Date: Fri, 25 May 2007 19:20:52 +0100 (BST)
From: WILL OBE <will.obe@btinternet.com>
Subject: OBEYING PETER Chapter 8

OBEYING PETER
by will obe

Chapter 8

The Gamekeeper has fucked his bitch, me. Now he pulls up his pants and runs
off through the trees followed by his barking dog. I'm left there naked and
bent over, his spunk trickling down my legs. I savour the humiliation until
I hear the hunting dogs and the whoops and whistles of George and Edward as
their horses crash through the trees. Fortunately they're on the other side
of the stream.

I admit the thought of being cornered by hunting dogs and my ensuing dog
rape until George and Edward rescue me by cracking their whips to clear the
dogs and then whipping my naked flesh holds me for a few seconds, but I
decide although the fantasy is very much my scene, it is a step too
far. Instead I make off through the trees and eventually come to a main
road. Now what? A naked guy thumbing a lift? I walk along the road and dive
for cover whenever a vehicle approaches from either direction. Coming to
the edge of a village I find myself walking past what must be the village
football club. On the far side of the field I can see a white painted
clubhouse illuminated by the full moon.

Country people are so trusting. The door of the pavilion is open. Inside
are odd items of clothing and I'm able to cover my nakedness with some old
dirty white shorts and an oversize dirty red football shirt. Both smell
wonderfully of someone else's sweat. I put them on and a pair of old
trainers.

Avoiding cars, I eventually thumb a lift on a truck with a driver who is
friendly and chatty. Buy mostly about football and his girlfriend. He drops
me off in central London on the Thames Embankment. It's a warm humid night
and well after midnight. Being dog-tired I find an empty park bench, curl
up like the other down and outs on other benches and quickly drop off to
sleep. Sometime after dawn I'm prodded awake.

"You've ten minutes to clear off or you're for it," a woman's voice.

It's a policewoman and her male sidekick. They walk off laughing, leaving
me to yawn and stretch my limbs before I naturally do as I've been told to
do and wander off down a side street of expensive houses and apartment
blocks. The only people up and about are joggers and a postman. I'm getting
desperate for a piss and luckily at the next corner find a walk down
Victorian lavatory. It's dimly lit and smells of urine and disinfectant. I
step up to the trough and I'm just starting to piss when a very tall, hunky
young jogger in a tracksuit steps up beside me and hauls out a long very
nice cock. I look up into his hazel coloured eyes and we smile at each
other. He reaches out, tucks up my shirt and squeezes with my nipples until
I'm wincing. Lowering his hand he gently grips my now hardening prick and
drops the fingers of his other hand into my piss stream. The same fingers
move around and down the back of my shorts where they start probing into
and finger fucking my boycunt.

"You like that?" he asks.

"Oh yes Sir."

"I've a feeling you like doing as you're told? Especially in a public
place?"

I hear someone coming down the steps, but The Jogger's holding me and I
can't move.

"I do Sir."

The newcomer is a young postman. He drops his postbag in a corner and comes
over to take a piss on my other side.

"Okay, lets do it right. Strip everything off and let us see you naked."

"Yes Sir."

I drop my shorts and bend to take them off together with the trainers as
the Jogger and Postman drag off my shirt. Now I'm naked in front of them
with the Jogger's finger back in my anus and the Postman tweaking my
nipples with one hand and stroking my prick with the other.

"That's a nice caned ass you have baby. Bit noisy to belt you here. Perhaps
some other time? What you say?"

"Whatever you say Sir."

"Good, Now before we fuck you, anything else you would really like us to do
babe?" asks the Jogger.

"Will you both piss over me Sir?" In this place I can't resist this fantasy
of mine.

"Lie down on your stomach, spread-eagled."

Down I go, flat on my face, the cold tiled floor making me feel the reality
and degradation of the scene.

Two streams of piss cascade over me. Onto my hair, neck, feet, ass and
back.

"Turn over piss boy."

Now it's my face, chest, erect prick and shaved balls.

"Open that mouth and let's see you drink."

Jogger and Postman aim their cocks at my mouth. I can see them grinning
down at me on the floor as I try to swallow all their yellow piss. It
overflows onto the floor and I feel myself wallowing in a pool of piss. As
I lie there catching the last few drips they jiggle from their cocks I hear
more footsteps and struggle to sit up. The jogger places a large wet
trainer on me to keep me down.

"Stay boy. Don't you want to be on view to all comers?"

Now it's a young guy in a business suit I guess on his way to work.

"What you got here Clive?" he addresses the Jogger as he looks down at me.

"Fancy a piss Bruce?" asks Clive.

"I'm bursting for one, but I want to shag him afterwards."

"Join the queue," says the Postman.

Bruce drops his suit trousers and briefs. Looking up I see a lovely hairy
balls and a great cock in every sense of the word. He controls his spray of
warm urine and covers my whole body before squatting down; his cock a few
inches from my face and releases a torrent of piss. I open my mouth and
drink. Clive and the Postman watching, wanking their hard cocks.

They haul me to my feet and bend me over in front of Bruce's still dripping
cock. I take it eagerly into my mouth as the Postman thrusts his cock up my
fuckhole and Clive starts pumping his cock in my face next to the one I'm
sucking on hard. I'm delirious with sexual excitement as these three guys
use me. The Postman is grunting as he grinds his cock up my ass. More
grunts and a shout as he unloads and I feel the spurts of his cum shooting
into me. I hear him scrabbling to pull up his pants and then his feet
pounding up the steps. Clive swiftly inserts his cock into my mouth as
Bruce moves to thrust his cock up my spunk filled hole. They both fuck me
hard at each end and I'm on cloud nine.

"What you think Bruce? Worth missing your coffee for?"

"Couldn't believe it when you phoned me to join you here," puffs Bruce as
he goes at me hard, "that you'd sighted a pretty blond cutie going for a
piss."

"Thought he might be up for more. Wasn't I right fuckboy?"

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir."

"Just listen to him Brucie. A born again sub-boy needing to be dominated."

"He's come to the right place in that case. Are you owned by anyone babe?"
asks Bruce.

"No Sir," the lie comes out easily because I don't want to explain about
Master Peter and George and Edward to these guys.

My answer seems to feed their desire and my mouth and butthole can hardly
cope with their fast and furious redoubled thrusts.

Now, as they fuck, they shout out a mixture of dominant abuse.

"Take it whore... cuntboy... bitch... babe slave... swallow my seed... take
it... oh yeah girlie-boy... you worthless bit of shit...  aaaargh...
aaaargh... hellfire... up your ass boy.

Please let me know if this chapter has made you hard and cumming.
will.obe@btinternet.com