sure my chosen room was well prepared--complete with lighted,
kerosene-style torches and three other masters present--in
leather garb--to intimidate our twin lovers.
[I had just given Blair instructions to set up Room X for the
Harris twins' punishment scenes, and to arrange for Troy to
install fresh video tapes for the cameras in Room X, the chosen
punishment room.]
"Yes, Gordon. No problem, I'll call Troy right away.
Is it all right if I don't stay for the scene? I have a
monstrous day tomorrow."
"That's fine, Blair. We'll miss you. Make sure the
other three wear their full leathers. I would prefer Michaels,
Debbins, and Jenkins. Good luck, tomorrow." [...]
I hung up the phone and thought about the Harris boys. At that
moment, I heard the shrill sound of their first screams.
'Ah! All is well with the world,' I thought to myself,
in spite of the late hour.
_______________________________________________________
(Chapter 10) - Harris Twins Punishment, (cont'd.)
I had my new toys with me and I was on my way to the place where
they would soon be used. It was a rather long trek through the
maze of the school's hallways to Punishment Room X.
The gruesome screams and agonised shouts of the Harris twins were
graphic in their energetic, expressive vocal quality. I could
almost see their open mouths and the strap, brutally whipping
into their ribs--leaving a heavy crimson line where the very edge
of the belt thrashed, excruciatingly into the flesh, and a pink,
rectangular welt from the lesser force of the flat part of the
thick wide strap--colouring their smooth golden flesh.
The sounds, themselves, were painfully erotic. Slap! Scream!
Slap! Scream! The walls of the room must have been shaking.
I could picture Thomas in the detention room, masterfully
gripping and swinging the thick leather--sweating as he went
from one twin to his brother and back until 48 blows had been
equally divided--and the boys' alternating identical voices
thrashing the air with ghastly howls. The fierce shouts of
their agony echoed, piercingly, through the hallways.
'This will wake them up, rather well,' I thought, as I
pictured the good-looking duo, who were excellent students at the
school and normally kept out of trouble.
I regretted the constraints of time that had forced me to leave
the detention room and forfeit witnessing this exquisite event,
firsthand.
Thomas had no time on his hands, either, as he needed to put the
boys in heavy punishment chains for the walk to Room X as soon as
he finished strapping them.
I considered calling John, to have him watch this and the
upcoming events with the Harris boys, but time was too short.
Finally, I concluded that he and Jason would be having far too
much fun at the moment, sexual and otherwise, to tolerate any
interruption. After all, this was John's special night of fun.
Still, it was tempting.
I passed a staff wash room, and decided to shower, quickly.
As headmaster, I had the option of doing my scenes without
assistance, so there was no necessity of calling Blair and the
three others in. The punishment room that I had chosen, however,
had just been refurbished, and there was still some debris
scattered about, plus a few odds and ends needed to be done
before the room could be considered ready for use. Besides,
there was an added element of fun with the right masters present.
I hurried along, after my shower, and by the time I arrived at
the infamous Room X, the preparations were nearly complete.
"Good work, Blair. The torches look terrific. The whole
room is exquisite--the mood is perfect."
"Thanks, Gordon."
"Too bad you can't stay for the scene, Blair. Did Troy
load the new tapes, yet?"
"Just got through, Gordon," came a voice from behind me.
I turned around.
"Hello Troy. Good work, lad," I said to our 21 year-old
student, who was also employed by the school as its Electronics
Systems Specialist. "I want the best possible taping for these
twins."
"Twins!" Troy whistled, softly, obviously surprised and
pleased. "Damn! Can I stay and watch, sir?" he asked.
Since Troy was not a master, he needed to ask permission to
watch.
"Through the mirror, only, Troy, sorry. These two are
still shy and innocent, I'm afraid. Hah. They've been here four
years and they seem more like 14 than 18. Lucky to have them."
"Great, Gordon. Thanks. Is the audio on?"
"I'm not sure. Check it out, Troy. While you're at it,
lock us in and put the red warning light on in the hallway--in
case Thomas gets here early with the Harris boys. I don't want
them coming in until everything is ready, here."
"HARRIS boys! With pleasure. Those guys are cute! They
ARE shy. Horny as hell, though."
"Yes, our lovebirds will be here, shortly."
"Lovebirds! That's a good word for them, Gordon.
They're really hot--I've seen their tapes."
"Who hasn't?!! Did you check out the cameras, Troy?"
"Yes, sir. They're working fine."
I looked around the well-prepared punishment room, casually,
nodding my head in approval. Everything was delightful--the
torches, the wall hangings, the display of ancient tools of
torture. The twin racks, prominently featured, were especially
appropriate. The room had a fabulous, eerie, gruesome quality
that sent lustful chills up my spine.
The entire floor of this room was one large drain, because so
many boys lost control of their bladders, in fear of the place or
in reaction to the pain. The grated floor also accommodated the
water from the grisly icy showers that were given here. These
consisted of a spray of salt water (often aimed at the scrotum)
that was chilled to a frigid 23 degrees F., ( -5 C). Those
showers could only be performed in this room. I wasn't planning
it for the Harris twins--at least, not at the moment. Water that
cold was painful almost anywhere on the body.
Intense cold on the scrotum, which is actually a muscle, causes
that muscle to contract to bring the testicles closer to the
body--to warm them. But if the cold is intense and long-lasting
enough, the scrotum continues to contract, even when the globes
are as far up as they can go. This causes excruciating pain as
the tough insistent scrotum relentlessly tightens its grip around
the poor trapped testicles--although it doesn't really harm them.
The casual observer could not easily discern the harmlessness of
this however, judging from the agonised shouts and screams coming
from the boys unfortunate enough to experience this mindless
biological phenomenon--their own bodies, torturing them.
I was not entirely convinced that this procedure was without risk
for very young males, so for the safety and healthful development
of our smaller boys, I restricted the use of this room--and the
icy scrotum treatment in particular--to boys 16 years of age, and
older. Less intense applications of cold would not harm even the
most junior of our students.
While everyone was going about their appointed tasks, I realised
I had left my 'toys' behind, in the shower room.
"Troy, hold up on that door. I've got to go pick
something up."
Actually, this unexpected side-trip would work to my advantage.
If I took my time retrieving the toys, Thomas, Darryl, and Tim
would precede my arrival at Room X, and I would be the last to
enter. That kind of entrance usually had its fear-inducing
effect on the students involved. I decided I would have a spot
of our special tea, myself, and relax for a few minutes.
As I sat, sipping the arousing brew, I began to become concerned
that I might pause too much, and keep everyone in suspense longer
than is normally effective.
I needn't have worried, however, as I soon heard the two lads
with their chains clanking noisily down the hall, on their way to
Room X. Hearing this would allow me to pace myself to arrive
there at the peak of the twins' nervous anticipation.
I wondered what they looked like at the moment, with their ribs,
scorched from the recent strapping. I had to smile at the mental
image I was picturing--two identically beautiful youths, wrapped
in chains, waddling clumsily, down the hall, groaning in pain.
Yes, all was well with the world.
By protocol, I was in charge of this session, which meant that
Thomas would do nothing but get the twins into the room, keep
them at attention, and await further instructions. I timed it so
that Thomas and the boys would have about a three minute wait.
Total silence met me as I entered the macabre punishment room.
My body throbbed at the sensual sight of the two, sweaty, horny,
good-looking boys, standing naked at attention--still in chains--
and with full erections.
Six different versions of "Hello, Master Gordon" greeted me after
I gave the customary nod. While it was the rule that all other
masters were called by their last names, I had decided from the
beginning that I would be called by my first name, preceded by
the word, "Master." This worked to ease some of the tension the
boys had around me in routine greetings and talks, but did little
to ease the fear of the two enticing lads before me. I could not
suppress a smile.
"Good evening, Masters," I said in response. Then, I
turned to the twins. "It's good to see you again, so soon,
boys."
"Thank you sir," was their tense, stereophonic reply.
As I looked more closely at our two, naked slave-boys, I could
see they looked miserable. Walking with the bulky chains had
been tiring and difficult, even for two very healthy teenaged
boys. From their subtle winces, I could tell their balls were
aching from the pull of the chains tugging at their testicles
with every step of the journey from the detention room to the
punishment room, and every movement of their bodies, as they
stood. I saw some chafed skin at the top of their nutsacks, but
their erections were well maintained by the special tea.
When all eyes weren't staring at their erections, we admired the
mass of purple pink and crimson welts along their ribs, and
adjacent places on their smooth, provocative bodies--such as we
could see with the chains in the way. The pain must have been
stunning, as they struggled with every movement, but fading
rapidly.
The four Masters--Michaels, Dentin, Jenkins and Thomas--stood
also at attention, in a square formation. The three in leather,
ranging in age from 23 to 28, had superb erections of their own,
visible under their thin leather briefs, which had snap-out
fronts--reserved for these moments.
As I looked the masters over, I admired their potent, masculine
beauty--with Michaels and Debbins still in possession of
substantially boyish looks. These masters were some of the most
attractive young men available, and their appearance was most
alluring.
I was about to give an order, when I saw that everyone was eyeing
me tensely--even the masters. I then realised I had neglected to
define their roles, so they had no idea what was expected of
them.
"All right. Special instructions, men. Thomas, stay
with the boys."
At that point I headed for the doorway that led to the next room.
Each punishment room had small adjacent rooms for various
purposes. The three masters followed. As soon as we were safely
inside, I knew what I wanted, and closed the door. I would put
our protocol to another test.
"Open your briefs."
I smiled proudly as the men smartly pulled the snaps open, and
exposed themselves for me, while maintaining an erect posture.
Their erections were impressive. After reaching full puberty,
after reaching full puberty, a man's penis continues to grow a
tiny amount each year. The thicker, potent organs of these men
were magnificent in beauty as well as size.
Of course, I would do this only at private gatherings of masters,
and never with a student present.
"Gentlemen, you are stunning. Either you are all very
horny tonight or you have taken some tea. Which is it?"
All three admitted to having some of our tea. This was a fairly
common practice. Michaels had a particularly charming smile.
"I have a feeling you won't have needed it, but, so much
the better. I suspect I'll have a need for your splendid
erections later on."
This produced some hopeful smiles on the faces of these handsome
masters, who relished the idea of actual contact with the Harris
twins.
"Relax, gentlemen. Your roles here will be merely to
assist when called upon. You may move about, gather around and
observe, or just be at ease, during the scene."
The all nodded sharply, exactly according to written protocol.
This eliminated unnecessary verbalisations. I smiled--gratified
and reassured that our organisation had maintained its proper
discipline. It was obvious these younger masters were pleased
with their relaxed roles.
"I won't tell you what I have planned, so it will be a
surprise to all of you. I assure you it will be time well spent.
I will be using some new toys. At ease."
I could see and hear the excitement as the masters talked among
themselves.
"Gird up your loins, and let's get out there. Don't
stray far from the action, and no sex among you until this is
over."
Three smiling masters followed me back to the punishment room.
I was sure our absence was mysterious and unnerving to our young
student lovers, who eyed the enigmatic smiles of the returning
masters with considerable dread. I felt the sharp discomfort of
my own cramped erection, as I pictured Michaels, Dentin and
Jenkins with similar troubles of their own.
The twins stood, with masters on either side, facing me. The
masters had good side views of the boys.
"I know you are all familiar with the Harris twins, here.
As you know, they are quite the loving couple, and because of
good grades and excellent behaviour, they've been given many
liberties--among them, the freedom to engage in mutual sexual
activities by mere request to Master Thomas--subject to his
approval.
Of course, in the presence of students, it was mandatory that
speech among Masters be formal--particularly during a punishment.
"So, Master Thomas, tell me, how often did you allow our
lovebirds to have sex with each other?"
"It ranged from once a week to once every few days,
Master Gordon."
"How nice!" I said, looking at the masters, then glaring
at the distressed duo, "And for some reason, this privilege
wasn't sufficient, and these brothers went off on their own, for
unauthorised sexual engagement. A punishable offence!"
I paused for effect, and watched, as the wide-eyed twins gulped,
fearfully--a response I found rather charming.
"And so much excellent equipment in here to choose from
to 'correct' and punish that offence! We even have two identical
racks, side by side." I stared into the twins' eyes as I spoke.
"We just got those in, too, Darryl and Timothy--aren't
you the lucky ones! And they're the type with a nice bed of
short needles to lay on, just to keep you awake for the fun!"
I wasn't sure if I would put them on the rack, but I was having
my own fun, watching their uneasiness.
The twins eyes darted, repeatedly to one side, where they caught
glimpses of the glowing, branding furnace--complete with a full
set of brands glowing an angry, menacing red. I could see the
lads' hearts pounding, and their faces drenched in fear. My
mention of the rack did not serve to ease this condition.
Even in dread, however, the boys' faces had a cute quality to
them that defied description. It sounded ridiculous, but at that
moment I just wanted to eat them up.
I reached out to the twins and ran my fingers along each long,
steel-like penis. This elicited a gasp and a startled jump from
the two lads.
"Such splendid erections! Are you boys horny tonight?"
'Does the fox want the hen?' I thought.
The twins' delayed, blushing response was charming.
"Yes, sir," the lads intoned, sheepishly--knowing this
was not going to be simple sex play.
"Do you love each other?"
"Yes, Master Gordon."
"Show me how you love each other. Kiss him, Darryl. And
Timothy, return your brother's kiss. Make it a nice, long kiss."
The clanking of the chains was somewhat humorous, as the twins
began to lift their arms and turn toward each other. The
restraining effect of the weight burdened the movements of their
arms, and there was a bit of sorrow in their mutual gaze, which,
however was overshadowed by the hungry, sexual look in their
eyes. Their embrace and the initial contact of their lips were
sensual and arousing to watch. It was amazing to see their
identical cocks against each other, having their own sort of
kiss. The lads' irrepressible hunger for each other seemed to
make them oblivious to the gravity of what lay before them.
I scanned the aroused faces and bodies of the four other masters,
momentarily.
"Don't hold back, boys! Make it a passionate kiss."
I had spoken too late. Tim had already opened his mouth,
cavernously wide--receiving a good portion of his brother's
teeth, and a full load of Darryl's tongue. The twins were
beginning to sweat, with desire, already.
I watched as long as I could, as the lovers practically copulated
with their tongues, and I thought I would ejaculate in my pants.
I had Thomas remove Darryl's restraints and body chains, and we
all drooled, seeing him totally naked for the first time.
"Darryl, take off your brother's chains. Thomas, give
him the key."
This was a first. The poor lad did not know where the locks
were, and had no idea where to begin. It was fun to watch
Darryl's reddening face and trembling hands, as he fumbled
through the lengths of chain to find the necessary locks.
He managed to undo two of them, when the poor lad jumped,
suddenly. We all had trouble suppressing a laugh. Quite
unfortunately, one of the freed chains had slipped and swung,
mightily, into Darryl's unprotected scrotum--lock and all. The
poor lad howled in agony and grabbed his nuts, despairingly.
"KISS THEM, Timothy. Your brother is in pain!"
"Ohhhhhh Gawwwwwd," Darryl moaned, softly.
Poor lad! The lock and full weight of the monstrous chain were
behind that blow to his tender testicles.
Several of the masters rubbed their stubborn, substantial
erections as Tim went to his knees and did his best to lean over,
and gently nurse his brother's aching nuts with his mouth.
Darryl's moans added to the arousal in the room. I let this
continue for about a minute.
"Move on, Darryl! Get those chains off your brother," I
said, as I smacked his bottom fiercely, with a thin cane.
"Shwip! Shwip! Shwip! WHAP!!"
"Arrrrrrggghhhhhhh!"
Darryl worked quickly after this, and soon, Timothy's chains were
removed. Thomas and Jenkins carried off the burdensome things,
and we had the two twin, fully naked teen slaves, unencumbered.
My thoughts went back to the scene in my office, when I had
Thomas examine the new toys. I was anxious to use them, but I
thought of an excellent prelude at the last second. I stared,
lustfully at Darryl. He was a studly top, the stronger of the
twins, and I loved tormenting him.
"Darryl, tell me what you boys were up to, when Master
Thomas found you?"
"Uhh, well sir, I was... we were, um, making love, sir,"
the lad said, blushing, grasping for words.
"Making love? That could mean many things. Perhaps your
brother can shed some light on this. Timothy! Tell me what you
and Darryl were doing!" I said. Darryl blanched, at this.
"Sir! I uh... we... I mean, Darryl was--uh, doing it to
me, when Master Thomas... found us, sir."
"'Doing it.' That's still not very clear, boys!" I
shifted my eyes back to the first twin. "Darryl! Tell me,
straight out!"
"I was fucking Timothy, sir."
"Oh! That's better. You were FUCKING your brother. I
see. I'm glad you got that out, finally. Fucking him, I see.
Yes, fucking him... With THIS?"
As I asked the question, I flicked the tip of my cane on the
underside of his erection.
"Aaaahhhrrghhh.... Oww! Ahhhh, God, oh! Yes, sir."
"Yes, Darryl, you were saying your were fucking your
brother, as I recall. And how did that feel, while you were
doing that, Darryl?"
I could almost feel the fire in the boy's cheeks--not to mention
his penis. Timothy's visage was not far behind his brother's in
its enchanting coloration.
"It felt... well... it felt very good, sir."
"Yes, Darryl. Judging by the throbbing in your cock
right now, I'd say you're enjoying it very much, just thinking
about it, boy!"
I turned my gaze to Tim.
"And how was it, Timothy?"
"Sir, I... well... oh God... he, um... sir--"
Tim was not expecting this. His brother was the accustomed
spokesperson for the pair. Tim began to fall apart at this
question, and stammered, pathetically. I decided to take pity on
the boy, in one sense--but what I now had in mind would be more
stressful, more embarrassing, for these two lads.
"Never mind, boy. I think it would be much easier for
both of you to just SHOW us what you did. Then I won't have all
these difficult questions for you to answer. Thomas, the table."
The twins let out a rusty sigh that was at once the height of
their stressful embarrassment, sexual desire, and dread of
whatever else we may have had in mind, for them. The breathy
sounds unveiled the twin's erotic potency.
I thought I heard an, "Oh shit," but I ignored it. I suspected
it was Darryl, however. Poor lad was never much of an
exhibitionist, to say the least, and he was having a bad night,
after all. Timothy, on the other hand was more of a stage
performer, at least in his solo-sex and bottom contests that I
had seen.
>From the twins' past sexual exercises with other students, I
recalled that Darryl fretted, jealously when another student was
assigned to penetrate his brother, and that gave me an idea.
"Darryl. Poor boy! You look a bit frazzled. Perhaps it
would be better if I got Master Michaels, or one of the older CUM
boys, to fuck Timothy?"
"No please! Sir! No! No, I'll be--"
The boy nearly panicked.
"Ah! So you're up to the task, then?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you sure you want to fuck your brother, now?"
"Oh yes, sir!"
Darryl's answer was uncharacteristically flamboyant, most likely
owing to a case of nerves and his extreme sexual hunger, at this
point. He must have been drooling, or fearful, as he gave me
another one of his enticing gulps, and I swelled in my pants as
the pert point of his boyish Adam's apple made its little journey
gracefully--riveting my attention to the boy's perfect, golden-
skinned neck and face.
As I shifted my gaze from Darryl to Tim, I noticed for the first
time that the peak of Tim's Adams apple was more rounded than
Darryl's. Other than this, except for a minute scar on the sole
of Timothy's left foot, the two were absolutely identical.
Jenkins helped Thomas carry the padded, sex table into the area
we now occupied. The topography of the table was adjustable, to
accommodate almost any imaginable sexual position. A rack of
towels and a tray of condoms were attached.
The four other masters and I were palpitating with excitement.
Timothy was trembling, along with his twin, yet the two exchanged
sensual as well as fearful glances.
"So how do you like it, Timothy--on you back or doggie
style?" I asked.
Now I had done it. Tim was not used to this. The poor lad was
rapidly coming undone, and his blush spread down his fit body to
his arms and hands, which shook, visibly.
"Speak up, boy!"
"I, ohhh, oh God... I, uh... I... I--oh... well--on my
back sir," Tim blurted, carelessly.
Timothy winced immediately, and his brother rolled his eyes.
Apparently, in his profound state of apprehension, Timothy had
said the wrong thing.
Thomas was gagging, trying to stifle his laughter. I took him
aside.
"Thomas, they were doing it doggie style when you found
them, weren't they?"
"Yes," Thomas managed to mumble, though his garbled
guffaws. I thought the poor man was going to slap his knee and
roll on the floor at any moment. "Darryl's the boss, and he
hates the missionary position. They never fuck that way!"
"I see. Thank you. Well, get a hold of yourself Thomas,
and I don't mean grab your cock." This got us both to laughing,
and we had to control ourselves our we'd be worse than the boys.
I began to speculate whether Tim's blurted preference for being
on his back may have been a Freudian slip, or if there might be a
method to his madness--perhaps a not-so-accidental slip to have
it HIS way, for a change, perhaps. I wondered.
I would have insisted on a true re-enactment of the scene that
Thomas had interrupted, not long before, but I would be content
with this modified version because departing from his preferred
arrangement would be a hindrance for Darryl--adding a little
pepper to the lube, as we say.
This made me think it wise to leave things as they were, and let
the boys have intercourse as Tim had indicated. Besides, with
Tim on his back, we would all get to see his exquisite facial
expression as he received his brother's now thicker, longer,
tea-enhanced erection.
The anxious and aroused lads were already getting into position.
Tim's legs were raised and Darryl was poised, reaching for a
condom, when I stopped them.
"Boys! You haven't properly prepared each other!"
Of course, they had no idea what I meant, because I had just
thought of it. They had already begun to pant for each other,
such was their hunger. Now the lads scrambled to their feet,
somewhat hesitantly. I never tired of seeing the bounce of an
erect penis.
"Stand at attention."
With the boys perfectly still, and their excessively stiff cocks
pointing upward, I could see the throb of Darryl's penis. All of
us simply stared and admired--hypnotised by the sheer beauty of
these brothers, and the unmistakable revelations made by the
subtle rhythmic movements of Darryl's erection.
'A throbbing cock reveals so much about its owner,' I
thought.
"Darryl, I think since your very hungry-looking penis is
about to get so much pleasure from fucking your brother, you owe
it to him to suck his poor neglected cock for a few minutes.
Don't you agree that's fair?"
"Yes, sir," the lad said, lifelessly.
There was an air of reluctance and a tinge of resentment in
Darryl's manner.
"Is something wrong, Darryl?"
"No, sir."
"You do want to suck your brother's penis and give him
pleasure, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Don't you agree, Darryl, that's the least you can do,
after all the pleasure Timothy gives you, with his body, time
after time?"
"Yes, sir."
"What exactly do you DO to your brother, when you fuck
him, Darryl?"
"What... do I... DO, sir?"
"Yes. Be explicit, boy!"
"I put my penis... um... inside him, sir."
"Inside what?"
"His anus, sir."
"I'm glad to see you haven't forgotten your biology,
Harris. It would have been so disappointing, to me. Very good,
boy."
"Thank you, sir."
"That's all you do, put your erection in his anus, and
leave it there?"
"No, sir. I--well, I pump it in and out... so I can...
you know, cum, sir."
"That's more like it Harris. I don't enjoy dragging it
out of you. How hard do you pump yourself, into your brother?"
Another charming, little gulp graced the lad's throat. I had
never seem him so red-faced as now. He was far from the breaking
point, but he was clearly becoming unnerved.
"How HARD, sir? Well, uh... um, pretty hard, sir."
"Darryl, how do you think your brother feels, when you
pound your penis into him, mercilessly, like that?"
"I like it very much!" shouted Timothy, attempting to
defend his twin against my verbal assault. "Darryl makes me feel
good, sir!!"
"Tim, shut up!"
Darryl's angry, brotherly outburst was the greater sin, although
Tim had spoken quite out of turn. Darryl's face showed his fear,
immediately.
This was all very much out of order, and indicated how badly the
boys were rattled. Darryl was uncharacteristically shaken and
intimidated by these proceedings. The boy froze in horror, now,
as if expecting his very life to be taken, for responding in such
a fashion--responding at all, for that matter.
"You know I could whip you for that, boy. Or WORSE! Get
on your knees, Darryl!" I had no intentions of whipping him, but
the boy broke down, not knowing this, as his knees thumped to the
floor.
"Oh GOD, sir!" the shaken lad shrieked. "I'm sorry, sir.
I'm sorry, sir."
Darryl on his knees was enticing enough, but to see him
practically begging--now that was arousing!
I did not need to consult Thomas to know that kneeling was the
last position Darryl--the dominant, studly top-boy--would have
chosen. It was astounding how different the two of them were,
while looking so alike. I liked them both.
"Timothy, get over here. Don't you want your brother to
suck your penis?"
"Yes... I mean, I do, yes, sir."
"Don't begin until I give the signal--freeze in position,
and don't put your mouth on it yet, boy! Thomas, time them."
Poor Darryl was still quite disoriented.
The motionless twins made a most charming sight--Darryl
uncharacteristically on his knees, his twin's cock an inch from
his open mouth.
Now it was Timothy's turn to stand still and be the object of our
lust-filled gaze, as we watched the boy's organ throb, visibly,
in animal anticipation of its pleasure. The tableau was
producing its own throbs around the room, I could see.
I still couldn't get over the roles we had them in--Tim standing,
and Darryl kneeling, shaken, submissive, at his brother's feet.
"Timothy, kneel and kiss your brother, the poor boy
seems a bit upset."
The boy knelt, silently, and comforted his brother the best he
could, under the circumstances. The two of them looked rather
charming and cute, sitting knee-to-knee, on the floor--as if they
were going to play marbles, or something.
"All right, get up now, Timothy. Thomas, set your timer
for three minutes. Ready? Go!"
It was only now obvious how badly Darryl was trembling, as he
began to surround his brother's cock with his open mouth. I
could see Darryl's open lips, quivering
The moment of contact--the moment his mouth closed upon its
phallic target--was evident to all.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," moaned the standing twin.
"You have no permission to cum, Timothy," I reminded the
boy.
Timothy's knees looked as if they would give out, at any moment.
"Michaels, Jenkins--hold him up."
While Michaels and Jenkins grabbed the boy, Debbins held a whip,
threateningly, within Tim's view, presumably to remind him of the
consequences of having orgasm without permission. Timothy's
expression changed instantly.
There is something indescribably erotic about watching a boy
getting his cock sucked, and seeing his face go from ecstasy to
eyebrow-raising panic, because of some little gesture a master
makes.
Timothy was terrified of the whip, and perhaps Debbins had done
the boy a favour, inducing fear to dampen the lad's spirits
enough that he might have an easier time, holding out for the
full three minutes.
After taking Thomas' timer and handing it to Debbins, I took
Thomas into the other room, and smiled to the sweet music of
Timothy's moans of pleasure. Or were they moans of frustration?
Could he be struggling to hold his cum, this soon? The sloppy
slurp and squish of mouth and penis were incredible.
I closed the door behind me and turned to Thomas.
"Gordon, did you want me to get a few cum boys, to
assist?"
"No Thomas, no need of that. Look--here are the toys.
Clean them up, bring them back, but don't let the twins see them.
I want to spring this on them. Make sure the strainer is on the
drain--I don't want to lose that gasket. And see that the thong
tray is in order."
The toys were new, but I had my foibles about sanitation.
Returning to the room, I saw there were 20 seconds left on the
timer, just as Tim doubled over--a sure sign of impending orgasm.
He was too far gone, for the whip or the cane to do any good.
"Hold it, Tim! You can do it boy!" I shouted.
I motioned to Debbins to crack the whip on the floor. The noise
startled Timothy just enough. I didn't want to whip the boy--I
had other plans, for now.
The timer rang. Tim had made it, and collapsed, breathlessly, on
his back--penis waving hungrily--and his brother tended to him.
This was another interesting reversal to watch, because Timothy
was the usual clean-up boy of the pair--pawing and cooing over
his brother--a role I could never imagine Darryl fulfilling.
Yet, accustomed or not, it was Darryl who was taking care of
Timothy.
"Kiss him, Darryl. Let him taste himself!" I said. Of
course, Tim's pre-cum had surely flooded his mouth. My rules
insisted on cleanliness, so our boys were always clean, but I
enjoyed planting the seed of suggestion that they were enjoying
their masculine body scents as well as the sex. Timothy was
about as sexually frustrated as a young man could be, at the
moment.
We all enjoyed seeing Darryl's dripping penis leave trails of
pre-cum on his brothers hips as he kissed and embraced Timothy.
There was something special about watching twins--an added sexual
ambience that was indescribable.
Darryl humped himself on Timothy, and they were definitely
enjoying themselves, now. The dual, sensual moaning heightened
the erections of all present.
It was an interesting juxtaposition. Tim had just been cruelly
sucked and denied his orgasm. Darryl was desperate enough as it
was, having his orgasm prevented by Thomas when he had caught the
brothers in the act. Now, this added delay and ordeal for Darryl
made him fierce with sexual desire.
I could not decide, watching the twin, panting lads, which one
was more in the throws of pain with their frantic, unfulfilled,
sensual longing.
The carnal embrace continued, as the two teens squirmed and
wriggled--sliding their tight bodies and slippery cocks in random
directions over each other, and moaning--half in voluptuous
pleasure and half in misery.
Occasionally, each of them would glance about, surreptitiously,
and blush more intensely--revealing an enchanting, innocent,
youthful, self-consciousness. It was as if their wild abandon
had them so focused on fleshly satisfaction that it caused lapses
in their awareness of our presence in the room.
Their emotional immaturity was compensated by their boundless
sexuality. In four years at the school, neither of them had lost
much of their 14 year-old innocence--not counting the sexual
maturity and experience they had gained--making them one of the
most captivating couples to observe. Certainly, there was not a
dry crotch in the room.
A wide-eyed stare from one of the masters, and a nod toward the
Harris twins made me realise they were in danger of orgasm.
"All right, freeze, boys. Jenkins, Debbins, take them
inside, and get them a drink."
'Inside' referred to another adjacent room--a general area
complete with beds, chairs, medical supplies, and a small
kitchen. 'Drink,' specifically meant a high-calorie, high
electrolyte sports drink, which the twins surely needed, by now.
Water, of course, would also be provided.
Darryl reluctantly rolled off Timothy, who pulled a towel from
the table, and began to lovingly clean his brother, then himself.
It was quite adorable, the way Tim tended to Darryl. This was
what I was used to seeing. As he wiped his twin's body with the
towel, Tim looked as if he would shed tears.
With all the toughness we had trained into ourselves, as masters,
I'm sure I was not alone, at that moment, in feeling as if I were
peering in on private activity, not meant for our eyes. Of
course we were insufficiently motivated to act upon the feeling.
The twins were soon in the next room, out of earshot--Debbins and
Jenkins with them. That left me alone with Michaels, the
youngest and most attractive of the four masters, present.
The excitement in the young man's face was unmistakable.
"Holy shit, Gordon!" Michaels whooped, excitedly. "Those
guys are unbelievable! I've been ready to cum, the whole time."
"Desperate are we, now? Let's see it."
Michaels unsnapped his briefs, more eagerly and child-like than
out of obedience, and uncovered a gigantic erection, thoroughly
soaked in pre-cum and poking upward, from a fine mesh of dark,
soggy pubic hair. This boy of a man produced more pre-cum than
any other I had seen. He first pushed down, slightly on the
stubborn organ, then stroked it, lewdly. He was evidently asking
me to relieve his sexual tensions for him--a task I would have
readily performed, except I had other plans for him.
"Gladly," I said, answering his unspoken plea with a
word, "but if you can hold out, you might get lucky with that
thing, a little later."
It took self-control for me to say that, as I was very tempted to
pleasure Michaels--a 'lushful' young master--who could have been
a darker-haired version of the Harris boys' older brother.
Michaels understood my meaning, and with a wistful look at his
engorged penis, re-snapped his briefs and smiled weakly.
"OK, Gordon, but, if--"
"Then I'll see you in my quarters, afterward, dear boy."
This brought a wide grin to Michaels' face.
"You still think of me as a boy, Gordon?"
"Of course. You're very attractive and young-looking,
you know. And I have fond memories of your student days, here."
"I kind of miss that, Gordon."
"I thought you might. Regardless of how this turns out
with the twins, why don't you plan on spending the night with
me."
"Oh, thank you, Gordon."
We were both happy with this.
There was an awkward moment. It was clear each wanted to move
toward the other, wanted to renew old memories, but neither of us
moved. The tension was broken when Thomas re-entered the room,
with toys in hand.
"Gasket accounted for, Thomas?"
"No problem, Gordon. Got it right here," Thomas said, as
he waved the thing at me.
"Hey, what are those?" Michaels exclaimed--fascinated
with the toys Thomas was holding.
I needed to give Thomas some last-minute instructions before I
looked in on the boys.
"Thomas, be sure to set up the thong tray and the
standard lube set--the new one. A number-two catheter tray too--
nothing messy, I just want to keep them drained later, so they'll
have no distractions from their, 'primary sensations.' That is,
after I have my special fun with them."
A stunned smirk seemed to be the primary reaction from Thomas and
Michaels. They wanted to know what I was up to, and from the
looks of them, they knew better than to ask me, as I wasn't
telling. I was in a fiendishly playful mood.
I nodded, and turned to look in on the boys, while Thomas and
Michaels chatted away.
I thought of John again, briefly, wishing he could witness the
night's festivities, but I was having more fun, at the moment,
not having to explain everything as we went along.
The twins started to rise as I entered the kitchen.
"Sit down. Relax, boys. Finish your drinks you'll need
the energy," I said, coming in on the boys with Jenkins in their
midst. "Master Jenkins--you have allowed our lovebirds to speak
freely?"
"Yes, Master Gordon, I did. May we speak privately?"
"Yes."
Jenkins took me aside and described how tense the boys were, and
how Darryl had complained miserably to Tim about his choice of
position for their semi-public lovemaking.
"I expected as much, Jenkins. They've finally realised
that they're really in hot water, now. Any other revelations?"
"They seem rather quiet, Gordon--maybe something is on
their minds."
"Lover's quarrel?"
"Perhaps, but they've been rather affectionate, so I
don't think it's that sort of thing. I can't be certain."
"It's all right, Jenkins. No time to delve into that,
now, anyway. Give them both showers. I want you and Debbins
with them, at every moment, monitoring--and no funny business.
If you must play with them, 30 seconds of sucking is the most
I'll allow. If they cum, it's your hides. Don't waste any time.
It will only take us a few minutes to set up the rest of the
things and be ready for them."
"Yes, Gordon."
"Jenkins, I almost forgot. Has either of them said
anything about having the need to piss?"
"I hated to mention it, but yes. Timothy's been driving
me and Debbins mad, complaining he is going to explode."
"Understandable. Darryl can't be far behind. Thomas
says he's given them each a gallon of water, and left the
fountain on in the detention room where they sat for an hour.
So--change of plan! Clamp their cocks before you do another
thing! A shower would make them pee, immediately, without a
clamp--and I want every bit of it to remain inside their
bladders.
"I'll hold you and Debbins responsible for seeing to it that the
boys don't not release so much as a drop of the stuff. Keep a
close eye them. Make sure they don't lose the clamps, especially
in the shower. I'll take the clamps off, myself, later on"
"Sir, of course, but Gordon, we had no idea. I'm sorry
to say--Darryl was too quick for us and used the toilet before we
knew what was happening."
"I see. Pity. Give him a diuretic, then, and an extra
two litres of water. We can hope for the best, Jenkins."
"The best, sir?"
'The best' would be a one-quarter full bladder for Darryl, at
most, by the time we got to that part. As I thought about it,
this might work much better with the procedure I had in mind.
"Yes. You'll see later on. Meanwhile, you and Debbins
give the pair every speck of your attention."
"Yes, Gordon. You have my word."
"Carry on."
Thomas and Michaels were setting up the trays and still talking
about the possible uses for the toys when I returned to the
punishment area.
All certainly was well, and now it was time for one of the main,
sensual events of the night--the re-enactment of the scene that
got the Harris twins in trouble, in the first place.
I could hardly contain my excitement--literally.
Soon, all was ready and we called for the twins. Jenkins and
Debbins marched them, ceremoniously slowly toward the centre of
the punishment area, where my requested trays sat waiting on a
small table.
At that moment, another brilliant and devilish idea came to mind.
"Debbins, lead them this way, toward the poles."
Almost every training and punishment room had a row of poles,
usually arranged in a curved formation, where several boys could
be lined up and tied to them--sometimes facing the pole, more
often with their backs toward it. The curved arrangement worked
well to allow the boys to see each other, when tied to them.
The boys, looking terrified, maintained their slow pace, as if
going to their doom. I was grateful for our tea. Their
erections were maintained, beautifully.
As I tied Darryl to one pole, I knelt to fasten his feet. Of
course I did not miss the opportunity to extend my tongue and
lick the boy's hardened flesh just under its slickened tip.
As I stood up I saw Jenkins about to tie Timothy to the adjacent
pole.
"Jenkins, go one over. Leave an empty pole between
them."
Putting more distance between the twins than they were expecting,
would have an agitating effect that would keep the boys on their
toes, so to speak. I had them angled, slightly, toward each
other--mainly so they would have a better view of each other, and
would likely squirm more vigorously as his twin became the focus
of whatever torment would be forthcoming.
As Jenkins worked to tie Tim to the pole, I began to clarify my
thoughts on this last-minute addition to the night's spectacle.
Although the room was silent, the lustful stares of the young
masters filled the room with a distinct erotic pressure.
"Gentlemen, I think the twins are losing interest.
Perhaps we'll all have a go at their nice cocks, and see if we
can restore their passion for each other."
This instantly stirred the interest of the four excited masters.
"You know men," I said to the masters with innocent
animation, "if that's too much trouble, we could go to ORD and
bring the 16 year-olds back here, give them cock whips and see
what they do to these two scamps." This brought an instant look
of horror to our alarmed couple.
ORD referred to the Orgasm Denial room, a place full of sensual
moans and groans, which was usually well stocked with desperately
horny 14 to 16 year old boys, each of whom had undergone days or
weeks of having his penis licked, sucked and cajoled by a steady
stream of students and masters--who were always encouraged to
visit the poor begging lads, and help them out by giving them
some sexual 'pleasure' that their penises seemed to need.
For some reason, 16 year-olds seemed particularly susceptible to
this exotic torture--with their cocks and balls aching beyond
reason, after days of near-orgasms, one after the other.
Of course, we routinely did the charitable thing and whipped or
slapped their cum-deprived dicks--this action helping to take the
edge off their overwhelming libidos--for a few minutes, anyway.
So it was ironic that I should suggest giving those tortured
younger teens an opportunity to turn the tables--with the Harris
boys as the lucky recipients of the mischief, of course.
The nature of the masters' nervous laughter in response to my
humorous remark told me that they were concerned that I might be
serious.
"On second thought," I said mercifully, "let's go with my
original idea, put kneeling stations in front of Tim and Darryl,
and perform the favour ourselves."
As skilled in oral ministrations as the five of us were, there
was little chance the twins would lose any of their precious
semen, during this process, although their desire to do so would
rise, markedly.
"We'll do them one at a time, men," I said. "I think
since Tim has just had his penis very nicely attended to by his
brother, we ought to start with Darryl. Let's all give him our
attention before we switch to the other one."
Darryl looked utterly defeated. Of course, we didn't tell them
what we were going to do, as we would for a training session.
Under these conditions, with the scene full of surprises and
sudden changes of direction, the lads wouldn't trust what we told
them, in the first place. However, the sexual torture would,
most likely, quickly dissolve Darryl's downtrodden mood.
Each of my four, subordinate masters knelt and used all the
skills of their tongues and hands to produce the most startling
shrieks, moans, squirms and cock-throbs from the desperate boy.
Never before did a lad's penis look so desperate to cum, and be
so expertly denied. Darryl was on the brink--not only of orgasm,
but of madness.
"Ahhhhhh... Sir... please... please... ohhh, uhhh...
yeah, no, don't--uhhhnggh"
"Come on, make it jump again, boy," Michaels interjected,
as Debbins was having his fun with the Darryl.
After an hour or so of this delightful spectacle, I had the other
masters raise Darryl so his feet were 40 inches from the floor,
(about 1 m). They used a tall, narrow box built for this
purpose. He remained tied to the pole. It was my turn to have
fun with the boy, again, and his penis was at mouth level, now.
I would have my own hour, in earnest, with the pert young Darryl.
I picked up a jar of the sensitising lubricant and walked to
Darryl, taking a generous amount of the stuff into my hand. I
touched my fingers gently to the boy's beautiful erection. This
sensitised the skin anywhere it touched the body. The slightest
touch would be magnified, many times. In the extreme dosages,
pleasure become pain, with this cream.
"Oh,.... Ohhh Sir.... PLEASE, Sir...."
The poor lad was shaking, markedly now. He knew the effect of
this cream, and, tortured as his poor penis was already, he was,
in desperation, begging me not to use the cream. I was pleased
we had brought him out of his former, morose condition--having
noticed a bit of Darryl's brazen edge returning, nicely.
"What's the matter, Darryl? It's only been two hours!"
The question was rhetorical. Of course, it had been two hours of
licking the stunning boy's incredible erection--licking,
stroking, feathering, fingering the poor thing--all without
orgasm. The boy's sweet, clear, personal biological lubricant
flowed and ran down the vertical pole of his penis, and dripped
steadily to the floor, where a respectable puddle of the stuff
had accumulated.
I would momentarily muffle Darryl's ragged breathing, so I could
have silence, to hear the, "drip, drip, drip" of this delightful
liquid, as it fell, rhythmically, from the lad's tight nutsack--
which was now a hard, two-lobed mass, painfully pressed into his
body cavity by its own, powerful scrotal muscle, and clinging to
the underside of the base of his cock.
The beautifully fit boy's body glistened with agonised sweat. He
thrust his head from side to side, randomly and spasmodically as
I gently rubbed the special lubricant into the perfect flesh of
his penis. His body twitched and squirmed in anguish. Darryl's
face--still enchanting despite his throes of agony--retained its
boyish look of eager, animated youthfulness. His monumental
distress could not detract from his inherent beauty.
The entire look of him was pure energy--healthful and
effervescent, with his sweet boy scent emanating, erotically, his
exposed, clenched teeth, and the tight, pulled-back flesh of his
face. I loved the sound of a boy hissing through his teeth.
I could not imagine a torture more exquisitely couched, in
contrasts--the pleasure of the penile contact, and the pervasive
ache for relief. I worked in this way for some time, also using
my lips, occasionally, on the full length of his pole--tasting
delicious boy sweat and pre-cum through the clear, unflavoured
lubricant. I thrilled to the sounds of Darryl's tense hissing,
punctuated with sweet, low erotic moans and ragged breaths.
After coaxing an teasing the twitching lad, relentlessly, I had
brought the unfortunate boy to the brink of sexual climax and
denied his release so many times that he screamed and squirmed,
violently in his tight bonds--gasping, grunting, and squealing
with every touch of my finger. Darryl knew I wasn't going to let
him cum now, although I could tell he was trying his best to do
so. The delicate stroke of my slippery hand, held loosely around
his starving penis was beginning to get a bit more torturous for
the excited teen. I stepped back for a moment to get a better
look at him.
The quality of his stare was arousing. There was energy in
Darryl's dark, pleading eyes, yet there was a great deal of
determination there also, as I had not begun to tap Darryl's
stamina; but there was an expression of surprise--as if shocked
at the power of his own libido; shocked that his body had not co-
operated in attaining his release, in not allaying the torture of
prolonged arousal and denial.
As I began to move toward him again, Darryl pushed himself back
against the pole, as if trying to get away, and he lurched,
furiously, if I so much as gestured toward his cock--which
throbbed with the swollen look of these grinding, gruelling
hours.
This was the ultimate moment in cock teasing and penile
manipulation--a beautiful boy, with possibly the biggest,
tightest erection of his life, in a state of sexual excitation so
compelling, so desperate that he needed to cum with his entire
being--aflame with passionate, youthful yearning.
He had begged, over and over for a full firm stroke of my hand
over his aching penis, and would have bargained away his life to
shoot his load. His pounding desperate need was worsened,
cruelly, by my too-delicate touches to the organ that was in
total control of him now--touches he craved so potently; each bit
of contact sending waves of carnal pleasure through his gleaming,
over-sensitised skin.
This was the peak, where the touch of a hand, a finger, on his
starving penis became more torture than sexual pleasure; more
agony than delight--now it became gruesome; now it was too much;
now his body finally reached the zenith of its tolerance, and in
an instant, pleasure became hideous, excruciating pain. He had
gone from mad desire to pure terror--fear of the next touch; fear
of what could happen if more was done to his organ--which had, by
now, along with his heaving, sweating body, flooded with
shockwaves of unbearable sensations. He could take no more.
He could not think clearly, at this point. He was coming truly
undone--on the outer edge of sanity.
"Ohhhh Ahhhhhh UHHHH! OH GOD!!!"
Such emphatic vocalisations were out of character for Darryl, who
tended to be more self-controlled, but served to confirm the
effectiveness of my treatment. I had to press on.
"Ah, Darryl. What a beautiful penis, boy. Your nice
little hardon is throbbing. And it's quite swollen. It looks
cold, and lonely, boy. I think it needs a mouth to warm it up
and comfort it. You agree, don't you?" It was by no means,
'little.'
"NO! NO! GOD NO! SIR--PLEASE! Whip it--ANYTHING... uh...
not--No... NO... Unnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Darryl seemed enjoy my oral talents, in spite of his protest, and
his dick was particularly animated. Of course I had to take him
up on his offer, so I donned my 'sandpaper gloves,' which were
coated with a fine-grit abrasive. I did not want to break the
skin, or excessively irritate it, so I slid a few sand-covered
fingers around the very red penis, producing some of the most
amazing baritone and tenor sounds, which Darryl apparently spared
no energy in expressing. Surely, this slight pain would be a
small relief for the lad--contrasting, elegantly, with the
previous soft touch of my tongue. I hated to stop this wonderful
moment of erotic communication, this ability to play him--have
him sing his sweet songs to me in exotic, adolescent tones--
responding to my every move, and thrashing about, as I flicked
and slid the gritty fingers around his delicate, tortured flesh.
I decided I had to have him in my mouth again, while he was still
screaming, and slowly impaled myself on him. The sensation in
the mouth from vibrations of a very hard penis while its owner is
screaming, are indescribable. I continued for some time,
delicately torturing the boy, with tongue and lips.
"You taste so good, Darryl. I felt your strong throbs in my
mouth. You need to have your penis comforted and sucked, boy.
Again and again."
I proceeded to engulf the hot, towering, adolescent erection--
sliding as I pressed my tongue deliciously against it. Darryl
pounded his head, repeatedly, against the pole he was tied to;
wrenched and twisted--in a vain attempt to escape from the
inescapable pleasure that was now gruesome torture, for the lad.
"No. Not again. AhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
I wondered which was the more exquisite sensation for the poor
boy--his colossal ache for orgasm, his fear of further touching,
or the gut-wrenching pain of his tight, swollen scrotum.
I stepped back to look at the pair of them--Darryl moaning in
agony, Tim writhing in arousal and frustration. What delectable
boys! I began to ponder the next, more painful phases of
punishment, for the twins.
_________________________________________________________
--Danny Meyer, May 8, 2001 sittinhome@hotmail.com
(Request reply, if desired)
(Please read below)
To be continued? It's up to you.
Email is the only reward a writer receives.
Do I get your reward, today?
Do you like it? Got ideas? Tell me. I don't bite.
DARE TO GO WHERE YOU'VE NEVER GONE BEFORE AND WRITE ME.
sittinhome@hotmail.com (Mark mail "Reply, yes" for a reply)
(If not, I'll respect, and won't reply)
(Scroll down for FAQ.)
_________________________________________________________
If you want more, kindly write to me at the address, below.
It helps me to write a more interesting chapter if you also tell
me some of your preferences.
Write to Danny, at this address:
sittinhome@hotmail.com If you want a reply, read below.
If you'd like me to REPLY, mark your email, "Reply--yes,"
or some other clear wording requesting a response.
**I don't use group mail, so my reply will be personal, to you.
If you don't get a reply, it is because you forgot to tell me you
wanted one, or those 'rare' occasions when email disappears in
cyberspace.
If you've written before, thank you. Let me hear from you again.
FAQ: (Frequently Asked Questions)
----------------------------------
Q: Do you have any other stories out?
A: No. So far, this is my only story.
Q: I go to the Author Listing and I don't find you there. Why?
A: That listing is for authors who have written lots of stories,
only. It is not a complete list of authors.
Q: Is your story on other sites?
A: Yes, I've been told. I don't know the site names, or URLs,
and I'm not sure how to get that information.
Q: Can you send me a chapter or part of a chapter?
A: No. You must access the story through sites such as Nifty.
Q: Do you get paid or other compensation for writing this?
A: No. Emails sent by the readers are rewarding, however. The
emails are the only reward or acknowledgement I get, other
than an email from Nifty, saying that the chapter was added
to my story.
Q: Do you get feedback on how often your story gets read--
reports, or anything like that?
A: That would be nice, but no. The emails from readers are the
only feedback, and the best feedback.
Q: How long does it take you to write a chapter?
A: About one to two hours per K. This chapter is 60 K. Initial
'writing' is about 1/3 of that time. 2/3 is editing.
Q: I use WEB-TV and can't get to the stories, anymore.
A: You must be reading this on a friend's computer, then. I've
been told that the recent (February?) WEB-TV upgrade is the
culprit. I've seen it said that downgrading to the previous
version of WEB-TV will allow you access. Nifty Archive has a
notice about this on their front page.
Thanks. --Danny Meyer
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