Date: Tue, 17 Mar 2009 14:01:44 +0900
From: mike lynch <lynch.um@gmail.com>
Subject: Whore and Order

Whore and Order
by Mike Lynch

Disclaimer: This is a imagined, fictional story that may contain
scenes of a graphical nature that may not be legal in your area. If
you are under 18, or if material of this nature is illegal in your
present location, exit now. Indifference to consequences of violent
and sexual activity can be undertaken with impunity only this
fictional world. When real, play safe.

Comments, ideas are welcome, feel free to contact me. Lynch.uM@gmail.com

Chapter One: The Rapture

`Fuck!'  I snap awake.   I nearly drove my Pajero off the road.   It
is about 3.30AM and I was sound asleep half an hour ago.  I flexed my
sore hand.  I had reacted automatically, backhanding my boy for not
waking me correctly.  It was only as I saw the phone's hand piece fly
across the floor that I understood there must be some emergency.
"Sorry master," he wined scurrying to retrieve it with difficulty in
the halters I left on him last night.  When he gave me the phone I
heard why he was confused.  Someone was yelling hoarsely into the
other end of the line.  I finally realized it was Crosser, a mate who
sounded like he was in real trouble through some practical joke would
not be beyond him.   More importantly he is the only major shareholder
of PRICKorp to live in my area.   I am the Director of the local
PRIC(Private Regional Institution for Correction), which makes Crosser
my boss and makes me jump even early Sunday morning.

I am ready to break in when I arrive at the house but I find the door
open.  As I enter I hear calls from the bedroom.   I carefully enter
to find a fellow dissipate shackled to his own bed.  He laughs and
cries when he sees me; I quickly turn my smirk to a sympathetic scowl.
  He obscenely berates me for the time it took me get here, while he
condemns the perpetrators of the vile insult to his dignity.
Eventually he tells me where I can find the keys to the cuffs that
held his hands and I am able to release him.  Minutes later over
scotch he tells me about it.  We have had these butch blabberings
about bonking before but never in circumstances like this.
"I want them caught and locked away if only because they stole my best
toys," he confides, "but keep it quite."
"Of course," I reassure.  I have a good memory so I need take no notes:

Statement by an impeccable source:

I am woken by mouth and tongue on my cock that has stirring before I
have.  Its tip is already emerging from its flesh coat.  It is guided
to semi-whole into spittle hole.  I throw the sheet aside and look
down on Paul's blond tussocks bobbling up and down on my crutch.  One
of my hands plays with his hair as the other searches for his other
fuck chute.  It is still creamy from my emissions delivered a few
hours ago.  Paul always expects a morning glory to finish our evening
get together and I am pleased to humour his vices.  He moans as I slip
my finger...
Ring, the front door bell.
Paul moves his full lips from my hard-on to nip my nipples then turns
to lie on his tummy so his...
Ring, Ring
"Who in God's name would be ringing the bell this early on a fucking
Saturday morning?" I curse.
"It might be important," Paul suggests facing me, leaning on an elbow.
 We often meet at the gym.   His tanned body had tone not muscles.
This suited his lean body.  His stiffy is declining in the strip of
white groin that emphasised his deep tan.
Ring, Ring, Ring.  I grudging get out of bed and slip on a sarong,
folding it so my priapic protrudence is hidden in its folds.

Ring, Ring.  Alright, this better be good I think as I open the door.
"Good morning sir could I interest you in some of our literature on
how our saviour is..."   Shit who else would it be this hour of a
Saturday.  The dark haired, black trousered, white shirted, black
tied, thirty odd bloke held a magazine to my face.  Behind him a young
lad identically dressed hung back, head down.  I just did not want to
even tell them to piss off so I pulled at my sarong and let it fall to
the ground.  I am tall, brunet with a little grey, work out, am well
hung.  My cock had retreated to its foreskin but it is still swollen
from interrupted congress.
"Sir you are offending my sensibilities," Or some such is uttered by
the bloke.  He even tried to hide my penis from his fellow postulate
with his religious mag.  This made me laugh.  He retreats away from my
threshold in panic.
"Come on Jonathan," he has to say because the young lad is still
standing staring at my crotch.  Jonathan blinks and obediently turns
and follows.

I watch them retreat down the garden path but as turned to shut the
door Paul pushes past me, dressed.
"Nice one," he said as he bent to kiss my cock, "must run."  He is
gone.  I furiously slam the door.   I am up now so I dress and head to
the shops for breakfast and groceries.   On the way back home an hour
or so latter I see Jonathan sitting on the fence of the house on the
corner of my street.  Well at least they will not be bothering me
again after my flash attack, I think.  I am wrong.  I have just dumped
the groceries on the breakfast bench and go to shut the front door
when I see Jonathan standing, shame faced, eyes down, framed in its
jamb.
"Hallo Jonathan," I say.  He grunts, his eyes on my chest.   Jonathan
is an obedient, polite boy so when I invite him: "come in," he obeys.
I shut the door behind him. I pull him further into my lounge room
using his tie.   I loosen it and take it off.  "Take ya shirt off," I
suggest.   He does slowly almost like he is teasing me.  Then I am in
no hurry, the day had an early start.

I say nothing more but the youth continues to disrobe slowly.  He has
a white Chesty Bond singlet he slips over his head.   He undoes his
belt and pants and they drop.  His undies are white with front pouch
with piss flap but only had a strap linking the front to the rear
elastic, this disappeared between his buttocks.  He is about to pull
them down.
"Leave them on," I order, "get the rest off."  His trousers are a
jumble around his black leather shoes.  He must bend to remove them.
I support his shoulder against my hip as I run my hand down his naked
back, around the cantaloupe buns of his posterior.  Tentatively a
middle finger explores his holy of holies, it is dry, virginal tight.
I am adding to the difficulty the lad has kicking off his shoes and
pants.  They end in a pile on living room floor.  He is tanned to his
briefs white to his knees tanned to his toes as one who wears
boardshorts.  His eyes are lowered as he stands to attention before
me.  His prick I see is also at attention within the confines of
cotton.  So is mine.

"Ya want to be ravished in the biblical sense," I amuse myself.  He is
uncomfortable, shuffling his feet on my lounge' carpet.  "Well if ya
want to make me sin with ya boy ya junna have to seduce me ya harlot.
I would not want to take advantage of ya."  A shake of his bent head.
I wondered if he could talk.  "Start undressing me."  I command.  I
reckon if I am to mine this lads shaft with my demon donger his is
going to have to help.  In half a minute he slips my T-shirt up over
my head.  I have no singlet and am taller then him so our chest touch,
he is goosebumped but his nipples are hot.  He bends to remove my
runners, undoes my belt, pulls down my cut-off shorts.  "Take the
briefs off too," I enlighten him.  When he slips them past my dick it
springs alive smacking him on the chin.  It is so hard it could raise
the dead.  He is frozen bent, looking at it.  My cock's twenty odd
centimetres is shaped like a flat arrow head.  It is its widest half
way along its length.  Its circumference at this place would be the
same as the length.  My cherub is drooling staring at my drooling
precum.  He kneels in homage to my manhood.

 "Lick it."  He tongues my head and fuck juices tentatively, I can see
his surprised by the bitter, savoury flavour of the communion.  For a
long while he played a hymn along my organ with his tongue, pausing at
my piss slit for the taste of my sex vinaigrette. "Suck it."  He takes
my cock into his mouth.  "Watch the teeth."  Once his are teeth out of
the way he easily communes with the bow of my boat shaped love loaf
but that is only half way.  "Take all of it."  I gave slight pressure
to the back of his head.  Jonathan has been taught to do what he is
told and tries to oblige.   My meat has convex sides so once the first
100 mil go down the next 100 slide in.  The kid choked, gagged, bit my
dick.  I clipped his ear for that.   My dick head get burnt by bile,
making me draw back. "It's alright," I reassured playing with his wavy
black hair, "just breath with it, like ya holding a note in choir."

I let him do his own thing, soon he had my cobra head sliding past his
lips, its thick centre jostling with his tonsils.  I am standing
without support.  I patiently wait till he swallows all my eclipse
into his throat.  With this and each of the subsequent passages I want
to violently wriggle my body, collapse in a heap and cream his
foodpipe.  Instead I tense my muscles mastering the eclectic ecstasy.
My new friend likes this, he massages the taunt muscles of my thighs,
heightening the pleasure, the need, making me tense the more.  His
sputum is dribbling down his chin, he wipes it away.  "Don't waste
that, prime ya anus so I can sodomise ya," I command him.  He obeys.
He is taking recovery breaths as he spits a great golly from his mouth
and transfers it into his rear sanctum.  He licks my balls, hands on
my taunt globular maxima, his tongue runs along my phallus, before
swallowing it again.

The lad's doing homage at my crotch altar lasts along time.  He adds
lots more spittle to his hole of glory.  I lean over his head to check
it out.  It is still tight but juicy.  In bending over him I ram my
penis deep into his oesophagus which involuntarily, sucks it
convulsively.  Jonathan and I teeter then start to collapse, me
forward, the lad backward.  We both use out arms to cushion the fall
but it ends with me on top of his face.  My cock is anchored deep in a
flood of digestive liquids and I can not stop pumping my host of seed
violently straight down his guts.
"Jesus fucking Christ," I yell ecstatic. After another moment I note
the kid cannot breathe so I sit back on his belly disengaging my snake
head, from his mouth.  It spits the last of it venom on his heaving
chest.   His deep desperate breaths lead to coughing, spluttering as
his mouth and windpipe are drowned in my jizt.  My bare buttocks can
feel the cum that has been deposited, at some stage, in his undies.

He is breathing freer and says the first thing since he arrived at my door.
"Thank (gerrgul) you sir."  He is looking for some where to spit.
Then he looks at me and remembers.  I lift myself off him so he can
add it to the other lop up his arse.  I move to the fridge.  He moves
to his clothes.
"Woow! Hold on there. I ain't ministered to ya rear cloister yet
mate."  A confused smile crossed his sweat covered countenance.  I go
to him and give him a beer.  As he took the alcohol a guilty look came
into his eyes.  This is strange given all the transgressions he had
just committed.  We both take a drink.  I am thirsty and he had a
foodpipe to wash.  I look down at him still on his haunches at my
feet.  His long tongue shots out lizard like to lap up a dangling dag
from the end of my dick.  We smile at each other.  He puts his beer on
the coffee table by a wall and starts to lick the diminishing arch of
my dick.  It stays in a detumescent curve as he lapped at the small
head that teetered  between lockerooming in its foreskin or leading
from the front.

I bend to place my beer next to his.  On the way up I check his butt
hole again.  It is still spittle lobbed and the lad gollies again into
his hand. He is leaning forward on one hand while he uses the other to
push sputum into his anal portal.  The youth takes a drink but as he
puts his beer back down he knocks mine over.  He stands it back up but
it is dripping off the table.  I give his left buttock a hard open
hand slap.
"Lick it up before it gets on the carpet".  He is on hands and knees
desperately trying to lick and suck up the spill flashing one red and
one white taillight at me.  My cock head takes the lead.  I kneel
behind him to take him doggie style.  I slide between his calves
spreading his thighs.  I pull his undies down under his butt cheeks.
This emphasises them like a pair of honey-dew melons. I feel his tight
ball sack and squeeze it.  Jonathan moans.  His has a stiff prick
inside the damp confines of his underwear.

He has one arm on the table the other on the floor.  I take a swig of
my beer, deliberately tipping what is left on the table and in his
hair.  So he continues to be occupied lapping it up as my cock tests
his sphincter.  The first deep probe I make of that inlet between
melon cliffs brings an instinctive pull away, dislodging my beachhead.
 I slap the cove's right melon, leaving bookend marks.  I lean across
him, forcing his face into the table.  I pick up his beer, straighten
up.  I look down on my servitor, my solid staff in mid air between us.
 After a big swig I tip some in the hollow between his shoulders.   I
tip the rest of the can on the table, on his head.  He shivers, licks.
 I positioned my cock then bend down to slurp the spill on his back.
My large hands grasp my catamite's cantaloupe buttocks, pulling them
towards me and apart.

My dick-head is in before he realises it but as my hard-on fanned out
he writhes under me, whimpers a little and sucks at the table hard.
Once the broad side of my elliptical cock is in it is a delicate
interplay between the desire of his anal sphincter to close tightly,
which draws me deeper, against the extent of his rectum and its
nascence to objects the size of my engorged penis.  Thus the natural
functioning of Jonathan's pleasure portal drew me deep into him.  I
pull back, in, soon I am rooting him.  At first I drive my meat back
in before half way out but soon I am coming almost out then shoving it
back in.  At first Jonathan's grunts and writhing would suggest he is
in purgatory but he is soon responding sending us both to heaven.  My
bell tower rings again below my slat hard steeple pumping my milk deep
into his honey arse-land.

I am done, about to pull out when I feel him cuming via the pulse of
his arse-blow.  I slide my steeple back in helping to push the spunk
from his balls while letting his arse ring the last of manner from my
bells.  Jonathan is a good boy, he keep his underpants on so none of
it got on the carpet.    I bend over him, lick his beery flesh, slurp
beer on the table.  Our lips meet and we nearly kiss but the angle
makes my detumescent cock suddenly slid out.  We are both `oooharring'
from extreme sensitivity.  I stand and look down.  My lolling
arrowhead points to the smirk on the youth's face.  I know I had one
on mine.  I expect him to have to go but he is content to have a
second beer.   His neat hair is now a mattered mess of dregged beer.
He smells like a brewery.  He tells some of his story.
"I'm no virgin."  He confesses.  " My broh, I mean my real brother or
half brother fucked me last summer.  He's a year younger than me.  His
why my dad kicked my mum out though he weren't born at the time if ya
know what I mean.  I ain't see her for years.  I find her, looked up
the divorce and stuff.  I meet David and he takes me surfing and
stuff.  Shit, if my dad knew.  He believes poofters like me should
spend a life in jail before we are doomed to hell."

While he goes to shower I think: no I am not surprised you are not a
virgin, your brother's younger than you, you dad's probably a
bog-poof, why am I here when he is in the shower?   He is on his
mobile when I enter the bathroom,
"I'm sure, hay I gotta go," he put the mobile down on the vanity.  He
is totally stripped.  He turns to me.   I see his prick and balls for
the first time.  The short, cut prick hung barely noticeable, in a
mass of black pubes mattered with dried spunk.  I had not bothered to
put on pants.  We were side on to the bathrooms large mirror, his
prick stiffens to about a dozen centimetres, as my phallus solidified
in the gentle tug of his hand.  He leads me by it into the shower.  I
turn on the water
"Ya know how ya made me wanna be fucked by you," he says soaping and washing me.
"Eh, yeh!"
"Well my brother wants ta be rooted, properly fucked but I am not the
man to do it," he admits kneeling to soap my legs, licking along my
cock at the same time.  I shampooed his hair.
"Well I'm sure we could do something if he co-operated, otherwise I
could tie him up?" I laugh.

He stood and we kiss on the lips but that is not what he wanted.  He
turned to the tilled wall parting his legs so I could bugger him
again.   He must have toileted because his arse shaft is tight, devoid
of my fuck dregs.  There is plenty of water and soap to allow me mount
a quick crusade on my acolyte's rear sanctuary, blasting it again with
my weapon of mass deposition.   We dried each other, I tickle him.  My
bathroom has an entrance to my bedroom.  We go there and I slip on a
sarong.  I delve into my special draw and get a piece of clothing for
Jonathan.  It is a kid leather cup with a waist and two garter like
thigh straps that buckle.   Jonathan covers his nuts and bolt leaving
hot arse on show.  I cook, the lad has steak, I have lamb chops, both
with salad.    We talk a little trite while we eat.  I do not really
know if I want him to hang around much longer when the front door
rang.
"That will be Bill," my companion chirps up.  His brother, Bill, is in
the doorway, he opened the door himself.  I think, no I never locked
it.
"How's my big brother," he says as he advanced into my house and
looked down on his sibling who had raced to meet him.

He is lanky, taller than me but the lanky frame could mature with
muscle and masculinity.  His hair is cut from inconvenient places like
over his eyes or ears, but is never brushed so it hangs in lank strips
of bleach blond and dark brown.  His long torso swam in the singlet he
wore.  It has a hole exposing a large magenta nipple with small ring.
His jeans were stove pipes but had no knees other than his own knobbly
ones.  They also had a stain around the inner thigh where his dick
hid.  I bet it is long and thin.   The long bony feet and toes are
shod in size twelve thongs.
"Something to eat," I offer him.
"A meat sandwich will suit me fine."  I offer a shower but he
declines.  He smells of sweat and ozone aphrodisiac.  He is drinking
form a bottle of `JB', did Jonathan raided my drinks cabinet or did
Bill bring it with him.  The white lines he spreads on my kitchen
bench are certainly his.  I decline the offer to sniff a line.  While
I am cleaning up, making his sandwich they are in the bedroom raiding
my toy draw.  What the heck.  I sniff a line.   Shit, speed not coke.
I get the gin out and take a swig.

The brothers return, crowding my small kitchen.   Bill is much as he
left, Jonathan is pornographically attired.  Bill has contrived two of
my straps to start in the front of his brother's neck to move across
his shoulders down his back such that they pulled between melon
butt-buns to his garters.  Jonathan merely had to walk, bend or lean
and his buttocks parted to a deep maroon flash.  I give the sandwich
to Bill when I realise my sarong is on the floor.  Why try and
retrieve it when Bill is the only one attired.  I lift his tank top
and suck the salt off his flat lanky longitudinal stomach muscles, eat
the mussel in his navel.  I suck the ringed nipples. The brothers are
intercoursing by mouth and tongue.   There is no belt, no underwear,
his jeans peal away to show no lanky rod.  It is a surf board rising
from the curl.  His dick is the same shape as mine, about my size.   I
fall to my knees and pash it to solid.  He rides it along the wave of
my tongue deep into and out of my mouth while eating the sandwich.
My spearhead is bowed.  It is letting me down.  I have cum three times
in the last few hours but in circumstances like this.

Jonathan tongue is in my butt chute, I ram my mouth onto my cock's
twin.   When he finished the sandwich Bill lifted me with a hand under
one armpit and bent me over my bar.  Waite, I do not have a bar in my
house but the breakfast bench is where we are at, where the liquor is,
where the powder is and is where my head is now pressed.   I have
lobed his dick, Jonathan lobed my anal sphincter.    I sneeze razing
cloud of powder that sends the boys into a frenzy of sniffing while
Bill rides his board along my anal tube.  I cry from the impact, taste
drugs, splutter.  My pink ball gag is stuffed into my open mouth and
secured behind my head.  I utter muffled grunts as I am screwed for
the first time in a generation.  I look back to see Bill with his
pants at his thighs, Jonathan sucking his arse.  He quickly cums,
dumping his salty foam within me in hard jabs that have me gurgle
yelps with each. Bill had been holding both my arms during this so he
can easily cuff my hands behind my back as I contemplate his hardwood
sliding out of me.  The rest of the evening is pretty much a wipe out
for me.

The boys manhandle me to my bed and used my cuffs to link me to my
bedhead.   Bill had a couple of fuckees and a load of sex toys to
experiment with.  He starts using my vibrating dildo on me and his
dick is up his brother.  I remember his broh sucking his cock as he
slashed my butt with one of my crops.  It goes on: they turn me over,
twisting my arms, the big dildo is up me as my cock and individual
balls are separately twisted into a twining that gave me an erection
for them to abuse.  Jonathan's arse pumped it mercilessly at one stage
but they made sure I did not cum.  I sort of fade off again when Bill
lifts my legs and doubles me over forcing his cock up me without
taking the vibrator out.  I am speeding, chained, gagged, whipped,
cocka hoop fucked for the amusement of a couple of punks.  There is no
way any jizt got out of my twined gonads but I came all the same.
They go early morning leaving my arms chained to the bedhead.   Before
he goes Bill slides my phone's handpiece up in my arse.

I eventually work it out.  I have to use my feet to get it to my
mouth, my tongue to dial.  Judge's fucking bitch is telling me he
cannot be disturbed, I am hoarse.   You can imagine how embarrassing
it all is.  I might leave it at as a good night in except they stole
my best sex toys and leather gear.   I want revenge.

More to come, comments welcome!  Mike Lynch