Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2014 08:53:43 -0400 (EDT)
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO  Chapter  84 ready

DYLAN'S  SUMMER VACATION TWO


Chapter  84


by  Donny Mumford


As we leave the lavatory my bib overall's outfit is listing to the left  and
 hanging dangerously near my dick in the front while most of my left butt
cheek is exposed in back. The left strap is dragging on the floor uselessly
because Billy broke the snap ripping my shorts down in his haste to fuck
me. I'm  not sure exactly how long ago that happened because I was in a
delicious  submissive fog at the time. I'm not in a fog now though. Now I'm just
drunk, but  I'm a sexually contented drunk. Walking hand in hand we're
aimlessly walking  through the loud group of drunk gay men here at the club
portion of this  establishment, to quote the man at the front desk. Finally I
cough, and say,  "Um, where are we going, sir," and then remember I can call
him, Billy, so I  say, "Um, Billy." I forget why I needed to call him sir, not
that I care all  that much what the reason was. All I know is I'm sticking
with him because who  the fuck knows where John is. We haven't seen him for
quite a long time it  seems, and for the life of me I can't remember the
address of the studio. Also,  I don't have any money to pay for a cab even if I
knew the address.  Unfortunately Billy doesn't have any money either, but
I'm sticking close to him  anyway. Without Billy I'm lost in New York City
wearing this ridiculous bib  overall thingie with half my ass sticking out in
back and the top of my dick  showing in front. For all I know we could be on
our own and we're not really  dressed for normal public consumption. We
sorta need to find John who at least  is dressed normally, not to mention he has
money. Billy says, "We need to touch  base with John," and I'm thinking,
'No shit!' Billy shrugs, and says, " I have  no fucking idea when he's
planning on leaving, and he's sure as shit isn't gonna  come looking for us. He'll
figure that's our job." I go, "Oh," and step on the  strap that's dragging
between my legs. I hear a ripping sound and looking down  to see that more of
my dick is visible now, so I use my free hand to hold that  side of my
shorts up. No big deal to a drunk like me, but still it's awkward  holding hands
and holding my shorts up too.


We walk around the entire club without spotting John or his three  friends.
I say, "Lets wait by the door. It's the only one in or out of here so  he
has to go through it sooner or later." Billy mutters, "Yeah, if he hasn't
gone through it with those three guys." Oh fuck, even drunk I don't like the
sound of that. We lean up against the wall next to the door still holding
hands,  and now that we're stationary we get hit on repeatedly by inebriated
older men.  Billy handles the situation amazingly well. Not rude necessarily,
but he's very  direct and a little pushy with veiled threats of our 'dom'
being dangerous. One  of the men buys us each a drink which taste like cherry
something or other, but  I can tell it has alcohol in it too. He says.
"It's called Amoretto and it's an  after dinner liqueur." He asks us if we'd
like a smoke and Billy looks at me  while telling the man. "Thanks, but we
don't smoke," although he knows I do.  Man, I could really, really go for a
cigarette now. I look at Billy, trying to  act as humble as possible, and say,
"Please, Billy, just one." He sucks on his  lips, then says, "No." I say,
"Pretty please with sugar on it." He grins, then  laughs, "Oh, okay, just one.
I'll try one too." The man says, "We need to smoke  in the designated area,"
nodding his head to the left. It's a smoky room outside  the club, but we
can still see the steps that John would go down to leave. We  follow the man,
carrying our drinks, with Billy saying to me, "If we get in  trouble it's
your fault." I mumble, "I know, I'll take the blame." I'm holding  Billy's
hand, with my drink in my other hand, so my bib is hanging down  uncovering
half of my dick and all my left butt cheek. Our benefactor looks to  be in his
thirties, not unattractive, but not cute and there's nothing  particularly
sexy about him. He has brown hair with a nondescript, run of the  mill,
Supercuts haircut, an okay body with wide shoulders. Average build, about  my
height and he's rocking a dark two or three day's growth of beard, which is
getting to be the style I guess. It's not turning me on though and that's
because his whiskers look stiff and coarse. Not my thing.


In the smoking area the man says, "By the way, my name's Ron, nice to  meet
ya." Billy tells him our names without offering a handshake. Ron tells us
he has a yearly membership to this club. He's single so he comes to the club
a  couple times a month meeting up with guys he knows for some random sex
with one  or more of them." Billy says, "TMI, Ron," and Ron says, "Hey, I'm
not hitting on  you two. I just thought you looked lost so I'm offering you
assistance. Do you  need a ride or anything?" Billy says, "No, we don't.
We're here with our dom and  he gets a little crazy when we talk to other men."
Ron offers us cigarettes and  lights them for us, saying, "Well I'm the last
guy in the world to look for  trouble." Billy says, "Good to know," and
takes a big drag off his cigarette,  inhaling it and blowing smoke out his
mouth and nose at the same time. So, he  doesn't smoke, huh. My ass he doesn't.
A nonsmoker would be coughing like mad  from an inhale like that. I'm
smoking my cigarette like there's a time limit on  how long I have to smoke it.
Ron asks, "What's it like being submissive boys to  this crazy dom of yours?
Is it a slave/master thing?" Billy says, "No, it's  not." His short answers
don't give Ron much to go on, but he's not easily  discouraged. He says,
"That's so interesting. I've always wondered what it'd be  like having a
submissive boy, um, I'd want to pay mine though. I'd pay him  good." Billy has
nothing to say to that as he take another big drag off the  cigarette and then
blows a perfect smoker ring. How come I'm the only person on  earth who can't
do that? Ron says to me, "How about you, Dylan, would you be  someone's
submissive sex boy for say five hundred dollars a day?" Billy says,  "No, he
wouldn't." Ron's getting a little frustrated, he goes, "You're both  subs, as
you're called I assume, but you act like you're his, um, dom. Is that  the
correct nomenclature, or whatever it's called?" Billy says, "That's right,
I'm his dom when John isn't around and I'm taking over, as his permanent dom,
 after this weekend." Ron exhales smoke in Billy's direction, and
sarcastically  says, "Oh, you got promoted, did you?" Billy puts out his butt in a
large  communal ashtray, and goes, "That's right. I promoted myself." He
finishes his  drink, puts the glass down, and says, "Thanks for the drink and the
smoke, Ron,"  then to me, "Put your cigarette out, we're leaving." One last
drag and I do as  I'm told. Ron says, "How about another drink? We're just
getting to know each  other." Billy has a finality to his, "No, thank you,"
and to me, " Lets go,  boy," getting my dick stirring again. I love that
bossy shit, especially from a  cute guy younger then me.


We walk back into the club, showing the back of our hand, and resume
leaning against the wall near the door. Billy says, "That hit the spot, huh,
Dylan?" I go, "Yes, sir, er, yeah it did, Billy." Man, I liked the way Billy
handled Ron and that whole situation in general. Yep, I want some dates in
Salem  with Billy. He looks at me, then uses his thumb to wipe something off
my nose. I  don't want to know what it was. He says, "Come with me," and
pulls me to the bar  by my hand. He grabs a couple of napkins and hold them to
my nose, saying, "Give  a good blow." My dick moves as I think about Ryan
doing this same thing after  spanking me. Letting go of my bib, I blow my nose
and grab my cock. Billy takes  the napkin away, drops it on the floor and
smacks my ass, "Don't touch  yourself!" I mutter, "Sorry." My dick gets a
little firmer. Oh yeah, Billy and  me definitely have some dates together in our
future. Back to leaning against  the wall near the door. Billy's telling me
how our first date will likely go. He  says, "It won't be until three
weekends from now because I have a commitment to  John the weekend after next,
and next weekend I need to work. So you'll have  done some back sliding from
what you've learned this weekend. That means  our first weekend will be all
about going back over this weekend only I'll be  more stern with you next
time. That's obviously because I'll start right off  being your dom from the
minute you arrive." I'm looking at his lips move again  as he talks. He's got
the sexiest lips. As often happens with me, the longer I'm  with dominant
types the sexier they become to me. It gets stronger and stronger  and I'm
already feeling hot for Billy. It's only been an hour since our sex  together
and my groin already has that squirmy feeling again. Having the urge to
touch him, I reach out and rub my fingers through his bangs like I did before. I
 can't decide if they're sexy on him or girlie, but I'm leaning towards
sexy. He  stops talking and grins at me.   Hmmm, I realize I've no idea what
he's  been saying for the last five minutes. He pinches my nose, saying,
"You're so  fucking sexy cute! I'm really excited about us together. I thought at
first we'd  be best friends, but this will be so much better."

I'm staring at him feeling the hot's for him growing inside me, so I run
my fingers through his bangs again, fascinated that he'd wear his hair like
this  for all these months. I ask, "Will you still be seeing John when you
and I, you  know, are meeting in Salem?" He goes, "Well, like I told ya, I
think he's going  to dump me, but if he doesn't, then I'll dump him for you." I
go, "Oh, so you  won't need to follow his rules any longer. You won't need
to have a ponytail,  for example." He says, "Yep, and I'll be happy to try a
new hair style myself  after all this time. I've had a ponytail for about
five years, but John's the  one who cut the bangs on me, I never had them
before and it took a long time to  get used to them. I won't be sad to see them
go." I say, "I'm an awesome barber.  I can cut your hair anyway you want."
His eyes open wide, "Really? You're good?"  I say, "Yes, I am, even if I do
say so myself." He goes, "That's awesome! I  haven't been to the barbers in
years." Taking a chance, I say, "So, I guess we  both won't be following
John's rules, right?" He goes, "Right, I won't be  following anyone's rules in
my new position with you and, of course, you'll be  following mine." I'm not
sure I want to know what his rules are, but I have to  ask, "Um, will your
rules include a ponytail like John required, or will your  rules be
different?" He shrugs, "Until I can figure out new ones, they'll be  like John's
because I don't know any other rules but his." He pulls his ponytail  over his
shoulder, saying, "You and I will exchange places as far as hair styles  go.
You'll be my ponytail-with-bangs submissive sex-toy boy instead of me being
 John's." Oh fuck! That's gonna be a problem. A big problem. I never gave
it much  of a thought before because I had little intention of another trip
to New York,  but now this development. Hmmm, being kinda drunk, I press the
issue, "How about  the Prince Albert?" He asks, "What about it? If you mean
your PA, yes, you'll  have one and I'm not as particular as John about the
licensed body piercer. If  he's licensed, that's good enough for me. I
promise you'll have one, word of  honor, so you can stop worrying about that." He
still thinks I want one.  Ponytail and a PA, both deal breakers, but no
sense making waves  now.


Billy wants to dance, where my first choice would be to go to sleep.
Looking at my watch I see it's after one o'clock in the morning and I got up
before four this morning. Billy rules though, so we dance, but we do it near
the  door so one of us always has an eye on it. We dance for what turns out to
be a  half hour and we're dripping with perspiration when we finally call
it quits. I  danced holding my bib up most of the time and when I didn't hold
it up my dick  would make it's way out and flop around as I danced. Billy
dared me to dance an  entire tune with my dick hanging out and that got other
dancers pulling their  dicks out and it became a lot of fun. It's the first
trend I think I ever  started. Billy had his big piece of meat out too. It
was very close to actually  dancing naked. The booze everyone imbibed
tonight lessened inhibitions a lot. We  put our dicks away and asked the bartender
for water. He was laughing because  his station is near where we were
dancing and he thought the dancing cocks was  way cool. He gives Billy and me
draft beers on the house. We'd rather have had  the water, but the bartender
was trying to treat us so we thanked him. Billy  goes, "Another cigarette
would go nicely with this beer." I give him a funny  look and he laughs, "Okay,
I smoke, just not around John." We go in the smoking  room and try bumming a
couple of cigarettes. It's not hard because everyone is  drunk or close to
it. So we scored a couple of cigarettes, but we have to endure  a sweaty
kiss from a very gay older man who called us the most beautiful twins  he's
ever seen. We don't look alike, but the guy's hammered and he saw us as  twins
probably because we're both wearing identical bib overalls.  We wipe  our
cheeks after the kiss and luckily someone the old guy knows calls him over  to
them. We never got around to exchanging names.


After the cigarette we lean against the wall near the door again and I
almost fall asleep standing up. Then Billy's hand tightens on mine, as he says,
 "There's Cody," and he pulls me with him over to Cody who's so drunk he's
swaying on his feet. He goes to drink from his full drink and misses his
mouth  altogether pouring it down the front of his shirt. Billy asks, "Where's
John?"  Cody looks at us like he's never seen us before, then says, "Who?"
Billy says,  "John, your prep school roommate." This time Cody gets the
glass to his lips and  swallows some of the drink, then slurs something about
John didn't fuck him  twice tonight. Billy says, "Where is he now?" Cody does
an elaborate shrug  spilling some of his drink on the floor doing his shrug.
He looks at the booze  on the floor frowning comically, totally confused
how it got there. Billy says,  "Let me have forty dollars, John will give it
back to you." Cody sways on his  feet frowning at us now, and one of the guys
Cody and John knew at the bar hours  ago comes over, and asks, "Where'd the
fuck have you been Cody?" Cody laughs a  boozy laugh, muttering, "I got
lost." The other guy asks us, "You're John's  boys, right?" Billy says, "That's
right, where is he?" The guy's reaching in his  pocket, saying, "I've been
looking for you two the last, I don't know, almost  three hours. John had a
headache, he left like three hours ago and he gave me  this to give to you,"
and he holds out a hundred dollar bill, adding, "He said  to be sure you
save at least thirty buck for cab fare." Billy takes the bill,  saying,
"Thanks, man. You rock, dude." Cody sits on the floor and the other guy  says,
"Oh, fuck," and helps him up. We thank the guy again, and he says, "Well,
don't I get a kiss?" Billy kisses his lips quickly, mutters,  "Thanks  again,"
and leads me by the hand out of the club.


Going down the steps, he tells me. "John gets migraine headaches at times
and it ain't no fun being around him when he has one. Lets hope he's down
for  the night." Outside there are quite a few other guys trying to flag down
cabs.  Billy says, "We'll walk some blocks away so the competition for cabs
isn't so  stiff." I don't even give a thought that we've holding hands
anymore because  we've been doing it the entire night. As if reading my mind,
Billy says, "Get on  the other side of me, Dylan, this hand's going numb." I do
that, and now his  left hand is holding my right hand and I'm holding up
the left side of my bib  overalls with my left hand, so that worked out good.
Billy doesn't talk as we  walk five or six blocks away before trying to hail
a cab. He says, "Okay, try  here. You get us a cab," so I'm out in the
street as cars and cabs whiz by me.  Finally a cab pulls over and we get in.
Billy give him the address of the studio  and we're on our way at last. What
seemed an almost helpless situation has  turned out alright. The cab ride cost
just under twenty-six dollars, but the  cabbie pretends he only has
fifty-one dollars on him for change of the hundred,  so the ride actually cost
about fifty bucks, not that we give a shit, it's not  our money.


I stare at Billy going up in the elevator wanting badly to have dates  with
him, but not wanting a ponytail with bangs, and the PA is out of the
fucking question. I don't know if I should try negotiating these points or wait
until our first date. I'll probably wait until our first date because why
face  up to something now when you can do it later, ya know? At the door to
the studio  Billy has his hand on the knob, saying, "If this is locked we're
fucked. I don't  have a key and I'm not pounding on the door waking John up
'cause I'm not  looking for a strapping." He looks at me mischievously, "Will
it open, Dylan, or  do you and I cuddle on the street somewhere for the
night?" He turns the knob  and we walk in. John's at his drawing board drawing.
He's wearing only skimpy  pajama bottoms. He turn around, "Ah, my boys are
home. Did you have a good  time?" He's in a good mood telling us he slept
for an hour and a half and his  migraine went away. He tells us to get
undressed and put our butt plugs in, and  then he wants to hear all about our
night. Billy screws my butt plug in, which  hurt as it stretches my anus. When
it's all the way in I need to stoop forward a  little to accommodate it. I do
Billy's and John wanders over to check. With a  hand on my shoulder, he
says, "No, Billy, that's the same diameter that Dylan  wore earlier. Go up a
half inch." Billy twists the butt plug out and uses a  wider one and this
really hurts and is way too tight stretching the hell out of  my anus. It's
longer too and I thought Billy would never stop twisting it up my  ass. I grunted
quite a bit as it  was going in, but kept it short of  whining. When it's
finally in I can only take little steps walking. Neither  Billy nor John pay
any attention to my discomfort.  Billy's able to sit on  his butt plug, but
I remain standing as Billy does a hell of an accurate job of  detailing just
about everything we did the last three to four hours. He again  leaves out
his discussion with me about me being his boy.


When he's done John pats his back saying,  "Okay, you guys had a pretty
good time, but I wish Chickie had found you earlier  and given you the money.
There's still some unfinished business though, isn't  there, Billy? You
assigned a strapping to Dylan, so take care of that, then grab  a shower together
and I'll be ready for a little sexy fun with my boys, who I've  being
neglecting something terrible." Can I believe Billy had to tell John about  the
strapping part, I mean after all we've been through together today. Jesus!
Billy sternly says to me, "Assume the position, boy," and I try bending over
as  far as I can, but with the plug up my ass I can barely reach below my
knees.  John says, "Be careful not to strap his plug, Billy. To  be safe,
strap him across the back of his thighs." Oh fuck, that's much worse  than my
buttocks. I want to remind Billy it's only one strapping because I  apologized
my way out of the second one. No, I think it's probably best I keep  my
mouth shut. Billy walks over to the cabinet, saying to me, "Get over  here,
boy, but stay in position while you're doing it." It takes me  about thirty
tiny steps to get over to him. John went back to drawing, seemingly  not
interested. Billy swings the strap watching my little awkward steps.  Just
anticipating strapping me, Billy's cock already looks heavy. When I'm  in front of
him, I turn around and he swings the strap in the air a few times, then
rears back and whistles that strap through the  air connecting it half way down
my thighs and I screech out in a high pitched  wail. Billy chuckles and as
he's putting the strap away, John turns around to  say, "You are such a cunt,
Dylan. Maybe tomorrow we need to go through a series  of three strapping's,
letting you recover between each grouping of three.  Toughen up your ass a
little." I want to scream back at him, 'He hit the back of  my fucking legs,
you idiot, not my ass!' I think better of it and don't say it.  The pain
hammers my brain like a blacksmith hammering an anvil, and the back of  my
thighs continue to quiver. I'm thinking, 'Please tell me I'm in a  timeout. I'm
so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open'. John says to  Billy, "Remind me
to do that strapping exercise for Dylan first thing in the  morning, Billy.
We'll take turns strapping him, but for now you two take a  shower and then
we'll have ourselves a three-way. Leave the plugs in while you  shower so
you're nicely opened up for me, but don't get those collars wet." He's  a
sadist! He thinks I'm gonna go for a series, a fucking series, of three
strapping's each. Fuck that!


In the bathroom, Billy doesn't apologize  for the strapping. He acts like
it never happened. He says, "You use the  toothbrush first, Dylan, then me. I
say, "Whaddaya mean?" He goes, "All John's  boys use the same toiletry
items. Toothbrush, combs, hair brushes, like that.  There used to be underarm
deodorant stick but it finally got used up. John  allows his boys this one
toothbrush. Let me tell ya, it's brushed a lot of  John's cum off a lot of his
boy's teeth. This is the toothbrush his boys used in  prep school. The same
one, so Cody brushed with it along  with all the rest of us over the years.
John says it helps continuity and make  us feel equal." What a stupid bunch
of shit that is! The brush part of the  toothbrush is gray and the brushes
are almost all worn away. Billy says, "Better  yet, you brush my teeth and
then I'll brush yours. It'll be like best friends  do, you know, before you
become my submissive sex boy." Are these people out of  their fucking minds or
what? Taking a deep breath, resigned to get it over with  I put toothpaste
on what's left of the bristles and brush Billy's teeth with him  giggling
and laughing, his mouth open wide. It's all pink inside his mouth with
perfectly white teeth and white minty toothpaste. His  laughing gets contagious, I
mean this is so stupid. Billy doesn't even put more  toothpaste on to brush
my teeth and I get to laughing too. I guess it is kind of  silly/funny.
Camaraderie, ya know. Then, in the shower he's excited about the  three-way
with John that's coming up and so he babbles on excitedly as he baths  me and
shampoos my hair. The back of my thighs still sting like fire, but the
thundering pain in my brain has abated. By the time I wash Billy, shampoo all
his hair for the third time today, then we get dried off and I've blown-dried
his hair, by then the pain has faded entirely. As I pull Billy's hair back
into  a ponytail, he asks, "What style haircut should I get, Dylan?" he's
just as  friendly as he was before he strapped me. I guess both Billy and John
have grown  callus where strapping their boys is concerned. One thing I
know fer sure, I'm  getting out of here before the series of three strapping's
takes place. I've already decided earlier today I'm not parading around
almost naked on a leash tomorrow, so the earlier I can get out of here the
better. I'm so tired though it's gonna be tough getting up before either of
them. I'll worry about that later though. Billy says,  "I asked you a
question, boy." I'm trying to remember what it was, then it comes  to me, and I say,
"Oh, um, you'd look good with a flattop." Billy puts a finger  on his lips,
"Hmmm," he says, "From one extreme to the other. Yeah, maybe I  will."



We walk back  into the studio and stand at attention as best we can with
these wide dog  collars around our necks and fat butt plugs up our asses.
Finally John gets up  from his drawing table and comes over, to say, "Get those
plugs out boys so you  can enjoy my big cock up your asses." As we're
twisting each other's butt plugs  out John's at the cabinet getting something that
turns out to be leather strips,  so we're going to be tied-up it appears.
When our butt plugs are out and put  away, I feel back at my gaping asshole
and it occurs to me they never clean the  butt plugs. I wonder how many asses
my butt plugs have been up before mine? John  walks up to Billy and ties a
leather strip around Billy's elbows in such a way  that it pulls both his
elbows back past his ribs. Then he ties Billy's wrists  together across
Billy's chest. He laughs looking at Billy all tied up like that,  then says, "Just
getting those arms out of the way boys, and sometimes I like my  boys
helpless." Then to me, "Get over here Dylan and get your arms tied like
Billy's." It's claustrophobic to a degree being unable to move my arms, and then
there's the dog collar, but I've been tied-up a lot worse than this so I know
to  do repeated deep breaths until the panic sensation leaves my brain, and
then I  can handle it. "Get on your knees, both of you. Right next to each
other. That's  it, sides touching. You'll be my live double boy toy." When
we're on our knees  he ties our ankles together, and says, "There we go, two
sex toys for John. Live  ones too, and totally helpless." He ruffles my hair,
then says, "I want both  your mouths open wide with your tongues way out."
We do that, and he says, "Keep  'em open like that until I slide my cock
into your mouths. You cock suckers will  know what to do then." He pulls his
cock out of the pajama bottoms he's wearing  and slides it on my tongue into
my wide open mouth. John has the largest cock  I've encountered so far in my
travels. The head itself is a mouthful, but I'm an  experienced cock sucker
and, by the way, I don't consider being called a cock  sucker an insult. I
like sucking cock and a lot of other gay guys like it too,  so I'm not unique
in that regard. My lips and tongue do a really good job on the  head of his
cock and then John pushes in enough of the shaft that the bulbous  head is
against my gag reflex region at the back of my throat. I'm gagging as I
suck with my lips then drag my lips on the thick shaft while licking the head
and quite quickly his cock becomes fairly stiff. He pulls it out of my mouth
and  slides it into Billy's warm moist mouth on his tongue. I keep my mouth
open  watching Billy suck cock. I'm hoping for sloppy seconds. This sexual
activity  invigorates me and overrides my tiredness. Billy doesn't
disappoint, making a  lot of sexy slurping wet mouth sounds as he licks and sucks
John's cock for the  next three or four minutes. I can't help but watch as
John's log of a cock gets  really hard with that big vein throbbing. Pulling it
from Billy's mouth, sloppy  now and literally dripping with saliva, he moves
it to my mouth again. I feel my  cock boning up just thinking of sucking a
cock after Billy's sucked on it before  me. After a couple of minutes I'm
the one who gets a big glob of precum on my  tongue. I make a gulping sound
swallowing it with my Adams apple getting stuck  on my dog collar making me
gag and cough.


John pulls his cock out saying, "Dylan won the precum prize." Billy goes,
"Not fair, John." He says, "Luck of the draw, boy, but you get to be fucked
first!" For some reason he smacks the back of Billy's head, then tells
Billy,  "Bend forward, lean on your forehead and get that ass of yours way up."
I watch  Billy's body form a triangle with his forehead on the floor and his
knees  holding his ass up as John takes a big swing and a slaps his ass.
"SLAP!" rings  out in the studio leaving a hand print ion Billy's left butt
cheek, but not a  peep from Billy. John works up a mouthful of saliva and
drools it on Billy's  opened, limp anus. Butt plugs do a number on anuses. Hope
we don't need to sleep  with one up our ass. John teases Billy by inserting
the big swollen head of his  cock, then pulling it out making a wet plopping
sound, then again and again and  again. I'm curiously thinking, "Hmmm, John
didn't even tie our nuts and cock up,  just our arms and ankles. I mean,
we're helpless, like he said, but we're free  to cum easily too. So, I'm
thinking Sonny, Ryan and others I've been with could  teach John a thing or two
about BDSM. It occurs to me John's winging it and not  really sure what BDSM
is all about. Not that that's a bad thing. He tries to act  older and
sophisticated, but he's only twenty and doesn't even look that old.  The mystique
I somehow conjured up in my head about him seems silly to me now.  He's got
a bit of a sadistic streak in him, and he's a bit of a bully too, but  the
superior aura he seemed to have in Wildwood is missing. Wonder why I thought
he was so special? Fuck, it's weird the way your brain can play tricks on
you. I  wonder if my habit of projecting has something to do with it.

All that teasing in Billy's asshole has the once limp lips of his anus
actively trying to grip the head of John's cock, the muscles in Billy's butt
cheeks are tightening and loosening on their own and the lips of his asshole
are  now actively gripping the big fat head of that hard cock. Billy's
moaning  constantly, so maybe stimulating his anus was John's intention all
along. He's  mounting Billy ass now. The head disappears and as that humongous
cock  disappears into Billy's ass he squirms and lets out a long moan. Billy
tries  moving on his forehead as John's balls are now laying against the back
of  Billy's scrotum and John's cock is completely inside Billy who's
grunting, but  not in pain so much as he seems to be loving it. John's face
indicates he's  feeling tons of sensations on his boner too. He grips Billy's hips
almost  lifting him off the floor as he blows air out through an 'O' he's
made with his  lips, then he begins withdrawing his big boner. It comes out
shiny so Billy got  John's second big gob of precum and it spread in his
rectum getting all over  John's cock. There goes the biggest boner I've ever
seen disappearing back into  Billy's rectum causing another long moan from
Billy, "Aaaaah, oh my god, mmmm,"  and now it's all inside him again. John
retracts it and drives it in again, this  time John's head goes back as he lets
out his own moan, "Oooooh, yeaaaah," and  he begins steadily fucking Billy.
With each thrust of his hips John uses he grip  on the hips to pulls Billy's
ass towards him. I can hear that cock slurping into  Billy's bowels and the
familiar sounds of males fucking, a steady, "Slap, slap,  slap, slap," in
and out, in and out, each time the full length of his long fat  engorged organ
fully entering Billy's rectum. His rectum has to be stretched to  the
maximum accommodating that boner. I know how good a stretched asshole can  feel,
especially with John's huge cock in it because he's fucked me before. Two
minutes, three minutes of steady plowing Billy ass and it's one of the
hottest  things I've ever seen. My cock aches with tightness and I grunt to avoid
moaning.

I'm anxiously awaiting my turn and all other thoughts leave my mind. At
this moment I'm fully in the moment, that's all I'm interested in now and I
couldn't possibly stare harder at John awesomely fucking cute Billy's cute
ass.  His ass looks small compared to the log of cock fucking it. That
boned-up cock  looks even bigger now, longer and fatter from the sensations on it
stimulating  more erectile fluid to join the party. John and Billy groan and
moan with the  shiny piston disappearing up Billy's ass right before my
eyes. Billy's fat boner  pokes straight out from his body so tight it barely
moves as Billy's body is  battered from John slamming into his ass. Precum from
Billy's cock drips off the  head with each drive of that big cock up his
ass. The force of the thrusts moves  Billy forward slightly each time their
bodies slam together. Finally John pulls  that big ass boner out of Billy ass
with precum and ass juices connecting the  head of his boner to the lips of
Billy's ass. Billy limply rolls over on his  side, his ass facing me and my
eyes get big because his asshole is opened so  wide I can look up it and see
wetness from John's precum. John's breathing hard  as he swings his arm and
"SMACK!!" against my ass knocking me over. Another,  "SMACKS!!" of his open
hand with him grunting, "Get up, you cunt." I struggle  back up as he
pushes my head forward and I go down on my forehead sticking my  ass up as far as
I can. He grips my hips and the head of his cock spreads my  already
butt-plug-opened anus wider and wider until the head gets past my  sphincter and I
yelp at the pain. It's not overbearing, but it gets that way as  that
sloppy boner presses further and further into my rectum. I know this huge  cock
has just come from being up Billy's ass and that thought is so sexy to me  my
shoulders do their shudder and it helps the hurt inside me more bearable.
My  rectum stretches and stretches as the swollen head of John's boner makes
it's  way inside me.


I hear John grunt, "Ummm, aaah," and his hairy groin is flat against my
buttocks. Then he leans in hard against me and as I feel his big nuts laying
against the back of my scrotum, I moan, "Ooooooh, umm, umm, fuck me, John."
He  withdraws still grunting and I feel him shake as sensations must be
exploding  from his hard penis to the pleasure center in his brain. Out it comes
and then  right back in with me embarrassing my self for the hundredth time
moaning like  it's my first time getting fucked up the ass. Compared to
Billy, John's right, I  am a pussy. He grips my hips tighter and begins
steadily fucking my ass and I'm  delirious with powerful pleasure sensations from
my anus, prostate, and rectum  in general. It all combines along with my
super sensitive throbbing cock to  black out everything else in the universe
except that cock in my ass and my  boner. His grip on my hips is very tight as
he pulls me into his thrusts  forcefully. It quick, "Slap, slap, slap, slap,
slap," sounds until I hear a  squeal from myself that's so embarrassing my
face turns red as my cock pumps out  semen from my balls like I'm pissing it
out. A strong stream of cum splashes off  the hard wood floor spraying my
thighs and I can't hear, see, or feel anything  for a few seconds of an out
of body type of experience, and then everything  comes rushing back to me and
I squeal again which gets me another smack on my  ass. Then John pulls out
and I collapse on the floor facing Billy, who's back up  on his forehead and
knees, his eyes wide staring at me. I don't know how long he  was watching
me, but he wants more for himself as he pushes his ass up in the  air every
second or so like an engine being revved in  neutral.


There's precum drooling from John's boner as it disappears again up
Billy's ass and he moans almost as much as I did, which makes me feel a little
better. The awesome sensation of orgasm are zipping around my groin making me
shake a little, but I'm feeling really good. Then another shoulder shudder.
 Billy fucked me with his Prince Albert cock and just now I was fucked with
the  biggest boner I've ever seen, so I've had few better days getting
fucked. I take  a deep breath and it my turn watching Billy getting fucked, but
now it's not  nearly as arousing as the first time. My anticipation was so
high and I was so  sexually aroused then, now I don't have the desperate
sexual need I felt from  watching those two fuck the first time. I'm not saying
I'm not intrigued  watching Billy get fucked, it's now more a curiosity then
anything sexual. I'm  totally sexually satisfied at the moment and the
tiredness is overtaking me  again too. When I hear a high pitched squeal my eyes
snap open and I see Billy's  hips humping forward with a wild spray of cum
sputtering from his boner. His PA  and that other doodad pierced in the head
of his cock look extra painful in a  cock head as hard as Billy's, and the
PA caused the spraying effect when the cum  shoots out. I felt that spray of
cum up my ass too. John apparently had his  climax before Billy because
when his cock comes out of that wide open asshole  cum comes with it. Lots of
cum so I guess John never did get around to fucking  Cody the second time.


Billy's still moaning quietly, but it's a contented satisfied moan,  almost
a whimper. John lifts me to my knees, saying, "Mouth open," and I do  that,
but my hearts not in it. I suck on his cock cleaning some of that sloppy
goop off his cock and Billy cleans the rest off. Taking a deep breath John
steps  back stroking his softening cock, asking, "Are my boys taken care of
now?" Billy  says, "Oh yeah, John, you fuck good," so what the fuck, I say it
too because he  does fuck good, but I've totally had enough of his act.
Except for one or two  things he hasn't been horrible, but he just does 't do it
for me anymore and I  don't think that's because of one single thing, but a
lot of little things. I've  just lost my interest in him. John unties us
and rubs both our heads giving us  compliments about our asses, then telling
us we're the cutest things he's ever  seen. Dom's do that. They build you up
and then humiliate you in one way or  another. I don't know why I like it
and at this moment I don't. I want to get  out of here. Maybe this weekend has
cured me of my interest in sub/dom  matters... maybe.

John's  patting our backs and giving our shoulders affectionate squeezes,
but we're all  pretty tired and that hot sex takes more than a little energy
so everyone's  ready for bed. Billy puts the leather strips away and John
tells me to clean all  the spunk up off the floor. He shows me where the
cleaning stuff is and as I'm  doing that, I'm wondering if I should tell John
I've had enough, or just leave  unannounced. I decide to just leave and I'm
going to do it tonight as soon as  I'm sure there're asleep. John's getting
cleaned up in the  bathroom, then I hear his electric toothbrush. He's comes
out and Billy and I go  in. We clean each others asses and I get to clean his
hot legs of the cum that's  drooled out of his ass, then we wash our face
and hands, all without talking.  Billy does gives me a few smiles and a
squeeze at the back of my neck, then  kisses me. I'll miss him I guess, but who
knows, maybe we will have one or two  dates. We brush our own teeth this time
using that  disgusting toothbrush depositing a little more of John's cum on
the bristles.  Out in the studio again I ask Billy, "What are the sleeping
arrangements?" John  hears me, and says, "You sleep on your mat by the
bathroom, Billy and I sleep in  my bed." That's fine with me since I'm not
sleeping anyway. Not here I'm not.  I'm planning on sleeping in my car for a few
hours and then driving away from  New York City. It's had a few highlights,
but over all it hasn't been great.  Fuck it, I gave it a try and there was
some hot sex, but I  don't need to come to New York just for that. John says
hold your wrist out,"  and as I do that, I ask, "Why... um," and he puts
plastic cufflinks on me,  explaining, "It's just routine, Dylan. We wouldn't want
you sneaking away in the  night and missing your strapping training in the
morning. It'll be a hard  morning for you, but the rest of the day will be
grand with you at the end of a  leash with Billy making all the old queers
drool. Beautiful  weather predicted for tomorrow too." I look at my handcuffs
totally shocked at  this unexpected turn of events. Then I think, "Strapping
training? He was  serious about a series of three strapping's each? You
gotta be kidding me. John  says, "Lay down now, Dylan, and no more talking of
any kind or we'll start that  strapping training right now." He's not
serious, is he? I lay down as they get  in bed with sighs. The light goes off and
after some rustling around they're  still.



After a big silent yawn, I take my dog collar off with my heart beating
fast. It isn't easy getting it off because my hands are handcuffed together
and  they get in each others way. Plus, I need to tighten the collar even
tighter to  get the eye of the buckle out of the hole it's in. I manage though
and what a  relief getting that thing off. The handcuff are tight on my
wrists so I can't  get my hands free, but fuck that. I need to get out of here.
I'm naked of course  so I can't leave like this. I wait an agonizing half
hour fighting off sleep and  when their breathing is regular I take that as an
indication they're both  asleep. Tip toeing to the closet where Billy put my
clothes, seemingly a week  ago instead of yesterday morning. They're here,
so I bundle them up and quietly  tip toe to the front door. It doesn't make
a sound opening, but the hallway  light pours into the room so I step
outside quickly, and then carefully close  the door. A subtle click tells me it's
locked. Looking up and down the hall,  it's empty this early in the morning.
It's almost four in the morning. Getting  my shorts on is a test with my
handcuffed hands. I can't get my t-shirt or socks  on, but I've got my untied
sneakers on and my underpants and shorts on, so with  my shirt and socks
under my arm I head for the elevator, and hear a door open  and somebody yell
something. My head snaps around but the door must be around  the corner
because there's no open doors that I can see. The elevator takes it's  sweet time
getting here as I stare at the studio door. It remains closed and in  the
elevator I giggle at being free and then I laugh thinking what they'll say
when they see I'm gone.


Nobody's in the lobby so it's all good so far, but stepping out side,
believe it or not, there are a surprising number of cars, and lots of trucks,
whizzing by in the city that never sleeps. I think that's New York City. It's
 still pitch black so a guy walking down the street without a shirt, who's
handcuffed and walking in untied sneakers, might go unnoticed. This one
did. At  the Jeep I have a hard time getting the key out of my pocket and then
I'm in my  car and a few tears roll down my face. I was a fool for coming
here, but get a  grip! I start the car and do a u-turn heading back the way I
came. Before the  George Washington bridge there a place to pull over, which
I do and get out to  open the trunk space, such as it is in our Jeep. I
need something to get these  handcuffs off me. Tossing stuff around I find
gold. It's my Swiss army knife,  the one Chubby gave me last year as one of our
Christmas exchange gifts. I've  been wondering where the fuck this has been
for like eight months. Some more  tears roll down my face as thinking how
Chubby's helping me without even knowing  it. I've gone twenty-four hours
without sleep so I'm a little overly emotional.  This is a small version of the
traditional Swiss Army knife, but it still has  about six different utensils
in it. I need the knife blade, but opening this  with my hands handcuffed
is a challenge. It's a challenge I undertake in the  Jeep. I manage to open
the nail file which is no fucking help... fuck! It had to  be the nail file!
Five minutes later I get the littler of the two blades  opened. It's sharp
as a razor, but it still takes five minutes of sawing to  separate my hands.
It was awkward because my hands are together. I raise my arms  and massage
my neck that's free of that fucking dog collar. Ryan's dog collar  looks
like a necklace almost. John's looked like what the cab driver thought it  was.
A medical neck brace to prevent neck movement. I take a minute to call
myself an asshole for getting myself in this mess, and then I put my shirt and
socks on, tie my sneakers, put the Jeep in gear, and drive triumphantly
across  the bridge and out of New York City.


At the first roadside joint that's open for business I buy black coffee
and dump in many sugars as the old guy who served me stares at my matching
strange bracelets. I'll drink the coffee as I drive. It's bitter and almost
too  sweet to drink, but I treat it like medicine. The radio's on and I sing
as loud  as I can with the songs, mostly singing the wrong words, but it
keeps me awake  and so do the slaps to my face I give myself. I'm also chain
smoking in the car  which will piss off my brother, but this is an emergency
situation here. Staying  awake is essential and next in importance is paying
attention to my driving. I  planned to sleep in one of the rest areas along
the highway, but reconsidered  that, feeling there's potential danger there
with me being alone and all. I'm  going straight through, but wait a
second... where the fuck am I going? I can't  show up at home like this. Fuck it,
I'll worry about that later, just get in  Massachusetts and then decide what
to do. Route 84 goes on fucking forever it  seems and I could scream, so I
do. Eventually I see a sign for the Mass Pike and  I allow myself a few more
tears of relief. I'm still more then an hour or so  from Framingham, but do I
even want to go there? What will my explanation be?  Chubby wouldn't need
one, but the moms might be slightly concerned if they see  me in this
condition with a plastic bracelet around each of my wrists, bracelets  that look
suspiciously like two halves of plastic handcuffs. Then I curse that  fraud
John and hate on him for a few miles, but it's my fault. He just did what  he
said he'd do only he did it poorly, very fucking poorly, John. Ten
strapping's for you! Okay, I'm losing it here. Get a grip,  Dylan.


Driving on the Mass Pike for a few minutes I'm looking for the overpriced
food court with lousy food that appear every now and again along the Mass
Pike.  There always in conjunction with gas stations. There it is so I pull in
and  park, then look at the two parts of the handcuffs on my wrists. I do
not need  some curious cop killing time in there drinking coffee and eating
donuts to  notice these doodads on my wrists. He might feel he should asks
questions about  my choice of bracelets. Hmmm? I'll go in and scout out the
place. You know, see  if there's vending machines that I can grab a candy bar
and get out quick  without interacting with anyone. Inside, of course there
are vending machines,  but I don't see a cop. So far so good. What the fuck,
I use the bathroom for a  much needed piss, then decide I'll get some
sustenance at one of the restaurants  in this food court. Well, Dunkin' Donuts is
the only one open at seven-thirty in  the morning, so I'll use that one...
duh. I get a breakfast sandwich and another  coffee. The counter lady
doesn't even look at me, never mind look at my wrists.  Back in the Jeep I eat the
microwaved sandwich without tasting it as I'm forming  a plan in my head.
My brilliant plan is to call Cory and see if he wants to go  bowling. It's a
little early to be calling so I get the Jeep filled with gas  because it
always feels good having a full tank of gas. Then it's a thirty-five  minute
drive to route 495 where I get off the Mass Pike and head towards North
Andover going North on 495. In about forty-five minutes I drive into North
Andover second guessing myself about calling Cory. It's quarter to nine now and
I'm not thinking straight so I pull into a parking spot at a convenience
store  that's open twenty-four hours a day. It's hard to think because I'm both
wired  and tired. After not coming up with a better plan, and worried I'll
fall asleep  right here if I don't do something, I finally call Cory on my
cell phone. He  comes on during the second ring sounding excited, "Hi, Dylan.
I've missed you."  I'm crying again because I'm so fucking tired and I've
done something  inexcusably stupid by going to New York in the first place,
and then in the  second place driving from New York City without sleep for
the last thirty hours.  What's wrong with me? Goddammit! Cory says, "Dylan, is
that you?" Getting myself  under control as best I can, I say simply, "I
need you're help, Cory." He says,  "Yes, anything. What is it? Where are you?"
That's so fucking sweet, more tears  come down my face. He said 'yes,
anything'. Okay, fuck it, I'm crying again. He  asks, "Um, are you crying,
Dylan?" I say, "Yes, I'm crying. Um, I'm in North  Andover. Can I stay at your
house? I've been awake since quarter to four  yesterday morning." There's
silence, then, "What? Why? Oh, never mind that now.  Of course you can stay here.
We moved. Do you have a GPS?" I say, "No. Plus I  can hardly remember my
name, so I probably couldn't follow whatever directions  you'd give me." He
goes, "Meet me at Stop and Shop," and hangs up. I take a deep  breath and
light another cigarette, then throw it out the window and drive up  route 114
past Merrimack College to the Stop and Shop and park sideways across  two
parking spots.


Someone's tapping on my window with a key or something. What the fuck?
Opening my eyes I see Cory. Guess I fell asleep with the Jeep still running.
Huh. Putting down the window I gawk at him, then say, "Hi, Cory." He looks
shocked, then asks, "Are you drunk?" I shake my head, "Not now, I'm not. I
have  a wicked hangover though that, um, I just noticed now." He says, "Follow
me." I  almost get out of the Jeep to follow him because I'm so fucking
glad to see a  friendly familiar face. Cory gets in his mom's shitbox car
though so... oh,  follow his car, huh. A thought slides through my brain
involving a series of  three strapping's each. Fuck you, John! As I follow Cory I'm
telling myself all  the way, 'Don't fall asleep now asshole, you're almost
there.' He parks on the  street of this rundown neighborhood and I park
behind him. Getting out of the  car I almost fall down. He asks, "What's on your
wrists?" I wave my hand at him,  mumbling, "I'll tell ya later. Can I sleep
somewhere?" He says, "Yeah, in my  bed. Let's go." I follow him into the
apartment building and happily, for Cory's  sake, it doesn't look as run down
inside as it looked outside. We go up the  elevator with a very concerned
expression showing on Cory's face, so I try to  smile, but it doesn't feel like
a smile and a random tear rolls down my cheek,  and now he looks scared.
Down the hall we go, Cory patting and rubbing my back  lightly. The poor kid
isn't sure what to do, I guess. We stop at a door, and  while Cory takes out
his key, I lean against the wall trying not to fall asleep.  Inside the
apartment, he says, "My mom's went to church with her friend," and I  stare at
him stupidly, then mumble, "Church." He leads me into the bathroom,  helps me
get out of my clothes except for my boxer shorts, then points a my nip
ring, asking, "What's that?" I shake my head, muttering, "I'll tell ya later,
okay?" Then I just stand here totally out of it, my head aching and my
stomach  churning from the coffee and cigarettes. I can't even thank him. He uses
a wash  cloth to wash my face and hands. I plop down on the lid of the
toilet thinking  about nothing. Cory says, "Your breath smells like an ashtray,
open  your mouth." I do that and for the second time in the last six or
seven hours  someone brushes my teeth for me. I've done that for Chubby when
he's been  drunk a couple of time. "Rinse out, Dylan." Somehow I stand and
take the cup of water from Cory and rinse my mouth. There was mouthwash in the
water. Fresh breath, you know. Cory gives me three Tylenol that I swallow
with  the rest of the water and mouthwash combination.


Cory leads me to his small bedroom and gets me under the covers. The room
is air conditioned cool, and this bed just became my favorite bed in the
world.  Cory strips to his jockey shorts and gets in bed with me, putting his
arms  around me and hugging me against him with both his skinny arms, and
that feels  so wonderful more tears run down my cheek. Cory says very quietly,
"It'll be  okay, Dylan, I'm gonna take care of you," and those are the last
words I hear  before falling into a deep, deep sleep.


to be continued...    Donny Mumford    thinat20@yahoo.com



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