O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Brady Cannon’s Unexpected Medical Exam: Babysitting Can Be Dangerous (bt nc)

by Glaucon55

Brady Cannon was what you would expect from a Southern California teenager; Pooka shells, leather ankle bracelet, tan and tall for his age. His parents had moved to San Diego from Texas when he was three, and he had grown up in the beach front community atmosphere where his blond pageboy haircut and long, lean limbs were perfectly at home. One of the girl’s in his fifth grade catechism class had given him a Pooka shell necklace that almost made him look as pretty as a girl when he wore them, except for his big, gangly body. In spite of only being fourteen and a half, his arms and legs were already nicely furred which complemented his leather ankle bracelet and flip flops that made him hunky eye candy for the girls at the nearby Catholic girl’s school who came to watch the middle school boy’s athletic contests.

He was tall for his age almost 6”, reflecting the fact that his Dad was 6’ 5” tall. Everyone said he was going to be a tall kid, a basketball player in high school and now just waiting to come of age. He certainly knew how to handle the ‘rock’ on his middle-school league team where he was the leading scorer for his. His size eleven feet were the envy and curiosity of other boys. Size means everything to teenage boys, and the length and thickness of Brady’s toes seemed to catch indirect glances from the guys in the lockerroom and from people on the streets when he was barefoot or in flips. Brady loved his skateboard and surfing, so for him basketball was just a diversion, another way to get his overactive hormones under control and hang out with the guys.

Like lots of other All-American boys, Brady rubbed his seven inch boy bone at least every other day, lovingly fisting its bulbous head and teasing the taut stretch of skin at his circumcision scar up to his protruding piss lips and long trench of his deep pisswell. His shaft was slender at the base, but flared and curved toward his stomach as it approached the knob, and the fat head made his prick look like a kind of baseball bat. But his masturbation was in part a concession to his sweaty teenage ball sack that seemed perpetually full of spunk. Truth be known, though Brady was low-key almost shy, barely raising his long eyelashes and eyes when talking with girls, and keeping his deep voice barely audible around them, even though he was helplessly horny. He just wanted to be one of the guys, never too brash but not intimidated by other boys his age, and at night in bed, his cock knob tingled and ached, seemingly getting erect randomly and often. He had learned to jerk his big boy prick when he was twelve and already sporting five stiff inches, grinding it into his bed until he had his first dry cum and his first wet one. He went to a scout jamboree camp, and in his cabin the fourteen year old who seemed so mature to the other boys showed them all how to spank the monkey after lights were out, and they were under a sheet with a flash-light. The boys all marveled at his huge teenage boner, leaking copious amounts of clear boy sap as he slid his fist up the shaft and over the sensitive head. As he showed them, he had to lie back down, close his eyes, and curl his long toes under as he mauled his bloated prick head. When he finally shot his load, the wads of thick teen spooge covered his chest and fist making the make-shift indoor tent they had created reek of his starchy juice. By the end of the week long camp, each of the boys in the cabin, from eleven to thirteen, had given a performance at night under the sheet, exposing their hard boy prongs and rubbing them into submission for the others to watch, wide-eyed and with throbbing pricklets. Brady shyly joined them, and shot his thick load as the boys stared at his long toes curling and stretching each time his fist slid over his fat, sticky dick knob.

But after that experience, Brady had been private about his sexual satisfaction, curious like other boys about the supposed exploits of his friends and rumors about loose girls. But he was too shy to talk about it much, and embarrassed by his spontaneous erections during the day, his piss hardons in the morning, and his wet dreams on occasions at night. A good Catholic boy, having attended both St. Leo’s elementary school and finishing his last year at Saint Augustine’s Middle School, he allowed his appropriate degree of guilt to prevent him from profligate masturbation so he would not have to lie to the Priest at confession. In spite of his constant horniness, he was almost up to three days a week between his cums, refraining from rubbing his penis except against his pajamas and the sheets in bed without the ejaculation he desperately craved.

This summer had been long lazy days at the skate park, basketball games twice a week, and lots of time at the beach flexing his long, thick toes in the sand. But toward the end of July, a new family had moved in next door. The people were from Georgia, and they had two boys, one ten and one eleven, who were infectious and fun-loving, making friends with the local kids. Brady had met them at a neighborhood welcome barbeque, but that was about it. After all, Brady was a teenager on his way to high school, and the Jeffries boys were still just kids and they weren’t girls, so he hardly noticed them. But these kids were a lot more savvy than people knew, and in some ways they were more sophisticated than most of the kids in the neighborhood, including Brady.

Jake and Jemmy had only become the sons of James Jeffries for a little more than a year. Their mother had divorced their real father, but the boys had grown up with their father and his family. Their father had been a good ole boy from Southern Georgia, and his family was blue collar folk. The boys often spent summer vacations with their father’s family, and their cousins in the rural countryside. There they learned many activities that their current father and his upscale Atlanta family would never have imagined. From the time the boys were five and six, their cousins taught them about sex and fucking and jerking. Their boy boners were teased and tickled in night-time games in bed with their cousins, and they learned about dry cums from many a night when slick hands slipped up and down their firm pricklets. For some reason, when they saw the tall, lanky blond boy next door, they set their sights on him. At ten and eleven, they wanted to continue the games that their cousins had taught them…but this time, on their own terms.

The second week of August, Mr. and Mrs. Jeffries were invited to a reception for Mr. Jeffries at the home of his new boss. The event started in the mid-afternoon, but would last well into the evening. While Jemmy was eleven and probably old enough to be responsible for him and his brother, Mrs. Jeffries was uncomfortable leaving the boys alone in a new community, so far from relatives and family friends. Jemmy, always thinking, gave his mother a helpful suggestion. “Why not ask the neighbor kid, he’s fourteen, and we could all play video games and stuff.” Mrs. Jeffries liked the suggestion and asked Mrs. Cannon if she would prevail on her son to assist them. She offered to pay $45.00 for the duty, and so Brady shrugged his shoulders and said sure, why not. It was just for one Saturday afternoon and late into the evening…no big deal.

The night of the reception, after the Jeffries left, the boys continued their video games and Brady humored Jake and Jemmy since there was not that much to do. The San Diego Padres had been out of the pennant race since the beginning of the season, so watching baseball was out of the question. And after all, winning games against younger competition was at least practice for video games with his buddies. But Jake and Jemmy were also humoring Brady. They had plans for their hunky neighbor, and he had no idea.

After ordering delivery pizza, and paying with the money Mrs. Jeffries had left, the boys ate their dinner. After dinner, the two younger boys suggested they play hide and seek. At first Brady was cool to the idea…it seemed kind of childish. But the boys persuaded him that in the big three story house, with its basement, there were lots of places to hide and still get back to base, and it would be fun. The boys suggested stakes had to be set, and asked if Brady would agree that whoever won would give the loser ten swats with a ping pong paddle. And to make sure that whoever lost would not chicken out, the loser would be handcuffed using the toy cuffs the boys had gotten in their Christmas stockings when they were younger. Brady again did not warm up to that idea. It sounded weird to do the spanking thing, and the cuffs were downright strange. But the boys pleaded, and said it would make the game more challenging and daring and not a kid’s version. Even though he thought it was stupid, they were still kids, and like all kids they would enjoy wacky stuff he surmised, so ‘what the fuck’ he would go along. After all, he had said it was kind of childish to play in the first place, so he could not now argue against making it more challenging without losing face with these younger boys. So reluctantly, he finally said, ‘sure, why not’ in a “whatever” kind of tone. He was fourteen +, he was likely to win anyway, so why not. It would be fun to give these little hell-cats a few swats and send them off for their showers and bed.

The boys demanded that he search for them first acting excited about the “older” kid finding them, and since that fit into his plans of getting them off to bed as soon as possible, into the kitchen Brady went, counting out loud to 100 while they scampered off to try and hide. The boys knew that their father had installed a special closet in the den/TV room, behind one of the corner bookcases, in which he was going to put business papers and family treasures. But the work was not done, and so the closet existed behind the case, but was not in use. Plus, the door had not been installed yet. They dashed into the den, pulled out the built-in bookcase in the corner, and slipped into the unfinished closet. Since the door had not been installed, they could look out through the shelves and in between the books, their faces hidden by the darkness of the unlighted closet. They watched as Brady walked out of the kitchen after he finished counting, and went straight to the stairs to go to the second floor to search it first as the likely place the boys would go. When he finally disappeared on the second floor landing, they slipped out and went into the kitchen to wait for him to return as the cooking timer on the dining room table ran out and the buzzer went off.

When Brady came back through the swinging door into the kitchen just before the timer went off, he was shocked to see the boys. He did not think he would lose, and now, shit, he was going to get the ping pong paddle treatment. His first thought was how to make sure they did not hit him too hard, he did not want any bruises on his butt, or marks that would show in the Middle School showers. So as they went down the stairs from the kitchen to the basement where the ping pong table was located, he spent the time chattering about the punishment and making them promise not to hit too hard…this was a frigging game, not a torture session. The boys laughed, and promised they would not hurt him with the paddle. When they got down, he hardly focused on the cuffs they snapped onto his wrists, not noticing that they were not the toy cuffs they had suggested. He was still focused on his spanking. But once they were on, they led him to the ping pong table, and told him to put his head down and spread his legs slightly, putting his cuffed hands over his head. As he did so, he lost sight of one of the boys, not noticing that Jake had gone across the room and opened a cupboard pulling out a large pillowcase. While Jemmy was verbally teasing Brady, distracting him by rubbing the paddle against the seat of his pants causing the older boy to yell at him to “cut if out”, Jake approached from behind with the pillowcase. The distraction worked, so he was unaware that the younger brother was going to cover his head with the case. Jake did so, and pulled the long case down to Brady’s neck, even as the surprised older boy lifted his head to ask what the hell was going on. But by lifting his head, he helped the boys with their plan, allowing the case to fully hang down and make it difficult for him to get it off.

“What the fuck? Get this fucking thing offa me? Damn it, that’s it…this fucking game is over….now…get it off!”

Brady was not a demonstrative kid, but this pillowcase caper and the cuffs scared him, so he yelled at the boys to take off the case and the cuffs; game was over! But the boys laughed, and made mock pleas to continue. Brady got physical and began twisting, trying to throw the pillow case off. But as he stood up and swung his body bending over and trying to thrust his head one way and then the other to get the case off. But the boys merely pulled the oversized case down further, over his torso, and then pulled him around in circles. He became dizzy and disoriented, and the next thing he knew he lost his balance and fell onto an extra mattress that was stored after the recent move next to the table on the ground. As he sprawled onto the mattress one of his flip flops went flying off his foot and away from his body. The fall made him become even more dizzy and it was compounded by the older Jeffries boy reaching under the case with a small brown bottle. Shit, these savvy punks had purchased poppers off the internet like they had seen their cousins use, and they knew what they could do. With one of the boys grasping Brady’s nose through the pillow case, they forced the bottle up to one nostril at a time even has he tried to twist his head away, and soon the teenage blond was reeling even as he yelled in protest, his head spinning and his arms and legs flailing and uncoordinated. Jake continued to give the hapless teen hits from the poppers while Jemmy worked to implement the next part of their plan.

Jemmy quickly unbuttoned Brady’s shorts and pulled them and his boxers down, effectively hobbling the disoriented, older boy, and stunning him at the same time.

“Oh Jesus…fuck, what the shit are you doing…goddamn, stop, no…nnnooooooo!”
Then pushing Brady over onto his stomach, his head still swimming from the poppers, Jemmy dipped his index finger into a bottle of cold cream they had stored in the basement earlier in the day, and swabbed it between the tight cheeks of the fifteen year old boy.

“OH FUCK…HELL NO…YOU LITTLE SHITS…GET THE FUCK OFFA ME…NO, AAAAAGGGHHH…SHIT…NNNNOOOOOOO! OOOOOHHHH JEEEEEZUSSSSS…”

Even in his stupor, Brady tensed and clenched his muscular buttocks and anus, shouting at the boys: “You fuckheads, stop that shit now…when I get outta this I’m gonna fuck you up…shit…stop…aaaaagggghhhh what the shit…stop it, damn you….fuck…..!” But Jemmy knew what he was doing. The boys had salvaged an old hot water bottle when they had moved from their house in Georgia, and it had a douche nozzle and hose. He found the tight rosettle of the teenage boy and after basting the anus with several swipes of the lube, he wriggled his finger into the taut orifice. For his part Brady increased his squawking: “Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you queers doing…God damn it, stop that shit…aaaaaaawwwwwwww!” Then Jemmy quickly grasped the slender nozzle, already connected to the hose and the hose to the full, hot water bottle. He dipped the nozzle in the cold cream jar and swiftly twisted it into Brady’s sweet boy bung while his younger brother took advantage of Brady’s hysterics to give him more hits of the Amyl Nitrate.

“Ooooooohhhhh fuuuuucccck….Oh JESUS…OH MY GOD….stop it…stop it…AW FUCK… PLEASE…aaaaaaaawwwwwwwww……!” Brady grunted while Jake continued to thrust the poppers under his nostrils. The penetration of the nozzle made him gasp and inhale deeply, only accentuating his condition. In the meantime, Jemmy made sure the nozzle was fully inserted, and then unclipped the hose and let the liquid inside the bottle flood the boy’s virginal rectum. Inside the bottle bag was a mixture of gin and tonic, enough to make a sober adult drunk as a skunk. In less than a minute, Brady was really out of it, and Jemmy had slipped the nozzle out of Brad’s anus and replaced it with a small butt plug they had also purchased on the internet. The deliberation and focus exhibited by Jake and Jemmy belied their youth. They knew what they wanted, and they were determined to obtain it. The big blond surf teen, whose casual demeanor and handsome looks were so seductive and perfect for their games, was about to fall completely into their hands. He was already trapped on his stomach, his firm, small butt cheeks flexing from the shocking intrusion of things into his anus…and his long toes flexed from the sensations, and unconsciously, he ground his crotch into the mattress.

Brady was still groaning, but now from the combination of the cold liquid in his rectum and colon and the sensation from the plug within his asshole, his cock begin to arch into an unwanted erection. Jake dutifully kept the teen’s head spinning from the Amyl Nitrate. Now Brady’s voice began to slur; “Ohhhh fuuuuck….what’ya doin’, lemme go, ooooohhhhhh you dudes are in deep shit…aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ….com’on…. ooohhhhhhh!” Jake and Jemmy paid him no attention. Instead, Jemmy now crushed one of the blue pills he took out of his father’s night stand, into a cup of rum and coke, heavy on the cola. That way, when he helped Brady sit up, he immediately began to feed the thirsty boy the drink. The combination of sensations, but mostly the poppers, had made Brady thirsty, and so he greedily gulped down the cola that was offered to him. Soon, the blue pill made his erection rock hard and begin to drip copiously. He didn’t even notice that his penis was fully exposed to the wide eyes of the his two captors between his stupor from the Amyl and the liquor.

Jemmy spoke to Brady finally, in a supportive but firm tone. “Hey dude, you better hit the john…lemme help you up.” He offered the wobbly, rubber-legged teenager assistance to get up, and as Brady rose, he realized that he had a fulsome pressure in his intestines, needing to take a quick dump. He let the younger boy steer him to the basement toilet with his boxers and briefs still at his ankles and the pillow case still covering his head, and with only one flip on his feet…his other big foot, padding along on the rug covering the concrete floor. Before he could sit down though, Jemmy reached behind Brady, and slipping his fingers into the big boy’s ass cheeks, he gripped the top of the ass plug, and slipped it right out with a pop. Brady gasped and grunted with shock as his ass hit the cold seat.

“Aaaaaggghhhh, what the fuuuuucccck….ooooooohhhhhh man…what the hell, what the fuck was that?” He still did not fully realize what had happened to him, nor the fact that as he was sitting there with a huge erection bobbing in the air. When someone reached a hand into his ass…his face flushed. Little did he know that Jake standing in front of him at the toilet was snapping digital pictures. Brady had plopped down on the toilet seat, in part to gain his wits as the alcohol and poppers kept his head swimming, but just as he did, with his hands still cuffed behind him, Jemmy shoved the little brown bottle under his nose again and made him take more whiffs of the Amyl, even as he tried to turn his head to avoid it. Mostly though, he was focused on the pressure in his rectum that suddenly resulted in a flush of liquid out of his asshole and into the toilet. The smell of alcohol was actually stronger than the smell of feces since he had taken a dump in the morning before he came to baby-sit….and as soon as he grunted the last clench of his ass muscles, Jemmy flushed the toilet. The moment he had finished evacuating his bowels and the toilet was flushed, Jake and Jeremy lifted the clumsy bigger boy up by his elbows and turned him around. They bent him over the sink counter next to the toilet and pushed his wobbly legs apart to the extent his hobbled ankles would allow. Jake, following the script he and his brother had devised, spread Brady’s tight ass cheeks, exposing the hair filled crack and the tight little slit. Jemmy used a wet wipe to swab the big boy’s anus, then once again he slid the nozzle, lubed and ready, past Brady’s unsuspecting sphincter and up his rectum one more time, releasing the water bottle clip one more time, and sending a more diluted version of the alcohol into the big boy’s ass. Within two minutes, Brady was helpless, drunk as a skunk and slurring every word out of his mouth. The younger boys turned him again, and pulled out the plug they had inserted to keep the alcohol douche in him, and quickly sat him down on the toilet again. Within seconds he was unconsciously evacuating his second flush of liquid, this time without any fecal matter or scent other than the gin’s alcohol smell. They had Brady where they wanted him, drunk, reeling, and with an unquenchable teenage boner reinforced by Viagra. They pulled off the pillow case to expose his glassy eyes and drooling mouth, so Jake could continue to snap the digital photos.

“Get up dude, you smell bad…you gotta take a shower….”, laughing as he taunted the older boy. Brady was now hopelessly confused, and he let the younger boys push him toward the basement shower stall, and said nothing as the two boys lifted his one shod foot and took off his lone flip flop, then pulled off his shorts and boxers, stripping him naked. Then they pushed him into the stall, and grasping his bound wrists, uncuffed one hand and lifted both his arms over his head, and recuffed them onto the wood beam that framed the top of the portable shower stall, just above the shower nozzle. That made Brady have to stand barely on the balls of his feet, but with enough play that he could shift from one foot to the other to keep his balance. Jake turned on the water, aiming the nozzle away from Brady initially until they got the temperature to a comfortable warmth, and then turned it on him, reaching into the narrow stall to soap him from head to foot.

“OOOOOoooooohhhhh, Jeeeeeezuuuuuusssss…aaaaaahhh, what’re ya doing to me… fuuuucccccckkkk…oooohhhhhhh.”

Brady moaned as the soft padded hands of the two boys molested him with the sweet smelling Irish Spring soap, flicking his stiff teen nipples, tickling into his hairy ass crack and against his sensitive anus, over his balls, across his six pack and into his navel, into his ticklish armpits, and up and down his legs. The even lifted each of his big feet, leaning him against the wall of the stall for support, so they could wash his big feet and tickle them a bit. Finally the boys reached his crotch, the drunk teen groaning and moaning from the sensations of someone touching him in such private places and in a way he had not experienced since he was a toddler being bathed by his mom. The Jeffries boys slid each of their soapy fists up from root to glans of the shocked teenager, palming the fat head, and making Brady squeal with pleasure. He unconsciously tried to hunch their soft fists even as he drunkenly protested, trying haplessly to protect his sensitive cock head. But the cuffs kept him standing erect and exposed, and the boys tickled the pulsing prong just enough to make Brady leak teen pre-seminal juices, without allowing him to blow his load pre-maturely.

As much as Jake and Jemmy wanted to milk the older boy as he stood helpless, they had much more determined goals. They unhooked Brady from the overhead beam, and dragged him out of the stall. Jake went back to snapping pictures of the horny, erect teenage stud, as his older brother carefully stayed out of picture view and dried him with his hands once again cuffed safely behind his back. Then the boys began a carefully staged set of photo shots.

In a couple of minutes, Jemmy and Jake had the helpless fifteen year old on his back on the mattress, and using a couple of Velcro cuffs and some rope, had used an old broom handle to tether his thick ankles apart. Then they tied his wrists, still in the handcuffs, to the middle of the bar. That lifted the blond’s long, hairy legs, up to his chest and spread them apart. His furry trench was laid open, and deep within the thick blond hair was his dark portal, winking as he unconsciously clenched his anus. Hiding behind Brady’s body to one side, Jemmy reached in to Brady’s midsection and held up the teenager’s raging prong, drooling pre-cum, while Jake snapped pictures from above, getting Brady’s drunken countenance in every frame. Then they got Brady to hold his own cock head since his hands were tied just above the erect bone, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. Finally, Jemmy lubed his hand with cold cream, and grasping the big boy prick, he slowly masturbated the grunting, groaning teen. For Jemmy, it was like the days with his cousins, sliding his fist up and down their rigid shafts, plaming and cupping their sticky fat cock knobs, and making them grunt, groan and grind their asses as they were masturbated for their own pleasure. His cousins expected the young boys to please them, and surrendered to their young cousins innocent efforts to be worthy of their older relatives whose mature bodies were the object of both their admiration and wonder. Now Jemmy was in charge of such a penis, and his lubed hands glided up and down and over the top of the pulsing, bobbing penis, tickling it and making the teenage boy grind his ass into the mattress to both enjoy and escape the overwhelming sensations of being masturbated by someone other than his own fist. Jemmy played with Brady long enough to bring him to the edge twice, his deep pisswell filled with his pre-fuck sap from being on the verge of the cum he now wanted so badly. Finally, Jemmy palmed the helpless teenage cock knob until it strained and bulged obscenely, going glassy and smooth, the head pulsing, and then exploding to a huge ejaculation which he aimed at Brady’s face, the deep pisswell opening to eject wads of teen spunk in long arching streams onto the handsome boy.

“AHHHHHHHHHHGGGGHHHHHHH….FUUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK…OH JEZUS..MY KNOB.. NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOO….AAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!”

In his drunken stupor, Brady hardly noticed the gism coating his face and chest, and after squealing through the tortuous milking of his cock head and shaft, he actually stuck out his tongue [fortuitously for Jake], who captured the blond hunk unconsciously licking up his own cum.

After carefully reviewing the digital photos to make sure that Brady was clearly the person in the picture, the boys untied their captive, pulled on his shorts and briefs, put on his flip flops, and left him snoring and exhausted on the mattress. Later, when they heard their parents driving into the garage, they woke Brady and told him to get up. They also gave him a piece of chewing gum, which the confused teen took, and told him that his breath smelled bad. Brady said little to the Jeffries when they returned, telling them in a soft voice that the boys were upstairs. It was all coming back to him, even in his dazed condition, and still with an erection in his briefs and shorts. He took his money and slipped out the side door and moved as quickly as he could to get into the house and up to his room. He stripped and without putting on his sleeping shorts, climbed into bed naked and ground his still raging boner into the sheets, falling asleep from his exhaustion and the liquor, before he could cum again. It was as restful a sleep as Brady would have in the next few days. His first venture at baby-sitting had been much more than he could have possibly expected, and it would be one that he would never be able to forget.

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