Date: Thu, 02 Mar 2006 19:50:49 -0700
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: ST: "Aaron and Brue: Play Hard" (celeb, M/t, spanking, mild S&M)

Caution/Welcome.  Returning to Marathon after his Juke Box tour in Japan,
Aaron begins working on his next album until an invitation to get away for
a weekend shortly after his sixteenth birthday is gratefully accepted.
Although incorporating many real facts, this story does not reflect nor
imply a real event nor the real sexuality of this hot young performer nor
his host for the weekend.  If you do not like reading gay fantasies about
celebrities, intergenerational sex, spanking, or S and M, this is where you
stop and hit the back or delete key and wait for the next story.  This is
the fifty-second of standalone stories in a series of Aaron Carter and
Friends fanfic gay fantasies and chronologically follows the story "Aaron
and Friends: Sweet Sixteen."  This story is posted at gay adult story sites
for the purpose of adult entertainment.  Permission is not given to copy
electronically for the purpose of redistribution or posting at sites other
than described without the permission of the author.  Comments can be sent
to the author J.O.  Dickingson at authorsix@hotmail.com

                   AARON AND BRUCE: PLAY HARD

     It was twenty below and a bone-chilling wind had come up but Aaron was
sweating profusely as he plowed through the deep snow that had blown up
along the tree line.  The five- foot nine, hundred and thirty-pound
recently turned sixteen-year-old should have been able to stand on top of
the wind-hardened drift, but he was packing an additional seventy-five
pounds in addition to his thermal suit and had broken through.  His chest
heaved and ached with the exertion and his breath froze as it left his
mouth.  Every muscle in his body was screaming.  It had been almost three
months since he'd ended his Juke Box tour, and after three months of
sitting behind a synthesizer and a desk he was no longer in the top shape
he'd been in leading up to and during the tour.  That was one advantage of
touring a guy had to be in good shape.  And a guy had to be in good shape
to attract sexual partners, Aaron's second big passion after performing.
     Peering around the last tree and with the enemy nowhere in sight, he
sprinted toward the flag at the top of the hill, unable to believe that he
was actually yards away from victory.  His lungs ached as he sucked in the
cold air and his legs cried out. That was when he was hit, in both legs,
and he froze there in surprise, staring down at the blood-red splotches,
one spreading about his right kneecap and the other slightly higher, mid
thigh, on his other leg.  He looked up at the grinning face of the enemy as
he rose from where he'd been lying half buried in the snow, his paint-ball
rifle still pointing at him.
     "Drop your weapon or you're a dead man," the man behind the ski mask
snarled sharply.
     He dropped his paint ball rifle and fell back, totally exhausted, glad
it was over but disappointed he'd been shot down so close to victory.
     "Get up," the enemy soldier ordered as he picked up the other gun.
     "Can't.  I'm shot.  Both legs."
     "Flesh wounds.  You can walk.  Unless you'd rather I drag you back to
base by your balls."
     He probably would.  The sixteen-year-old singer struggled to his feet.
"That was some ga ."
     "No talking.  Just march!"
     Bruce believed in playing it to the hilt, in character right up to the
end.  But then, what else would you expect from an actor, especially when
he's acting out one of his favourite roles, a hard-nosed, rough and tough
hero whether it be John McClane in "Die Hard" or Butch Coolidge in "Pulp
Fiction?"  Besides, he was a perfectionist.  Probably came from his German
background.  Aaron had discovered that the first time they'd met, at the
Key's Fantasy Fest in October when Bruce and his girls, fifteen-year-old
Rumer, twelve-year-old Scout Larue, and nine-year-old Tallulah Belle had
come down to Florida.  Bruce had observed how celebrity- struck his girls
were after seeing him performing in New York at the end of August during
his Juke Box tour, and had invited him to spend an evening on his yacht
with them.  That was when he found out about Bruce's secret, about his
passion for role-playing games.
  When he'd put on the sailor's uniform Bruce had sent him to wear, he had
no idea his daughters would be out for the evening, nor what Bruce had
planned for the two of them that night.  That was when he found out Bruce
Willis's other secret.
     "Stop day dreaming and march dammit," Bruce snarled, interrupting his
thoughts as he gave him a rough shove.
     They'd met several times since then, at the APBA Offshore
championships in Alabama in November, later that month in New York, and
early in December in Miami, all by Bruce's invite, or rather, by his
demand.  And all for the same reason.
     "If you can't keep up the pace, I'll set it for you soldier," Bruce
snapped.  Tying Aaron's hands behind his back and placing a noose about his
neck, Bruce headed off on a run, and although three times Aaron's age, the
teenager had to struggle to keep up with him.  To maintain the realism,
they paused behind the last hill and he put a blindfold on his captive
before approaching his home on his estate outside Hailey, Idaho.  Leading
him down the stairs he believed in realism but he didn't want his young
guest to break a leg either he bound him with his legs spread eagled and
tied to rings in the floor and with his arms spread and tied to the ceiling
beams in the basement.  His body tense with anticipation, Bruce felt a
stirring of arousal between his legs as he quickly removed his flack jacket
and thermal suit, replacing his ski boots with army boots.  He left on his
camouflage shirt stained with sweat and his camouflage cargo pants.
     "Now, tell me what I want to know and things will go easy on you."
     "I don't know anything."
     "So, that is the way you want to play it, is it my pretty?" Bruce
asked, running a rough hand over Aaron's still smooth, downy cheeks.  He
had not yet begun to shave, and with his fine, blond hair, it would likely
be a while yet before he had to.  Bruce had never been a pretty face, not
even when he was that age.  Now, at forty-eight, the six-foot-one, two
hundred and eleven- pound actor had a protruding gut, a day's stubble
covering his developing jowls and a receding hairline at the temples.  He
was nobody's heartthrob, including Demi Moore, the mother of his children,
who had divorced him five years ago, for among other reasons, his secret
pastime that Aaron had discovered.  Bruce tightened his ropes, pulling him
up so he was barely touching the floor with his toes.  "How many men are
with you?"
     "I don't know."
     Bruce slapped his face, hard, but not enough to bruise it.  It was too
pretty a face to mar.  "Try again."
     "None.  I came by myself," Aaron replied, adlibbing and relying on the
truth where he could to keep things simple.  There was no script in this
play.
     "So, thought you'd capture me all on your own and reap all the glory
yourself, did you?"
     "Yeah, something like that."
     "Liar!" Bruce barked as he slapped his teenage captive again.  His
cheek smarted.  "Who sent you?"
     "He's never mentioned his name, and . . .  I've always been
blindfolded when I met with him."
     "They're smart.  But not so smart too.  Whoever they are, they should
never have sent a boy to do a man's job."  Aaron felt a hand on his thigh
and then move up to his crotch.  "You are a boy, aren't you?  You look more
like a girlie in a man's clothing."  Aaron didn't respond.  "Have to admit,
you got balls, coming after me," Bruce continued, caressing his basket
through his thick thermal suit.  He suddenly felt Bruce slap his ass, hard.
It had to be really hard to feel it through the thick padding of the pants.
"Well, I have ways of getting the truth out of you."
     Aaron was well aware of that.  When he'd been summoned to New York,
they'd gone to a leather bar.  He was underage, but Bruce had connections,
and they went straight to the private rooms, to the dungeon.  Bruce was the
royal torturer and he had been the gay young pretender plotting to take
over the throne.  It had been very real.  He heard the zipper of his jacket
being pulled down.  He'd been sweating with exertion outside, his thermal
suit doubly insulated, an inside down layer to keep out the cold of the
Idaho winter, and an outside layer to protect his body from the paint
balls.  On top of that he was wearing a flack jacket for costuming.  He was
sweating even more now, with the heat of the basement, and with fear what
his captor had in mind next.  It was all a game, but sometimes Bruce got
carried away with his role playing, like the time in Miami in his role as
the border cop catching an illegal teenage immigrant/terrorist.
Fortunately his parents were too wrapped up in their squabble to notice him
limping around the house and nursing his bruised ribs afterwards.  Bruce
had made it up to him with the diamond earrings and pendant.
     With Aaron's arms and legs spread and his ankles and wrists bound,
Bruce had to cut away his flak jacket and his insulated suit.  He could
have untied him for a moment and removed them, but with his millions the
cost of the clothing was hardly a consideration, and it was more realistic
to cut it.  Aaron was soon down to his boxers, socks, winter hiking boots,
and of course, blindfold.  Bruce ran a hand over his smooth chest and
fiddled with his nipples before descending to his stomach.  The bulge was
slight, but it was a bulge, a sign of the teenager's rich living.  Of
course at forty-eight, Bruce no longer had six-pac abs either.  Aaron
yelped with the sudden slap to his backside.  Being blindfolded, he never
knew what was coming, a caress or a slap, nor where.
     "Now we can avoid a lot of pain if you just yell me what I want to
know."
     "Like I said, I don't know anything."  That was the truth of course,
but even if he did know, to give in so quickly would spoil the game.  He'd
learned that quickly the night on Bruce's yacht.
     "You're going to be sorry you said that," Bruce sneered.  Cutting
through the elastic waist band, he tore his boxers the rest of the way.
There was realism, and there was reality.  He was strong, but not that
strong.  "Now, once again, who are you working for?"  Bruce asked, this
time slapping Aaron's naked backside, and not holding back.
     Aaron again yelped and jerked in his bonds.  "I already told you, I
don't know his name.  I was blindfolded."
     "I don't believe you," Bruce barked, slapping his ass again, leaving
behind a large red hand print.
     "I'm telling you the truth."
     "I'm sure you are cutie," Bruce said, rubbing his unshaven chin
against Aaron's smooth cheek and caressing his chest.  The boy had a nice
set of pecs, firm and muscular, but smooth and rounded, lacking the sharper
definition that would come with age.  The smoothness was natural.  He was
too young to begin waxing yet.  Sweet sixteen.  The perfect age.  He ran
his fingers over the boy's nipples and they immediately began to grow
firm. The boy tensed with the pleasure and his captor smiled as he stood to
the side and caressing his nipple with his right hand slapped his buttocks
solidly with his left.  Pleasure and pain.
     And so the game continued.  Aaron's ass burned from the repeated slaps
and his nipples grew firm and itched with the rough caresses.  He answered
his interrogator's questions, sometimes pleasing him, most often not, and
after each answer he tensed, not knowing if his response would be rewarded
with a caress or another slap across the buttocks.  His ass was glowing and
even the slightest movement of air caused the flesh to tingle.  He felt a
hand caressing the sensitive inside of his thigh and his cock, already
partially swollen, responded to the featherlike touch.  Whether it was the
pleasure pulsating out from his irritated nipples, the heat radiating from
his abused buttocks, or the helplessness of being strung up and
blindfolded, Aaron was becoming aroused.  It was a peculiar reaction, one
he could not explain when he'd first experienced it playing around with
Billy Gilman and Haley Osment over a year and a half ago at Knotts Wagon
Camp Theatre, and one which he still could not explain.
     "This turning you on boy?" Bruce asked gruffly, knowing full well that
it would, and that it was.  Aaron of course could not deny that it was with
his teenage cock slowly rising in the air, but he could not admit it
either.  It didn't matter.  Bruce was not looking for an answer.  "Well,
you've come to the right place for pain," he whispered in his ear
menacingly, causing Aaron to tremble with excitement.  With a caress of his
tender balls, Bruce backed away.  Aaron could hear him rummaging around for
something.
     As he felt Bruce's presence once more beside him, he tensed, not
knowing what to expect.  Something brushed against his cheeks and he
flinched, causing Bruce to chuckle.  He found out what it had been seconds
later as it brushed his cheeks once again and moved on to his lips.  Bruce
kissed him, firmly and forcefully as he cupped the back of his head with
his left hand to hold it still.  Cupping his low-hanging balls with his
other hand, he caressed them, gently rubbing them as he forced his tongue
into Aaron's mouth.  The teenager's cock sprang up, fully erect, as the man
forced himself on him, though in reality Aaron welcomed his caresses and
kisses.  It didn't matter that the man was three times his age and had a
daughter only a year younger than he was.  The man, despite his age and
flabbiness from his recent good living, was still an American symbol of the
macho man, the cock of the roost, and if there was anything Aaron craved,
it was cock.  And speaking of cock, Aaron's jerked excitedly as Bruce's
tongue explored his mouth, as he felt the man's hands caressing his smooth
chest and gently fondling his nipples.
     And then, as he withdrew his tongue, a sudden snap of searing pain as
something was attached to his right nipple caused Aaron to yelp.  Bruce
laughed again as he attached the second spring-loaded clamp to the left,
sending another shock of pain through it.  His nipples, swollen and
irritated already, throbbed with pain as Bruce gave one clamp a tug and
then the other.  Aaron jerked and twisted, his body swinging from the
rafters like a rag puppet.  Finally removing Aaron's blindfold, Bruce
kissed him once again and then leered at him with his dark green eyes as he
slowly stroked his swollen cock.  Aaron inhaled deeply and held his breath,
uncertain if the man was intending pleasure or pain, feeling both at the
moment with the hot throbbing of his cock and the painful throbbing of his
clamped teats.
     Attaching a narrow leather strap about Aaron's stiff cock just below
his glans, Bruce drew it tight, and then taking a nylon cord, threaded it
through a ring on the strap and tied the two ends of the cord to the clamps
on his nipples.  Slowly stroking the edge of Aaron's blood- engorged glans
with the tip of his index finger with a feather-light touch, he caused the
horny teenager's stiff cock to jerk, pulling on the cord and tugging at the
nipple clamps and stretching his irritated nipples.  Searing pain shot
though the two tender buds as pleasure pulsated through his turgid glans.
The man was skilled in bringing such pain and pleasure to his victims.  He
leaned forward and licked the tip of the vulnerable cock, again causing it
to ache with pleasure and to burn with the need to shoot off a load while
jerking wildly and pulling on the fat teenage nipples.
     Aaron grimaced and pulled on his restraining bonds, much to Bruce's
delight.  He darted his tongue against the sensitive tip of Aaron's cock,
causing the stiff member to jerk again.  His nipples felt like they were
going to be pulled off and his cockhead felt like it was going to explode.
Standing up, Bruce ran his hot, moist tongue over Aaron's right nipple,
sending the same burning pleasure through it as he'd felt searing his cock
head and causing his cock to twitch even more, sending shards of pain
through his nipples.  He arched his body with the sharp pain in his chest
and the throbbing desire between his legs and he threw back his head and
whimpered as Bruce ran a tongue over his other swollen, irritated teat.
     Aaron was close to coming and he closed his eyes and strained in his
bonds as he felt the pressure doubling in his loins with each attack on his
sensitive nipples.  He sighed with relief as Bruce's fingers wrapped
loosely about his aching, throbbing cock and slowly stroked the shaft with
tantalizing slowness, just barely touching it.  Aaron's breath grew deeper
and more laboured as he felt that delightful moment approaching closer and
closer.  Bruce was fully aroused too and as he stroked Aaron he reached
between his legs and squeezed the bulge in his trousers.  He continued to
squeeze and stroke himself through his thick pants, openly groaning with
the pleasure throbbing through his swollen, aching cock, at the same time
releasing Aaron's throbbing erection.  Released, his cock jerked wildly in
desperation, the nylon cord pulling ruthlessly on his teats.  The
practically deranged teenager concentrated on the painful ache in his loins
and the burning pleasure pulsating out from his abused teats, trying
desperately to will himself to come.  He was so fucking close.  He clenched
his eyes and gritted his teeth as he felt that ultimate pleasure seconds
away, and then slowly begin to subside.
     "No!" he cried out in frustration and dismay, pulling on his
restraints until the ropes cut into his ankles and his wrists.
     Bruce laughed as he unzipped his thick trousers and pulled out his
stiff cock.  It was a monster, eight inches and almost three fingers thick.
He stood there letting Aaron gaze upon it, knowing how much the kid loved
cock, how much he was aching to touch it, to slip his lips over it, to feel
it stuffing his ass.  The kid loved cock, and he knew it.  He was the
perfect prisoner for his little games.  He stroked his cock ever so slowly
with pure delight, the delight from the hot pleasure throbbing through it,
and the delight in seeing the frustration and disappointment in his
captive's eyes as the horny, bound teenager saw him quivering with the
pleasure he'd felt seconds ago and now denied him.
     Perspiring profusely in the stuffy, windowless room and in his heavy
cotton clothing as a result of his efforts in torturing the bound teenager
and from his sexual arousal, he stripped off his shirt and unzipping the
legs of his camouflage trousers, he pushed them down and stepped out of
them, his stiff cock sticking out of his J Crew boxer briefs.  His white,
sleeveless T was damp and stained with sweat and his biceps streaked with
perspiration.  Pulling up a step stool, he stood on the bottom step and
grasping Aaron by the back of the head with his left hand, he pushed his
pretty face into his sweaty right armpit.  Having no choice, Aaron inhaled
and the rank, sour stink of the man's hairy pit filled his lungs and caused
him to gag.  As he exhaled, his face still buried in the man's underarm,
his hot, moist breath accented the stink.  What little sexual desire he had
disappeared.
     As revulsion caused his arms and legs to turn to gooseflesh as he
inhaled again, he felt Bruce begin to stroke his still swollen but no
longer aching cock once more.
  Inhaling with the pleasure returning to his turgid flesh, he sucked in
the foul air causing the rest of his body to quake as his skin grew even
tighter and rougher.  Bruce held his head firmly, his biceps squeezing his
head against his muscular body so that the teenage hostage's nose was
buried in the man's sweaty pit hairs as he slowly stroked his swollen cock
with his free hand.  Once again Aaron felt the pressure developing in his
loins, and once again he sucked in and blew out with growing arousal.  Once
again Bruce brought him to that peak, and then once again suddenly stopped.
     "Please.  Please let me cum," Aaron pleaded.
     "Oh, so soon?  I think not," Bruce replied with a grin as he stepped
down off the step stool.  The pretense of the earlier game forgotten now in
the game of sexual torture, he took out a ball strap from his collection
and attached it to Aaron's swollen nuts along with a leather cock ring
which he attached at the base of Aaron's stiff cock and drew tight, the
cock ring cutting off the returning circulation to keep his dick hard, and
the ball strap keeping his balls pulled up tight and swollen.  Sitting down
on the step stool in his sweaty T and boxer briefs, he playfully snapped a
finger against the swollen scrotum, causing Aaron to scream with the pain
as Bruce stroked himself.  Waiting for the pain to subside, he snapped a
finger against his aching balls once more and inhaled deeply with the
pleasure pulsating through his thick cock and the pleasure of hearing the
teenage heartthrob begging him to stop.  Reaching over, he began to stroke
Aaron's cock again, knowing that no matter how much he stroked and how much
Aaron wanted to cum he'd be unable to shoot with the tight strap about the
glans preventing that final necessary trigger for his release.  As Aaron
grimaced with the growing pressure once again in his loins and the
throbbing delight pulsating through his cock, he screamed out as Bruce
snapped his tender testicles.
     As Bruce rose and unclamped the spring clamps about his nipples and
removed the nylon cord from them, Aaron was not so naive as to think his
torture was over.  Bruce would never stop so soon.  He was quite right.
Leaving the nylon cord threaded through the loop in the upper cock strap,
he took out two leather straps and belted them around Aaron's thighs and
threaded the cord through them so that it pulled his cock down into a
perpendicular position with his body.  Searching through his playthings
once again, he returned this time with a long, white candle.  Lighting it,
he placed it on the step stool, and drew the step stool in front of Aaron
so the flame of the candle was directly in front of his cock.
               Removing his boxer briefs and stepping behind him, he
slipped a finger up Aaron's crack and caressed his asshole, sending ripples
of pleasure through it.  Aaron's stiff cock tried to jerk with the
stimulation, but tied down to its ninety-degree position it could not.
Slowly inserting the tip of his finger, Bruce stroked Aaron's inner thighs,
sending still more pleasure through his straining cock.  Ever so slowly he
inserted his finger until he could insert it no further and then he began
to finger fuck his ass, causing Aaron to tremble with pleasure once again.
He stroked his prostate, sending ripples of pleasure through his swollen
cock, having no fear that he'd bring the boy off.  He continued for several
minutes until Aaron's body was as taut as a bow string with arousal and the
boy was aching to get off a load.  Finally withdrawing his finger, he
pulled apart the boy's ass cheeks and placed the tip of his cock, oozing
with pre-cum from his own arousal, against the opening.  Aaron immediately
pushed out, eager to have the man fuck him despite the length and thickness
of the man's cock.  He shuddered with pleasure and pain as he felt the
man's cockhead slowly stretch open his sphincter and he pushed out in a
desperate attempt to accept him and reduce the pain.  Reaching around in
front of him, Bruce suddenly pinched his swollen balls trapped in his ball
harness, causing him to yelp and draw back, empaling himself on Bruce's
thick cock.  His knob having popped inside Aaron's rectum, Bruce plunged
forward, penetrating his smooth, teenage ass to the hilt.
     "Ride my cock boy," Bruce ordered.  Wearing only his wool socks and
winter hiking boots and hanging there from the beams of the ceiling with
his feet tied spread-eagled to the rings on the floor, Aaron slowly drew
forward, causing Bruce's cock to ease out of his ass and his own cock,
pinned perpendicular to his body, to approach the candle flame.  Continuing
until he could stand the heat no longer, he slowly eased back, sinking
Bruce's cock back up his ass and drawing his cockhead away from the flame.
And so he slowly rode Bruce's cock back and forth and once again the
pressure in his loins grew, as he knew was the pressure in Bruce's.
     "Faster," the man ordered, and Aaron willing picked up his speed,
working his body to and fro within the constraints of the ropes holding him
and of course the candle in front of him, delighting in the pleasure
pulsating through his ass and the burning of his stretched rectum.
Perhaps, if he brought the man pleasure, he would relent and release the
straps preventing his own ejaculation.
     Bruce grasped his hips and grunted and sighed with the pleasure
pulsating through his stiff organ, and Aaron quivered as the man's knob
brushed back and forth over his prostate.  Bruce fought back the temptation
to begin fucking Aaron's tight, moist ass himself as the teenage boy rode
him, and Aaron pumped his hips to and fro as rapidly as he could in the
hopes of brining the man off.
     "Fuck hard!" Bruce ordered, slapping Aaron's naked ass with all the
force he could and propelling Aaron forward in response to the pain.  The
heat of the candle caused him to stop with a jerk and to instinctively draw
back.  "Harder," ordered Bruce, slapping his ass with a resounding smack
and Aaron lunged forward with the sharp pain.  The tip of his cock
approached within a sixteenth of an inch from the flame before he could
stop, and the heat caused him to draw back instinctively again, driving
Bruce's cock back up his rectum.  "All the fucking way," Bruce ordered.  "I
want to feel your butt pushing against my gut and I want to feel my knob
stretching open your fucking asshole!"
     He slapped Aaron's now tingling ass once again and his body again
instinctively thrust forward and he grimaced as his blood-engorged knob
again approached the flame within a fraction of being seared by his own
action.  Slapping his tenderized ass like a man riding a bucking horse,
Bruce drove the teenager forward, delighting in his agony even more than in
the pleasure of his hot, throbbing cock.  With the slaps to his ass sending
shocks of pain through the tender cheeks and the pressure building up in
his loins with each stroke of his prostate, with the pleasure throbbing
through his numb, swollen cock and the fear of burning the sensitive tip of
that most precious part of his body, Aaron trembled and gasped within
seconds from an orgasm but with the binding cock straps and the ball
harness he knew he would be unable to achieve.  Sweat beaded on his
forehead and ran down his sides as he ached with the sweet pain racking his
body.
     Bruce Willis was feeling the same desire as the sixteen-year-old
heartthrob of thousands of teenage and preteen girls rode his stiff cock,
impaling himself on the stiff, throbbing organ and thrusting his body
forward until the bulb began to spread apart his sphincter.  He loved
forcing others to bring him off, and especially young snot-nosed teenagers
like Aaron Carter who thought they had the world by the balls. Well, he had
the boy by the balls, and the boy was hot and tight and moist.
     He inhaled and exhaled sharply as he felt the ripples of pleasure
pulsating through his stiff cock, as he felt the boy's hot rectum pulsating
about his aching organ.  Spasms of pleasure rippled through his glans and
his balls were drawn up tight beneath his cock.  Sweat trickled down from
his arm pits and beaded on his forehead as the pressure built in his loins.
The slender adolescent boy thrust his body to and fro, bouncing against his
protruding, hairy belly, his compact little ass a fiery red from the
spanking he'd given it.  As he felt the pressure reach breaking point, he
grasped the boy's narrow waist and trembled with delight, his hot, thick
cum gushing up the core of his aching cock and spurting into the boy's
rectum.
     As he felt Bruce tremble and his hot semen begin to spurt up his hole
Aaron whimpered with the delight of having brought off the man but also
with the frustration of not being able to experience the same pleasure.
His swollen cock numb from the constant state of arousal and the straps
cutting off his circulation, he was relieved that he at least had not
seared the tip in his drive to please his torturer.  His thin, teenage
chest rose and fell as he gasped with the mixed feelings and Bruce groaned
with the pleasure of his climax.
     "Please," he begged with a gasp as Bruce finally withdrew his cock,
"please let me cum."
     "Cum?" Bruce asked with an evil grin as he walked around in front of
the boy and snuffed out the candle with his fingertips.  His cock was still
stiff and streaked with Aaron's ass slime and with his cum, a creamy white
pendant of his juice dangling from the tip.  "Sure."  As Bruce released the
straps about his cock and removed the ball harness, Aaron sighed with the
glow of pleasure as his blood began to flow again, restoring feeling to his
abused organ.  Bruce stepped up to the top step of the step stool.  "As
soon as you lick me clean."
     Aaron had no idea if the man actually would bring him off, but
desperate to release the load that had repeatedly built up inside him and
he'd been unable to release, he eagerly bowed his head and licked the knob
of the man's cock, smeared with his cum and the ass slime from his rectum.
It tasted foul and he wanted to gag, but he licked it as if it was the
sweetest lollipop he'd ever tasted.  He ran his tongue over the knob,
cleaning it of slime, and Bruce shivered with delight.  He bent further,
straining against the ropes tying him to the rafters as he licked the man's
shaft.  The sharp, musky fragrance of Bruce's sweaty crotch filled his
lungs as he inhaled deeply and swallowed the slime and cum coating his
tongue.  Slipping his lips over the man's still turgid organ, he eased his
lips down, sucking on it and basting it with his saliva.  He sucked and
licked until the man's organ was glistening with spittle and not a trace of
cum or ass slime could be seen.
     Stepping back down off the stool, Bruce grinned at the boy and brushed
his fingertips along the tip of his cock.  He teasingly ran his finger
along the boy's glans, and down along the deep blue vein on the underside
of his aching shaft.
     "Now?" Aaron gasped.
     "Oh no," grinned Bruce with a wicked smile and a gleam in his dark
green eyes.  "I said as soon as you lick me clean, all of me."  As Bruce
pulled off his sweaty T and raised an arm, Aaron caught a whiff of his
skunky pit and the sixteen-year-old pop star knew his torture was not over.
It had just begun.