Did you read the fine print

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Did you read the fine print?

By Chris Carr

Part I

With a furtive glance at his buddy, Jim felt a sinking feeling, fearing the worse. Hesitating, he looked at
the hardened men considering his options. There were three of them, two for the cameras and cigar man,
his eyes unyielding.

"Make some extra cash?" He’d asked, sidling besides the boys at a local gas station. Chomping on a well
gnawed cigar he looked impatient. Like he wouldn’t wait long for a response. Jim worked the gas station
with his close street buddy Willie. Impoverished boys they practically lived on the streets, panhandling for
their keep.

"Wash your winda’s, mista?"

"Carry yo’ groceries ma’am?"

Jim was the more successful of the two, his confident attitude a plus, he was tenacious refusing to take no
for an answer. "Aww com’on, what’s it to ya?" He’d counter to some reluctant perspective, flashing them
his winning smile.

Pennies. That’s all it got them, however. Just enough to eek out an existence and hope for the next day.
Making the man’s offer more enticing. Jim looked up at him, a passing car causing him to look away. He
looked at Willie who hunched his shoulders, deferring to him as usual.

Against his better judgment, he’d accepted, hopping into the car with the strange man, Willie hot on his
heels. No sooner they’d closed the door, the man sped off, eyes glued on the road. Jim looked at Willie,
squeezed in the front seat with him then out the window, wondering had he made the right decision.

"How ol’ are you boys?" Cigar man asked, never looking at them.

"I’m 15," Jim answered, and with a nod at Willie added that he was 14.

"For now, you’re both 18," Cigar man snapped. "You’ll both sign papers sayin’ that you are, no
questions. Alright?" Jim and Willie nodded.

Soon, the man pulled up to a remote warehouse, parking near a door. "You boy’s whack off?" He said,
leading them to a deserted office. An old desk sat to the rear and the man parked himself behind it.
Opening a drawer, he found a new cigar, popping it in his mouth and lighting up. His question had caught
them so off guard the boys didn’t know what to say. Mute, they stood opposite his desk, heads down.

"Whack off? You know, jack off, beat your meat?" He snapped, impatient again.

"Yeah," Jim muttered, his head still down. Willie allowed a quiet nod of his head, then looked down also.

"You do it today?" Both boys shook their heads no, faces reddening.

"Great! All ya’ gotta do is knock off a load for our cameras and you’ll get your money," Cigar man said,
standing. "Com’on," He said, walking out the door.

Jim looked at Willie who stared at him with consternation, then a smile crept around the corners of his
mouth. Heads still down, they both allowed a stolen grin then hopped to it, darting out the room to find
the man when he yelled for them.

In another room, they found a hastily prepared studio. Sheets hung behind an old moldy couch, while, in
front of it stood a pair of cameras. Wires ran across the floor, connecting the cameras to a pair of
monitors. Cigar man sat in front of one, just off from the couch, his fresh cigar stinking up the already
musty room. He directed the boys to the couch, cautioning them to watch for the myriad of wires.

Jim gingerly stepped over wires, eventually arriving at the couch. Willie was en route when cigar man
ordered him to wait, just off camera. "When I tell you, you go to the couch," He instructed. Willie
nodded, fiddling with the ring he’d found yesterday as he anxiously glanced at Jim.

Music started, some kind of ancient, disco sounding rhythm, then a fan was directed at the couch and the
lights dimmed. Jim followed the proceedings, his eyes darting here and there as the men made ready then,
to his surprise, cigar man shouted "Action!"

Everyone was suddenly staring at him, the room semi-still save the whirring fan and pounding music.
Cigar man blew smoke from his cigar, that impatient look on his face again while Willie stood to the side,
his eyes near saucers now.

Crouched behind the cameras, the other men were apparently waiting for something to happen and it
finally dawned on Jim that he was the show. The idea of a room full of strange men peering at him
through cameras and monitors proved first unnerving then, considering cigar man’s proposal, strangely
arousing.

He’d whacked off a thousand times. Maybe too much, he often chided himself, the mess of another load
on his hands making him guilty. But he couldn’t help it. Sometimes, just the sensation of his clothes
against his sensitive dick was all it took. "Be back," He’d announce to Willie, darting off to find a
secluded spot.

Now, he was in a room with strange men and they were waiting for him to "knock off a load." Like
clockwork, his dick surged beneath his clothing and he felt the mechanism kick into gear. In no time his
tight jeans were sporting a slight bulge, his randy boy dick throbbing just beneath the surface.

He squirmed slightly on the smelly couch, rotating his hips in an effort to relieve his cramped tool, then
glanced up to see if they’d noticed. The men behind the cameras were focused on him, the lenses of both
cameras apparently on his bulge. He looked at the cameras, then down at his crotch, which only made
him squirm again. He’d have to do something quick or he’d spew a load in his shorts.

His heart pounding in his ears, it matched the throbbing rhythm of the ancient disco tune as he wrestled
with the button on his jeans. The beat was climbing into a crescendo, each round clamoring higher and
higher until, just as he popped the last button on his jeans and sunk his hand into this threadbare, soiled
briefs, it went into overload.

Caught on the wave of the bouncy tune, he almost let out a sigh when he finally pulled his shorts back
and slipped his hand around his pulsing boy post. Patiently, the men waited, one camera trained on his
concealed wand, the other on his cute, boy face.

Jim stroked his rock hard bone, the occasional brush of his worn briefs against the sensitive head an
added plus until he could take it no more. Head down, he was almost oblivious of the cameras now, his
eyes locked on his growth.

The sensations were incredible and he wondered if he’d ever felt this hot before. His balls tingled,
drawing up close to his near hairless groin while his chest erratically rose and fell. Pulling his briefs back,
his dick rose proudly from his groin as he continued stroking it. With each cycle of his hand around the
head of his dick, he felt his toes wiggle, signaling his fast approaching release.

Out the corner of his eye, he noticed cigar man ushering Willie into the scene. "Act like you’re surprised
and try to hide it" He directed, shoving Willie at the couch.

Jim looked up, honestly surprised at the sudden turn of events and almost on cue, yanked his clothes
quickly over his pulsing hardness. Willie approached the couch, his downy soft, unruly natural billowing
beneath the fan’s whir.

Clumsily stumbling over wires, he parked his lanky frame next to his long time friend. His first inclination
was to look at the camera but he’d been warned by the stern man not to, so, following a moments
hesitation, he looked down a Jim’s groin.

Jim’s dick still throbbed beneath his soiled briefs the swollen head slowly becoming visible as its oozing
juices wet the fabric. For a long time Willie stared at the bulge, his own dick responding in kind. The
moment awkward it was broken when cigar man called out, "Move your hand like you’re telling him to
take it out."

The boy’s glanced at him then Willie slowly raised his hand and made the gesture for the camera. Jim
stared at him a tick, then reached in his pants and pulled his glistening length out.

Willie stared at it, the beat of his excited heart steadily thundering in his ears. He’d never seen Jim’s dick
hard before. Sure, they’d shared a good piss, here and there and he’d stolen glimpses but never with it in
its present state. A solid, cylinder of hardened flesh, it was dusky brown colored, just a shade darker than
Jim. The head heart shaped, it glistened with Jim’s juices.

He hadn’t expected it but something about the moment proved rather stimulating. Despite the strange
men, hunched behind cameras, he felt his dick swell as he stared at Jim’s solid rod. But he hadn’t
anything to compare, he demurred.

Huddled beside his friend, just the thought of hauling out his dinky, boy length made him squirm. Jim was
languidly stroking his tool again, occasionally casting him casual glances. He knew he’d have to concede
but he was too embarrassed.

The cameras rolled, the men patiently waiting. Willie looked at one, then the other, frozen. Then he heard
a squishing sound and immediately looked down at Jim’s dick. No wonder he was so bold, he reasoned,
spying the errant spot of boy juice on his well shaped dick. Another dollop oozed out and Jim’s hand
caught it, emitting another healthy squish. Willie squirmed, his dick trapped against his too-tight shorts. He
stared at Jim’s dick then glanced up just in time to catch him motion for him to take his out.

That did it. His heart leaping in his slight chest, he found strength in Jim’s strength and slowly lowered his
hands to unfasten his dirty shorts. He could feel the men’s eyes on him, along with the intrusive cameras
but above all that, he felt Jim’s eyes, trained on his groin. So nervous he was nearly panting now, he
wrestled with his clothing until they fell aside, allowing him to extract his randy, equally hard boy spear.

Like a willowing reed, it stood from his sparsely covered groin. Whereas Jims was a dusky brown, his
was lighter, almost amber. In his mind, it was but a boy’s arrow but in actuality it rivaled Jim’s solid
length, just not so solidly.

Jim smiled at him, still stroking his sturdy growth. He allowed a reluctant grin then, staring at Jim’s round
sausage, he felt a tingle as his hand absently slipped around his own hard growth. Why hadn’t they
thought of this before, he wondered, his eyes closing to the sensation.

In time, they were both quietly stroking their anxious roots. The fan whirred and the music pounded, but
they were both in their own worlds. Eyes closed, each boy stroked, pulsing posts unabashedly displayed
for all to see now. Then, the urge hitting him, Willie slowly raised his free hand to reach for Jim’s rocket.

Jim flinched when he sensed the strange touch, his eyes flinging open. Almost on instinct, he pushed
Willie’s hand away, then closed his eyes and resumed stroking. All told, it was but a few seconds but
seemed like an eternity to Willie. Dejected, he felt his dick wilt.

"Go ahead, touch each other," Cigar man suddenly said, as if egged on by Willie’s action. The look on
Jim’s face saying it all, they both froze. "Go ahead!" Cigar man decreed, that stubborn impatience in his
voice again.

Casting forlorn glances at each other, the boys complied, if not out of morbid curiosity, then at the least to
deter repercussions. Jim’s dick lurched slightly when Willie’s grimy hand coddled it. Extending his hand to
do likewise, he wondered just how sensitive his dick was? After all, this wasn’t some cute girl from his
neighborhood, caressing his hard dick, it was his buddy, Willie.

Still, his dick seemed to make no differences and arose to the occasion. Looking first at his willful dick, he
looked subsequently at Willie’s randy offering, his hand awkwardly passing across it. Willie’s dick stood
erect, a droplet of wet substance oozing from the head that almost made Jim recoil. His eyes darting at
cigar man, he contained himself, rubbing idly just below the boy’s swollen head.

"Enough!" Cigar man yelled, obviously disappointed with their awkward efforts. "Finish!" He snapped,
chomping impatiently on his cigar.

Each grasping their perspective lengths the boys eagerly returned to stroking themselves. Small squishes
filled the cramped room as their hands slipped up and down. Legs spread, they seemed in a race for the
finish, twin posts arising from their splayed clothing.

Jim let out a small gasp, his dick practically standing perpendicular to his groin now. His legs outstretched
before him, his feet wiggled as his hand strummed rapidly around his length. Willie watched, his own dick
seconds from release, his legs outstretched also.

With another gasp, Jim darted a peek at his friend’s golden brown weenie and, despite himself, he felt his
dick surge. Willie’s dick was so hot, he thought, throwing his head back as angry plumes of boy cum
squirted from the head of his dick.

Squirming and wiggling, he grunted and groaned, squinting to take another peek at Willie’s dick. Then, to
his utter surprise he heard Willie gasp beside him and suddenly, white jets of boy cum were leaping from
his dick. Sailing through the air, they plopped on his leg, one even plopping between them to land on the
soiled couch. The spectacle was so hot, Jim thought he’d cum again, his depleted dick swelling in his fist.

Willie grunted and groaned, his dick still dribbling rivulets of boy cum, his feet wiggling in his tattered
tennis. He’d never felt a nutt like this. Then, sadly it was over and he couldn’t stand another stroke on his
sensitive dick. Opening his eyes, he looked at Jim who was damp with perspiration, then over at the men
and equipment.

"Stand up!" Cigar man yelled.

Jim and Willie slowly stood, their semi-hard dicks still wet with their issue. "Turn, face each other." Like
automatons, the boys slowly turned to face each other, twin dicks bowed toward each other. "Take down
your pants…. more… more…ok, now turn around and bend over."

Their pants down around their ankles, the boys stood frozen, still facing each other. With a furtive glance
at his buddy, Jim felt a sinking feeling, fearing the worse. Hesitating, he looked at the hardened men
considering his options. There were three of them, two for the cameras and cigar man, his eyes
unyielding.

"Turn around and bend over!" He shouted, his voice uncompromising.

They’d done what he’d asked, each "knocking off a load". Why was he asking them to do more? Jim
blinked, looking hopelessly at his friend then complied, turning to present his pert ass to the cameras.
Willie complied, doing likewise, hoping that it would soon be over.

"Bend over."

Following a moments hesitation, they bent, lowering their heads to almost touch the couch. "Nice," they
heard cigar man say behind them, and for the first time, the other men spoke, adding their assent. "Spread
your legs," Cigar man called. Cumbered by their pants and underwear, the boys stretched their legs best
as possible.

"Nice," Cigar man repeated, obviously standing now. Jim glanced over his shoulder and immediately cigar
man yelled at him to keep his head down. Then, to his surprise, cigar man rattled something to the other
men in another language.

Sweat gathering beneath his armpits, Jim chanced a peek at the proceedings. Looking slightly over his
shoulder he watched as the men prattled on in the foreign tongue, pointing at the cameras and then their
watches. The cigar man glanced over at them, his eyes almost catching Jim’s then looked back at the
equipment.

"I wanna go," Willie whispered beside him. Jim shushed him, wondering just how bad things had gotten.

Cigar man’s voice approached them, then suddenly, Jim felt his fat hand on his upturned ass. Jerking up,
he glared at the man, hoping to put an end to the nasty turn of events. Cigar man glared back at him, his
cigar twirling as he chomped it. Extending his hand, he pushed Jim back down, his other hand returning to
caress the boy’s smooth bottom.

Behind them, they heard the music stop as Jim squirmed to the sensations of the nasty man’s hand on his
smooth rump. Round and round it cycled, circling his taut hole, caressing the supple skin. When it
stopped to travel the length of his hairless channel, however, Jim instinctively reached back to swipe it
away. Another hand seizing his, he suddenly found both his hand clasped behind his back as the previous
hand returned to slip up his smooth channel.

Just as Jim began to struggle, Willie suddenly felt a pair of hands on his upturned boy cheeks. He’d been
watching Jim so hard, he hadn’t even noticed the other man standing behind him. Jerking, he looked over
his shoulder at the man, but couldn’t place him. Apparently, a fourth man had joined the party, and he
wasn’t wearing anything!

Part II

Cigar man said something to the new man in that foreign language as he chomped on his cigar, still
effortlessly holding Jim’s hands. The other man muttered something back, stepping behind Willie to
fondle his protruding, bubble butt. Willie remained bent at the waist, fright in his eyes as he glanced over
at Jim who was squirming, a scowl on his face.

Willie thought about struggling too but decided against it. He wasn’t a fighter like Jim. Jim would scrap
with anyone, big, little, young, old. He’d stepped to an older boy at the corner store last summer. The
boy, a wooly headed 17 year old, was trying to take Willie’s silver chain. It was worthless, a bobble he’d
found in a garbage can but to the boy, it was the Hope diamond.

Just as he reached to snatch it from Willie’s scrawny neck, Jim stepped between them, eyeing the older
boy.

"Sup fool?" Jim said in a very convincing voice.

"Besta back up off me," The older boy said and before he could get his game face on, Jim reached up and
punched him soundly in the nose. The boy literally yelped as his hands flew to his aching nose to attend
to it. Jim was winding up to deliver another punch when the boy backed away, threatening revenge as he
sped down the block.

Jim wasn’t trying to take on the Cigar man, though, which told Willie, they were in over their heads.
Although he continued scowling and squirming, he reluctantly acquiesced, allowing the man’s fat hands to
do as they pleased.

Willie was watching Jim so hard, he’d practically forgotten about the naked man. A strapping bronzed
skinned man, muscles rippled in his arms and chest, every time he moved. His big feet planted soundly
behind Willie’s tattered tennis shoes, his hands were busily exploring his smooth round ass.

What kind of perverted men were these, Willie wondered? Why would a man want to feel on a boy’s
ass? Just then, Willie felt the man’s hand travel up his crack. As his large fingers passed over his tender
hole, he felt a strange sensation creep over him. To his surprise, this sensation traveled up his asshole and
pinged his sleeping dick, awakening it. Stunned, Willie jerked forward. The muscular man uttered
something that sounded like surprise as he pulled him back, pinning his hands behind his back, like Jim’s.

In this position, all Willie could see was the man’s bare feet. Staring between his legs, he gazed at the
man’s immense toes as the hand passed up his crack again.

Like before, the strange sensations aroused his dick and despite himself, he felt it extend. The man’s hand
prodded his hole continually now, stimulating his unruly dick until, before he could contain it, his dick
pointed straight down, fully erect. Confused, Willie started to squirm.

Cigar man said something, momentarily distracting him. He wasn’t certain, but judging by his tone, it
sounded like he was comparing the boy’s asses. Willie tried glancing over his shoulder but could only see
Cigar man’s shirt and motioning hand. Sure enough, his hand moved first to Jim’s ass then he felt it on his
ass. More words were exchanged followed by a leering laugh.

Then, naked man made an excited exclamation and he felt him kick his feet apart, opening his legs wider.
Naked man prattled on animatedly and then it dawned on him that he’d spotted his wickedly hard dick.
An excited exchange between the men ensued then another leering laugh as naked man lewdly stroked
Willie’s erection.

Mortified, Willie hung his head, staring at naked man’s feet again. The two men continued their revelry,
bantering at length, then there was silence. Willie chanced a peek over his shoulder but couldn’t really see
anything. Then he heard Jim let out a smothered shriek. Confused, he stared up at his friend.

Jim closed his eyes, his face strained, then they flung open and he let out sharp cry.

"Noooo!" He yelled, struggling vehemently. What was it? Willie panicked, straining to see. Jim squealed
again then he blew out a long, frustrated stream of air, his eyes squeezed shut.

Hissing and grunting, he squeezed his eyes tighter and all Willie could do was watch in horror. In time,
Jim quieted some but he was still squeezing his eyes and that strained look never left his face.

Naked man had all but stopped playing with his ass during this episode but then his hand returned to
diddle his tight hole again. This had to be the worse nightmare in the world, Willie thought, regretting their
hasty decision.

Cigar man’s voice sounded and the hand on his ass slowed as naked man apparently observed what he
was addressing. His head down, Willie stared at naked man’s feet, then peered through Jim’s legs to see if
he could glimpse the action. The entire world upside down, he reoriented himself and finally figured out
what he was seeing. Somehow, in this position, he could see Cigar, standing just behind Jim and the boy’s
exposed groin.

The first thing he noticed was that Cigar man had opened his pants. His fat gut hanging over his groin, he
then noticed that his boxers were lowered also. Willie bent a little lower, straining for a glimpse at Cigar
man’s dick his heart racing when he finally spied it. Hard and glistening, it poked out from his hairy groin,
the head inches from Jim’s ass. Cringing at the site, Willie lowered his eyes, in turn spotting naked man’s
hand and what it was holding.

To his utter surprise, naked man was stroking Jim’s wickedly hard dick! Wiggling and grunting Jim let out
another frustrated puff of air. Every once in a while, his eyes would squeeze extra tight and he’d bite his
lip or let out a reluctant hiss, his face straining extra hard and reddening. For each of those reactions,
Willie noticed that Jim’s dick seemed to swell and become extra hard.

Cigar man and Naked man chattered again, then he felt Naked man’s hand on his asshole once more.
This time, however, there was a slippery substance on his fingers. Stressed, Willie felt Naked man’s index
finger prod his hole then pressure was added.

Soon he was letting out a grunt, followed by a loud yell as Naked man’s finger slipped inside his tight
hole. Struggling like he’d seen Jim do, he hissed and yelped as more of the man’s finger found its way up
his tight chute.

The first sensation was of searing pain, followed by a feeling of sudden tightness. Like a hot poker, the
man’s finger stung, stretching his hole to accommodate the intrusion. No wonder Jim had protested so, he
reasoned supposing the same had happened to him. But unlike Jim, he cried out, hot tears filling his eyes
as the finger spread him wider.

Wiggling and struggling, he squeezed his ass muscles, desperately trying to push the finger out. He felt the
man’s finger slip further up his chute, to his horror, almost as if his pushing was helping. Then he felt it
bump against something, deep inside his channel. Naked man commented on his reaction, just as he
shuddered, his head rising slightly. Stating something else, Naked man rubbed his finger across the
extra-sensitive bump inside Willie’s chute.

Before he knew it, he let out a quiet sigh. Naked man chuckled as he rifled off another comment to Cigar
man. Cigar man laughed an apparent agreement and then he heard Jim let out another reluctant grunt.

His dick snapping upwards, every time Naked man prodded the area in his asshole, Willie quivered again.
Though the sensations were indescribably pleasant, he resented being manipulated. He’d lost control of
his body and it was at Naked man’s mercy.

Despite himself he felt his body respond and soon he was anticipating a raging orgasm. That finger, deep
inside his tube was doing things he’d never dreamed of, eliciting moans and sighs from him. Forgetting
how he was being manipulated, he squeezed the finger with his ass muscles, increasing the sensations. His
dick snapped forward, standing at attention and he sensed the cum backing up behind his balls.

Cigar man snapped a sharp command and suddenly, the finger was gone! Willie almost moaned in
disappointment, jerking upwards to look over his shoulder. The men were conferring, each of them gazing
at the boy’s asses. Naked man nodded consent as Cigar tucked his semi-hard dick inside his pants, gazing
first at Jim then at Willie.

Willie’s eyes widened when they looked at him and it was then he noticed Jim, standing close. So close,
they were almost touching, his head raised also as he stared over his shoulder at the men.

"What they gon’ do?" He whispered. Jim raised his shoulders slightly, his eyes dark.

Cigar man hardly paid them any attention, zipping his pants as he continued his conversation. Then they
started to move the cameras and Jim eyed the door. He looked over at Willie, hoping he was with him
then looked back at the open door again. It was closed!

Standing next to it with a smug look was one of the camera men. Their hearts sinking the boys hung their
heads.

"Take off those clothes," Cigar man barked, sealing their fate.

Jim and Willie blinked, dumbfounded. When neither of them moved, Cigar man repeated his order, this
time more louder. The boy’s flinched, staring at him then, slowly, Jim raised a foot and removed his shoe.
Willie followed suit, removing his tennis also, slowly peeling off his clothes until finally he stood naked,
save his dingy socks.

"Them dirty socks too!" Cigar man snapped.

Stripping their last piece of clothing away, the boys watched the hustle and bustle about them. Cameras
were repositioned and lights directed at the couch. The fan redirected at the couch a semi-cool breeze
enveloped them. A few minutes later, the commotion subsided, the cameramen in position once more and
the boys looked over at Cigar man.

He was busy searching through a strange looking briefcase, his back to them. "Take this," he ordered,
handing a strange, oblong object to Jim. He stepped away from the couch returning with a bottle of liquid
which Jim stared at, confused.

"Got a special audience for kinky performances," Cigar man blurted. Jim stared blankly at him, trying to
comprehend what he was saying.

"When we get a certain kind of boys, we make a second film…" Jim continued staring blankly. "More
money," He plainly stated, a leer on his round face.

Stepping away from the couch, he took up his position in front of the monitor again. He looked around
the room, a satisfied look on his face then with a gesture of his hand at Jim stated, "Go ahead."

Jim glared at him, looking first at the object then back up, even more confused. Frustrated, Cigar man
growled, "Put it in." Blinking, Jim glanced at the object, an inkling of what Cigar man was suggesting
surfacing causing him to frown. Cigar man huffed loudly then stood, just off camera.

"Put some lube on it and stick it up his ass!" He barked. "And you get up on your knees on the couch,"
He added, looking at Willie.

Willie’s eye’s widened and he gazed over his shoulder at the suggestion. Frightened, he looked at Jim, all
the while shaking his head no.

"Listen!" Cigar man roared. "You shouldn’t have signed that contract if you were going to change your
mind. Now, you can either do what I’m telling ya’, or I’ll have Zier do it!"

Cornered, Jim darted his eyes at the muscle bound man, then back at Cigar man. That sinking feeling
returning with a vengeance, he wondered just how bad things were going to get before it was over? Zier
trained an icy leer on him as if relishing the opportunity to pounce. Resigned, Jim surrendered, his
shoulders dropping.

"Com’on," He muttered to Willie, "I’ll do it easy." At Jim’s behest, Willie obeyed, climbing up on the
couch and lowered his head.

Cigar man sat in front of the monitor again, his cigar gnawed to a near nub now. "Action!" he barked and
all eyes were on the boys again. Jim glowered at each of them, then glanced down at Willie, his ass in the
air. This was the nasty shit he’d been warned about Gay men on the streets. The whispered stories about
things up your ass and how every Gay man was that way.

Now he was expected to do those vile things to his own best friend. Glancing back at the oblong object,
he fumbled it into position, assuming that the pointy end should go first. His hands trembling, he aimed it
at his buddy’s pin tight hole and pressed the tip against it.

"No!" Cigar man blurted. Huffing in frustration he motioned at the strange bottle of liquid.

Jim looked down at the bottle he’d previously laid aside then picked it up. Fumbling now with the cap, he
finally opened it and, with another confused look at Cigar man, held it over the oblong thing. A clear,
slippery substance streamed out of the bottle, dripping onto the oblong thing, some dripping on the couch.
Jim quickly held the bottle upright, still uncertain about what he was doing.

Placing the bottle aside once more, he stared at the oblong thing then finally it dawned on him to spread
the slippery stuff around. As it coated the surface of the strange, beige colored object, he slowly gathered
it was a lubricant. Aware that this substance may help, he additionally poured some between Willie’s
upturned cheeks.

He couldn’t bring himself to touch his homey’s asshole but did his best to pour enough down his valley to
get it around his hole. Finally, with another forlorn look at the men about the room, he raised the thing
again and aimed it at Willie’s hole.

"Do it slow," Willie counseled, just under his breath. Jim nodded, then applied pressure to drive the pointy
end forward.

Willie let out a hiss, and his hole literally contracted, clamping down tight. Jim looked helplessly at the
men as if to communicate it wasn’t possible but no one moved a muscle and he tried again. Applying
more pressure, he pushed forward until it spread Willie’s tight hole and slipped in about an inch. Willie
grunted then hissed air out between his clenched teeth, his face reddening.

Watching his buddy writhe and groan, he couldn’t take it. His hands loosening around the object, it
slipped out. For a long time, Jim let it rest, right at Willie’s opening then Cigar man snapped,

"Put it in or I’ll call Zier!"

Resigned, Jim tightened his hand about the device and increased the pressure once more. Resolved to just
get it over with, he bared down on the thingy, driving it forward again. Willie leaped forward, snatching
his seared asshole away from the invading object causing Jim to drop it. Plopping onto the couch, it lay
between Willie’s legs. Jim picked it up again, smearing the remaining lubricant around then placed it at
Willie’s hole again.

Willie let out a loud moan, punctuated with shrieks as he felt the unyielding thing probe his virgin asshole.
Grabbing handfuls of the cushions, he thrashed about as Jim pushed more inside. Jim literally had to hold
on to Willie’s gyrating hips to continue. Willie squealed again, more of the tube disappearing inside his
tight hole, then, miraculously the strange object stopped on it’s own and seated itself inside his friend’s
violated hole. Releasing it, Jim stared in wonder when it didn’t pop back out.

Pawing at the couch, Willie still hissed and writhed, his tight tube stretched around the strange thing’s
base. Jim couldn’t stop staring at it, the round base the only thing visible now. How’d it stay inside him
like that, he wondered?

"Ok, now you," Cigar man said. His head whipping wildly around, Jim gawked at the man, panicked.

Part III

Hearing Cigar man’s charge, Willie’s head shot up and he looked wild eyed at Jim. Like a cornered
animal, Jim’s eyes darkened, darting about the room. Willie knew that look meant trouble, he’d seen it
enough. Whipping his head about, he nervously observed the men to see what they’d do, concerned for
his friend.

Shaking his head no, Jim hopped off the couch and faced the men. Cigar man watched him with some
interest then, with a simple nod of his head, ordered Zier into action. In a single swoop, the brawny man
pounced on Jim, subduing him easily. Snarling and struggling, Jim swiped at the man who was pushing
him on to the couch. The struggle nearing him, Willie moved away from the couch, watching in horror as
Zier wrestled Jim into a kneeling position.

Somehow, that strange thingy stayed in his hole and, the whole time, he could feel it laying against that
bulge inside his chute. A hand reached out for him and he realized he’d backed across the room far
enough for Cigar man to reach him. Startled, he looked down and noticed that the lewd man had opened
his pants again. Before he could react, Cigar man pulled him on his lap and now he was sensing his rigid
member against his bare ass.

Jim was still grunting and struggling but he wasn’t strong enough to stop Zier and, despite his efforts, his
ass was now pointing upward and his head lay buried in the couch. Cigar man reached over and opened
his brief case again, all the while his other hand roving over Willie’s body. Extracting another oblong
thingy, he tossed it to Zier.

"Bend over," He told Willie, still digging around in his brief case.

His hand on Willie’s back, he pushed the boy over until the plug in his ass came into view. Distracted,
Willie stared at Jim, empathizing with how humiliating this must be for him. He didn’t even notice Cigar
man attaching the leads to a connection on the base of his anal plug.

Still watching Jim squirm and struggle, he suddenly felt a strange sensation inside his asshole. Cigar man
pulled him onto his lap again, an involuntary moan escaping him as the sensation strummed his asshole
even more. Confused, he glanced down at Cigar man who leered at him, his hand roving over the boy’s
slender torso again.

"Huh?" Cigar man said, nodding his head. "Good, huh?"

Willie was speechless, his dick extending wickedly hard. Cigar man’s hand slipped down his torso and
around the base of his stiff club. Moaning again, he threw his head back as that hand slid up his solid
length and fisted his oozing knob. What the fuck was that thing doing to him, he thought, his hips gyrating
lewdly? Then he heard a loud wail and his eyes flung open.

Swiping madly at his ass, Jim struggled in vain to prevent Zier from probing his tight hole. Grabbing both
of his hands, Zier held them behind his back, pinning the boy to the couch. His middle finger well lubed,
he inserted it inside Jim’s upturned hole.

That’s when he let out the loud wail. Willie watched, confused at how the merciless scene could prove
stimulating, his dick swelling in Cigar man’s hand. His back slightly arched, he marveled at the continued
stimulation of his spread asshole.

Cigar man slowed his stroking hand but Willie’s dick still pointed upwards. His head lolled back against
Cigar man’s shoulder, he was in a near trance. Every so often, he’d open his eyes to slits and peer at
Jim’s ordeal, only to find it made him hotter. He’d even fantasized a couple of times about the thingy in
his ass being Naked man’s big dick.

"I take it back!" Jim yelled. "I take it back! Fuck the contract," He bellowed, his head held against the
couch. Straining to look back at Cigar Man, he yelped, "You can keep the money!"

Naked man was holding up Jim’s butt thingy, the surface coated with the slippery stuff. Willie gazed at
them, helpless as Jim made more futile attempts to recant. The room went silent, save the fan, when
Naked man pressed the pointy end of the butt thingy to Jim’s hole. Jim crooked his head back further,
trying desperately to catch Cigar man’s eye. Knowing what was next, Willie watched for Jim’s reaction as
Naked man pushed forward with the oblong object.

A look of anguish suddenly on his face, Jim thrashed about, protesting as the pointy thing pierced his
virgin asshole. When it started slipping deeper, he let out another, frustrated wail. His asshole was no
match for the object, spreading wider to accommodate the thing’s wide base.

Lurching about, Jim’s wail became an anguished bellow as the plug popped in place, seating itself inside
his abnormally spread passage. His ass bobbing about in a futile attempt to expel the object, Willie gazed
at it, Jims round cheeks strangely attractive.

"Take it out!" Jim yelled, straining to reach his hands toward his ass.

Zier muttered something in their language and Cigar man stopped fondling Willie’s body long enough to
retrieve a pair of hand cuffs. He tossed them to Zier then resumed touching and fondling Willie’s chest
and sensitive nipples.

Locking Jim’s hands in the cuffs, Zier held him down with just a hand to his back. He looked up at Cigar
man rattling off a litany of words. Cigar man replied in kind, his words reverberating about his large chest,
echoing against Willie’s back. Sensing his muscular chest against his back, Willie felt a ripple run down his
back, circling his stimulated hole.

Cameras were trained on Jim’s plugged ass, as well as lights, following Zier’s commands. He stood on his
knees, directing the men as he stayed near Jim.

"And now, our feature film," Cigar man whispered, strumming his hand up Willie’s nervous dick. Willie
peered at this trussed up boy, his street buddy and couldn’t get past how delicious his ass looked. Did he
always have a round ass like that? He pondered, gazing at the boy’s smooth cheeks.

Jim tried to raise his head but could see little. Had he been able to see his buddy, sitting on the vile man’s
lap, his dick throbbing erect, he would’ve no doubt freaked. Zier pushed his head back down and Jim
prayed they weren’t doing Willie as bad as they were doing him.

Suddenly, he felt a strange sensation, deep inside his asshole. Writhing about, he clenched his ass
muscles, which only increased the sensations. That thing they’d shoved up him was vibrating or
something. But there was something else. As he involuntarily writhed and squeezed his asshole, the thing
was… making him hard.

Cocking his head curiously, Jim tried to comprehend what was happening. Was this what it meant to be
"turned out"? Was this why nigga’s that’d been locked up sometimes come home swishing? An overload
of stimulation assaulting him, he let out a long, audible exhalation.

He fought the urge to moan and whale like a bitch in heat but the thing was making him crazy, the way it
throbbed and sent chills up his spine. His dick, of its own volition, extended, elongating until it hung hard
between his legs.

"You see," Cigar man said, loud enough for Jim to hear, "there’s a star for every movie."

"Do him?" Zier inquired.

Cigar man shook his head. "He will do himself," He explained.

Despite the nasty men’s smug observations, Jim felt his balls churning. The thing hummed inside him,
rattling his defenses. His dick spearing downward, it twitched and swelled. Squeezing the thing with his
ass muscles again, Jim did moan this time.

Jim’s dick was an added attraction, Willie’s eyes traveled back and forth between it and his upturned ass.
Did he want to fuck his homey? With Cigar man’s hand between his legs, diddling that spot between his
asshole and his balls, he couldn’t think straight.

Instead, he spread his legs wider. Cigar man’s fingers were very talented, discovering every hot spot
between his legs. Willie lolled his head back again, his hips gyrating as Cigar man probed and fondled him.
He’d just shot off a load no more than thirty minutes ago but his balls were swiftly working up on
another, to his surprise.

Soft moans and muffled hisses ringing his ears, he cracked his eyes open, glancing over at Jim. Zier was
turning a dial on the device that connected to Jim’s butt thingy and as he turned it apparently higher, Jim
hissed and moaned more. His dick snapped upwards at irregular intervals, the head wickedly swollen, his
balls pulled tight.

His asshole twitched and contracted, pulling his balls even tighter each time while his body obviously
gyrated. Was it feeling as good to him as it was his own hole, Willie wondered, squeezing his plug?

Towering between his legs like a meaty javelin, his dick throbbed, the head flaring. Cigar man increased
his pleasure, agitating the plug in his ass, pushing ever so often at it. As it wedged further inside him, he
felt a surge of sensations causing his toes to wiggle. Cigar man peered around him to look at his dick,
smiling when he saw how hard it was.

"Saud," Cigar man called, motioning one of the camera men towards Willie.

Oblivious to the attention directed at him, Willie’s concentration centered on the plug, prodding his
twitching prostate. Cigar man called out more commands, directing Saud’s camera to the best position to
capture Willie’s writhing body.

His head thrown back, Willie sighed heavily, bundles of muscles supporting his upright column
contracting, his toes dancing. Unassisted and untouched, his dick recoiled, firing off a heavy dollop of boy
cream. An anguished moan escaping him, Willie trembled, his toes pointing downward as more cum
rocketed from his swollen head, raining down in cascading freshets about his groin.

Gushing like a geyser, his dick convulsed and pumped, the camera catching it all. His budding chest,
topped with two, darting boy nipples. His convulsing, taut stomach, his svelte waist and boy bush, just
atop his still spewing dick. His smooth, long legs, gyrating hips and bouncing boy balls, nothing was
spared, the camera selfishly taking it all for itself.

As he slowly came down he squeezed his ass muscles, moaning softly to the never ending sensations.
Cum dribbling down the side of his rigid pole, it dripped off his taut balls, pooling on the floor beneath
them. His dick still quivering, it writhed and throbbed, wringing out a few last drops.

A loud gasp ringing out, all eyes turned to the couch where Jim lay squatted down on his knees, his head
pressed to the cushions while his ass thrust upwards, pointing towards the ceiling. The protruding base of
the butt plug bobbing to and fro, Jim let out smothered groans, every time his ass muscles tugged at it.
Faintly audible buzzing sounds emanating from his upturned ass, his butt plug had apparently been dialed
up rather high.

Jim let out another grudging groan and the plug bobbled again, the motor’s hum changing pitch as it
danced. It would hum then change to a low whine when Jim tugged at it. Willie tugged at his butt plug,
sensing the ceaseless prodding of his itching prostate but could hear nothing from his. How high must
Jim’s thingy be running, he reasoned, watching the way the boy writhed and let out forced grunts?

His dick whipping upwards then pointing down, Jim’s toes folded back on his soles as his ass worked the
whirring protrusion. The cameraman that’d been taping Willie’s robust orgasm turned, pointing his camera
between Jim’s legs. Through his lens, he watched the boy’s slender, hairless legs, his round, well spread
ass cheeks, his wrinkled yet taut balls, hardly a hair on them as they pulled close to his equally hairless
groin and his violated hole, yanking greedily at the instrument.

The room frozen, everyone watched in amazement as the here-to-fore virgin grunted and groaned,
massaging the foreign apparatus with his tight hole. Yanking harder and faster on the plug, Jim sighed and
moaned, biting at the couch. Burring angrily the six inch probe danced about, buried inside the writhing
boy.

His toes wiggling and spreading, Jim cried out, his dick whip-snapping wildly upwards. Bobbing just
beneath his rippling stomach, it looked like a missile, prepared to launch. From everyone’s perspective in
the room, they saw Jim’s asshole, still twitching and gripping at its new love handle, his churning balls,
pulled so tight, they almost looked like one sac, and just the bottom of his upraised boy tool.

Waiting on baited breath for the inevitable, the cameras tightened their focus while Zier and Cigar man
stroked their leaking tools. Pitching and writhing like a bucking bronco, Jim let out a yell that reverberated
about the huge building.

"Ooooh! Oh shit!" He bellowed, his asshole squeezing mightily on the plug. Shaking and trembling, he
bore down, slamming the whirring instrument against his assaulted prostate, another yell ringing out, then,
his dick popped up even higher and blasted out a long stream of hot, creamy cum.

Screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs, Jim had never felt a nutt like this. All those times he’d
ducked away from his friends to stroke his impatient tool combined together wouldn’t have even touch it,
he reasoned, another torrent of searing cum ripped from his balls.

Like a rapid fire rifle his dick kept firing, each time another gush of pent up cum spewing out. His
undulating ass muscles still rubbing the butt plug against his prostate, they refused to let go. Over and over
his rigid yardstick released, pelting the couch with potent rounds of white cum. In a matter of seconds
there was an intricate pattern of criss-crossing boy cum.

Zier let out a gasp, his eyes locked on the boy’s violent release, his own dick spurting madly. Behind him,
Willie heard Cigar man hiss and groan, almost immediately sensing a hot, wetness against his back. Jim
was still convulsing, his dick essentially firing blanks now but he didn’t stop. Wringing out the last vestiges
of his unbelievable climax, he wailed and whimpered.

Epilogue

“Pump yo’ gas mista?” Paralleling the swift moving patron, Jim followed until the man reluctantly reached
in his pocket and handed him some change. Jim smiled at Willie, sprinting over to him as they eagerly
counted the money.

Weeks had passed since their ordeal, not a word spoken between them about it save their gleeful divvying
up the money from Cigar man. Something had changed between them however. There was a knowing
that, though they were loathed to admit it, hounded them. And on a day, not unlike that day several
weeks before, a strange man sidled up to them, a slight leer on his face as he inquired, “You boys
interested in making some real money?” They stared at him aghast, mouths dropped opened.

Jim looked up at him, the loud report of passing police car’s siren causing him to look away. He looked at
Willie then hunched his shoulders.

“Ok,” Willie answered in a low, monotone voice.

“Great!” The man said, heading for his car.

Jim looked at Willie, squeezed in the front seat with him then out the window, his heart pounding.
Familiar feelings that’d been suppressed for the past weeks jumping between them, his mouth felt dry
while his palms sweated. A smug smirk on his face, Willie pressed his hand between them until it wedged
beneath Jim’s thigh.

“So, how old are you?” The man asked. His balls now in Willie’s clutches, Jim couldn’t say anything.

“14,” Willie replied, groping Jim’s package. “He’s 15,” He said, motioning at Jim whose eyes were
closed.

“Will you sign a contract?” For the first time, Jim spoke up, his voice strangled.

“Yes!” He grunted, a wicked bulge in his pants.

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