Date: Tue, 6 Sep 2011 22:36:29 -0700 (PDT)
From: John McDonald <madmax212542007@yahoo.com>
Subject: Justin and Alan - Ch. 9

The following story is completely fictional and is not intended to imply
anything about the true sexuality of the celebrities mentioned or any
personal knowledge about their private lives.  However, if they ARE having
this sort of fun in their lives, more power to them!




                JUSTIN and ALAN - Chapter 9



When Justin was finished pulsing, Joe dropped on top of him.  "Holy fuck!"
they both shouted.  At that moment, a digital camera flash went off.
"Something for my scrapbook.  Thank you guys." Nick grinned as he replaced
the lens cap on his camera.

In an instant, the two spent guys were on Nick.  Joe held him in a bear hug
while Justin bared the would-be photographer's lower body.  Joe released
him but whipped his brother's shirt off.  The three stood laughing loudly
until Justin broke in with an idea.

"Let's go play with Alan.  It might be a little weird if you two touch each
other, so watch that."

Nick and Joe looked at each other and then back at Justin simultaneously
declaring, "you got THAT right."

Three firm, rounded asses loomed over Alan's unconscious, drugged body.
Had he been awake, he would have loved to have tackled and ravaged any one
of them.  Unfortunately for the Mexi-stud, he was in no condition to be the
aggressor.  Justin, Joe and Nick had another role in mind for him.

They rolled Alan onto his back and spread his legs.  Nick and Justin each
straddled a massive thigh and commenced riding it.  As their cocks
ballooned to full size and dripped pre-cum, the boys held hands and rocked
back and forth on their thigh-stallion steeds.  At regular intervals of
rocking, Nick freed his hand and placed it behind Justin's neck pulling him
into a tongue-wrestling kiss.

Joe stood at Alan's head which hung over the edge of the corner of the bed.
He tipped the Mexi-stud's chin to open the sexy model's mouth.  Joe
inserted his already pulsing pole into the waiting orifice and rocked his
hips at Alan.  Even in his unconsciousness, Alan recognized the log in his
mouth and jabbed his tongue at it.  He then opened his throat and took
everything Joe Jonas had to offer.  Two hot cocks rubbing him, and one
scouring his pallet- Alan was in fuck heaven only he wasn't fully aware of
it.  All three musical guys accelerated their gyrations and thrusts until
there was a trio of eruptions.  Alan swallowed Joe's offering; Nick's and
Justin's landed on various parts of the stud model's exquisitely sculpted
body.  Justin made a move to lick the trail of cum on Alan's chest, stomach
and abs, but Nick grabbed his arm.

"Nothing doing, Biebs.  I get to do the mop up job.  Besides, aren't you
and my brother due in the theatre soon?"

Justin looked at the clock on the wall and muttered, "shit".  He and Joe
ran for their clothing, quickly put it on, and headed for the elevator.
Nick was left behind to stud-sit as previously agreed.  With his hands
cupping Alan's awesome pecs, the youngest Jonas licked the cum path.  As he
was lapping up the last of it, Nick felt himself being poked by a stiff
cock.  Sure enough, Alan was up again.  Seizing the moment, Nick opted to
deep throat his unconscious toy.  Unbeknownst to Nick (as with Judge
Ralston), Alan's orgasms had the effect of draining the sedative from his
body.  Each time Alan came, he grew a little closer to waking up.  Nick
went two rounds with him before breaking for a shower.

Justin and Joe eventually found Criss Angel's dressing room in the
backstage area of the theatre.  Criss greeted Justin with a full kiss on
the mouth.  He turned to Joe and offered, "ever since the first time I saw
you Brothers sing, I've wanted to do this."  Criss pulled Joe in for an
equally brain spinning kiss.  When the illusionist pulled away, Joe stood
sort of trance-like.  Justin smacked the back of Joe's head.

"Wake up, Joe.  It was just a kiss for crying out loud.  If he ever fucks
you, you'll probably have an out of body experience over it."

Joe shook his head to regain his equilibrium.  Criss just winked at him and
dropped his eyes so Joe would observe the bulge in the leather pants.

"Okay Criss, we want details.  What's going to happen to Alan?"

Criss Angel produced a green pill and instructed Justin to administer it to
Alan no more than thirty minutes before they would carry out the plan on
the stage behind a closed curtain.  Angel explained the highlights of what
would befall Alan Valdez in a matter of a few hours.  When he finished,
Criss observed Joe and Justin handling their respective packages.  It was
more out of a protective instinct rather than anything erotic or
self-stimulating.

"Shit, man; you can DO that??"  Joe looked at the illusionist
incredulously.

"If you like, I could test it out on you, Joe."

"NO WAY.  No FUCKING way."

Justin stood with his mouth agape. His brain spun over its visualization of
what Alan would be subjected to.  After a short pondering, he was still in
favor of seeing this plan through.  Though he liked the mind-blowing sex
he'd been having with Alan, Justin was not going to let the control aspect
escalate any further.  He looked at his watch and noted the time was
approaching two in the morning.

"We'll have Alan down here around seven.  That will give us time for a
little shut-eye."

"Sounds good, my young friend.  I only need four hours sleep and then I'm
at my peak.  Before you leave, are you both sure you won't allow me a
practice run of my new act I've personalized for Mr. Valdez?"

Justin and Joe bolted from the stage and sped to the elevators.  Meanwhile
upstairs, Nick was just drying himself off from a long and relaxing shower.
Upon entering the bedroom where he'd left Alan, Nick's eyes fell on the
rumpled but empty bed.  "What the fuck?"  He'd scarcely uttered those words
when an arm slipped around his neck from behind.

"You and your brother and Biebs Baby are so busted.  Whatever you guys
drugged me with, it is beginning to wear off.  And my balls feel drained.
You been sucking on my junk, Nicky?"

Alan licked the back of Nick's neck and thrust his hard cock against the
Jonas boy's bare buns.  Nick managed to throw Alan off balance by jerking
back against him with all his strength.  Still slightly woozy, the
Mexi-stud fell backward while maintaining a tight hold on Nick's upper
body.  Nick rolled with the fall and landed on top of the muscular model,
knocking the wind out of him. A split second later, Justin and Joe came
into the suite and ran to the tangle of hotness on the floor.  Joe grabbed
one of Alan's arms, as did Justin.  Alan sneered at them.

"Just in time, boys.  A minute longer and I would have been fucking Nick's
sweet ass from now till next Sunday."

"Is that so?" Nick retorted just before delivered a solid gut punch to
Alan's ripped abs.  "We'd better tie him up until the show downstairs."

Justin handed off the arm he held and proceeded to retrieve drapery ties
from the sitting area of the suite.  The three musicians then tied up
Alan's hands and feet.  For good measure, they used a tie to attach the
hand and foot bindings together in back.  A last tie fastened Alan to a
wooden desk chair placed in the center of the room.  When Alan let out a
shout, they added a washcloth as a gag.  That done, the three tried to get
a little shut-eye before it was time to administer the green pill.

The boys actually slept restlessly for about four hours.  Upon waking, they
went to the sitting room to find Alan dosed off in his chair.

"Criss said the pill could be dissolved in liquid in case we couldn't get
our friend to swallow it whole."  Justin reminded them.

"I'm certain he won't be cooperative.  We're going to have to force this
down his throat, I think." Joe then offered a suggestion as to how.

They woke Alan and removed the gag.  Justin crushed the pill and mixed it
in some bottled water.  Nick grabbed Alan's hair and pulled his head back.
Joe pinched the sexy Mexican's nose closed and waited for him to open his
mouth to take a gulp of air.  At the right moment, Justin dumped the water
into Alan's mouth and clamped his jaw shut till he swallowed. Alan eyed
Justin with a mixture of lust and anger.

"You little fucker.  Whatever you made me swallow in that water, I'll get
even by ramming you a new asshole."

Justin gave him a wide smile.  "Um, I don't think so, hot stuff.  We
volunteered you to be an assistant in a performance that has never been
presented to an audience before.  When the show is over, you won't be in
any condition to even jack yourself, much less fuck anybody."

As Alan's eyes began to cloud over, the boys untied him, dressed him and
walked him to the elevator.  Five minutes later, they were backstage with
Criss Angel, mindfreak.  The illusionist had a rescuer's body board and an
array of elongated metallic objects with rounded ends.

"Very good, boys; right on schedule.  I finished sterilizing the inserts,
and the platform is ready for Mr. Valdez to stretch out upon it.  But
first, you must strip him of all his clothing."

Joe and Nick went about removing Alan's clothes while Justin conferred with
his good friend.

"Criss, this won't permanently disable him, will it?"

"No, my friend.  The procedure will serve as conditioned learning so that
he will not wish to overpower you ever again."

"So he might go after somebody else when he recovers?"

"Chances are that his desire for intense sexual encounters will increase,
but NOT with you."

"Okay, Criss.  Whenever you're ready."

Alan was already on his back upon the body board.  Criss threw a sheet over
him and began tracing the outline of Alan's body with his hands.  He never
touched the Mexican stud, but Alan could feel a deepening warmth wherever
Criss Angel's hands hovered.  Words uttered by the illusionist were
unfamiliar to Alan, but he noted that the words grew increasingly louder.

Alan felt himself leave the body board.  He was floating!  To Alan, the
voice of the illusionist grew more and more distant, but to the three
observers there was no change.  With a wave of his hand, Criss caused the
sheet to fly off Alan's naked body.  Then Alan began to rotate like a piece
of meat on a spit.  The Mexi-stud was powerless to move except for his eyes
that tried to follow what was happening on the stage beneath him.

Criss Angel waved his hand above one of the metallic objects in the tray on
the table. It had an "s" shape with each tip broadened in comparison to the
middle connecting part.  In the recesses of Alan's brain, he "heard" the
illusionist tell him that his prostate was about to be stimulated by the
object he saw.  The piece of metal rose even with Alan; it floated by his
head so that he might get a good look at it.  Then it shot beneath him and
probed his tight back door muscle.  Criss gave a squirt with an aerosol can
and the metal object worked its way inside Alan's rectum.  He could feel it
twisting and probing inside him.  It found its intended target and began
rubbing against Alan's pleasure button.  Criss Angel's fingers worked the
movement of the metal object from about five feet below Alan's floating
frame.  The illusionist chanted louder and louder as the metal probe jabbed
more forcefully against Alan's trigger.

Suddenly, Alan arched his back uncontrollably.  His erect cock throbbed
like a beating heart.  Alan let out a guttural cry and ejaculated about
nine feet straight up.  The sexy model's spunk rained back down, dotting
his entire exposed body. Several aftershocks of cum likewise splattered
Alan.  Then, Criss Angel turned his wrist and the metal object left Alan
with a pop.

The super hot model grinned at the sensation he'd just experienced, and he
wanted to know if there was more to come.

"Most assuredly, my eager assistant, you shall enjoy some additional
stimulation."

With that, Criss waved his hand over the table again.  This time, his mind
force selected an object more cylindrical in shape with a curved end.  It
was also larger than the first object.  The new implement sailed over
Alan's head and spun in place like a gyroscope.  Criss motioned with his
hands and began the chanting again.  Alan Valdez took a deep breath as he
felt his anal threshold breeched again.  This time, the stimulation was
prolonged at his ring as if widening it for something bigger yet to come.
The metallic phallus worked its way deeper until it penetrated the muscular
stud's inner rectal muscle.  Alan felt it travel along his gut, giving a
cramping sensation.  This wasn't pleasant at all, but the discomfort
subsided when the object returned to the horny man's rectum.  It found his
prostate and picked up the stimulation process more like a hammer.
Simultaneously, a second object very like a hinged clamshell levitated up
 to Alan's scrotum.  The new object took a tight grip on the floating man's
balls.  As the internal object hammered more vigorously, the external one
squeezed and relaxed rhythmically.

Alan's eyes widened, his mouth opened to its limit as he grunted loudly,
and again his body launched a geyser of cum several feet into the air.  The
hot Mexican stud trembled and jerked from head to toe as the spasms
continued, but no additional fluid erupted from his rock-hardness.  Seeing
this response, the illusionist Criss Angel determined that the two devices
currently at work on Alan would produce optimal outcomes.  Criss waved his
hands and chanted loudly, and the two metallic objects appeared on either
side of Alan's head.  His eyes darted nervously from side to side so that
he could maintain surveillance of both.  In his mind's ear, Alan could hear
the voice of Criss Angel.

"Alan, I will continue to drain you.  When you begin to experience dry
orgasms, I will continue to stimulate you nearly to the point of madness.
In that state, you will think of Justin Bieber.  Any contact with Justin
Bieber in the future will result in additional treatments at my hand.  If I
perform these treatments enough times, your prostate will lose its
elasticity rendering you unable to have orgasms of any force.  You would
then only dribble your cum similarly to the way you lose precum when
excited."

Alan pondered this for several minutes. His cock began to deflate at the
sheer horror of what he was being told by the illusionist.

Criss waved his arms and chanted anew; the two metal objects regained their
original positions: one inside Alan's rectum, the other clamped to his
testicles.  The chanting grew louder.  Alan felt his pleasure sack
tightening inside as pressure built up on his scrotum from the outside.
The inner object jabbed relentlessly at Alan.  His cock throbbed painfully
and his balls ached.  Criss gave a great shout, held a fist in the air and
twisted it violently.  Alan felt an identical twist on his package and
against his prostate.  Suspended in mid-air, the muscular model's body
arched painfully at the waist and thrusted itself towards the ceiling.
Alan jerked like a rag doll with his cock red and throbbing as the dry
orgasm initiated.  His insides felt like they were being put through an old
fashioned wringer washer.  The stimulation persisted with the rising volume
coming from the illusionist.  Criss Angel kept this up for a full ten
minutes
 before lowering his arms and allowing Alan Valdez to gently float back
down to the body board.  Alan panted as tears rolled out of both eyes.

Criss Angel stepped slowly towards the exhausted muscle-model and placed a
hand on each of his shoulders.  The illusionist leaned in gave a
tongue-tangling, breath-removing intense kiss on Alan's sexy mouth.  Alan
kicked both legs out as he felt suffocation coming upon him.  Only then did
Criss relent; Alan took a deep, gasping breath and continued to pant.

He looked sideways from the body board at Justin who was standing about ten
feet away.  The studly Mexican model winked at him.  Criss caught that.

"So, you need another treatment so soon?  I will do my best not to drive
you insane, but I make no guarantees."

With a wave of his brawny arms, Criss Angel levitated Alan back to where
he'd been only a short time ago.  Suspended in mid-air, Alan was again
subjected to the invading prostate stimulator and the external scrotal
compressor.  The chanted grew again to a crescendo as Alan endured a series
of six dry orgasms that seemed to wrench every internal organ within an
inch of malfunction.  After the final spasm, Alan let out a scream as if
his entire digestive tract had been removed through his rectum.  Then, he
passed out.

The illusionist lowered his unwilling assistant to the table that supported
the body board.  He checked Alan's neck pulse and determined he still
lived.

"You made me a promise, I believe, my young friend."

Justin grinned and nodded.  Criss waved his cape, enveloped Justin in it,
and the two vanished in the flash of light and smoke.


Hope to hear from anyone who enjoys the latest installment.

Many thanks to new reader Jimmy, and to loyal fans Bill and Brian for their
encouragement.  I shall endeavor to make Chapter 10 as stimulating as 9
was.

madmax212542007@yahoo.com