Date: Thu, 04 Jan 2001 00:39:43
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "A Brewster July 4" (t/b, m/t, incest)

Caution/Welcome.  This is a story involving four brothers, two preteens and
two thirteen-year- olds, engaging in various sexual acts with a
seventeen-year-old distant cousin, including domination and cum control.
It is posted at gay adult story sites for adult entertainment only.  If you
don't believe that young boys have sexual urges, or aren't turned on by a
handsome, muscular Scottish boy in a kilt, don't read this.  Permission is
not given to copy electronically nor in any other form for the purpose of
redistribution.  This is the fourth of the Brewster Boys Series.  Comments,
haggis, Independence Day cake or cute high school marching band boys (kilts
optional) can be sent to the author, J.O. Dickingson, at
authorsix@hotmail.com

			  A Brewster July Fourth

     "Oh, my, I can't believe it," said Brenda Brewster, staring at the
letter she had been reading.
     "What can't you believe?" asked her husband Barry as he looked up from
his newspaper.
     Brett Brewster's blue eyes sparkled as he mouthed behind his hand,
'I'm pregnant', causing his three brothers to giggle.  The
thirteen-year-old twin's fine, blond, shoulder-long hair bounced as he
tossed his head back and grinned.  Having his mother's delicate looks and
small bones, the four-foot-nine, ninety-pound teenager looked more like a
girl than a boy, but like his three brothers he had his father's
mischievous personality, and like any teenager who had recently reached
puberty, he had raging hormones.
     "Boys," began his father, about to reprimand them for the hundredth
time that week for whispering and giggling when others were trying to talk.
     "What can't you believe, Mom?" asked Brett's twin brother Brent,
distracting his father's attention from Brett.
     "Yeah, what can't you believe?" asked eleven-year-old Benny, helping
out his older brother.
     "Something good I hope," said the youngest boy, Bobby, doing his part.
The four boys had perfected a routine to distract their parents that had
become second nature to them.
     "Yes, wonderful news."
     "That's great," commented Mr. Brewster.  "So what is it, dear?"
     The four boys grinned, not because it was wonderful news, but because
their ploy to avoid a lecture had succeeded.  Usually when an adult had
good news the boys found it was a stretch to see what was good about it.
     "Our high school band is having an exchange with the Eastwood High
School from Capelrig."
     It was Benny who responded silently this time.  'Whoop-de-do,' he
mouthed as he spun his index finger in the air.  The eleven-year-old's
hazel eyes sparkled and his lips curled into a devilish grin.  With his
high cheek bones and his dark brown hair, shaved on the sides and permed on
top, the four-foot-five, seventy-four-pound boy charmed women and made
boylovers' hearts flutter just looking at him.  His grin added to his sexy
looks and caused a flutter much lower down in the case of the male
admirers.
     "Margaret and John's boy Gordie goes to Eastwood High School."
     "Who's that?" chimed in the four Brewster boys.
     "Well, that would be Great Grandma Nan's sister's great grandson."
     'Whoop-de-do,' Benny and Brent mouthed together, causing Bobby and
Brett to giggle.
     "Gordie is Grandma's cousin Rhoda's grandson."
     "Wow," said Brett, a gleam in his eyes as he glanced at his brothers.
Bobby snorted trying not to laugh, sending a burst of snot out of his
nostrils and causing his three brothers to almost roll off their chairs in
amusement.
     "Bobby!" reprimanded his father.
     "Sorry," he responded, wiping his upper lip with the side of his
forefinger.
     "Bobby!"
     "Oops, sorry," he said again, wiping his finger on his faded jeans.
     "So what is this about, Mom?" asked Brent
     "Yeah, so what is this about," chimed in his twin.
     "Hey, maybe you can tell us what this is about," suggested Benny,
causing the four boys to burst into another round of laughter.
     "You boys need to get outside and run off some of that energy,"
advised their father.
     "Hey, let's see if Cheryl will come play with us," suggested Bobby,
referring to their neighbour's stacked sixteen-year-old daughter.
     Mr. Brewster did not catch the sexual reference, his son only being
nine, but the three boys all knew what Bobby meant, and all four felt a
stirring in their pants as they thought of the possibilities.  If she
wasn't willing, there was her seven-year-old brother.
  The Brewster boys believed in equal opportunity.
     "Anyway, the band will be here on a week-long tour.  Mom has told
Rhoda that we live here and they are hoping we can billet him for the week.
His band is going to play in our July 4 parade!"
     "What's billet him?" asked Benny.
     "That means to put someone up at your home while they are here."
     "So we gonna billet Gordie?" asked Bobby.
     "Well of course we will billet him," said Mr. Brewster.  "It would be
great for you boys to meet one of your relatives from Scotland."
     "Just what relative is he?"
     "Well, I suppose cousins.  Third cousins I think it is called."
     "Do Scottish people speak English?"
     "Why, of course they do," said Mrs. Brewster with a smile.  "This is
going to be wonderful."
     "Yeah, way cool," said Brent, usually the one who knew the right thing
to say at the right time.  "So how old is third cousin Gordie?"
     "Well, I'm not sure," replied his mother.  "Let's see, Rhoda's
daughter was married in 19.  . . .  Well, let's see, it was two years after
her brother, so. . . . "
     The boys excused themselves from the table.
     "So what do you think?" asked Benny.
     His three brothers shrugged.  That pretty much summed up their opinion
of the event.  They headed for the park to see if there was anyone around
for an impromptu baseball game or maybe a jerk circle and forgot about the
conversation.  Even as their mother fussed about being sure the house was
spotless and worried what third cousin Gordie might think, and even with
the daily reminders by both parents that they had to be on the best
behaviour so they made a good impression on Gordie to take back to the
relatives in Scotland, the boys didn't really think about it.  Even the
afternoon they drove to the high school to meet the band being bussed in
from the airport six weeks later it was a nonevent as far as the boys were
concerned.
     As the bus pulled into the parking lot and the boys began to
disembark, the Brewster boys were disappointed.  The boys from Scotland
looked no different from any other senior high students, and like most
elementary and junior high students, senior high students were not exactly
on their list of favourite creatures.  The boys from Scotland even wore the
same type of clothes.
     The band teacher from the high school began calling out one at a time
the names of the boys from Scotland and the names of the families who were
billeting them.  The Brewster family watched as one by one the boys and
families were paired up.  "Gordie McGregor and Barry and Brenda Brewster."
     A handsome, lanky boy standing at five-foot-eleven and weighing a
hundred-and-forty-five pounds stepped forward.  The teenager had rough-hewn
features and the narrow jaw line shadow of a boy who had recently begun to
shave, a thick mop of curly brown hair, thick eyebrows, steel grey eyes,
and the Brewster's high cheek bones.  His earthy, down-home appearance
combined with his handsome, youthful looks was the stuff that romance
novels were based on and that made teenage girls swoon.
     "Ah figurrrred ye tae be the Brrrrewsters," he said in his heavy
Scottish brogue as he extended his hand first to Mr. Brewster, and then to
his wife.
     "How'd you know?" asked Bobby as his cousin shook his hand.
     "Well now, it wisnae thit harrrd.  Nae many grrrroups here wi fourrrr
wee bairns."
     "Wee what?" Benny asked, glancing around.
     "Children," explained his father with a smile.
     "Well, Bobby is wee anyway," observed Benny.
     'At least his dick is,' whispered Brent.
     'Up yours,' Bobby mouthed back.
     "Boys, no whispering.  How many times have we told you that is not
polite?"
     "Sorry, Mom," the brothers replied automatically.
     "Children," Mrs. Brewster said, rolling her eyes.
     "Well, Ah'm shair the lads arrrre jist excited," Gordie said with a
smile.
     The boys smiled back.  At last, a high school student who understood
how they felt, and stuck up for them in front of adults besides!  If that
was how all boys from Scotland were, they were going to be all for moving
to Scotland when third cousin Gordie returned.
     "Well, I think we all are excited.  It is a delight to finally have a
relative from Scotland visit us," said Brenda Brewster.
     "N it is barry tae be herrrre ma'am, sirrrr," Gordie replied politely
with a slight nod to Mrs Brewster, and then to her husband.
     Mister and Mrs Brewster exchanged glances.  Having Gordie around just
might have a positive influence on their boys.  Heavens knows they needed
it.
     "It's barry?" asked Bobby.
     "Great," translated their father.
     "Oh, then its barry ta meet ya," said Bobby.
     His parents grinned.  It was working already!
     All the way home the boys studied Gordie until finally he asked why
they were staring at him.
     "Boys, you know it is impolite to stare," reprimanded their father.
     "It's just he don't look no different than an American," Brett said.
     "Well, Ah suppose thit shouldnae be a surprise," said Gordie.  "Many
ancestors ay Amerrrrricans came fae Scotland ye know."
     "Yeah.  For independence and freedom and to start a new life and
because of poverty and all that stuff."
     "Sae, ye ken aboot ur history," Gordie commented.  "In Scotland
history n tradition arrre verrrry important.  The folks back in Scotland
will be glad tae hear the Brewster clan feels the same wae."
     The entire Brewster clan smiled.  Having Gordie visit just might be a
great experience.
     "Of course we don't have anywhere near the history Scotland does,"
observed Brent, figuring it was a good opportunity to stock up on a few
Brownie points.
     "Aye.  The McGregorrr clan can trace thir roots back o'er a thousand
yearrrrrs."
     "Billy Hollis can trace his roots back to before they were blond,"
observed Brett, referring to a friend of theirs who had recently dyed his
hair, and the boys giggled.
     "Well, it's wonderful you coming here to share in our history by
marching in the Independence Day parade," observed Mrs. Brewster as she
shot Brett a warning glance.
     "Aye, it will be a barry experience fir shairrrr," Gordie said as they
loaded his luggage in the trunk and piled into the station wagon.
     "I just love the way you talk," commented Mrs. Brewster.
     "Oh?" asked Gordie.
     "Yes, it's wonderful the way you roll your r's."
     "Rolls his what?" asked Bobby wide-eyed at the word he'd just heard
her use.
     "You know," his mother explained, "the way Gordie says the letter
'r'."
     "Oh, that.  Yeah, I never met nobody before who could roll his arse,"
said Bobby with a grin.
     "You're the first I've known to roll his arse," joined in Benny
     "Does everyone in Scotland roll his arse?" asked Brent.
     "Aye, Ah suppose they dae."
     "Maybe you can teach me how to roll my arse," said Brett.
     "Well it isnae thit ah dinnae want tae, but it isnae thit simple,"
said Gordie.  "Ah dinnae ken if Ah can teach ye."
     "Thought you said people in Scotland speak English, Mom," said Bobby.
     "They do."
     "That didn't sound like English to me."
     They all laughed, even Gordie.  "Well, ur Amerrrrican accents sound as
strange tae ma earrrrs," he observed with a smile.
     "We ain't got no accents," objected Bobby.
     "Oh, ye dae," observed Gordie.
     "Tell us about Scotland," interrupted Mrs. Brewster, sensing an
upcoming argument.
     The rest of the day was spent with Gordie filling in the family on the
comings and goings of the McGregor and Brewster families living in Scotland
until Mrs.  Brewster announced it was time to eat.  Supper was the first of
several surprises she had planned for her boys for the week.
     "What's this?" Bobby asked, turning up his nose at the object on his
plate.
     "Mmmm," observed Gordie.  "Kippes n crisps, ma favourite!"
     "What's kippes and crisps?" asked Benny, picking up one of the thin,
oval slices of potato and nibbling on it.
     "Thit is a crisp," explained Gordie.  "N kippes arrrrre salted n
smoked herring."
     "Oh yuck!"
     "Bobby, mind your manners."
     Bobby knew from the tone this was not a time for joking and he kept
his mouth shut.  He would have preferred keeping it shut for the entire
meal, and it was only under duress that he picked at his kippes.  If it
were not for the crisps, the four Brewster boys might have starved that
evening.  After supper they looked at family pictures and Gordie
entertained them with a few selections on the bagpipes, which he even
allowed the four boys to try.
     "That sounded terrible," commented Mrs. Brewster after Brent's third
attempt produced a skin-crawling squeal.
     'Sounded just like when ol'Bjornson shoved that plunger up Bayer's
butt,' whispered Benny to his brothers, referring to the incident he'd
witnessed between the school caretaker and the school principal the day
after Valentines Day.
     Brett was the last to try, and could barely make a noise.
     "Ye need a loat mair air in ur lungs," Gordie advised.
     'Then he should stick it up his ass,' whispered Brent with a wide
grin.
  'He never has a shortage of air up there.'  His brothers giggled and
Brett made a farting noise with his lips.
     "Boys," Mr. Brewster warned.
     "Sorry, Dad," the boy's chorused.
     "Ma Dad sez thit a wee tap tae a young-un's behind can gae a long
wae," Gordie advised with a smile.  Like Brent, he knew when to make
Brownie points.
     'So can this,' mouthed Brett to the amusement of his brothers as he
gave Gordie the finger when his parents and Gordie were not looking.
     The next morning the boys had two surprises.  The first was a heaping
bowl of steaming oatmeal set before each of them instead of their usual
bowl of Sugar Pops or Frosted Flakes.  That was the first of many
traditional Scottish meals their mother had planned in honour of their
guest.  The second surprise was their guest himself.  Gordie arrived in his
full band uniform: Prince Charlie jacket and vest, kilt, plaid hose and
flashes, and shiny black Ghillie Brogues.
     "My, don't you look fine," complemented Mrs. Brewster.  The
seventeen-year-old did cut a dashing figure.
     "Thank ye, ma'am."
     "Don't it feel weird wearing a kilt?" asked Bobby.  "Isn't it sortta
like wearing a skirt?"
     "Ahhh, nae," Gordie replied, and then glancing at Mr. Brewster, he
added, "it gies a mon a sense ay freedom if ye'd really like tae know."
     "Then you are wearing it military style?" asked Mister Brewster.
     "Aye, thit's the only wae," Gordie grinned.
     "A fine tradition," said Mister Brewster.  "You look splendid."
     "Thank ye sirrrrr."
     "What does military style mean?" asked Brent.
     Mr. Brewster and Gordie looked at each other and then smiled. "Well,"
said Mr. Brewster, "you are a little young yet to know about such things."
Being told that was a double mistake.  Having a secret and being told they
were too young simply made them all the more curious and all the more
determined to find out what their father meant.  After asking a dozen times
in a dozen different ways, he finally relented and told them.  The boys
knew if they kept at their parents long enough, they usually gave in.
     The knowledge that Gordie was not wearing underwear was too enticing,
and the boys immediately began wondering how they might catch a glimpse, or
better yet, grab a feel, under his kilt.  When he returned from touring
with the band and they waited for supper, they tried every way they could
think of for him to bend over, stretch or otherwise expose himself, all to
no avail.
     The evening meal, appropriate for the gray, rainy day it was, proved
to be much more interesting than the herring.
     "What type of soup is this?" asked Benny, always reluctant to try new
foods and even more suspicious after the previous evening.
     "It is a Scottish soup called cockaleekie," explained their mother.
     The boys glanced at each other, and together, asked, "COCK-a-LEEKie?"
     "Yes," replied their mother with a smile.
     "What's in COCK-a-LEEKie?" asked Brent.
     'One guess,' mouthed Brett and the boys giggled.
     "It's made from a stewing hen and leeks," replied their mother.
     Bobby took a noisy sip.  "Owww!  I've got a hot COCK-aleekie," he
announced.
     "Hot COCK-aleekie is the best kind," observed Brent.
     "Bet it's the leek that makes it hot," observed Brett.
     "What is a leek, Mom?" asked Benny impishly.
     "It's a type of onion."
     "So this is what a leek tastes like," observed Brett, causing Bobby to
spray a mouth of soup across the table.
     "Bobby," reprimanded his father.
     "It's Brett's fault."
     "What did I say?"
     "Boys," began their father.
     "Well I think, COCK-aleekie tastes great," announced Benny.
     "Yeah me too.  Can I have more COCK-aleekie?" asked Brent, helping to
distract their dad.
     "So your mother make lots of COCK-a-LEEKie?" Brett asked Gordie,
adding his contribution.
     Bobby just made a loud, slurping sound and then glanced up at his
brothers.  He was the mirror image of his brother Benny, only sixteen
pounds lighter and three inches shorter.  Making another loud sucking
noise, he grinned impishly at his brothers as they turned red trying not to
laugh.
     The bannock, a flat cake of barley, that their mother had also
prepared didn't receive any attention at all.  After supper they listened
to Gordie's replay of the day's tour and the boys occupied the time trying
to look under his kilt and trying to grab a feel without being obvious.
The thoughts and frequent attempts had the obvious effect on the boys, but
being oblivious to their sexuality, their parents did not notice the bulges
in their jeans.  The boys left the room frequently to go to the bathroom to
satisfy their urges, but being young, they were up again almost as soon as
they returned to the room and continued their antics.
     "Benny, that's your third time you've had to go to the bathroom,"
observed Brenda Brewster.
     "Sorry, Mom.  Must have been the soup."
     'Makes you grab your cock and take a leekie,' whispered Brent, and
Brett and Bobby snickered.
     "Boys, you've been told how impolite it is to whisper," reminded their
father.  He had lost count how many times.
     "Aye," agreed Gordie.  "It shows respect fir others in the room."
     It was all that Mister and Mrs Brewster could do not to say, "see,
your cousin knows."  They were not, however, that type of parent.  They
simply glanced at him and smiled their appreciation for his support.  There
were quite a few things very likeable about the boy, and his upbringing and
attitude about manners were definitely two of them.
     The four Brewster boys were very much aware of Gordie's intentions,
having used the ploy themselves many times to gain favour when they needed
it.  Although they understood, and even admired him for doing it, it was at
their expense, and that he was going to have to pay for.  Their third
cousin was interesting and even fun sometimes for a high school student,
but there were some things that were unforgivable.  What he'd just done was
one of them.  For now, they just looked down at the floor contritely.
Gordie's time would come.  They did not know it, but that time would be the
next day.
     The next day was Independence Day.  It started with a very un-American
breakfast: drop scones, supposedly a type of pancake although the boys
could not see the similarity.  Then, while Gordie, dressed in his Eastwood
High School Scottish Pipe Band uniform, joined his classmates, the Brewster
clan staked out a site along the parade route.  It was a typical Fourth of
July parade with marching bands and colourful floats, clowns and guys
dressed in hot sweaty mascot costumes, old cars with honoured old timers
and flashy cars with dignitaries and politicians.  Gordie looked very smart
in his uniform and the band played well.
     Following the parade they went to Centennial Park where the Kinsmen
were providing hotdogs and McDonalds was providing the juice for lunch.
The do-gooder social types had organized games for some good old-fashioned
family fun for the afternoon.  The Brewster adults had run into some
friends and had retired to the shade for a few beers and reminiscing.
     "You mind looking after the boys for a bit while we visit?" asked Mr.
Brewster.
     "Ahhh, fir shair.  Ah'd be glad tae dae thit fir ye."
     "We don't need looking after."
     "Yeah, we don't need no babysitter."
     "Now boys, I didn't say that and you know I didn't mean that," said
their father.  "What I meant was you five can go do something together
while we adults talk."
     The boys opened their mouths but found they could not argue with their
father's statement.  That did not happen often.  They headed across the
lawn.
     "Sae, what wid ye lads like tae dae?"
     "We don't need looking after.  You can go do something yourself, we
don't mind."
     "Yeah, go look for girls."
     "Nae, ur faither said tae look eftir ye, n thit is what Ah'm gaunny
dae."
     "Don't you like girls?"
     "Ay course Ah like the birds."
     "You do it with birds?" Bobby asked, wide-eyed.
     "Birds.  Thit's what we call girls in Scotland."
     "Oh, I thought maybe you had a thing for storks or something," said
Bobby and his three brothers laughed and gave him high-fives.
     "Thit's nae the type ay thing fir a wee bairn tae be saying,"
admonished Gordie.
     "Actually we've been wondering if maybe you were a homo," observed
Brent.
     "Especially wearing that skirt," said Benny, purposefully using that
term.
     "Ye should nae be making fun ay a mon's kilt," Gordie reprimanded.
"The kilt has a long history tae be proud ay.  Besides, bairns as auld as
ye shouldnae be talking aboot homosexuals n such things."
     The boys rolled their eyes, a habit of their mother's.  "What should
young children be talking about?"
     "Aboot the fun games the adults huv planned fir ye this eftirnoon."
     "Whoopie," said Benny.
     "That reminds me, I got to go pee," said Bobby.
     "Ye should huv thoat ay thit when we were by the bog," observed
Gordie.
     "By the bog?  What bog?"
     "Bog," Gordie repeated as he thought for a moment.  "The men's room."
     "I didn't have to go when we was by the men's room."
     "Here, this looks like grrrrand fun, n something ye lads should be
good at," commented Gordie.
     "Sac races?"
     "Aye.  Now gaun, join in."
     "Aw, Gordie."
     "Ye dinnae want me tae be telling ur faither ye huv defied me, dae ye
now?"
     "I got to go pee, bad!"
     "Later."
     The boys knew there was no arguing.  They got in the sacs and made a
half-hearted effort to enjoy the races.
     "Nash!  Nash!" called out their cousin.
     Brent, near the front, turned and purposefully got in the way of
several who were ahead of his twin brother.  "Nash?" he asked.
     Gordie had to think for a second, his face turning red with
frustration.  "Hurry!" he finally explained.
     "Oh," said Brent as he turned and continued hopping, by which time
almost everyone had passed him but he'd given his brother the lead.
      After several races, they continued wandering.  They passed the
port-a-potties.
     "Hey Bobby, now you can go pee."
     "Don't got to no more."
     "Thought you had to go bad."
     "Did."
     "So what happened?"
     "I went."
     The boys looked at his crotch, and then up at him.
     "But how?  When?"
     Bobby grinned, and nodded back to the sac race.
     "You went in one of the sacs?"
     "Well, I couldn't wait."
     "Ewwww.  Glad I didn't get the sac after you."
     "Hey, it could have been worse.  I could have had to do number two."
     "Ewwww," said his three brothers.
     "Hey face painting," observed Brent, and the boys all thought back to
Easter and the fun they'd had with painting back then.
     "Now thit is barry, wholesome fun," observed Gordie.
     "I wanna paint you, Gordie."
     "Well, now, Ah dinnae ken-."
     "You said it was good wholesome fun."
     "Well, aye."
     "I want to paint the flag on your forehead."
     "Well, Ah suppose thit would be awright."
     Gordie sat down and the boys got to work on him, the twins on each
cheek, Benny on his forehead, and Bobby on his chin.  They were done in a
suspiciously quick time.  They stopped to play tag, but soon were chased
along when the four boys insisted on tagging below the belt, and were
accused of doing more than just tagging.  Of course all four claimed
innocence.  Giving in to Gordie, they joined in with the crafts, but when
the boys began a game of who could make the loudest armpit fart noises,
ending with a particularly loud and impressive thunder which odour quickly
revealed to have been made for real, they were chased along again.
     Gordie had during this time noticed a lot of people staring at him.
At first he just thought it was his band uniform, but then he began to
notice a pattern in their reactions.  The older people looked shocked and
many of the children and teens snickered.  A couple college-age boys gave
him the thumbs up and said "way to go".  Finally at one of the booths
selling crafts he caught a glimpse of his face in the shiny glass of a
painting.  His cheeks had large pink triangles painted by the two twins,
the corners of his mouth and his chin had a dribble of white paint, and on
his forehead was printed "The Fag".
     "What is this!"
     "What?"
     "What ye huv painted oan ma forehaid!"
     "Oops," said Benny.
     "Oops?"
     "Sorry, I forgot the L in Flag."
     "The L?"
     "The L you say," grinned Brett.
     "The L he said," confirmed Brent.
     "I told you I was going to paint 'The Flag'."
     "Ah thoat ye meant paint it, a picture ay it."
     "Shit, I can't paint 50 little stars.  That woulda taken all
afternoon."
     On the way to the washroom the boys could not resist tripping up a man
entertaining everyone on stilts.  After Gordie had washed the paint off his
face, they paused at the magic show but were soon asked to leave as the
boys commented on how poorly the tricks were being performed and speculated
on how they were done.  The raw egg on a spoon race began well until the
judge, a fat lady in a print flowered dress, sat down and discovered
someone had left an egg on her chair.  The juggler was also doing fine
until Bobby pointed out, mistakenly he later claimed, that his fly was
down.  Gordie had never known boys who could get into so much trouble and
yet have a good excuse for everything that happened.  He was certainly glad
when they finally rejoined the boys' parents for a picnic supper.
     Mrs. Brewster had brought cold ham and potato salad and they bought
hot corn on the cob from a vender and had apple pie for desert.  The boys
had expected somehow their mother would have packed a Scottish picnic, and
were delighted to have two meals in a row that were completely American.
The four boys totally stuffed themselves.  Giant slabs of sponge cake
decorated like a flag had been prepared by the organizers of the outing and
everyone was given a square.  To their parents' surprise, the boys decided
to save their pieces for later.
     After their picnic, the boys tried to get away on their own, but their
parents were not so easily escaped.  To Gordie's dismay, they had
four-and-a-half more hours to go before the day concluded with the
traditional fireworks display, and the adults wanted to spend it without
their boys.  Considering their mischievousness, Gordie could understand
why.
     "Why are we going this way?" asked Brent.
     "Ah huv tae gae tae the bog," observed Gordie.  "I huv tae tak a
leak."
     "You can go in the bushes."
     "Yeah," agreed Benny.  "It's a long way to the bathrooms."
     "My little legs can't walk that far," complained Bobby in support.
     "Yeah, we'd be wasting time," observed Brett, doing his part.
     Gordie thought better of it, but he did have to go badly, and Benny
was right, it was a long way to the bathrooms.  Allowing the boys to guide
him, he was taken to a far corner of the park and deep into the bushes, a
spot that had fond Easter memories for the boys.
     Arriving at a clearing, the boys surrounded him and waited patiently for
him to finally reveal his claim to masculinity.  He actually looked very
handsome in his bear skin cap, Prince Charlie Jacket and vest, and plaid
kilt.  Even the boys thought the tasselled fur sporran, large shiny school
badge and gold-coloured kilt pin, white hose and bright blue and green hose
flashes, and black leather Ghillie Brogues made him look really sharp.
     "Well, ye dinnae need tae starrrre," Gordie said as he reached under
his kilt.  "Ah dinnae huv anything ye boys dinnae huv urselves."
     "So let us see it," said Bobby.
     "Yeah, take it out," said Benny.
     "Take it out, take it out," the four boys began to chant.
     "Nae, ah'll dae nowt until ye bairns turn ur backs."
     "Now?" asked Bobby.
     "Now," agreed Brent.
     Three of the boys suddenly leaped on Gordie, catching him by surprise
and knocking him to the ground.  Bobby ran to the nearby bushes and quickly
returned with the rope that had been used for marking off the races.
During one of their frequent trips to the bathroom during the evening
picnic they had stolen the rope and hidden it in the bushes for this very
moment.  The four boys quickly tied Gordie up, throwing the rope over a low
branch and tying his ankles and raising his legs and butt so his feet were
above his head.  They finished the job by tying his arms to his ankles.
     "What dae ye lads think yer daein?"
     "We're going to show you some real good old-fashioned American fun,"
replied Benny as he began to unbutton the Prince Charlie jacket and vest.
     "Ye bairns stop thit this instant!"
     "Wow, look at the hair on his chest."
     The seventeen-year-old did have an impressive mat of curly brown hair
across the top of his broad, muscular chest.  It continued as a band down
the centre of his midriff to the elastic band of his kilt.  In the position
they had trussed him up, his kilt had fallen open, revealing his genitals,
and his ass, and both were considerably hairy in their own rights.
     "Bairns as auld as ye should nae be daein this."
     "C'mon, we just wanna show you how we boys in America have some fun,"
replied Brent, giving into temptation and reaching for the boy's exposed
genitals.  He ran his fingertips over the two large, wrinkled sacs.
     "Lad, git ur hands oaf ma baws!"
     "Okay," said Brent agreeably as he slipped his hands up to the base of
the boy's inverted limp cock.  Holding it between his thumb and first two
fingers, he began to wag the flaccid tube.
     "N oaf ma knob!  Ye shouldnae huv yer hands oan a mon's tackle."
     Ignoring his cousin, Brent gently caressed the tip with the tip of his
finger, just barely touching it.
     "Ah, Gawd, nae, dinnae dae thit.  Ah huv tae tak a pish."
     "Go ahead," Brent teased, aiming the bound boy's cock at his mouth and
tugging on it.
     "Brent, nae!"
     "Hey, I got an idea," said Bobby.  He ran to the bushes and returned
with a large discarded Slurpee container.  "You can piss in this."
     "Jist untie me n lit me gae as a mon is meant tae gae."
     "Un-un, it's in the container, or in the mouth, that's it.  So which
one will it be?" asked Brent menacingly as he ran his fingertip lightly
over the sensitive tip again.
     "Awright, awright!" gasped Gordie as he squirmed and tightly squeezed
shut his sphincter muscle in a desperate attempt to hold back the dam that
was about to burst.
     Brent aimed the boy's hose at the discarded Slurpee cup but between
his unusual and susceptible position and being watched by the four boys,
the seventeen-year-old found it impossible to empty his bladder.  Once
again Brent began to gently tickle his peehole and Gordie trembled as the
tingling sensation passed over his dick head and down his ureter.
     "Piss," Brent encouraged.  "Pisssss."
     "Pisssss, pissssss," the four boys began to chant.
     Between the boys' urging and the stimulation of his peehole, Gordie
finally felt his urine begin to flow through the core of his cock A second
later it streamed out of the tip and into the Slurpee container.  The boys
laughed at the hollow ringing and then bubbling as he began to fill the
container and they joked what would happen if it was not large enough to
hold all his bladder had contained.  Gordie cringed with the fear and
thought of his urine overflowing the container and splashing in his face
and trickling down to soak in his band uniform.  He did have to go very
badly.
     Brent further teased the tortured boy by pretending to fumble with the
container and almost drop it.  Gordie held his breath as the sound of the
plasticized cup being filled became less hollow as he emptied his bladder.
To Gordie's relief, he finished before the Slurpee container was filled.
Waiting until his flow ceased, Brent put the container down and then shook
the boy's penis, impishly splattering his face and chest with his warm
droplets.  Brent continued to shake and to tug on his penis long after he'd
dislodged any excess urine.
     "Ah'm done," Gordie said.  "Ye can stop anytime now."
     "Stop?" asked Brent as he tugged faster on the boy's penis.  "Fuck,
I'm just beginning."
     "Do you think he's going to have a big one when it's stiff?" asked
Bobby.
     "I don't know, but we're sure the fuck going to find out," replied
Brent.
     "Ye shouldnae be playing wi a mon's knob," admonished Gordie, "or
saying such a bad word.  Proper boys would nivir dae sich a thing."
     "Who ever said we was proper boys?" asked Benny with a giggle, causing
his brothers to laugh give him high-fives.
     "Let some of the rest of us have a turn," complained Bobby.
     Gordie tensed as Brent's hold was replaced by Bobby's hot little hand.
The nine-year-old pulled down on Gordie's limp cock, stretching it as far
as he could.  Returning it to its normal position, he began to draw the
boy's foreskin toward the base.  Gradually the teenager's dark purplish
head peeked out of the ring of skin.
     "How come his cock is so different from ours?" Bobby asked as he
continued to push the skin down the shaft of his victim's cock.
     "Cuz he's uncircumcised."
     "What's that mean?"
     "That means he still has all his foreskin."
     "Cool," observed Bobby, watching carefully as he continued to push the
skin down until he finally revealed the teenager's purplish knob.
     "He's not getting a boner very fast."
     "Let's tickle him with that powder puff thing."
     "Sporran," corrected Gordie.  "It's called a sporran, n ye leave it
aloan."
     "Okay, let's tickle him with the sporran."
     The boys undid the chain strap, releasing the fur pouch.  They ran it
gently over his cockhead and his balls, and then the inside of his thighs.
Gordie squirmed and trembled with the erotic stimulation.  His cock slowly
began to swell.
     "It's working!"
     "Way cool!"
     "Way to go!"
     Gordie could do nothing as his body slowly responded to the
stimulation.  He knew voicing his objection would only fall on deaf ears.
Finally his seven-and-a-half inches of solid Scottish cock was sticking
straight out from his body.
     "It's long," Brent said with a hint of admiration in his voice.
     "And fat," observed Bobby as he wrapped his hand around the solid
bone.
  "Feels twice as thick as yours, Brent."
     The one-and-a-half inch diameter cock was the thickest cock the boys
had seen in their young life.  The boys crowded in closer.
     "Hey, what is this in his sock?" asked Benny.
     "Wow," the boys chorused as he slid out a short, sharp dagger with a
thistle-shaped handle.
     "How come you're carrying a knife?" asked Brent.
     "Pit thit doon!  It is called a sgian dhub.  It's part ay the
tradition ay the kilt."
     "Cool," observed Brent as he studied it, and his brothers all agreed.
     "So, what we gonna do now?" asked Bobby, anxious for some fun as
always.  The sight of the horny, erect, seventeen-year-old boy had gotten
him erect too, and his brothers were well on the way to becoming aroused.
     "Well, we could play with his bumhole, or his cock, or both,"
suggested Benny.
     "I wanna sit on his hairy chest with my bare bum and get sucked off,"
said Bobby as he drew his tank top off over his head, revealing the
nine-year-old's skinny chest and even narrower waist.
     "Ah'm no Nancy-boy."
     "No what?"
     "Nancy-boy.  Pooftie."
     The boys looked at each other and then at him blankly.
     "Homosexual.  I'm no homosexual."
     "Oh," said Bobby, slipping off his Nike runners and socks and pushing
down his blue jeans.  "That don't matter."
     "Lad, pit ur troosers back oan!"
     "It'd be more fun sitting on your chest bare butt," said Bobby,
pushing down his white briefs and revealing a stiff little three-inch boner
jutting up in the air like an obscene little flag.
     "What dae ye think yer daein pushing doon ur keks?" Gordie asked,
staring at the nine- year-old's little cocklet.  He had no idea a boy that
young could get erect.
  "Yer nae auld enough tae be daein this.  Now pit yer keks back oan this
instant!"
     "My what?"
     "Ur keks, ur underpants."
     "You wanna suck my cock through my underwear?" Bobby asked with a
grin.
     "Nae!  Where dae ye git sich ideas?" Gordie replied with disgust.
"Yer only a sprog."
     "What did you call me?"
     "A sprog," he replied as he thought desperately, which was not easy
with the naked youngster standing there fiddling with himself .  "A child."
     "Yeah, well, I'm a horny sprog," Bobby replied.  "So you going to suck
my dick or not?"
     "Nivir!"
     "Then I think Gordie needs a good spanking, what do you guys think?"
     "Oh yeah," his brothers joined in.
     "I hear a wee tap oan a young-un's backside can gae a long wae,"
observed Bobby and his brothers chortled.
     He delivered a solid, loud slap to the teenager's exposed, naked butt.
It smarted, but Gordie was not going to admit that the little nine-year-old
had caused any pain.  His pride simply resulted in Bobby delivering him an
even harder slap.  The boys laughed at the reddish palm print left on the
teenager's buttock.  Benny stepped up and slapped the other side as Bobby
continued to spank the right buttock.  Gordie could not help but wince as
the boys delivered blow after blow.
     "So, you ready to suck my cock now?" asked Bobby.
     "Nivir," replied Gordie, "n ye can spank ma perr erse aw ye want."
     The twins took over and Gordie winced and jerked as between them the
four brothers brought his tender buttocks to a rosy glow.  They felt hotter
than any sunburn the boy had ever experienced and as they continued he
could not help but cry out with the pain as each boy slapped his now
tingling, burning arse.
     "You gonna do it now?"
     "Ah'll nae tak ur penis in ma mooth no matter what yer gaunny dae."
     "Oh yeah?" asked Bobby as he sat on the boy's chest.  He squirmed and
wiggled his tiny, naked butt.  "That feels so weird," he observed.
"Instead of sucking my cock, you can drink your pee then.  Give me the
container."
     Brent readily handed him the Slurpee container, purposefully splashing
a bit of the now lukewarm liquid on the bound teenager's arm.
     "Drinkie drinkie," grinned Bobby as he held the container to Gordie's
lips and prepared to tip it.
     "Ye wouldnae dae it!"
     "I would," grinned Bobby, "unless you agree to suck me instead."
     "You can fuckin bet on that," agreed Benny
     Gordie stared in horror at the yellow fluid beginning to bulge at the
edge.  He had no doubt Benny was right.  "Awright, awright, stop!"
     "You'll suck my cock?"
     "Aye."
     "Way cool!"  Bobby handed the container to his brother and snugged up
to Gordie's head.  The teenager reluctantly opened his mouth and Bobby
eagerly slipped his little pricklet in. Gordie closed his lips and began to
suck, as he knew he'd have to sooner or later anyway.  He figured the
sooner he did this the sooner it would be over.  After all, the child would
probably be bored in a matter of minutes.  A moment later he felt something
very wet and hot pressing against his anus.
     "What's gaun oan?  What are ye daein?"
     "I'm going to give your asshole a good fucking," replied Brent.
     "No, ye cannae stick yer knob up ma choc-box."
     "Choc-box?  Hey, cool word!" said Brent.  "But you're wrong.  I can
stick it up your choc-boy, and then I'm gonna really roll your arse."
     "A wee bairn should nae be knowing ay such things, let alone daein
them."
     "Hey, I've been knowing and doing such things for years."
     "Nae!  Stop!" Gordie called out as he felt the youngster's cock press
against his opening.
     Brent did not stop, and Gordie shivered as he felt the youngster's
spit-slickened cockhead force apart his sphincter and begin to enter him.
"Shite, Brent stop thit now!  Aggh, ye dirty wee wanker!"
     "That's Brent," laughed Brett, and his brothers chortled.
     "I'll stop alright, but not until I've filled your asshole with my
cum," Brent promised.
     "Where did ye bairns ivir learn sich things?"
     "The net," replied Brent.
     "Friends," added Brett.
     "My perv brothers," Bobby answered, smiling impishly at the twins and
Benny.
     "Don't forget the magazines hidden under Dad's bed," reminded Benny.
     The conversation ended there.  Brent and Bobby began to concentrate on
the feelings passing through them, and Brett and Benny concentrated on
watching their two brothers as they also began to strip.  Gordie was too
occupied trying to deal with the fact he was being raped by his two
cousins, both of whom were, in his opinion, far too young to be having such
knowledge let alone be doing such a thing.
     Bobby slid his bare butt back and forth along Gordie's furry chest,
delighting in the new sensation of having his butt being tickled by course
chest hair, and by the more familiar sensation of having a pair of lips and
a hot, moist mouth tugging on his stiff little pricklet.  Ever since he'd
discovered the pleasure rubbing his butthole and rubbing his penis could
bring three years ago he had pleasured himself almost nightly, but whenever
he had the chance, he much preferred others do it for him.
     Brent eased his cock in and out of his cousin's hot, moist hole.  From
the way it gripped on his little four-inch prober and from its tightness,
he had to assume that Gordie had never had his ass screwed before, and
being the first got the thirteen-year-old all the more aroused.  He had
been horny for most of the day, and finally having an opportunity to
relieve that need with his hapless, captured cousin, he did not waste any
time.  He worked his stiff, hot little cock in and out of Gordie's asshole
rapidly, enjoying the sensations rippling through his cockmeat.  His only
goal was to get himself off.
     Gordie could not believe what was happening to him.  He could not get
over children so young knowing about such things, and even more shocking,
doing such things.  He himself had certainly not known about sex when he
was the age of Bobby, or even Benny, and even at the age of the twins he
had never engaged in any form of sex other than jacking himself while he
thought about girls.  He'd never thought about boys.  He certainly had
never thought about sucking on a little preteener's hot, thin cock, or of
having a naked thirteen-year-old boy fucking his ass.  Both were equally
perverted, but there was nothing that he could do about it.  To his
amazement, he actually was feeling a little excitement and more than a
little pleasure being stuck by two hot boy cocks despite the fact that he
had never considered having sex with another male in all his life.
     Being so horny, it was not long before nine-year-old Bobby was
trembling and groaning with his dry orgasm.  Only seconds after Bobby had
begun, Brent grunted and shoved his hips forward with more force than usual
as he felt his stuff begin to surge up his little cock.  Burying his little
four-inch cocklet up Gordie's asshole, he began to spasm as his juice
squirted deep into the seventeen-year-old's rectum.
     From the responses of the two boys, Gordie knew that they were
climaxing.  Although he knew he should be feeling disgusted having a hot,
throbbing cock deep in his rectum giving him a very unusual enema, and
having a throbbing little boy cock in his mouth, Gordie was instead
beginning to feel the need to get his own balls off.  As his two cousins
finally eased their irritated organs out of his body, he wondered how that
could be.
     Bobby and Brent had no sooner gotten off their cousin than Benny and
Brett advanced with leers and stiff cocks ready.  Gordie looked at one, and
then the other randy Brewster.
     "Oh Gawd, nae mair," sighed the ravished teenager as Benny knelt
behind him and Brett sat on his chest and waved his erect four inches in
his face.  Gordie's cock jerked and ached between his legs, demanding the
same satisfaction as he was about to provide his two cousins.  The four
boys watched his cock jerking wildly for a moment, and then Bobby grabbed
it with his hot little hands and began to jerk it.  Within seconds a clear
droplet of precum oozed from the slit.  Bobby carefully touched the tip of
his cousin's huge cock with the tip of his index finger and scooping up his
precum, smeared it over Benny's knob.
     "A little lubrication to help you brother," he said with a grin as he
raised his finger to his lips and slipped his mouth over the tip to suck it
clean.
     "Hey thanks, bro," said Benny as he prepared to penetrate his
seventeen-year-old cousin.
     "Wait a minute," said Brent.  He took the laces out of Gordie's boots
and tied one tight around the base of the boy's twitching cock, and the
second tight around his nuts.  "We got almost four hours left," he said
with a grin.
     Benny knelt again behind his cousin's hairy ass and took his little
three-inch stiffie in his hand.  His asshole having been penetrated by
Brett's thicker and longer cock and already slick with the teenager's cum,
the seventeen-year-old youth was easily penetrated by his eleven-year- old
cousin.  He grimaced as he felt a desperate ache in his loins and the boy's
hot, slender pricklet slide up his hole.  Never had he had such a need to
ejaculate.  Benny waited as his brother shuffled up to Gordie's face and
guided his four-inch cock into the older boy's mouth.  Gordie knew he had
no choice but to do as was expected of him as he parted his lips.  There
was no doubt in his mind that his perverted little cousins would make him
drink his own urine if he put up an objection.  He was even not so sure
they still wouldn't when they were done.
     As he began to suck on the thirteen-year-old boy's hot, stiff little
cock, he felt Benny begin to pump in and out of his asshole.  The physical
sensation of having the boy's little cock easing in and out of his
cum-slick butthole, and of having the young, slender pricklet of his other
cousin in his mouth, combined with the thought that he was being raped a
second time by his other two cousins caused his own cock to jerk and ache
for release.  The reaction of his body to this mental and physical abuse
was surprising, and disturbing to the teenager.  He was no Nancy-boy, but
there was no question his body was enjoying what was happening to it.  His
full erection was proof.
     Benny humped his cousin with youthful enthusiasm, enjoying the heat
and tightness of the older boy's asshole, and enjoying the slickness
provided by his brother's cum.  He could not wait until he too would be
able to produce the stuff, but for now he was content to enjoy his
brother's.  The feelings passing through his little cocklet and his mind
were awesome, and he could only imagine how much more awesome it must be to
produce cum.  Soon the thoughts and the physical stimulation had the
youngster panting and sighing with his approaching orgasm.
     Brett, on the other hand, knew very well what it was like to cum, and
he squirmed and sighed also as he felt himself approaching that peak.  The
hot moist mouth of his cousin sucking on his boyhood was awesome, and he
ached to reward him with a shot of his sweet boycum.  It was not a long
wait.  He was soon inhaling and exhaling deeply and slowly as he forced
himself to hold back until he could keep back the flood no longer.  With a
mighty cry of pleasure he closed his eyes and trembled uncontrollably as
his juices rose up his cock and squirted into his cousin's mouth.  Gordie
had no choice but to accept the unique offering.
     At the same time Benny began to tremble with his dry orgasm.  With
waves of pleasure rippling through his body, he grasped his cousin's hips
and grunted as he plunged his cock into the teenager's rectum.  Between the
orgasm of his two cousins and the physical stimulation of two throbbing
cocks in his body, Gordie was aching to grab his own dick and bring it
relief.
     "Awright, untie ma perr baws now," he requested as the two boys got
off him.  "Ah need tae come too."
     "Not so fast," said Benny.  "We got to have some fun first."
     The eleven-year-old slowly stroked the stiff, blood-engorged cock as
he leered down at his flushed, sweating cousin.  Gordie bucked his hips and
groaned with the assault on his swollen member.  As his arm got tired,
Benny was replaced by Bobby, and the touch of the nine-year-old's hot
little hand was like an electric shock to the bound boy's irritated shaft.
He ached so badly he was sure his balls were going to rupture, but the boys
were not relenting.  Bobby was eventually replaced by Brett, and the
teenager stroked his older cousin with a slow, steady rhythm, the same
stroke as he used on himself.  It was so hot jerking someone else's cock,
and knowing that the boy was not going to be able to come had Brett slowly
becoming erect again despite the fact he had only recently shot his load.
Finally Brent took over.  The thirteen-year-old found it awesome wrapping
his fingers about the thick, seven-and-a-half inches of hot, throbbing
cock.  Even more awesome was the way his cousin was squirming and panting
with the need to get off.
     Gordie was by then bleating like a sheep and his abused cock was
swollen and red.  The shoelace had caused the boy's cock to stretch even
more than it normally would, and the veins stood out like the veins on a
fat old lady's legs.  When Brent finally let go of it, Gordie's cock jerked
wildly in desperation for relief.  The boys sat back and glanced at each
other and giggled at the sight of their cousin's swollen member jerking
about as if it had a life of it's own.  It took a long time for the
sensations passing through the irritated member to subside and for Gordie's
breath to return to normal.
     "Looks like a giant firecracker don't it?" Brett asked.
     "Hey, I got an idea," announced Brent.
     Gordie was learning to hate that phrase.  After a moment he felt one
of the boys spreading apart his asscheeks and inserting something up his
anus, something short and slender compared to the two cocks that had been
shoved up it.
     "What are ye daein?"
     "Sticking a fire cracker up your ass."
     "Ye cannae dae thit!" the boy cried desperately and with evident fear.
     "Too late, I already did," replied Brent and his brothers snickered.
     Gordie heard the distinctive scrape and snap of a match being lit, and
he smelt the sulphur.  Seconds later he heard a hiss.
     "Gawd!  Boys!  Fir Gawdsake no!  Ye cannae dae this tae me!  Pull it
oot ay ma erse!"
     Seeing Bobby put his hands over his ears, Gordie inhaled deeply and
tensed.  There was a loud bang and he jerked in fright.  To his surprise
his ass didn't feel anything.
     "Really had you going, didn't we?" asked Brent as he held a second
firecracker before Gordie's eyes and lit it.  The other was still up his
ass.  The boys laughed as Brent threw it aside at the last moment and it
went off with a bang.
     "Hey, guys, I'm getting hungry."
     "Me too, let's have that cake."
     "Like we planned on having it?" asked Bobby.
     "Of course."
     "Hey, today is kinda like a birthday, right?" Bobby asked.
     "Yeah, so?"
     "So I got an idea."
     The boys formed a circle and Bobby whispered something and then took
off.  Gordie tensed and wondered what the little hellions were plotting
now.  While Bobby was gone, his brothers cautiously untied Gordie's arms
and then lowered his legs.  Using the ropes still attached to his ankles
and wrists, they then tied him spread-eagled on the ground.  The boys then
retrieved the cake they'd saved and hidden in the bushes along with the
rope.  The twins grinned down at Gordie, and then sat cross-legged on
either side of his groin.  The two naked boys slowly smeared the white,
blue and red icing over Gordie's irritated, jerking cock and then pasted
the sponge cake to it.
     By then Bobby returned with a handful of sparklers.  The two teenagers
had gotten aroused coating Gordie's cock with cake, and after licking off
their fingers, they began to jerk themselves.  Their young balls were soon
pumping out a generous load of teen precum.  Bobby coated the end of one of
the sparklers with Brent's fresh, clear precum while Benny held Gordie's
cock steady with one hand and squeezed the head with the other hand to open
up his peehole.  Brett flipped up a droplet of his precum with his
fingertip and dripped the warm lube directly down the little hole of
Gordie's stiff organ.  Gordie opened and closed his peehole excitedly in
response to the slick wetness, causing the thirteen-year-old's precum to
ooze down his urethra in its desperate attempt to signal the brain it was
expecting a rush of cum from the other direction.  Brett added a second,
and a third drop of his precum to the tip of the seventeen-year-old's
aching cock with the same result.  Then as the three boys held their
Scottish cousin down, Bobby slowly and carefully eased the pre-cum lubed
end of the sparkler into the slicked opening of his dickhead.
     "Oh shag!  Oh shite!  Lads, stop!  Aggh, stop," he screamed as the
sensation of the slender sparkler entering his peehole sent a shiver down
his irritated cock and up his spine.  "Aggh, ma perr stiffer!"
     He had to come so badly and the stimulation of his urethra had him
feeling as if his entire body was going to explode!  The helpless
seventeen-year-old boy inhaled sharply and held his breath as the boys
slowly slipped the sparkler another inch up his peehole.  Lighting it, they
sat back and laughed as Gordie's cake-coated cock jerked and twitched as
the sparkler burnt down almost to the tip of his dick before extinguishing.
     Carefully easing it out, Brent and Brett proceeded to lick and suck
the cake they had smeared on the hapless boy's cock back off.  The attack
of their hot mouths and tongues caused Gordie's bound cock to twitch and
jerk all the more in desperation.  The teens' long blond hair caressed
Gordie's thighs and tickled his stomach as the boys' hot, red tongues began
to lap up the red, blue and white icing.  The two boys slowly played with
their stiff four-inch joy sticks, and as they finally sucked and licked the
last of the cake and icing off their cousin's cock, they shot their second
load of cum over his stomach and along his thighs.  By this time the
seventeen-year-old boy was faint with overstimulation and his cock was as
red as a chili pepper, and felt just as hot.  Feeling their hot, slimy cum
against his skin doubled his need.
     "Oh Gawd, lads, ye huv tae lit me cum now, thair's no doubt aboot it.
The haid ay ma cock is itchin fir a wank n ma perr baws huv nivir ached
this bad in aw ma life."
     "What do you think?" asked Bobby.
     "Well, he has been a cool dude.  I think we should give his balls a
break," observed Benny.
     "Aye, oh aye.  Listen tae ur brar," cried Gordie.
     The boys untied the shoelace about his testicles and while Bobby and
Brent gently stroked his swollen balls, Benny and Bobby smeared their two
pieces of cake over the swollen, irritated cock, causing a copious flow of
clear precum to ooze out of the burning slit and down over the red, blue
and white icing.
     "Oh Gawd, oh fuck," groaned Gordie as he felt his preclimax juices
finally flowing through his cock.  Two good strokes and they'd have him
shooting his stuff.
     He suddenly felt the lace about his testicles again and seconds later
it was drawn tight.
     "Lads, what are ye daein?" he cried in dismay.
     "That was enough," observed Benny.  "Just wanted to relieve the
pressure a bit."
     "And add some moisture to the cake," said Bobby with a grin.  "It was
drying out."  He ran a fingertip over the tip of Gordie's cock, flipping
off the droplet of pre-cum and causing the teenager's cock to ache and
twitch with desperate need.  "Mmmm, good," he said, licking the drop of
clear cum off his finger tip.
     "Lads, ye huv tae untie ma baws.  Ye huv no idea how bad ma cock needs
tae git oaf!  Ah've nivir had a stiffer fir this long!"
     Bobby and Benny grinned at each other, and bending over, ran their
tongues over the boy's turgid knob.  His cock twitched and jerked wildly.
     "Oh shag!  Oh shite!  Untie ma baws n gie me a doss wanking lads.  Ah
dinnae care if ye use yir hands or dae it wi yir mooth!  Ah huv tae cum sae
bad ma baws are gaunny burst fir shair if ye dinnae!"
     "Hey, Gordie, I love the way you talk," said Brent, and the four
brothers laughed.
     As the two preteens continued to lick and suck the cake and icing
coated cock, their two brothers sat back and slowly jerked themselves as
they watched.  As their precum oozed out of their cockslits for still
another time, they flipped it up with their forefingers and slipped the
bitter- sweet treat between their lips.  It was so hot watching their two
horny, preteen brothers slowly clean off the cock they had just finished
cleaning themselves.
     "Wow, that has made me tired," announced Benny as he finally sat back
on his heels and admired Gordie's huge cock, now glistening in the
moonlight with their spittle.
     "Yeah?" asked Brent, knowing his kid brother had something planned.
     "Yeah, I got to sit down," he said, straddling the bound boy and
squatting back above his now totally engorged cock.
     "No, ye cannae dae thit!" screamed Gordie.  "Nae up ur erse!  Ah'm nae
a pooftie Ah telt ye.  Ye cannae dae thit tae me."  He felt the
eleven-year-old's hand wrap about his hot, stiff probe and the boy shuffled
back.  "Lads, dinnae make me dae this.  Nae up ur choc-box!  Nae wioot a
durex!"
     "Sorry, we don't have a durex," said Benny.
     "What's a durex?" asked Bobby.
     "Fucked if I know, but we musn't have one."
     "Gawd, nae!"
     Gordie's pleas were totally ignored and he had no choice but to lie
there helplessly on his back as the slim, eleven-year-old boy slowly sat
back until he felt the tip of his cousin's throbbing cock against his
arsehole.  Opening his arsehole and exhaling deeply as he relaxed, Benny
continued to squat.  The young boy felt the spit coated knob begin to
stretch apart his anus and he strained to accept the thick pole.  He felt
it slip in a bit further and he grunted with the effort and the
pleasure. Slowly his hot little boy ass surrounded the top five inches of
Gordie's hard meat.
     Benny then began to ride on the boy's cock, enjoying the ripples of
stimulation passing up his anus.  He began to fiddle with his stiff little
cock as he worked his butt up and down.  His three brothers laughed and
cheered him on and his cousin gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes with
the new assault on his swollen, irritated manhood.  Benny smiled down at
him as he continued flexing his leg muscles, slowly rising and falling
until the stimulation of his little butthole and the stroking of his
three-inch cock caused him to jerk and tremble with his dry orgasm.  At the
same time Gordie bucked and grunted with his own dry orgasm, being unable
to shoot his cum.
     Benny no sooner got off him than Bobby took his place.  The four
brothers spit up the necessary lubrication and the nine-year-old eagerly
sat down on the huge lubed probe.  In a way the boy's hot, moist hole was
soothing to Gordie's aching, irritated cock now that he'd had a dry orgasm.
As the boy began to work his hips up and down, the pleasure was actually
overwhelming and Gordie could not help but sigh and groan with ecstasy as
the boy's hot, moist hole squeezed and soothed his irritated shaft.  The
pleasure, however, was brief and misleading.  His brain once again sent
messages down to his balls that they were to release their load, and again
his balls replied that they wished that they could.  Before long Gordie was
once again crying out in desperation for the climax he could not achieve as
Bobby's hot boy ass relentless rode up and down his shaft.  Finally the
nine-year-old trembled with his dry orgasm, experiencing the relief that
Gordie could not.
     Gordie was given no break as Brett took his place, sitting on the
boy's irritated, red pecker and riding it like some obscene horse. Having
watched his two brothers reach their orgasms and his young body raging with
teen hormones, the thirteen-year-old boy was within minutes gasping and
groaning with orgasmic pleasure as he squirted his fresh boy cum all over
Gordie's hairy chest.  The feel of the young boy's hot ropes of cum on his
body, and the aroma of his fresh boy cream was too much for the older
teenager.  As Brett got off Gordie began to thrust his body up and down in
desperation like a man gone wild.
     "Hey, look, Brent, the pooftie is so hot he can't wait to get his cock
up your ass," laughed Brett.
     His blond-haired twin eagerly squatted above the thrusting cock, and
Gordie eagerly thrust his cock up the thirteen-year-old's willing asshole.
In his madness he was sure that if the pressure got high enough his balls
would cause the shoestring to snap.  Brent was not objecting and the boy
eagerly rode Gordie's stiff, bucking cock.  Like his twin brother, he was
randy as hell and was soon adding his load to his twin brother's, shooting
so hard some of his young cum even splattered Gordie's face and landed in
his gaping mouth.
     That bitter-sweet taste only accented Gordie's need to come.  By then
his balls were turning blue in their desperate need to release a load of
seed and the veins of his cock were thick, hard ridges.  His cock was numb,
as was his mind, and he lay back limply and enjoyed the simple lack of
stimulation.
     The boys dressed and left him tied there as they slipped away for some
pop and chips.  As he slowly regained his strength and wits, Gordie tried
to struggle out of the ropes, but the boys had learned their knots in Boy
Scouts very well.  It was useless.  The brothers returned forty-five
minutes later, laughing and joking and still full of energy.
     "Half an hour before the fire works!" Brent said, looking at his
watch.
     "Cool."
     "What can we do until then?"
     "Hmmm, got any ideas, Gordie?"
     "Aye.  Ye huv had ur fun, thair's nae doubt aboot thit.  Sae untie ma
baws.  Lit me git oaf a load ay spunk too."
     "Let's get off all together," suggested Brett.
     "Alright," his three brothers agreed.
     "N me too," Gordie pleaded anxiously.
     "Hey of course," said Benny.  "We're gonna have to leave soon."
     "Ye lads are a doss piece ay work, fir shair," Gordie said admiringly
despite what his little cousins had done to him.
     "Doss?"
     "Real," he said after a moment.
     "Cool.  You're a doss dude yourself," observed Benny.
     "Hey, where is that knife?" asked Bobby.
     "Why?"
     "You'll see.  Where is it?"
     "Fucked if I know, I wasn't watching.  Who had it last?"
     "Brent."
     "No way, I gave it to Bobby."
     "And I gave it to Benny."
     "Up yours.  You never gave it to me."
     "Did too."
     "Did not!"
     As the boys bickered, Gordie hoped the little hellions had not lost
it.
  It was a family heirloom.  Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was
soon found.  Bobby whittled the cardboard handle of a tiny two inch by six
inch paper flag down until it was the thickness of the lead of a pencil.
Sitting beside Gordie's hips, he squeezed his peehole open and worked up a
loogie in his mouth.  Bending his head, he drooled his spittle into the
opened peehole and twirled the end of the whittled flag pole in the thick
gob of spittle that ran down the bound boy's knob.  Ever so carefully he
slipped the slimy tip of the handle into Gordie's peehole and began to ease
it up his urethra.
     "Nae," cried Gordie.  "Oh fucking Gawd, dinnae dae thit tae me again.
Oh shag!  Lads, Ah've goat tae git ma baws oaf.  Ye dinnae huv nae idea
what yer daein tae me.  Oh fuck, Bobby, dinnae pit thit doon ma stiffer any
farrrrther!"
     Untying his legs, the boys raised his feet, not over his head this
time but just so his butt was raised high enough to have a log slid under
his back.  Bobby chucked his clothes and sat down under Gordie's raised
butt, his legs straddling the supporting log.  Working up a mouth of
spittle, he held open the boy's already ravished hole and drooled his slime
into the opening.  Then drooling over his index finger, he slipped the
slimy digit up his cousin's hole, causing the boy to groan as the desire to
get off a load grew still stronger.  While Bobby continued to lube up
Gordie's hole with spittle, his brothers quickly chucked their clothes
also.
  Bobby was soon erect, and shuffling into position, he easily stuck his
three-inch woodie up his cousin's asshole.  To Gordie, it did not feel much
different from the boy's finger.
     Seeing his kid brother was connected, Benny straddled Gordie's hairy
chest and began to fiddle with his little cock, quickly getting it erect.
At eleven years of age that was never a problem.  As he shuffled forward,
Gordie willingly opened his lips.  He knew that to resist was useless, and
after all the boys had put him through, resisting now seemed ridiculous.
He slowly began to suck on the boy's hot, narrow little dick, his lips
taking his frustration at not being able to cum out on the youngster's
cocklet.
     The twins sat down on either side of him and began to lick his cock as
they jerked themselves, two matching sets of silky blond hair, two matching
sets of hot, red tongues, two matching sets of curly blond hairs, two
matching sets of four-inch woodies and loosely hanging teenage balls.
Their long hair gently caressed his thighs and hips as the boys ran their
tongues from the shoelace at the base up the heavily veined, engorged shaft
to the fully exposed purplish head.  As their hot, moist tongues ran over
the sensitive ridge of his knob Gordie groaned and tensed with the ripples
of sweet pain that passed through his irritated cock.
     Over the quiet of the evening they heard the announcer.  Fifteen
minutes before the fireworks display.  The boys stopped, allowing
themselves time to savour the pleasures rippling through their stiff little
boy cocks.  Gordie's cock jerked wildly with desire, and the implanted flag
waved in the night air.  The four brothers giggled at the sight. It had
been four hours since they had bound his balls, four hours of stimulation
and being repeatedly brought to the brink of a climax he could not achieve.
He wondered if the boys were going to let him go all the way this time.
     The boys finally began again, Bobby slowly working his slender little
cock in and out of his cousin's hot, moist hole while his cousin sucked on
his brother's little woodie, and his two oldest brothers licked the horny
teen's swollen member.  Bobby watched the twins jerking their stiff little
cocks and wondered when he'd begin to grow hairs like them and to shoot his
stuff.  He imagined it would be awesome.  The announcer announced ten
minutes to go.
     "Oh Gawd, ten mair minutes.  Ah cannae tak this fir another ten
minutes.  Ye goattae stop licking ma cock or Ah'm gaunny gae mad!"
     The twins stopped and once again Gordie obscenely waved the American
flag vigorously as his engorged cock jerked and throbbed like it never had
before in its desperate need for relief.  The four brothers giggled at the
sight.
     "Aggh lads, Ah've nivir had tae come sae badly in ma life.  Ah huv tae
say ye four are doss sex maniacs, n the most skilled Ah've ivir ken."
     "Well, thanks," the boys said in unison.  "And you've been one doss
fun dude."
     "Five minutes."
     The boys resumed their play and delighted in the pleasures they'd come
to know and to seek.  Bobby closed his eyes and sighed with the joy of
having a hot, tight asshole gripping his little woodie.  Benny licked his
lips and groaned with the pleasure of having a hot, moist mouth tugging on
his.  Brent and Brett slowed their strokes and were careful not to over
excite their irritated knobs so that they could come together, and at the
same time they began to lick their cousin's hot, seven-and-a-half inch pole
in slow motion.  Four, three, two, sixty seconds.
     The boys began to speed up now.  Bobby began to thrust his hips to and
fro, driving his little cock in and out of Gordie's asshole as fast as he
could.  As his little pricklet went numb, he knew he was about to climax.
Benny meanwhile was encouraging his Scottish cousin to suck harder on his
throbbing little cocklet and he began to slide his bare bum back and forth
along his cousin's hairy chest as he worked his tingling boy cock in and
out of the teenager's mouth.  Brent and Brett were pumping their fists
madly, working their fingers up and down their stiff little shafts and
squirming with the building pleasure.
     Gordie gasped and groaned, his body and mind raked with four hours of
constant stimulation.  He sucked hard on the little boy cock in his mouth
as another was thrust in and out of his arse.  Gordie's swollen, numb cock
throbbed as the two hot tongues ran up and down the engorged shaft and over
his knob.  The ridge of his cockhead tingled and burned with an irritation
that was beyond description.  The seventeen-year-old's hard little balls
were drawn up tight under his cock and aching with a piercing pain.  With
all the blood centred at his groin, the boy began to pass in and out of
consciousness.
     "Five, four, three, two."  One of the twins cut the laces binding
Gordie's cock and balls with his sgian dhub.  "One, zero!"
     The five boys climaxed together, five hot, perspiring boys trembling
with the most powerful climaxes they'd ever had.  Five boys weak-loined and
loudly gasping for breath, five cocks throbbing and burning with
undescribable pleasure.  Bobby and Benny quivered once again with their dry
orgasms, their little boy cocks throbbing hotly and pleasantly in their
cousin.  Brent and Brett fell on their backs as they shot their fourth load
for the evening, their hot boy cum shooting up in the air and landing on
the grass between their slender, outspread legs.  Gordie cried out and
thrust his hips at the sky as his swollen balls contracted and his hot
spunk shot up the core of his cock, sending the American flag flying
through the air as if shot out of a cannon.
     The night sky was lighted up with a rainbow of colours as burst after
burst of fireworks were shot off in the park.  Squirt after violent squit
shot from Gordie's loins, thick streamers of cum shooting up into the air
out of the madly wagging bone and landing in hot ropes on his chest, on his
thighs, and in his gaping mouth.  Colourful star bursts, whistling bombs,
sparklers and swirls created pattern after pattern in the sky. Shot after
endless shot erupted from Gordie's burning cockhead and his mind spun with
the violent release of his seed and return of blood to his head.  Hot cum
oozed down over his ribs and clung to his teats, hot salty cum dripped from
the corner of his mouth, and rivulets of cum oozed out of his burning
peehole and down over his swollen cock to collect in his dark brown hairs
and to flow down over his tight balls.
     The five boys lie on their backs, their chests heaving and their
bodies flushed with relief, their stiff cocks pointing up at the display in
the sky.  Brent and Brett squeezed their irritated shafts, working out the
last of their sticky boycum and smearing it over their little cocks and
between their fingers and then bringing their fingers to their lips.  Their
two younger brothers glanced at each other and grinned, their eyes clouded
with the bliss of their dry orgasms.  Gordie lay sprawled on his back, his
seven-and-a-half inches of hard meat standing upright and now glowing
pleasantly with the circulation of blood and replenishing of oxygen, his
body and band uniform spotted with puddles of his creamy-white cum.
     The five boys lay on their backs and watched as volley after volley
echoed across the park and flashed across the sky.  As the display ended
and the park fell silent, so did the boy's breaths return to normal.  They
slowly rose and dressed.
     "Well," said Barry Brewster as the five boys joined him and his wife,
"what did you think of the fireworks?"
     "Awesome!"
     "A blast."
     "Yeah, best blast we've ever had," said Brent suggestively as he
glanced at his brothers and up at his cousin.
     "Bone rattling," said Benny.
     "Definitely bone rattling," agreed Brett.
     "Oh yeah," agreed their two brothers.
     "Gordie?"
     Gordie looked at the boys' father in a daze, his hair tousled and
straggly, his Prince Charlie jacket open and his vest buttoned incorrectly.
The inside of his kilt was spotted with wet stains, cold streamers of cum
were sticking his clothes to his body, and his cock and arse were still
burning with a dull sweet pain.
     "Wis the grrrrrandest ivir, nae doubt aboot it," he replied with a
sigh and more than a hint of exhaustion in his voice.  "It wis fir shair
the best Ah've ivir had.  Ahhh, the best Ah've ivir seen thit is."  Gordie
glanced down at his four little cousins. "N Ah think thair's gaunny be a
loat mair barry days ahaid."
     "You bet cuz," the four Brewster brothers agreed with happy smiles as
they crowded around their third cousin and gave him a group hug.
     "Well, one thing's fir shair," said Bobby as they headed for the
parking lot, "our fireworks were a doss blast, n Ah cannae think thair
coulda been a grrrrrander end tae a mair perfect day!"
     Barry Brewster tousled his young son's hair and the Brewster clan and
their Scottish cousin laughed merrily as they piled into the station wagon
and headed home.