Date: Sun, 23 Sep 2012 09:30:50 +0100
From: Rob Armstrong <robarmstrong26@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Spike's Piercing Parlour, Part Six: The Doctor Will Do You Now

SPIKE'S PIERCING PARLOUR, PART SIX:  THE DOCTOR WILL DO YOU NOW

THIS STORY CONTAINS THEMES OF INCEST BETWEEN A FATHER AND HIS 18 YR OLD
SON, WATERSPORTS AND DOMINATION.  THESE CHARACTERS EXIST IN AN AIDS FREE,
CONSEQUENCE FREE, FANTASY PARALLEL UNIVERSE AND ARE NOT TO BE EMULATED.

PLEASE SUPPORT NIFTY WITH YOUR DONATIONS AND KEEP THIS INCREDIBLE RESOURCE
GOING.


    (PHONE RINGS)

    'Mmmmmmnnnnfff... erm... yeah, hello?

    'Hey son, just calling to say I'm gonna be late for dinner.'

    'Mmmmmnffff... thlurrrp.... Hm? Oh, okay, that's cool dad...
gnnnfff...'

    (SOUNDS OF ANOTHER MAN GRUNTING IN THE ROOM)

    'Sonnn...?  Watcha doinnnn...?'

    'Gggggrnnntt.... oink... Sorry, Dad, I got distracted, Mr Ortiz has a
real tasty ass.... mmmmmnnnfffff.... thluuuuurp... thluuuuurp...'

    'Mr Oriz, the super?  Okay, that's weird... (CONTENTED SIGH)

    'Nghhhhh... why weird, Dad?.... snnnnnfff...'

    'Well I just so happen to be... ahhhhh... pissing up his grandson at
this very moment down here in the boiler room... ahhh yeahhhh....'

    'Thluuuurp... you are?  Mmmm, that's hot, Dad, nasty...'

    'YEAH it is... but not as hot as his HOT gangsta ass!  Ask Mr Ortiz if
ya don't believe me.  (SPEAKS TO SOMEONE IN THE BOILER ROOM) Yeah, hold all
that hot daddy piss in there, chico, I'm talkin' here... Huh?
    Well then go ask ya uncle Julio to suck it all out fuh ya, he don' need
untyin' fuh that!  (BACK INTO PHONE) Anyways, I'll let ya go, son - jus'
wanted ta say Spike's put us onta an ol' buddy from the unit, thinks he may
be able to help us with Hallowe'en.'

    (NO REPLY)

    'Son?  Son, ya still there?'

    'Mmmmmmm... yeahhh.... sluuurp... gaaaaargle... gulp, gulp...'

    'Tsk!  Fuckin' kids! (TO SOMEONE IN THE BOILER ROOM) Hey, chico, I got
a better idea.  Stradle ya father instead an' fuckin' shower him with it.
No... not like that, lemme come show ya...

    (CALL ENDS)




	The old army buddy who Spike had recommended had offices in a
swanky piece of real estate overlooking Central Park.

	Thor and Clay stood looking up at it from the sidewalk.

	'Well whaddya know,' exclaimed Thor, 'Ol' Doc Schultz done real
well fuh himself.'

	Clay studied the plate on the wall.  'Well, if he's a doctor...'

	Thor snorted.  'He ain't no DOCTOR!  Guy was a mechanic in the
unit.  But we use ta call him 'Doc' on account of he's also a frickin'
genius.  An untrained, honest-ta-God, certifiable, scientific fuckin'
genius!  He's the one pimped up Spike's baber chair, the bathtub, and a
whole buncha other stuff besides.'

	Clay tapped the plate.  'Says here he's a doctor.'

	'Yeah, well he's also a frickin' shyster.  But did I mention he's a
genius?'



	Upstairs they found their way to Schultz's clinic at the front of
the building.  They were greeted by a starched receptionist with an equally
starched smile.  She took in their punkish, blue-collar appearance and hid
her distaste poorly, as she showed them into 'Doctor' Schultz's office
where she left them to wait.

	An inner door opened and Schultz entered, a great big bear of a man
with gorgeous white streaks in his beard and salt and pepper everything
else.

	'Schultz, you ol' fuck!' cried Thor as he rose to meet him, 'Look
at you in a fuckin' suit!'

	'Larsen, you manwhore!  Is that a Mohawk?  You look like a
cumslut's wet dream!'

	The two clashed in a tight embrace and frenched deeply.  After a
minute Thor leaned out, though still keeping his crotch jammed up agaist
the other man's.

	'Doc, this here's my boy, Clay.'

	Doc's eyes nearly fell out of his head when Clay came over to join
them.  'Christ, boy, it's like looking at your daddy the day I smashed his
cherry...'

	He immediately swept Clay up into their embrace and thrust his
tongue in his mouth.  He moaned when Clay nearly sucked it out of his head
for him.  Somehow Doc managed to slip a hand down the back of both their
tight jeans and work a finger up each of their holes.

	For several minutes every man seemed to be humping the leg of the
man next to him.  There was a muted lowing as tongues sought tongues in
various combinations and everyone got a taste of Doc's most recent cigar.

	'Nung... nuanngg...' Thor began to hack and spit, 'Son, I got a
fleck of Doc's cigar on my tongue... lick it off for me, wouldja?'

	And THAT started a game where Doc would drool slowly into Clay's
open mouth and then Thor would have to felch it out again.  And so on and
so on...

	A buzz from reception put a halt to the fun.

	'Shit,' said Doc, wiping Thor's saliva from his beard with the back
of a paw, 'That'll be the Collins family, my last gig of the day.'.

	Thor inserted a finger up Clay's ass, next to Doc's.  'We can stay
in here till ya finished and then discuss Spike's plans after.'  He started
working his son's hole.  'I'm sure me an' the boy can figure out sumthin'
to pass the time...'

	But Doc shook his head. 'Matter of fact the whole point of the
Collins' visit is to give you two a demonstration of something I been
working on - something that might come in mighty handy at Hallowe'en...'

	He led the two of them thru that inner door and into a dark, narrow
anteroom that looked onto the treatment room proper through a floor to
ceiling two-way mirror.  He switched his suit jacket for a long white
doctor's coat, which concealed the obvious bulge in his pants.

	'You can observe unseen in here,' said Doc, rapping the glass with
a knuckle, 'But the place isn't soundproof, so you're going to have to keep
it down.'  He indicated a leather couch on the back wall.  'Why don't you
both take your clothes off and get comfortable till we're ready for you.'

	'How we going to know when that is?' asked Clay.

	Doc grinned wickedly and licked him up one long, blond sideburn.

	'Oh trust me, kid, you'll know.'

	The treatment room itself looked like any other of its kind in such
a high-class, society clinic as this one - large and plush, with anatomical
diagrams on the wall and a big old treatment table by the shaded window.

	In moments Clay and his Dad were snuggling naked on the couch,
watching thru the glass as Schultz put one or two finishing touches to the
room, adjusting the paper lining on the treatment table, and so on.

	Then Doc hung a stethoscope round his neck and buzzed the intercom.
The starchy receptionist, already in her street clothes, led in the Collins
family.

	'Thank you, Catherine,' said Schultz, 'you can head off home for
the day now.  Just be sure to lock up on your way out.'

	And she was gone.

	Doc ushered his clients into chairs.  'Yes, I'm afraid I too must
be on my way shortly this evening,' he explained to them, 'Dinner with the
governor, you see.'

	Mr Collins was a nice-looking man with dark red hair.  He nodded,
looking suitably impressed.  In fact he and his sons seemed a little
intimidated and out of place in such high-end surroundings.

	'It's very good of you to see us at all, Dr
Schultz... but... erm... I'm sure Coach Rogers explained that this isn't a
place we could normally afford to...'

	Doc waved his concern away, 'Don't trouble yourself on that score,
Mr Collins - a little Pro Bono work is a moral obligation for any society
practice like this.'

	In hiding Thor snickered softly into his son's ear.

	'Pro BONER, more like.'

	'Coach Rogers...' put in Clay, trying to remember, 'isn't that...'

	'PigMaster2in1,' Dad supplied, 'Yup, that's him.'

	Schultz was checking thru the paperwork.  'So, today we're doing
senior year sports physicals for Mason and... Mitchel, is that right?

	The two boys nodded.  They were twins, seniors like Clay, with the
same dark red hair as their father.  Though their features were virtually
identical, their bodies reflected their chosen sports.

	Mitch, a swimmer, had a lithe form made for knifing through
water. His hair was a tight crew cut and he wore a sexy, narrow chin beard
that neatly followed the line of his jaw and up into his hairline.  His
eyes were sharp and clever.

	Mason was the wrestler, his body bulkier.  His hair was a little
shaggier and his face was dusted with untidy, two-day old stubble.  The
expression on his face was a little more dopy.

	The paperwork in order, Mr Collins rose to leave the room, taking
Mason with him.

	'Ah, not so fast please, Mr Collins,' Doc forestalled him, 'Time
being of the essence, I'm afraid I'm going to have to conduct the boys'
examinations both at he same time - if that's okay with all of you.'

	The Collins men all shifted uneasily.  This was clearly not a
family comfortable around nudity.

	'This visit being Pro Bono,' Schultz added, 'it's unlikely I'd be
able to reschedule.'

	Mr Collins nodded reluctantly and made for the door alone.  'Okay,
boys, do whatever the doctor tells you.'

	But Doc had him there as well.  'I'm afraid I'll need you present
also, Mr Collins, should any family history queries arise.'

	Cornered, Colins had no choice but to comply and he sat again.

	Making a real show of having only limited time, Doc charged through
the duller preliminary tests, such as eye dilation, lung capacity and
reflexes.

	In the anteroom Thor nudged Clay.  The real fun was about to begin.

	'Now we come to the... ah... more delicate tests in the programme,'
Scultz announced, 'Commencing with the hernia exam.  I'm going to need you
both to strip down.  As I can see that neither of you is altogether
comfortable with this arrangement, I can at least allow you to keep your
underwear on.'

	In the darkness, Thor and Clay looked at each other.  How was that
going to work?

	The twins huffed in relief that they wouldn't yet be required to
get all-the-way naked.  They stripped down to reveal pale, creamy flesh
that was stretched taut over good muscle definition, in Mitch's case, and
huskier mass in Mason's.  They now wore only dollar ninety-nine plaid
boxers that looked as if they came from some K-Mart wannabe outlet.

	Mitch's boxers were neat and clean - Mason's looked stained and
crumpled, as if he hadn't changed them in a week, earning him a glare from
his father.  He would be in trouble for that later on.

	'Now simply reach in thru your fly and withdraw your genitals for
my inspection,' Doc instructed.

	Clay nudged his father.  THAT was how.

	A moment later, two sets of identical, floppy tubesteak and balls
glistened pinkly against the contrasting backround of plaid cotton.

	Clay marveled at Schultz's cleverness - in a show of concern for
their modesty, he had caused the twins to expose themselves to each other -
and their father - far more lewdly than if they had simply whipped down
their drawers.  As it was, they may as well have mounted their junk on
plaid backing and displayed it in an art gallery down in Soho.

	Doc donned a pair of latex gloves and crouched before each boy,
moving back and forth between them, palpating this one, patting that,
turning ball sacks and lifting flacid penises with clinical detachment.

	Then he settled back on his haunches and said, 'Hmmmm...'

	Collins was on his feet, immediately concerned.

	'Anything wrong, Doc?'

	Doc stroked his beard.  'Difficult to say.  In cases like this it's
always best to reference the souce DNA...'

	Collins latched onto it in a heartbeat.  'In cases like this?'

	Schultz nodded.  'I'm talking about parental DNA comparison.  I'm
afraid I'm going to need to examine you also, Mr Collins, in order to
determine if what I'm seeing is merely a congenital trend or something more
sinister.'

	Collins was completely out of his depth.  'You need to examine me?
But...'

	Schultz checked his watch impatiently.  'Please, Mr Collins, I
wasn't expecting to hit a speed-bump like this - my dinner with the
governor...'

	Collins was a good father and his concern for his boys overcame any
squeamishness about getting naked in front of them.

	'Yes, yes of course.'

	Aroused by what a master manipulator Doc proved to be, Thor and
Clay secretly began jacking each other's dicks.

	In moments Mr Collins was in an identical position to his boys.
His own more mature equipment dangled for all to see through the fly of
another pair of those plaid boxer shorts.  There they all stood now, the
Collins family, dicks out, on display for each other.

	Collins' face burned with the humiliation of his predicament.

	His sons' eyes were riveted to the hefty sheath of foreskin that
hung over their father's cock.

	'I see you're uncircumsized, Mr Collins.'

	Collins nodded awkwardly.  'My wife thought ... our boys... cleaner
if...'

	Doc knelt to examine him.  He fondled Colins' dick for a spell,
right where his boys could see him, before drawing back the foreskin to
reveal the spongy head, frosted with dried cock-cheese.

	'You know, Mr Collins,' intoned Doc, 'you really ought to take
better care of your personal hygiene.'

	Collins face burned brighter still.

	Schultz spread his hand wide, bringing the V between his thumb and
fingers up tightly under Mr Collins' balls.  Then he circled his fingers
loosely around the base of his dick... and jiggled the man's equipment up
and down.

	Poor Collins' dick lolloped about obscenely in full view of his
sons.  Then Doc turned his attention to their equipment and gave them the
same treatment.

	Jiggle jiggle jiggle.  Flip flop flippety flop.

	By the time he had finished nobody's dick was completely flacid
anymore.  There were stirrings as if a platoon were rousing from sleep.

	'Have you got all you need?' asked Collins desperately.

	'Almost, but to be absolutely certain there's one more test I need
to carry out...  Now fellas, I need you to hop up on the examination table
and kneel facing the window.  You can leave your dick and balls sticking
out but lower the back of your boxers so I can get at your asses.'

	Were Thor and Clay really the only ones who noticed that Schultz's
vernacular had slipped and become less clinical?

	The twins leaned forward, kneeling side by side on the table, their
naked outthrust asses made all the more whorish by their only semi-nude
state.

	'You're going to need to relax, boys,' Doc warned, as he applied a
milky looking oil to his forefingers from a nearby bottle, 'I have to
insert a finger up your backsides to check your prostates.'

	The twins were alarmed, but their father, standing at the back with
his dick still pulled out through his boxers, assured them that this was
indeed standard procedure for an adult male medical.

	Though that didn't stop his dickhead emerging from beneath its
hood...

	Schultz poked a long bony finger at each of their rosebuds. Then he
penetrated both their holes simultaneously and slid his digits deep up
inside.  The boys cried out in tandem at the intrusion.

	Doc held his fingers in place, letting them get used to the
sensation.  Then he began a slow in and out movement, making sure to put
pressure on their joy spots each time his fingers glided over them.

	'Mmmmm...'

	Mitch.

	'Nnnnghh...'

	Mason.

	After a while Doc began to take his probing into more circular
patterns, widening out in larger and larger arcs, stretching those two
virgin cunts.

	Mason and Mitchel were openly groaning now.

	Collins gave a start.  'Are you okay, boys...?'

	'Okay... nghhh... Dad...' managed Mitch.

	The boy began rocking his ass against Doc's finger, as did his
brother.  From his vantage point, Clay could see that their father's dick
was nodding like a rasta at a reggae concert.

	'Actually, Mr Collins,' said Doc, 'I could use your assistance.'

	Collins stepped forward and Doc indicated the bottle of lube.

	'Could you place a little more oil on my finger, please?' Schultz
requested.  Without noticing his rising member, Collins complied, heaping a
generous amount onto the Doc's gloved digit and practically jacking it with
his hand.

	'Good,' said Doc, 'Now I need you to climb up onto the table next
to your sons.'

	Collins looked at him aghast.  'You surely don't mean...'

	'The lube is for you, Mr Collins,' said Schultz implacably,
'parental DNA comparison.'

	Collins dick flexed to semi-hard.  Moments later he knelt beside
Mitch on the table, boxers down, ass out, getting royally fingered by an
ex-marine mechanic who didn't hold so much as a masseur's license.

	Clay crawled forward on the couch to get a better view of the
obsencely displayed Collins family, their three naked asses presented in a
row.  They looked like a pornographic version of the three wise monkeys -
Eat My Ass, Spank My Ass and Fuck My Ass.

	And sure enough, up front their three dicks were all rampantly
hard, dripping down onto the paper lining, the father's actively bobbing up
and down in excitement.  Clay's own dick began to leak and jock juice
spitter spattered down onto the leather upholstery as his father took
advantage and started to eat his hole.

	'Unghhh...' moaned Collins, 'Is this really
normal... ooof... procedure?  Are you getting any.... ahhhh... clearer on
the problem?'

	'You know it's hard to say,' opined Doc, 'I mean, inside your sons'
holes I can feel one thing, but yours... Well, see for yourself.'

	And with that Doc took Collins completely by surprise - he ripped
his finger out of Collins, grabbed the man's own forefinger and shoved it,
unlubed, right up his hole.

	Collins sat bolt upright, his finger jammed in his own ass.

	'Fuccccck....!'

	Not a word he would normally utter in front of his sons.

	But Doc just pushed him back down again and slapped that ass.  'You
see?  It ain't so obvious, is it?  Now compare with Mitchel's...'

	And next thing he whipped the man's finger out of his ass again and
shoved the dirty thing up the hole of his adjacent son instead.

	Mitch cried out... in a gooood way...

	'What kind of doctor are you?' bellowed Collins in a fury, 'Oh, you
fucking deviant bastard...'

	But he didn't remove his finger from his boy's cunt.  Quite the
opposite - when Doc shoved now TWO fingers back up Collins' hole, the
father followed his example and did the same to Mitch.

	The assault on Mason's hole had never really let up, so he barely
notcied the additional insertion of Schultz's index finger alongside the
first.  Now each member of the family was getting thoroughly frigged and
the head of the household was doing nothing whatever to prevent it.

	Finally Doc acknowledged his accomplices in the anteroom and
indicated they should join him with a toss of his head.

	The Larsens emerged, their own dicks hard and dripping.  Excited by
Doc's manipulations, they had been playing with their nips, which were now
aimed and ready to fire.

	Thor looked in astonishment at the Collins family.  Mitch and his
father had begun frenching and Mason was lowing like a herd of cattle.  One
moment they had been as apple-pie as the Waltons, now they were writhing on
penetrating fingers and behaving like regulars at an orgy in Sodom.

	'Oh don't worry about them,' Schultz told Thor, 'they're barely
aware of you.  All they can think about is the fingers in their chutes.'

	Clay pointed to the bottle.  'It's in the lube, isn't it?  Whatever
you've given them.'

	Schultz nodded.  'Smart boy.  My own special formula.  It's a
herbal aphrodisiac, weapons grade.  Same effects as poppers, except without
the headrush and it can last up to a week.  I've been doing a lot of work
with the Pentagon.  They give me funding...'  He grinned.  'I provide the
genius.'

	But Thor was sceptical.  'The government wants to turn straight men
into cumsluts?'  Even so, that didn't stop him from pulling his son into
his furry body and dry humping his warm trench.

	'How many times, Thor,' said Doc, 'You can't turn men gay.  But you
can bring out what's lain dormant deep inside.  This stuff is absorbed
fastest into the bloodstream thru the mucous membrane - the skin tissue
that lines the ass.  But it also lines the nostrils.  Imagine what effect
this stuff would have, delivered thru the air con in a sex dungeon...'

	The implication hit Thor full on.  'Hol-ee shee-hut!'

	Clay ground his ass back into his dard's hot, hard weapon.

	Doc grinned.  'I think Spike will be pleased with the results, yes?
No let's cut the crap.'  He indicated his trapped fingers. 'You two lube up
and take over here so I can get undressed.'

	Clay eyed Schultz's oil.  'Won't we get super-horny?'

	Doc raised an eyebrow.  'Ain'tcha already?'

	Clay shrugged.  'Good point.  I guess that makes us immune.'

	Up close, Mitch Collins smelled of soap, Mason as if he hadn't
showered for days, and their father somewhere in between.

	Intinctively Clay made a beeline for Collins ass and Thor took over
Mason.  He leaned in an took a deep sniff of the boy's hole.

	'Mmmmm...' murmured Thor in appreciation, 'Gamey...'

	He plunged his fingers straight in and got drilling.

	Meanwhile Doc stripped off his outer clothes, dropping his
expensive suit carelessly in a corner.  Underneath he was hairy as a goat,
with lush, exaggerated nipples that had seen long hours with suction cups
and were now linked together by a silver chain.

	He wore the leather straps of a master's harness and a pair of
black leather briefs with a large hole cut in the crotch, allowing his
elegant cobra to rear up and drip venom down onto the shaved eggsack which
dangled beneath.

	He donned a leather cap and lit a new stogie, the very definition
of a gorgeous leather ringmaster, calling out commands and suggestions to
his circus of sex-freaks.

	'Thor, rip off Mason's boxers... yeah, they're pretty funky,
enjoy...  Wow, still damp at the front, huh?  Okay, now shove them in
between Dad and Mitch...  Let them get a good hit of that dried-piss
stink...'

	'Mmmmmnf...!'  Collins sounded weakly indignant, 'Good Christ, that
reeks, get it out of my... Mitch, what are you DOING?  Take that underwear
out of your... No, don't shove it in my face... snffff... oh that's
gro... snffff... ugh!  Ugh!  Ugnhhhh... snfffff... mmmmm...'

	Suddenly father and son were like two dogs fihting over a bone.

	'Yeahhh... thought they'd go for that.  Hey, Mitch - why don't you
eat out your brother's raunchy hole, I'll bet it's tasty... Collins, you do
the same to Mitch...  Yeahhh man, you're a natural... DRILL that daddy
tongue up your son's hole, yeahhh!  Hey Clay, look at those long tongue
strokes up and down his son's trench... betcha you'd like that kinda
treatment from your own dad, huh?

	'Okay, trufle pigs, let's take this to the floor, get a proper rim
chain going.  Collins, you keep your tongue up Mitch and Mitch up your
brother... Thaaaat's it... goooood boys... GOOOOD boys... Say, Clay, I seen
you eyeing Collins' hole, go for it, get your mouth on that ass... How is
it?  ... Yeahhh, had a feeling Mason took after his old man...

	'Thor, eat out your boy, you know that's where your tongue belongs.
Anyways, it's been too long since I tasted your hot hole, my man.  Mason,
you ain't averse to a bit of manstink - here's my hairy crack.  Get your
tongue in there and get to work! .... Ohhhh yeahhh...'

	And on and on it went, into the evening.  Schultz and the Larsens
devised depravity after depravity to visit upon the formerly conservative,
buttoned up Collins family.

	And no matter what they commanded, no matter how much the Collins
blushed with shame, they meekly performed every lewd and filthy act with
hard dicks and willing assholes.

	Following the rim chain, Collins had tit clamps applied to his
previously virgin nipples.  As Doc screwed them down tight, the man cried
out in pain but pushed out his chest to display them.  Then Schultz
commanded him to clamp his sons' nipples as well.  Knowing firshand the
delicious torment, he neverheless obeyed and securely clamped the twins.

	Fun with a speculum came next.  All the family had to take the cold
metal probe up their holes.  Again Collins was the most humiliated as he
turned out to have the most flexible ass.  Doc encouraged his sons to push
and probe and crank the instrument ever wider to stretch open his cunt.

	As punishment for having the sluttiest hole, Collins was dragged
round the room on all fours by the chain on his nipple clamps, forced to
wear Mason's skanky boxers and suck off every man in the room.

	Mason disgraced himself by disobeying orders and cumming all over
his father's face.  That earned him the forfeit of licking clean first the
floor and then his dad.

	Son and father murmured lustily as Mason fed his dad his load.

	Finaly Schultz piled everyone into the large shower stall en suite
to his office.  The twins were made to kneel on the tiled floor, offering
their asses to Thor and Doc.  The two husky daddies took the boys' cherries
with little resistance after all the ass play.

	Then they knelt back, bringing the boys with them until they were
sitting on their laps, dicks still lodged deep.

	Identical twin cocks were pressed together in the centre, piss tube
throbbing hard against piss tube.  And down over this was lowered their
father's hole.  Collins gritted his teeth as Clay assisted him into
position, impaling himself on the twin dicks of his boys, but that flexible
cunt endured the double penetration.

	'Grrrrnnnnn....' he grunted...

	And so a fuck pyramid was formed, with Doc and Thor at the base,
the twins next, topped off by their father.  At the very top Clay took
Collins deep in his throat to take his mind off his tortured tits and
destroyed ass.

	The complex rhythmic movements took a while to establish, but
eventually everyone was working in unison.  The stall was filled with the
sound of incestuous moaning and groaning.

	'Whoaaa... unghhh... awwww... ungh ungh ungh ungh...!'

	Collins grunted in morse code as his sons ravaged his cunt.  The
boys in turn revelled the feeling of their slick cocks jammed up against
each other, sliding deliciously skin against skin, in the superheated,
moist tunnel of their dad's chute... and their own holes being ploughed by
the magnificent dicking from the older studs below them...

	Clay divided his time equally between Collins' dick and frenching
every other man there.  Vocal noises were matched by the various slippery
wet sounds of flesh on flesh... slapping... smacking... squelching... and
the regular thwack, thwack, thwack of good hard sodomy.

	The twins were the first to blow, and they injected their father
with a double dose of his own DNA, two generations removed.

	Their clenching holes triggered the Doc and Thor, each sending rope
after rope up into their young partner.  Clay burst in Collins' mouth which
set off his own orgasm in turn.

	And then it was all done bar the pissing.  The neat arrangement of
the pyramid fell apart in the wet chaos that ensued.  With piss flowing
freely from every dick, naked bodies writhed and slid against one another
as the base of the shower filled up with hot yellow man fluids, until it
was impossible to say who was frenching who or where one body began and
another ended.

	It wasn't quite the piss-tub at Spike's, but it was close...




	The next time Clay saw the Collins family was during the Master and
Hound Night down in the dungeons.  He wasn't sure at first, but wasn't that
Coach Rogers, aka PigMaster2in1, leading around three very familiar
red-heads on dog leashes?

	Their asses wiggled as they travelled on all fours, clad in what
looked like obscenely cut-down plaid boxer briefs, rampant dicks thrusting
thru the flies.  Each had a perky rubber hound tail springing up from a
deeply implanted butt-plug.

	Ocasionally the young husky one would attempt to stray and mount
another master's doggie.  Rogers would apologise to the other master and
they would then decide if the breeding should be allowed to go ahead.

	More often than not, however, the two younger whelps would breed
the older hound, who would lie there, red-faced but humping back with
enthusiasm and a lolling tongue...

	Clay found his father and Thor in the wet bar.  A group of men
stood pissing at the urinal, showering Mr Ortiz's two sons and grandson who
happened to be chained there, sitting side by side in the trough.  The
urine gleamed on their tanned, heavily tattooed bodies, highlighting the
grandson's lithe muscled contours.

	Uncle Julio would now and again turn to his brother Pedro, or Pedro
to his son, and exchange mouthfuls of strangers' piss. Julio favored
spraying the other two with a spitstream, but Pedro alway shared his with
Junior in a sloppy fatherly kiss...

	Thor turned to his buddy.  'Well?'

	Spike nodded happily.  'We're gettin' there, bro, we're gettin
there.  And come Hallowe'en, Doc's formula is gonna turn this place inside
fuckin' out!'

	'And you know...' put in Clay, 'Seeing Coach Rogers here tonight
has given me an idea how we could turn Doc's formula to maximum
advantage...'

	The two older men turned to him intrigued.

	'What's the plan, boy?' Spike demanded.

	Clay leaned in close and grinned wickedly.

	'Well, what I was thinking was THIS...'



	END OF PART SIX