O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Punk Kids or Brett's Big Boner 6

by Glaucon55

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Johnny’s Memory

When Johnny was eleven, he was left by his mother with Mrs. Warren, the widow down the block, for an afternoon. Mrs. Warren had begun taking care of children when her husband died unexpectedly, and she needed to earn additional money to support herself and her son Adam. Adam was fourteen, and the death of his father had caused him to become more introspective and sullen than being a teenager already brought out in his demeanor. Johnny couldn’t remember why his mother had asked Mrs. Warren to watch him, but he spent a whole Saturday at the Warren house by himself with Adam and his mother. Since it was the weekend, there were no other children, and this baby-sitting arrangement meant extra cash for Louise Warren. In the early afternoon, Mrs. Warren asked Adam if he would watch Johnny, because she needed to go and do some last-minute shopping. Taking care of children from early morning to after dinner left precious little time to go to the market, do the laundry and take care of other errands. Adam hardly looked up when he said he would do it, and instead continued to watch television with Johnny as she left the house, saying she would be back in two or three hours. Johnny did not know that Adam had been hoping for something like this for some time, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d been left with some punk kid while his mother took care of family business on the weekends when she was supposed to be baby-sitting.

While Johnny was absorbed in the video game Adam offered him when his mother walked out the door, Adam went upstairs for about fifteen minutes. When he returned, he called Johnny from the top of the stairs, and asked him to come up. Johnny did what he always did when he was with Adam, he followed his instructions. When he got up the stairs, Adam asked if he wanted to play a game that Adam had learned from his friends at school. Johnny said sure, but when he saw the blindfold that Adam had in his hands, he looked a bit skeptical. Adam was smart though, he said maybe this was a game for older guys, dudes who had confidence in themselves. Johnny did not want to seem like a little kid to the older teen he looked up to, so he said he wanted to learn, and stepped into Adam’s room, following the bigger boy.

Adam was a solid fourteen year old. He was already 5’ 9” tall, and he was well proportioned and muscular. Like a young colt, he had long legs, strong ankles and big feet---size 10 already. His dark brown hair, tanned complexion and green eyes gave him a smouldering look that made Johnny’s pre-teen peter go rigid at times, especially when he saw Adam without a shirt, or in shorts and bare feet.

When he walked into Adam’s room, Johnny saw the older boy was only wearing loose, baggy seersucker shorts and his flip-flops. The fly of his shorts was bulging out dramatically. His muscled chest, flat stomach, and raspberry nipples and the obvious erection in Adams’s shorts, made Johnny’s pricklet stiffen. He didn’t understand why that happened—what caused his pee tube to suddenly go hard at times, but it felt good in his briefs and shorts, rubbing against the material and hardening involuntarily. Adam told Johnny to stand still, and put his hands behind his head. The bigger boy then walked behind him, and before he could speak to ask what was going to happen, Adam wrapped a tight bandanna around Johnny’s head, covering his eyes. Then Adam quickly pushed Johnny down onto his bed, and within a minute both of the younger boys arms were tied to the bedpost, slightly over his head and spread wide, exposing his armpits.

Johnny asked Adam what was happening, why was he tying his arms to the bed. But the older boy just told him that it was part of the game, and kept going . Suddenly Johnny felt Adam’s hands on the fly of his shorts. He half-cried out, and tried to twist his body to prevent Adam from touching him, but the older boy got between his legs, and quickly unhooked the button and pulled down the zipper. Within moments, despite his protests, Johnny’s shorts and briefs were down his legs and off. Then Adam quickly secured both of the lanky pre-teens legs to the corner posts at the foot of the bed, and Johnny was tethered— spread out, and completely vulnerable. His long, thin pricklet was fully erect, sticking straight up, narrow at the base but wider at the head, almost four inches and hard as wood.

Johnny heard Adam moving around the room, and picking up things from a table or the dresser. He pleaded with Adam to let him go, threatened to tell him mother, as he turned his head to follow the sounds. But he jumped a bit when Adam landed on the bed next to him. The older boy draped himself slightly over Johnny’s slender torso, and without any warning, a soft-bristled hair brush began to glide over Johnny’s torso, starting under his neck and working over his chest and down to his stomach. Johnny jerked wildly in his bonds, laughing, coughing and gasping---and yelling for Adam to stop…he couldn’t stand the tickling. But there wasn’t a chance that Adam was going to stop. The brush slid effortlessly from one side to the other over the taut muscles of the young boy, and each time they crossed his pectorals, the bristles gave his stiff little nipples a good tweaking, making them tingle and sting at the same time. Each time Adam noticed how Johnny’s boy bone throbbed from the action on his nipples, lifting off his stomach and going rigid, before slapping back down on his flat stomach. So he focused his attention on the pre-teen nips. Johnny squealed and cried, unable to breathe except in gasps, “nnnnnooooooo… ..aaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeee…ha, ha, ha,ha, pleaaaassssseeeeee….nnnnnnnooooo, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Adam worked the hair brush from the top of Johnny’s torso, down to the tops of his feet, carefully avoiding his navel, his armpits, and the bottoms of his feet. But it didn’t matter…Johnny was howling from the irritating bristles, scratching and chaffing his sparse but firm musculature. He was helpless, and for some reason that made his squeals and yelling all the more acute, and his pricklet throb like a miniature vibrator.

But Adam was just beginning. He put down the hair brush, and picked up an old tooth brush. He had been boiling the bristles in hot water for days, making them soft and pliant. He leaned down, and in one stroke, thrust his teenage tongue into Johnny’s exposed ear and at the same time, began to stroke the soft bristled tooth brush back and forth in Johnny’s opposite exposed armpit. Johnny lifted his ass off the bed, and screamed, but the noise was muffled by the upstairs bedroom and the thick brick walls of the house. For 30 minutes, Adam searched every nook and cranny of Johnny’s body, reducing the pre-teen to a shuddering, gasping, sweating thing, with a hard boy cock sticking up the entire time. After Adam has used the toothbrush on the soles of Johnny’s feet, watching as the boy wriggled them futilely and screamed and begged for mercy, he finally took a brief pause.

When Adam finally got to Johnny’s penis, he rested between the boy’s legs, and holding up the taut, slender shaft, he let the bristles dance from the root up to the flange. Then carefully, he gently scrubbed the bristles around the fat knob, and under the glans, stopping and allowing Johnny to moan, grunt, and beg him to stop…making sure that the boy was not in pain. After about five minutes of this excruciating masturbation, bringing the boy to the edge, and then abandoning the cock head and using the brush on his navel, reaching up to his nipples, or even probing under his boy nuts to tickle the entrance to his asspucker, Adam changed his strategy. He slipped on a cotton garden glove, soaked in hand lotion from his mother’s bathroom, and then grasping Johnny’s boner in his one fist, he used the brush with his other hand. His fist slid tantalizing slowly up and down Johnny’s boner, paying special attention to the fat knob, twirling and twisting his palm over and around the aroused prick cap. Johnny did not know what to do…he squealed, he cried, he laughed and he begged…but there also were grunts and groans of pleasure, especially when Adam’s fist slid over and around his cock head…causing excrutiating sensations. He wanted more, but at the same time it was too sensitive, too much! Finally, Adams thumb and fist curled around the expanding pre-teen cock, and settled down to strumming back and forth over the bloated cock tip. That sent Johnny over the edge, his ass bouncing on the bed, his toes curling and his pre-teen pricklet throbbing with an orgasm though no ejaculation. Still, Adam did not give him respite, and as he writhed and pleaded for the older boy to stop, the wicked, malicious fist kept squeezing and rubbing the over-wrought pre-teen erection.

For the rest of the afternoon, Adam invented ways to render Johnny’s ever hard boy bone through dry orgasm after dry orgasm. Adam loved that Johnny did not wear out like he would after shooting his cum two or three times. Adam did get Johnny to massage his own five inch teen prick to three ejaculations, and Johnny secretly loved watching the older boys spunk spurt over his fist, and his body writhe as Johnny’s fist roiled over the fat, bloated tip each time Adam came. Only one wrist was released, and Johnny was still captive and subject to Adam’s tortures. But even when he protested, Johnny loved the velvet feel of Adam’s fat, soft prick knob when he stroked the older boy’s itchy glans. When he finally was released, Adam ordered Johnny to wash up in the bathroom, pee, and get cleaned up before his mother returned. He also showed Johnny Polaroid snapshots he had taken, and swore him to secrecy if he did not want the pictures shown or discovered. That was enough to silence Johnny, and he endured one more afternoon of exquisite torture at the hands of the older boy, this time tied, gagged and on his lap, squealing through dry cums till he almost fainted. But secretly, Johnny had loved every throbbing sperm-less cum he had experienced. He masturbated every night to the memory…and the sensations. The idea of the bigger boy masturbating him, being held helpless and captive, made his boy boner rigid in his shorts. The lesson of the toothbrushes, the pictures, and the tickling were not lost on him. It took years, but now he was ready to return the favor, if not to Adam, then to the next best victim…in this case, Wes.

Wes Dissolves

Wes had hardly stopped gulping for breath after his first ejaculation, when the two boys picked up the toothbrushes that had been soaked in boiling water to turn their bristles into soft, pliant tendrils. Each teenager raised his brush letting Wes see their weapons of choice, and then on Johnny’s signal, lowered them to begin a slow, tantalizing excursion over Wes’ big boy body. Teenage boys are like overgrown colts, skitterish in the first instance. But when you add sensations which surprise them, or which are both unfamiliar and highly erotic, they become wild bucking broncos. At first Wes was disoriented, still recovering from the massive teen ejaculation over his torso and face, pretty copious for a kid his age. At the same time, Wes was not satisfied with his cum. His big boy penis had not been jacked to its whorish satisfaction, and the congealing ejaculate only made his flesh tingle and tickle more. Now the sudden sensation of the itching, soft tickle of the bristles, on his taut teenage body, made him jerk back to reality. He pulled ferociously and futilely at his bonds…grunting and yelling into his gag, but the delicious tickling quickly reduced him to a squealing, snorting, wild and helpless mass of boy hunk---his toes reflexively curling from the outlandish, wicked little bristles flying over every square inch of his body—turning his skin ruddy and inflamed.

Johnny used one hand to loosen the gag that restrained Wes from screaming his displeasure, and as he spit the wadded briefs from his mouth, he fairly gasped and squealed his pleas! “NNNNNNOOOOO…STOP, STOP, YOU FUCKING PRICKS… AAAAAHH, NO…OH GOD…OH FUCK…AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH…..YYYYYYIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE…. AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA….AAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA…..NO…PLEASE. GOD….SHIT, FUCK… .NO,AAAAAGGHGHHHHH!!!” It was all music to Johnny, as the combination of revenge against Wes and the thought of having the bigger boy at their mercy, made his dick leak like a sieve, leaving sticky tracks across Wes’ hairy legs as his boner rubbed against the bigger boy on the bed. As he looked over at Darren, he could tell that even his straight buddy was excited by the action…Darren’s hands were moving rapidly over Wes’ body, searching out areas, and making sure the bristles made just enough contact to drive the big boy crazy and his fat bone was also getting a good scrub from Wes’ other hairy leg.

AAAAAHHHHHH….AAAAGGGGGGHHHH…..AAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE….NNNNNOOOOO, OH FUCK, OH CHRIST…OF JESUS…AAAAAAGGGGHHH, NO PLEASE STOP…PLEAS STOP….I’LL DO ANYTHING… OH GOD, PLEASE…….HELP, OH FUCK, HELP ME…..AAAAA, AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HAAAAAA!!!—help, HELP….HHHHHAAAAAALLLPPPP MMMEEEEEEEE! AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

But the bristles continued to dance over and around Wes’ tethered torso and body, making him bounce on the bed, and begin to drip sexual heat from every pore. As Johnny instructed, Darren lifted himself up, and as he moved the brush with one hand, he lowered his lips to Wes’ mounded pec, and began a serious suckle on one of the older teens paps, struggling to keep contact with the wriggling older boy’s body, occasionally having to settle for his tongue lashing at the stiff, rubbery teat as Wes struggled to avoid the maddening bristles. But when Darren’s lips were able to curl around one of the teats, the nipple fairly throbbed in his mouth, stiff, rigid, and rubbery, sending electric sensations directly to Wes’ fevered cock shaft, now fully erect again and drooling his usual drool of teenage pre-jizz. But when Johnny’s batting glove, neatly covered with fine horse hair bristles, glued in patches at the finger tips and in the palm from an old shoe brush, came in contact with Wes’ huge, curved prick shaft, the big teenage jock almost lost his voice—croaking with lust and overwrought rage as his boner was tickled wickedly by the soft, scrubbing fingers searching for the expanding glans, wet and red from the evil masturbation it was enduring.

The sensations were hitting Wes from every corner, and he had no time to adjust. All he could do is scream, squeal, beg, gasp and tug at his bonds. His restraints only fed the frenzy, making him even more excited though he could not fully understand why. All he knew was that his nipple was being suckled relentlessly by the punk on one side, while his huge prick was being gently, expertly massaged with an awful glove by the other kid. Johnny added to the confusion by sticking his tongue into Wes’ ear on his side, and with the random bristling that Darren was doing with his free hand, Wes was on overload....” AAAAAAHHHHHGGGGGG….NNNNNNNNNOOOOOOO….AAAAAAH!” Wes felt the build-up to another huge ejaculation, the combination of tickling and tingling sensations were making him feel like a million ants were nibbling every sexual nerve in his body, and he thrashed as much as his bonds would allow, trying to free his bloated prick tip from the relentless manipulation of Johnny’s torquing fist . At the same time, the excruciating sensations made him wish the fucking punk kid would bring him over the edge and let him squirt his shit with complete abandon, and nurse his itching fuck tip till it made him faint. But Johnny had other ideas. Just as Wes appeared to be making his last gasp before a giant cum, just as his glans got that glassy expanded look and could barely be contained in Johnny’s cruel grip, Johnny withdrew his fist, and signaled Darren to release Wes
’ nipple. While their hands continued to glide softly over the writhing boy, this throbbing organ bounced helplessly on his taut stomach, drooling slippery pre-fuck as the itchy glans pulsed without effect, unable to achieve the sweet release that Wes’ dick centered brain now demanded. The big boy began to whine and thrash as he sought relief for his throbbing teen prong.

“OH JESUS…oh fuck, come fucking on…gimme a break…you fuckers, Jesus…shit, please ….ooooooooowwwwwww… lemme cum….oh fuck…lemme cum…Wes’ voice trailed off as his body slowly stopped wriggling around the damp sheets. As the clear goo bubbled from the wide lips of Wes’ boner, Johnny used a gloved fingertip to tease the itchy flange of the tied boy’s glans, and then leaned over and spoke calmly considering how his own heart was pounding:

“Wes, dude, does that big bone ache, need to shoot another wad, huh?” Johnny continued using his glove covered index finger to tickle across the still bloated glans of the tethered teenager. As Wes grimmaced and gasped—his eyes springing open from the unbelievable sensation of the bristle gliding softly over his knob, Johnny laid out the plan. “Wes, Darren and me wanna know when you started getting your dick off, when you got it sucked first by some other kid, and how many kids you’ve made into dick punks for your amusement. We want details dude. Less you make this story good, and it’s sounds convincing and honest, we’re gonna keep you boned up, but unable to cum, for the rest of the day. Oh, and just in case you think you can hold out…lookit this.” Johnny pointed to what seemed like a “Mexican” finger puzzle, one of those toys that you slipped onto two finger--one on each hand, and kept them trapped until you figured how to relax and slip out of the two ends. Only this straw weave was designed to slide down over a boy’s flaccid penis, and once that cock is stimulated, it would take a special escape to get the device off. Wes would in essence be cock caged until Johnny would let him out. Wes’ eyes widened when he saw the device, and he begged Johnny once again to let him go, promising to do anything he told him for the rest of the visit. But Johnny just smiled and waved the straw cock sleeve, and instructed Wes to begin his story.

 

Wes Tells His Story

Wes began boarding school when he was twelve. At that age he was already a strapping, athletic boy with a 4.5 inch boner that was none too thin. From the time he was eleven, he had learned frottage, the grinding of his morning piss-hardon, any hardon, into his bed-clothes or an old sock so that he could achieve the delicious sensations from working his fat prick tip into the soft materials. One can only imagine the sight of Wes’ taut butt cheeks clenching as he ground his boner back and forth into the soft cotton, or into his bath towel, as he lay in bed in the morning, or before he went to bed at night. He often had to bury his face into his pillow to prevent the ticklish sensations sweeping over his boy glans from making him squeak and squeal with pleasure. By the time he was twelve, the little drops of clear pre-goo that dripped from his pricklet had become a regular leak, basting the sensitive cock knob, and making the rub against his sock or towel even more excrutiating…leading to explosive boy cums, without sperm. Wes had gotten to the point where between frottage, and the use of a spare gym sock in the toilet at school, he could wring five or six dry cums from his over-active pre-teen prick on any given day. His angelic face did not betray the sexual animal that was developing, one whose waking hours were focused on the relief of his constantly hard boy bone.

But arrival at boarding school changed everything. First there were the constant lectures about masturbation and its ills given by the coaches and doctor. When he reported for his physical after the first week, the young doctor had humiliated and excited him at the same time. He had to strip, and as the doctor’s hands glided over his body along with his stethoscope, the cold steel and warm, blunt fingers made him throw a huge pre-teen boner. Wes did not see the doctor smirk, he did not know that the young physician, substituting from the city for his older colleague who had taken ill, was planning to have a good week of medical exams with the young, healthy boys of the Pennington Boys Preparatory School. Dr. Anders seeing Wes’ almost five inch pricklet with its fat helmet, ordered the boy onto the exam table and immediately brought down the stirrups generally reserved for girls’ exams and special circumstances like enemas and constipation. The doctor carefully inserted Wes’ big boy feet into the stirrups, watching as the long toes flexed and wriggled in anticipation. He used velcro straps to secure the feet, and basically kept Wes immobile on his back. Not that he expected any problems. His experience with teenage boys was that most were desperate to have someone make them ejaculate or have a dry cum, so while they feigned modestly and protested occasional “medical” procedures, they virtually all surrendered. Doctor Anders would get no fight from Wes, mostly because the boy was about to be overcome with the sensations of sex.

Wes started to describe the experience with young Dr. Anders to Darren and Johnny, as their lips and fingers continued to tantilize him, making him squirm, and adding to the throbbing of his already unruly teen boner.

Dr. Anders pulled a high stool up between the elevated and spread legs of the pre-teen. Not waiting for the Wes’ reluctance to get in the way of his exam, Anders grasped the boy’s erect pricklet in his medically gloved left hand, the palm and fingers already sticky with a vasaline lubricant, warmed and slippery. With his other free hand, also gloved, the doctor stuck his index finger into the warm lubricant and took a dollop of it which he immediately used to stroke the ragged cleft of Wes’ exposed anus. The moment the doctor’s finger touched the sensitive sphincter, the boy’s legs jerked in the stirrups, and his ass cheeks bounced on the table. But at the same moment, the doctor, firmed his grip on the boy’s rigid shaft and used his thumb to rub remorselessly on the sensitive nerve endings beneath the circumscicion scar. “Doc!” Wes exclaimed, “ah jeeezzz, oh, aaaawwwwwww….Doc…what’s happening, I mean, ah jeez Doc, aaaaahhhhhhhhh….” But the smiling doctor just kept his thumb strumming, and occasionally dragging that thumb up and over the broad cap of the boy’s sturdy pricklet. “Fuck yes,” the doctor thought to himself, “this little piece of meat is going to satisfy boys and girls alike for years to come…but now he’ s mine, and I’m going to play him like a fine instrument.” With that, the silent doctor, with the enigmatic smile, just kept his thumb moving, working the pre-teen prick knob, making the boy bounce his ass faster and faster on the soft vinyl exam table. Soon, Wes thrust his hand into his mouth, and squeezed his eyes shut, and let his body go, allowing the doctor to milk him through a long and uncontrollable dry cum. Even when he thought it should be over, and his pricklet was too sensitive, the doctor just drooled more warm lubricant onto his masturbating hand, and his palm now joined the work, sliding up and down, over the fevered and now too sensitive knob, yet the shaft and glans would not go soft. The young doctor worked like an artist, making the boy squeal and grunt, and after another ten minutes, shudder through another thundering dry orgasm. This time, Wes hand to grasp a towel and stick it into his mouth, and even then one of his soprano pre-teen yelps slipped out as the doctor’s thumb zeroed in on the defenseless glans one more time, to torture the big pre-teen into submission.

As he told Darren and Johnny the story of his medical exam that he had never shared with anyone previously, Wes’s now big boy boner throbbed helplessly from the light touches and tickling administered by his two young jailers. For their part, the boys’ own boners leaked copiously from the amazing story of Wes being used and milked by the young doctor at his first school medical exam. They asked if Wes had ever seen the young Doctor Anders again, but he said no. The regular doctor returned the next week, and Doctor Anders had spent just about enough time at the school, milking and masturbating the young boys sent to him for exams. He had heard from at least two other boys of how the doctor had worked them over and over, making their pre-teen pricklets fairly strum with the play of his talented fist, drawing cum and after cum from them till they had to beg him to stop. One boy, tow-head Joey Spears said the doc had milked four dry cums from his oversized pre-teen whang, already six inches yet not spitting sperm. Joey said the doc had to put his hand over his mouth the last time, rolling his fist mercilessly over Joey’s fat boy knob, making him squeal and whine helplessly from the delicious sensations. But Joey was a jerk-king anyway, loving to masturbate for the other boys who were fascinated by the size of his organ, and letting others do it for him in the bathroom, and when lights were out and they crawled over to his bed to reach under the sheets and anonymously service him while he feigned sleep.

This story was enough to qualify Wes for his cum, but Johnny wanted to get one more, knowing that this boy was likely to get sexual opportunities many others would not. He wanted to hear at least one more. Plus, he had a tape going, recording every one of Wes’ nasty words, and vivid descriptions. “Okay, Wes, one more dude, and maybe you’ll earn your scum…but better make it good…no slacking” and to ensure the boy understood, he dragged the covered nail of his index finger back and forth across the glans, making Wes gasp and grind his ass into the bed, whelping for mercy.

“kay, kay….I got one…Jesus, please, give me a sec….shit…..fuck……” Wes gasped from the sudden stroking of his exposed glans, and then began to burble his next recollection as quickly as he could get out the words. When he got into the routine of the school, Wes had precious little time for his masturbatory escapades. Even grinding into his sock at night was difficult since he slept in a shared room with four other boys, two to each bunk bed and unlike Joey he was embarrassed to admit he liked masturbating. The moment he began to rut, the frame of the bunk bed would shudder gently, alerting his bedmate what was going on. Wes’ three to five dry cums per day dwindled to three to five cums per week. He was constantly horny, and was prone to springing boners in class. At least twice he had masturbated during a class, using his location in the room, and his sweater over his lap, to hide the frantic manipulation of his penis through a hole in his pant’s pocket and the soft material of his cotton briefs. God Wes loved the feel of his strong fingers twisting the cotton material round and round the knob of his leaky, aching pricklet, making the knob throb for release, and eventually making him buck almost imperceptibly through his dry cum. He had to loosen his hold on his prick knob immediately, because the overwhelming sensation of the tickling on his glans, immediately after a cum, was too much to take with others potentially seeing him. What We did not know, was that on both occasions he jerked his boy boner in class, someone was watching him. Someone was delighted to watch as his eyes roled quietly back and his thighs squeezed together when the moment hit, almost helpless as the delicious tingling overcome him, and lasted through five to six shuddering pulses.

The voyeur was Wes’ thirteen year old roommate, Miles Landers, another big boned, big pricked teen. Miles intended to try out his twelve year old roommate, who was apparently so horny that he was masturbating in class where someone could notice. Well someone had, and Miles intended to make the most of this opportunity. Miles had learned about sex at the age of ten when his wealthy parents, both professionals with little time for their perfect little boy, engaged a piano teacher to fill some of his lonely hours. Miles preferred to go down from their Manhattan apartment and meet kids from the neighborhood of much poorer backgrounds. But his parents were not about to indulge this desire. Instead, they hired a nineteen year old music major from NYU to teach their son how play as one step in preparing him for the cultured, college educated life they envisioned for him. Little did they know that Michael Chambers would teach Miles much, much more. By the time his lessons ended two years later and he was sent off to private school, Miles had learned how sweet it could feel to have his fat little pricklet, and its oversized knob, vibrated in the hot, wet sucking mouth and throat of another boy. Chambers sucked the boy from head to toe, and then would wring dry cum after dry cum from the spasming boy as his tongue lashed the bulbous prick knob, and slathered round and round the helplessly sensitive tip to make it surrender again and again. Miles grew into a handsome, athletic boy with a greedy dick, always ready to be sated by some hot sucking. Now, he wanted to see what it was like to make another boy surrender to the insatiable lust to ejaculate that Michael Chambers had trained him to crave.

That night, Wes recalled awaking from a deep sleep, on his stomach, with his hands strangely immobile. As he emerged from his slumber, he realized that his hands were secured by school ties to each of the corners of the bunk bed frame. He turned his head to see if anyone else was awake in the darkened room, and he gasped to see Miles’ smiling face staring at him from the edge of the bed. Miles put his index finger up to his mouth to indicate to Wes to keep quiet, and he quickly slipped one hand under the blanket and sheet, and went straight to Wes’ firm ass cheeks in their pajamma bottoms. Wes frowned, making an angry expression, and shook his head at Miles to indicate to him to stop what he was doing. Not wanting to wake the other two boys, he was constrained to facial expressions and mouthing obscenities at the older boy. But Miles just smiled and slid his firm hand over the taut mounds of Wes’ boy butt, letting his fingers trail deep into the crevice, making the younger boy squirm around the bed. Miles leaned over and whispered softly, “Dude, you looked like you really enjoyed jerking off in Mr. Ralston’s class…feel good to play with that prick of yours, and jerk it off?” Wes closed his eyes, blushing in the darkness, and continuing to try to evade the bony fingers that were now probing his clenched ass pucker through his pajamas, shooting sensations down to his toes and making his pricklet instantly hard. Now Miles other hand joined the first under the sheet and blanket. But instead of helping to probe Wes’ ass it slid effortlessly, during the younger boy’s gyrations to evade the groping, under his body and lay palms up on the younger boy’s abdomen. The skin was hot and firm, and the hand then slid up to the nearest molded pectoral muscle, seeking out the rubbery boy nubbin and gently pinching it. Wes gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, the combination of the probing fingers at his anus and the other plying his boy teat, making him reflexively grind his pricklet into the bed clothes. Suddenly Miles slipped his hand down from Wes’ nipple and into the opening of his pajamma pants as he continued to turn his body trying to evade the searching digits. Wes gasped aloud this time as the cool fingers of the thirteen year old closed around his throbbing erection. He had not focused on his stiff penis, rubbing against the soft material of the pajama bottoms and the sheets. Butt the incessant fingers scrabbling into his sensitive crack and tickling his anus, had made his pricklet turn into a stiff cudgel, wet with pre-cum, and perfect for Miles to grip. Using his thumb to gather the bubbling pre-teen sap drooling from Wes’ fuck tip, and burrowing the fingers of his other hand into the boy’s ass crack, Miles was able to begin a steady masturbation of Wes’ engorged pricklet. It wouldn’t be the last time this happened during the first year, but it was certainly the most exciting for Miles as he made the big boy writhe over his bed, and grind his aching boy dick into the gripping and stroking palm of the sly thirteen year old. Wes bit into his pillow, trying as much as humanely possible to prevent his groans and squeals from getting into the room, and waking the other boys. “Mmmmmpppppphhhhh….uugggh, aaaaggggghhhhhh….mmmmppphhhhh….” He forced his faced down, just as he involuntarily forced his hips into driving the throbbing member into Mile’s masturbating fist. The rough thumb pad was exquisitely torturing Wes, making his pricklet
’s fat, sticky glans expand to the scrubbing touch, and driving him relentlessly to a massive dry cum. Within minutes, Miles talented thumb was feeling each throb and pulse, as Wes reached his climax. The boy lifted his hips and ass, and drove them down one last time with as much control as he could exert, fearing he would wake the whole room. His twitching prong jerked and pulsed, and yet Miles wicked thumb refused to stop, tickling and roiling the tethered boy’s prick knob till Wes almost betrayed the action in the room from the growing sound of his groans.

Darren shuddered as he listened to Wes describe the remorseless milking that Miles had administered, his own prick leaking madly and on the verge of ejaculation. Wes had given Johnny and Darren just what they had demanded, two tales of his early sexual exploits, both extremely exciting and now both on tape. The tales were worth waiting for. Johnny took up the lead again, ready now to grant Wes his second ejaculation of the day.

“So Wes, you seem like you were always having that fat prick played with… always getting someone to make you feel good, huh?” Wes only responded by renewing his pleading…”please Johnny, I did what you wanted, common dude, lemme cum dude, lemme get my nut.” As he spoke, Johnny continued to twirl his glove and bristled covered fingers around the sensitive glans of the bigger boy, recalling how Miles had tortured his cums from a younger Wes’ bloated fuck tip years earlier. Wes gasped, and extended his legs and lifted his hips as the agonizing sensations trailed over and around his cock head. “Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh… .. nnnnnnnooooooooo, please, dude, oh fuck, shit, please…..nnooooo more….. aaaaaaggggghhhhh.” At a wink from Johnny, he and Darren returned to their original tact. Darren fastened his lips on the nearest, rubbery teat, suckling it into stiff erection, and Johnny picked up the pace and friction, basting the bloated prick knob with the drooling juices dripping from the wide piss lips . Wes, was getting what he wanted, but he would have to endure how he got it to achieve the cum he was begging for.

NNNNNOOOOOOOOOO….. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH, FUCK, OH SHIT, CHRIST, AAAHHHHHHH… .NO, NO, AAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!” Wes twisted as much as his tethers would allow, and bounced his ass like a post-hole drill, gasping and screaming as Johnny’ s wicked bristles scrubbed every inch of the 8” teen boner. Wes’ long thick toes curled, and his fingers scrabbled uselessly, as he squealed and begged. But when Darren and Johnny began to lick and suck on the big boy, with Johnny’ s tongue deep in Wes’ ear, the tightly secured teen was lost. He forced his hips as high as he could planting his feet at the bottom of the bed in spite of his bonds, as Johnny’s fingers whirled around and around the knob. The overwrought erectile tissue expanded and the glans went smooth, the piss lips opened, and ropes of thick, white goop bolted from the tip.

Wes began to hyperventilate, gasping and gulping in air as he sperm shot out of his penis, and yet his cock head was mauled and massaged mercilessly in spite of his exhortations and shrill pleading. “DUDE…..DUDE…. aaaaaaaahhhhhhh… .stop, stop…. No, oh fuck, stop…. aaaaaaggggggghhhhhh, no please…. aaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhh! Wes was bucking so much, Johnny grasped his spitting boner firmly and just used his thumb to flick the big boy’s cock head.

The wailing and begging continued for five minutes, but finally Johnny stopped. But Wes’ day was far from over. Darren and Johnny captured Wes in a variety of poses, including one where his legs were drawn over his head, and his mouth was gagged with a funnel. They then masturbated him again until his copious boy sperm shot into the funnel and drooled down Wes’ throat. Wes came a total of six times that day, and he spent his last minutes before he was released sucking Johnny’s and Darren’s toes on video tape, and thanking them for taking control of his unruly body. It was just Saturday, and that night, after the adults were asleep from their day out, Johnny secured Wes to his bed, reminding him of the many jpegs and video confession he had stored and ready for internet access. Johnny gently massaged Wes’ penis into an unwilling erection, then he left the big boy teen to get a much needed night’s sleep. Sunday would be another long day, and the vibrators that Johnny had were going to get full and interesting use with more of Darren’s assistance.

When Sunday night rolled around, and Wes and his parents said their good byes, no one noticed how quiet and polite Wes had become over the course of the weekend. He barely looked into Johnny’s eyes as he made his farewell, “Dude, catch ya later….” And that was it…and Wes hoped it would be the extent of their contact for some time to come. But Johnny had already made his plans. He wrote Wes and indicated that the teen was to write him once per week with a three page description of a sexual act he engaged in, and he insisted that the reports not be redundant or boring. Wes was going to learn the cost of humiliating younger boys, for some time to come. Johnny’s dry run had been a sticky success. He proved he could take an older boy and bend him to his will, and even more, he could make him reveal his most private self at Johnny’s command. It was time to go for really big game.

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