Date: Sun, 7 May 2006 15:20:29 -0700 (PDT)
From: Hank M <redbeardedsf@yahoo.com>
Subject: Taking Wally to Gaytown, part 4

TAKING WALLY TO GAYTOWN, psrt 4
By Master Redbeard
(redbeardedsf @ yahoo.com)


(This story is inspired by Waddie Greywolf, who was himself inspired by
Richard Davis. Greywolf allowed me to read an advance chapter of a story
that is as-yet unpublished. His story is about a fundamentalist Christian
father in Texas who enslaves his sons. My story about a father and his sons
is very different from Waddie's, but it is based in the same universe and
was inspired by reading Waddie's story.)


(This is a fantasy story set in a world in which slavery exists. This story
includes gay sex, some of which happens between an adult man of 18 and
older men. If any of this is offensive to you or if it's illegal to read
such a story in your jurisdiction, go away now. If you have trouble
differentiating between reality and fantasy, do not read this story - go
get help now.)


How much of this could I blame on all the alcohol I had consumed?


I was completely sober the previous day when I found the naked sex pictures
of men among my son's things. And I was clearheaded when I enslaved Wally
in accordance with everything I (and my church) believed. It had been a
strange experience taking my boy to the slave hall in Gaytown. As a devout
Fundamentalist Christian, I had avoided interacting with people like
that. But the Major, the man who had ultimately purchased Wally, did not
seem like one of those gays at all. I was pleased when he told me that the
only sex he had with men was using slave boys. Both of us belonged to
churches that preached that sex with a slave boy did not count as the sin
of homosexuality.


The Major was an impressive man, a real man's man. He had paid $120,000 for
Wally - more money than I'd ever known in my life. His insistence that I
attend his birthday party that night hadn't seemed like much. I even
surprised myself by getting along with most of the gay guests at his
gathering. When I'd expressed concern as to whether any gay sex might be
happening at his party, the Major assured me that the only sex would be
"with the slave boy" so it would not be sinful in the eyes of my church. Of
course, in this case, the slave boy was my newly enslaved oldest son.


But Wally had been caught up in an odd party game that the Major
devised. He made his new slave dress in some of his free boy clothes and
act the part of a free boy who was brought to the party by his father. I
had played along and even chuckled as I told my "supposedly free" son to be
nice to the men, to let them touch him or take down his pants. The Major
had encouraged Wally to react like a free boy and for a moment the boy had
tried to fight off the men and get away from them. But now he was bent over
a table, his undershirt pulled up under his armpits and his briefs tangled
in his thighs.


The Major stood over my son lightly touching his own large penis. "Once
you're broken in as a slave, boy, nobody will have to hold you down for me
to fuck you," he said philosophically. "But for tonight, when the spirit of
a free boy still runs through your body, it'll be a special kind of fun."


"Please, sir," Wally called out breathlessly. "I'm not a slave. My dad made
a mistake. You know I'm not a queer boy. You know I don't belong a
slave. Tell my dad. Please, sir, don't do this to me."


The Major moaned and said, "You know how to make an old man's cock throb
even harder, little fella." The men gathered around as the Major slapped
the teen ass and said, "Just yesterday afternoon, gentlemen, this cute
little ass was swimming in a small town community pool. Just yesterday he
pulled down his swimsuit in that locker room in front of a bunch of his
high school buddies and showered with them after their swim. All those
other free boys got a look at these delectable cheeks and the hairless
crack between them."


Warren had been hungrily and noisily licking out Wally's butthole. At that
point, the big man smacked his lips and said, "None of them knew that the
very next day this boy's delectable ass would be main course at a banquet
in Gsytown." Now there was raucous laughter, including the Major. But I saw
that Wally was quietly sobbing as he lay pinned to the table by the group
of older men.


Warren had been pushed from his place at my son's butt and now the Major
was standing there, gently touching the head of his thick penis around the
opening of Wally's anus. The man was using his cock to toy with the boy's
ass.


Wally was softly whimpering, "Daddy, don't let them. Daddy you can stop
them. Give him back the money, daddy. Don't make me be his slave, daddy." I
sat upright. Through the alcohol fog, I took in the scene. For a moment I
reacted as any father might. I saw my innocent teenage son being
overpowered by a group of men. His clothes had been ripped off and he was
pinned across a table with a big penis threatening his bottom. For that
split second I was ready to rush over to the table and fight those men to
protect my boy.


But then the Major called out to me, "Dad! We need you here, dad!" I shook
my head and the fog cleared once more. That very afternoon I had sold my
son Wally into slavery and the Major was his owner. Everything I was
watching was a game being played for the Major's birthday party. Well, I
suppose it wasn't a game to Wally. He was dealing with the very real
situation of having been stripped, bent across a table and pinned, and now
had the hands of a bunch of homosexuals all over his exposed body and had a
thick cock head toying with and threatening his anus.


When I looked up in response to the Major, I tried to adjust the crotch of
my pants. I didn't want to come closer to his group of men displaying my
obvious erection. But he just smiled and said, "We've all seen that you're
hard, man, and none of us blame you. Come as you are. We want to make use
of that weapon of yours."


There was a loud holler from Wally as I approached the table. When I was
close enough to see there was the Major's thick penis stuck into Wally's
bottom hole. From the length still exposed, it was clear that only the very
head of his cock was inside the boy. But even with that, I saw that Wally's
face was flushed red and he was breathing hard as if he'd just run a
race. The Major was rotating his hips to the right and to the length. He
remarked that this was a good way to stretch out a fresh boy hole. He then
assured me that, whatever else Wally may have done, the boy's ass had never
before been invaded. Each time the Major pushed forward a little bit more,
Wally grunted and breathed hard. But there were no more shouts as there had
been with the initial entry.


I didn't understand whether the Major had called me over to the table just
so I could be a close-up eyewitness to my son's deflowering. Was this why
he wanted me at his birthday party? When the Major came to rest I saw that
the entire root of his large cock was all the way inside my son's
rectum. His lush salt and pepper pubes were pressed right up against
Wally's hairless round cheeks.


At that point the Major smiled at me and said, "I want you to be the first
to feed a load of cum down the boy's throat."


I looked down at my son's beautiful face. His lips barely moved and the
sound barely emanated from them as he whispered, "Daddy, no." How could I
do what the Major asked me to do? And yet my cock was throbbing in my
jockstrap and precum was oozing out of its head as I focused on those soft
pink lips.


"Come on, man," the Major said with a mixture of impatience and good
cheer. "All my buddies here are jealous of you. I know they'd all like to
go first. But given your special relationship and your history with my new
slave boy, I insist that you take that honor.


"I know you've put that cock of yours into slave boy mouths before. That
doesn't detract from you being a straight man. And since it was sex with
slaves that doesn't take anything away from you being a good Christian."
The Major chuckled softly and seemed to be adjusting the position of his
hips, which moved his cock that was deeply embedded in my son and caused
Wally to gasp. "But look at the lips on this boy. I bet you've never had a
slave boy suck you who had such a pretty face. Look how soft the lower lip
is. Just touch your finger to his lower lip. See how his lips quiver in
anticipation when you touch them lightly. Look at the way the boy's upper
lip curls up. That's what I call a cocksucker mouth.


"Look at that look in the boy's eyes. He keeps telling you he doesn't want
it. He keeps telling you that he's a straight boy. But look in his
eyes. How long has this boy been dreaming of a chance to kiss his daddy's
big cock? And you know what kind of dreams I'm talking about, dad." There
was something hypnotic about the Major's voice. I wanted to pull away and
let these men continue their games without me. But then the big man said,
"Just take it out of your pants, dad. Take it out and have the boy give it
a kiss for you - a kiss you'll both remember for the rest of your lives."


And just like that I found myself opening my belt and unzipping my pants. I
let them fall knowing my shirttail covered my exposed ass. Some man
remarked, "He wears a jockstrap?" and another said, "Men with big dicks who
don't want to go around showing off." But all these sounds were going on in
the background. My focus was all on the table in front of me. Wally's chest
was pressed against the table. His t-shirt was pulled up revealing his
spine and lower back, but was still tangled under his armpits. His butt was
at the edge of the table sticking up and the Major was attached deep inside
the boy. One man was holding one of Wally's arms down, while another man
held his other arm. There had been more men pinning him initially, but now
the Major and I were in position to hold him in place.


I pulled down the front of my jockstrap and my thick cock popped out. I was
close to 40. I couldn't remember the last time my cock had been so
rigid. It stood out on its own. I brought it close to Wally's lips. The boy
looked up at me and said, "D-daddy, don't. I'm not a..." Whatever he had
meant to be the next word in that sentence was lost in a gurgle and a slurp
and a gag as I slid my thick cock between his lips. I don't know what
possessed me. I had merely intended to put my cock head to his lips for a
kiss. But as soon as I made contact, I just wanted to go deep inside that
mouth.


Soon my hips were moving back and forth. Someone called out, "Yeh, feed the
boy your spunk, daddy!" and I started going at it with more fervor. But
Wally was gagging and choking and struggling. I pulled away. When I looked
across to the other side of the table, the Major was gently sliding his
thick cock in and out of Wally's asshole. "Go on. The boy needs to learn to
suck a big one!" the Major barked at me.


Warren turned out to be truly helpful then. He turned Wally's face so the
boy's throat was lined up with his mouth and then nodded to me to go for
it. Just then a man touched my butt and I jerked away. Warren admonished
the crowd, reminding them that I was straight and didn't want any of them
touching me. As I was about to thank him he said, "But you could do us all
a nice turn and take off your shirt. You're quite a man, dad. We'd all like
to get a good show of you feeding dick to your son." I was flattered and
even as I started slowly sliding my cock in and out of Wally's mouth, I
unbuttoned my shirt, let it fall to the floor, and then peeled off my
undershirt. My wife had complained I was too hairy to suit her, and I
suppose I was even hairier as I got older. But these men didn't seem to
mind as they whistled and gave catcalls. I'm sure they were just having fun
- I'm at an age where I'm getting a beer gut and my muscles are not as hard
and defined as when I was young.


I looked across to the Major and he and I seemed to be in sych with our
movements. He called out, "Time for some longdicking!" This meant that he
pulled his cock almost all the way out of the boy's butt and then slid the
full length in fast and smooth. Each time the Major slid his cock deep in,
Wally grunted and his grunts were massaging my cock head and making me leak
copious amounts of goo down the pretty slave boy's throat.


That's when I truly began to my son's mouth. Now I was longdicking him. I
looked down at his beautiful features. The same cute nose, the same sweet
lips, the same soft blond hair he'd always had. Only now his face was
distorted and his lips stretched around my thick erection. Men were calling
out obscenely, "Daddy's gonna feed you his sperm, boy." "Daddy's breaking
in that mouth, boy, make you an expert cocksucker." "Eat it, Wally. Be a
good boy for your dad."


There was no way I could hold back. I cannot describe what my scream of
release was like because it was as if it was someone else screaming in some
far-off dimension. My cock felt like a cannon and I could not stop for a
moment to give any consideration to Wally's mouth that had to deal with the
outpouring from my organ. I was brought back to reality by the shouts of
the Major who collapsed forward across my son's torso. I could tell from
the redness of his face and the way he was gasping for breath that the big
man was filling the boy's guts with semen.


When I eased my penis out of Wally's mouth my cream dripped from his
lips. The Major reached for the boy's face and pinched his cheek as he said
sweetly, "In future, you'd best not spill a drop or you'll be
punished. But, after all, this is your birthday, little fella."


I could barely stand up. Warren helped me over to one of the sofas where I
fell across it. I didn't fight him as he took off my boots, my pants and my
jockstrap. But he didn't make any attempt to molest me. Any other time it
would've bothered me to have a bunch of homosexuals see me naked like that,
but none of the men were looking at me - their attention was directed to my
newly enslaved son.


Brian, the retired actor, called out, "I wanna taste his daddy's spunk
right off his tongue." Then the rugged man grabbed Wally and gave the boy a
sloppy kiss. I could tell even from the distance that Brian's tongue was
deep in my son's throat. I blinked at the scene. I had recently seen one of
Brian's old movies on the late show, a western, and he had given a steamy
kiss to a beautiful Mexican actress. But the kiss he gave my son was much
more passionate.


I heard someone else call out, "Let's have the boy judge a kissing
contest. C'mon, Wally, you'll pick who kisses best."


That's when I fell asleep. I never saw any of the kissing contest and never
found out who was judged the winner. When I opened my eyes I wasn't sure
what was a dream and what was reality. There, in front of me, I saw Wally
dressed in his new blue suit, with a pressed white shirt, a dark tie, and
his black dress shoes. I had bought him that suit to wear to college
interviews. He had worn it to deliver his graduation speech. He only wore
it to church on special occasions. Now, as I drank in the scene, the boy
seemed to be standing on a low table and delivering his graduation speech.


Was I dreaming this scene of him delivering his speech? Or perhaps the
whole enslavement had been a dream? Maybe I had fallen asleep during the
graduation ceremony? But then I became aware that I was sprawled naked on a
sofa in a lavish parlor. And I became aware that five of the original
partygoers were gathered around the boy, listening to his speech. The men,
however, were all in various states of undress. A few were totally
naked. The rest had their clothes opened and disheveled. Some sported
erections quite openly.


As my son delivered his graduation speech from memory, the men shouted
encouragement, but they also touched him sensually. One naked man got on
the table behind Wally, reached around and opened the boy's blue suit
pants, pulling them down. Wally faltered in the speech, but the man behind
him called out, "Keep going, boy. You were doing fine." Two different hands
were already reaching inside the front of my son's briefs at the same time,
while the man behind him was reaching around and ripping the buttons from
his nice white shirt.


A vague thought occurred to me that I should protest the way they were
ruining good clothes. But then I realized how silly that was. I was going
to give those clothes away anyway and, as far as I was concerned, the
clothes were the property of the Major, my son's new owner. I became aware
of the Major sitting sprawled out on the sofa directly across from me. The
man was naked except for his cowboy boots and was lightly toying with his
semi-erect penis as he watched the scene unfold. He smiled at me and said,
"That's some boy you've got there."


I just said, "He's your boy now, Major." Then I fell asleep again.


It seemed as if I was asleep for less than a minute when a loud holler woke
me. "Fu-u-u-u-uck!" boomed a powerful man's voice. My eyes blinked open and
I saw that Mel, the short banker, was fucking Wally in the ass. Two
different men were holding Wally's feet in the air and wide apart. The boy
was still wearing his dress shoes and black socks, and there were tattered
bits of fabric that had once been blue slacks. Mel was naked and had a very
toned body for a man in his 40s. And he was obviously in the midst of a
powerful orgasm as he spewed forth a string of epithets and filthy
blather. Then he was trying to catch his breath but telling the other men
who had been watching, "The next time some pretty boy like this, wearing a
blue suit like this, comes into my office for a job interview, I want all
you guys to be there to rip his clothes and hold him while I fuck his ass."
There were some scattered chuckles. I realized that Wally being dressed in
the suit and reciting his graduation speech was all part of the game the
Major had started - pretending they were having sex with a free boy.


This time when I fell asleep I was sure I would sleep soundly. But I was
awoken by a bump and a thud. I wiped my eyes and realized that the sofa I
was lying on had been bumped. Not three feet away from me on the adjoining
sofa I saw my son sitting on the lap of his former swim coach, Ryan. The
look on Ryan's face made me think that I had been bumped on purpose. He
grinned and said, "Sorry to wake you, dad. This is how I've wanted to see
Wally all night. Actually, this is how I've always wanted to see Wally."


Wally was wearing an old pair of Speedos I had tossed into the duffel
bag. They had the high school name across the rump. Ryan was naked, one arm
around Wally's shoulder pulling the boy against his chest, his other hand
exploring Wally's body, pinching and twisting his nipples roughly, then
fondling between the boy's legs, squeezing at his flesh. The look of
unhappiness on my son's face made me glad that I hadn't ended up selling
him to Ryan and his older lover.


Ryan looked at me slyly and said, "I'll show you what I dreamed of doing
each day after swim practice with your boy here. I used to look in on the
boys in the showers, always paying special attention to little Wally and
always getting where I could see his round little ass cheeks. Hell, the kid
had a fuckable bottom even back then."


Leaning toward Ryan I used my quietest but most intense voice to say, "You
sick fuck, he was just a little kid then, and he looked even younger than
his age."


Ryan started laughing out loud. He pushed Wally from his lap and positioned
the boy so he was bent over the sofa. Wally was standing with his knees
resting against the front of the sofa, but was bent over so his face and
arms were resting on the back of the sofa. Ryan then took a huge knife and
I was about to lunge for the man to protect the boy when he used the blade
to cut the side of Wally's Speedos. The knife was tossed aside and the
fabric from the swimsuit fell away but still clung around one of Wally's
thighs.


"You sold your son into slavery today and you fucked him in the throat. If
you wanna see a sick fuck, look in the mirror!" That said Ryan positioned
the head of his penis against Wally's butthole. From my vantage point I
could see that my son's anus was already distended and wet from previous
fuckings. Then in one swift move Ryan shoved the full length of his cock
all the way inside Wally.


Wally's howl of pain turned into a series of staccato sobs. But Ryan would
not let up. He was determined to fuck my son as hard as he could. Each time
Ryan's larger body slammed into Wally's butt, all the air seemed to be
knocked out of the boy.


"P-p-please, sir, you're h-h-hurting me. C-c-coach, p-please."


"For the love of God, you bastard, you're hurting the poor kid," I shouted,
standing to my full height.


That's when I became aware of the Major, who was still reclining nearly
naked (he still kept his boots on) on the third sofa. In a calm voice, he
said, "Now, hold on, dad, you're a bit out of line there. That slave boy is
my property and he has to get used to being used any way my guests like."


I collapsed onto the sofa. Was that the moment I was hit with the full
impact of what I'd done? The son I had raised for eighteen years was now
another man's wholly owned property. Warren appeared then, took me by the
arm and helped me up, saying, "I think you should've been in bed a while
back, dad." I was wobbly on my feet.


As Warren helped me slowly out of the room I could hear the continual bang
and oomph of Ryan's rough sex with my son. I also heard Ryan rattling on in
a loud voice, "One day while you were in the pool I went back to the locker
room and I got your white underpants out of your locker, Wally. I wrapped
your briefs around my thick man-sized cock and beat off. I didn't sperm all
that much since I was beating off a lot on days we had swim practice, but I
wiped my spunk inside your underpants, little fella. I watched when you
pulled those briefs up yr smooth little legs that day and when I knew you
had my spunk against your hairless cheeks and balls..."


Warren and I were on the second floor and I couldn't hear any more of
Ryan's story. But hearing what my son's middle school coach had been saying
didn't even faze me. There had been too much to absorb that day. With
Warren's help I found the room where the Major had placed me. I saw that
large double doors were open between my bedroom and the Major's bedroom. I
fell into the bed and pulled the blanket around me. Warren took a seat
beside me and just looked at me for a moment.


"Ryan is going to get his," the heavyset man said in a matter-of-fact way.


"What?"


"That snotty son-of-a-bitch who was fucking the new slave so hard and
hurting him - he's going to be enslaved within a matter of months."


This had gotten my attention and I encouraged Warren to continue. He said,
"Nigel always finds these cute young guys and is always so solicitous of
them. He spoils them rotten and these boys start to think they're real hot
shit who have Nigel wrapped around their little fingers. But after about
two years Nigel loses interest. That's coming up pretty soon for Ryan. I
can see a lot of the signs.


"Within a few months, maybe weeks, Ryan will find out that all those papers
he signed were loans from Nigel, and he'll find out the loans are due and
that he is legally enslaved. Nigel has a little habit of taking the money
he gets from enslaving one boyfriend and using it for a lavish vacation
with the next boyfriend."


"You're saying this old guy has followed the same pattern over and over?" I
asked incredulous.


Warren nodded and went on, "If you're wondering why nobody has told Ryan,
it's because Ryan is such a total son of a bitch that nobody cares to let
him know. That's the other funny thing in the pattern - Nigel always
chooses a good-looking athletic fellow who's thoroughly nasty and
obnoxious."


"How does someone get into a pattern like that?" I asked, suddenly feeling
wide awake.


Chuckling, Warren said "Who knows what goes on in those English boarding
schools that Nigel attended so many decades back?"


Then Warren looked at me as if considering whether he wanted to continue
the conversation. "Do you want to know about the Major's pattern?" Warren
asked. The look in my face clearly gave him an affirmative answer. "I've
known the Major longer than any of these others. I knew him back when he
was still married to a woman and keeping his attraction to men on the down
low. But this incident I'm going to tell you about happened after he was
divorced, kind of early in the time he was leading a gay life, and well
before he made his peace with the Lord and joined his present church.


"The Major has homes in different parts of the world - usually places he
has business interests. This happened on the day of his 40th birthday and
we were celebrating with a group of gay friends, holding a barbecue at a
home he has overlooking the Mississippi River. He got a phone call from the
office and when he came back outside to join us he was grinning like a cat
that ate the canary and holding a copy of the small town newspaper.


"We were all curious what was going on. He told us the phone call had been
from an employee who had to come and bring him an envelope. He then opened
the newspaper and showed us a photograph of a boy in a baseball uniform -
this very pretty boy, blond hair in his eyes and adorable smile, had been
the hero of the league championships. The Major pointed to the picture and
told us this boy was the son of the employee who was coming to deliver the
envelope. Then he told us that he had encouraged the employee to bring
along his son for the ride. He had told the employee that he wanted to meet
the hero who had brought the league championship to their little town and
that the boy might enjoy a tour of the place.


"It was an hour later when the employee showed up. I think his name was
Martin, his last name I mean. This Martin fellow was quite a hunk to begin
with. Blond crew cut, shoulders out to here, a chest that was practically
popping his buttons, but slim hips and long strong legs. And it was clear
that this boy took after his father. The kid was named Cody I think and was
even cuter in person than in the newspaper. So the Major is all charm to
both of them. He wants the dad to stay and have a drink. He offers them
both some barbecue. And he's grilling them both to talk about themselves
and all this time he keeps refilling the dad's drink."


I looked away to hide the fact that I was blushing. Asking questions and
refilling drinks had been the Major's pattern with me.


"So then out of the blue the Major starts talking about the fact that he's
gay. He talks about the fact that all of his buddies at the barbecue were
either gay or they enjoyed dabbling with men. You could see Martin wasn't
used to being around gay people. First he sends his son to go and explore
the far side of the garden. Then he was squirming and looking at his watch
like he couldn't wait to get out of there and this employee was talking all
kinds of crap about how he's not prejudiced and he doesn't care what people
do in the privacy of their own bedrooms.


"But the Major isn't about to let this father and son leave that easy. They
got on the topic of age, this being the Major's 40th birthday. I remember
Martin was something like 33 or 34, but he could've passed for 26." I
started calculating in my head. I wasn't sure where this story was leading
but, if that was the dad's age, could his son be 18? Even as I was on the
verge of asking, I kept my mouth shut. Maybe there were some details better
not to know.


Warren continued without missing a beat, "The Major comes right out and
tells Martin what a good body he has and asks him to take off his
shirt. Now, this fella was the kind of guy where if someone gay came up to
him in a bar and made any kind of pass, he would beat the living daylights
out of the homo. But here's the owner of his company, this powerful wealthy
man, saying he'd like to see him without a shirt. Martin is hemming and
hawing and turning red and wondering if this is all a joke or a test. So
the Major looks him right in the eyes and says, 'Tell you what. If you
strip down to your underpants right now and spend the rest of the day with
me and my buddies just like that, I'll give you a thousand bucks.' This guy
is frozen. Like he never imagined hearing hearing such a thing and he
couldn't even be sure he had really heard it.


"When Martin finally talks, what do you think he says? He says, 'If you're
serious, I could really use that thousand bucks and it doesn't sound like
it'd do me any harm, but what about my boy being here?' So the Major looks
like he's thinking for a long minute and says, 'I'll give you two-thousand
bucks if you and your boy both strip to underpants and hang out with us for
the rest of the day without putting any clothes on.'


"Well now I'm really working hard not to crack up laughing. Y'see I knew
the Major well enough by then, and I knew the Major's tastes. Even though
the dad was hot and had a great body and would've been the fantasy man for
90-percent of gays out there, I knew the Major was more interested in
getting that son down to his underpants. And, well I guess you know the
Major can be a persuasive man. I was boning up wondering just what would
happen once this dad and son had both taken down their pants."


(end of part 4 - to be continued)