The Asylum 5

NOTICE: All the Standard warnings about being of age, being aware of your community standards apply to the following story! Please read no further if you are underage 18/21--or live in a conservative area--or are offended by explicit sexual stories. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to anyone is strictly coincidental.

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Playroom No. 1

Two nights later Mr. Velasquez and I, joined by Ian's girlfriend Alexis, were in Playroom No. 1 after a satisfying dinner. Carlos Hernandez, a Puerto Rican hoodlum from the streets of Brooklyn was strapped sitting face up leaning backwards with his back supported by a padded bench. His legs were pulled back behind him, and tethered to the legs of the bench support, and his arms were tied down toward his legs. Thus his chest was thrust out, and his knees were slightly spread by a short extension of the bench between his legs.

Carlos was 6'1", 185 lbs, with a 9 inch thin, curved cock with a slender, delicate foreskin over the tip that only retracted to the edge of the glans. He did not actually suffer from pimosis, but it was close. The orderlies loved getting a small brush inside that skin to clean out the smegma, while Carlos cursed and groaned, springing an instant boner. Carlos had green eyes, honey skin, and a black mustache and goatee that made him look tough and sexy. Under his arms was a dense black bush, like the one above his cock, and under his balls and deep into the groove of his ass crack. His arms and legs were covered with a curcly black hairs that made his wiry frame seem thicker and more muscular.

The support bench extension between Carlos legs had a hole for a mechanical dildoe. The slender dildoe had been carefully and gently wound up into the 24 year old's asshole. The vibrator was off, so the only discomfort was the small, blunt head of the dildoe with its bumpy surface resting against the young man's prostrate. A long stream of precum drooled from the wide piss lips down the curving stalk of Carlos' erect prong, shinning as it coated his fat, oversized balls hanging down between his legs. His long toes pointed back-wards, and the pale soles of his well shaped feet were exposed.

Carlos had been a cocky, headstrong street punk who made other boys kiss his ass, suck his cock when he wanted to humiliate them, and who made girls squeal when his ever-hard boner scrubbed their clits. He was known to fuck for an hour, keeping girls dazed and spent, before he would load their cunts with his endless streams of tangy Puerto Rican gism. He enjoyed taking girls out to fancy restaurants and using his callused, long fuck-finger to jerk them off under the table while others eating their meals were oblivious to his actions. Once he even paid a young waiter to sit them in a corner, and then later sneak under the full length table cloth to lick his date's blond pussy to several excruciating orgasms. He loved to have the girls suck his ass-hole through the thick, dark bush in his cleft. Their dainty tongues would tickle his hole so much, it was the one thing that made him lose control, while their small hands milked his prong into huge cums. He kept his chief assistant in their local street gang under his control because the boy quietly worshipped his perfect body, and would suck his dick till it shot thick wads of gism down his throat after Carlos had already fucked some girl for the night, and his prick smelled of cunt. I liked seeing his eyes wide with fear as I approached, begging me in Spanish to free him...he would give me anything I wanted. I smiled at him and said back to him in Spanish, "Carlos, I've got what I want..." His eyes would close, and he would whine and whimper, a far cry from the arrogant young tough who had called me names and threatened my life when he first arrived.

Velasquez sat in a overstuffed chair, his dick up Alexis' twat, her hands cinched behind her back. Her long nipples that loved to be tweaked and pinched were being plucked by Velasquez's rough fingers with one hand, while the fingers of the other flicked and rolled her long, erect, clit. She squealed and burped more cunt juice each time his dick stem slid up and down, which just slicked up our host's long prong as it reamed her out. He was here to watch me master Carlos and reduce our street punk into a whimpering slave, and for Carlos to see another man with a woman, a privilege he would not enjoy for some time except when he sucked out the cum of other men from twats presented to him.

A rival gang member had 'sold' us Carlos. He gave us information on drug deals in which Carlos had participated. We knew local law enforcement would turn a blind eye to his disappearance since his arrogant defiance had stuck in their craw for two years. One night, while Carlos and his assistant were in Carlos' bedroom, we sprung our trap. At the time, Carlos had his long legs wrapped around the head of Miguel, while the younger man had the steel hard dick deep in his throat, milking the prong towards a giant ejaculation. As Carlos' chest heaved, and his small tight ass ground all around the dirty sheets, dragging Miguel's suctioning mouth with him, he closed his eyes cursing and swearing in Spanish, calling Miguel every name he could spit out, eyes closed and cock tingling, the men descended upon them. Miguel was easy to get tied and gagged, but Carlos fought like a banshee, especially since his aching prong had been deprived of its sweet cum. But a little ether, and the strong arms and training of Velasquez's men had the two secured in the van in minutes, ready for their trip to the Island.

Miguel was broken in days, and now spends his nights serving the guards. Carlos, took weeks, but each session was sweet, finding new ways to drive the overheated punk into bursting ejaculations that he seemed incapable of stopping.

I walked up to Carlos, and let his eyes grow wide with fear as he watched me unwind and withdraw the dildo, then grease it. The dildoe's surface was ribbed with rubber spikes, even around the head, but I added a bristle ring just around the flange of the fake prick tip. Then I knelt between his legs, and while he watched and babbled his desire to do anything if I would just spare him the bristles, I prepared to do just the opposite. Slowly and very gently, I re-inserted the wicked French tickler up his bung hole through the hole in the stand between his legs, so the sensation would not be too much to bear. His muscles tightened and strained trying to avoid the awful itching, then I screwed the base into the flange set in the stand. If he didn't move, Carlos was safe, sweat pouring off his fearful body, tits up and pointy.

I walked up to his chest, and began a slow gentle scratching and rolling of the rubbery, brown teats. Already stiff, they reddened, and while I leaned over to tongue, suck, and bite one, I wet my fingers with spit, and rolled scratched, and rubbed the other. Carlos' cock stiffened and drooled even more, his nipples acting like electric wires to his prick. Somewhere inside this boy liked having his body used, and his young cock was insatiable, constantly craving anything that would help it ejaculate. At the same time, he was now subject to control by others, in the same way he had subjected others. Plus, he was rarely allowed to cum. He was kept constantly horny and stimulated, but his dick was denied any pleasure except to meet the needs of the Asylum's visitors and clientele.

While rolling his titties, I spread my fingers on the other hand and placed them gently on his abs. The taut, ribbed muscles of his stomach were smooth, vulnerable and desperately ticklish. I drew the fingers together, and let my nails slowly scratch his taut belly. Then, without warning, I made my fingers into claws and rolled and scratched them over his exposed flesh. He yowled, and then broke out into panting, screaming laughter...."no mas, no mas,....iiiiiiyyyyyyeeeee, eeeeeeyyyyyyyiiiiiiiii, fuckkkkkkshitttttttt, I keeeeeelllllll you, oooooohhhhh, no mas! no maaaaaaaassssssss!"

The tickling of his stomach had caused him to grind his ass, and suddenly the bristles began to do their thing. For good measure, I stoked my other hand into his armpit, scratching my nails along his ribs and into his pits. Within a minute, he had started to bounce on the dildoe and could not stop. For a moment I thought of clipping the tip of his prick and slender foreskin to prevent his ejaculation. But hell, why not just watch him wear himself out.

After five minutes of the merciless bristles roving back and forth and up and down, scratching the tender lining of his ass, and the spikes on the plastic head grinding against his prostrate, the young Latino burst into a monster ejaculation. His head was thrown back, stretched back towards his arms and feet, and his long, slender prick curved up and out obscenely, the thin foreskin drawn back to the edge of his bulging crown, the fat knob swollen and stiff, ready to pop. His wide piss lips split and out bolted steams of thick cum, white,, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight long arching shots, finally becoming a runny, white starchy cream drooling over his still hard fuck stick. No hand had rubbed and relieved the swollen prick, just the helpless firing of the gism caused by the irritating bristles.

"Aaaaahhhhhhgggg...aaaaaaiiiiiiiieeeeeee, ooooooooooohhhhhhh nnnoooo, pleeeeeezzzzeee....mmmeeeeeeessssssster, nooooo maaaaaasss, pleeeeeeze, nnnooooooo mooooorreeee."

I smiled and whispered into his ear, as I wet my fingertips and wet back to plucking and rolling his tits. "Carlos, see how your ass keeps grinding on that dildo. I know why. Those bristles won't stop tickling, they just keep scratching and itching...don't they?" His eyes were closed, and his breaths were still coming in gasps, but he would wince each time his ass rested on the plank between his thighs, meaning that the head of the dildo was still prodding his prostrate, and the bristles were making him move back and forth.

I reached between his legs, and turned the knob at the end of the dildoe. Suddenly his eyes opened wide and he looked at me in fear. "Nooooooooo,... Madre de Dios!.....aaaaaaiiiiiiiiyyyyyeeeeeeeee...." He moved his head back and forth quickly, begging as he more! I had switched on the vibrator to the low setting. The humming and buzzing was now added, and the area where the bristles were located began to rotate slowly first in one direction, then back in the other. The vibrating buzzing, added to the insidious rotation of the bristles and the prodding of his joy button were driving the Puerto Rican to distraction. The boy could not help himself. His dick had not been massaged into submission, and days of hard-ons without relief made him go stiff and horny. His dick hardened and his ass moved. Carlos was on his way to a second ejaculation. Athough it took about fifteen minutes, eventually there were four shorter spurts of cum and more drooling...and a still unsatisfied cock.

Mr. Velasqeuz pinched and tickled Alexis to four big spends on his rummaging dick until he finally shot her cunt full of gism. She was a moaner, and each time she came, Carlos could hear her swearing and squealing, as her clit went rock hard and streams of cunt juice dripped between her legs and onto Mr. Velasquez balls and into the crack of his ass.

After her fourth spend, we strapped her down on a high leather table on wheels, that could split into a "Y" stretching her legs apart, which were then secured along with the rest of her body. We wheeled her up to Carlos face, so that her wet, scummy pussy was at the exact level of his mouth. He was delirious from the insane tickling up his butt, yet he understood us when we told him he would have to suck the cum out of Alexis' cunt, and make her cum before we would remove the dildoe. Mr. Velasquez turned the vibrator up to high as an incentive, and we both jerked off watching Carlos long, limber tongue lapping the mixture of cunt juice and sperm out of Alexis' pussy. She groaned in appreciation as his tongue soothed the tender lips that Velasquez boner had pounded for almost an hour, and with some electric clips attached to her long nipples, and slender, knobby, vibrating dildo up her rectum, she was soon juicing for Carlos, allowing the sperm to slop out onto his tongue. Soon the pussy hole opened, and Carlos, his eyes bulging, glued his lips to the trough in order to trowel out the cum and vibrate his nose against her swollen, spasming clit.

When Velasquez and I turned up the electric current on her tits, Alexis ground her hips against Carlos mouth to one more huge orgasm, and as she came, we looked under her cart to see Carlos join her, leaking streams of gism from his own over-wrought cock, having his last ejaculation of the afternoon. He passed out, and felt nothing as we turned off the dildoe, and unscrewed it from his butt. There was no blood, but we knew from the experience of boys before him that it would be a couple of days before he no longer felt like an army of ants were not running up and down his guts, chewing, biting, and stinging him.

I licked his dick until I had cleaned up every last remaining clot of cum, and noticed that like the boy-man we expected, his cock still stayed half hard. I was determined to spend an evening with Carlos tethered firmly on my lap while I masturbated him till he could not cum again, using my fist and palm to gently and firmly roll that tight foreskin back and forth on his long, leaky cock and it fat knob. Here was a man made to cum, and made to be made to cum. But tomorrow when he awoke with a straining erection, he would remember that his dick has spent without anyone touching it. The tickling, tingling need to have some friction on his fuck pole would help us keep him hard for more days until we had decided to find another way to make him cum without the full relief. When I finally had him on my lap, I would have to use a bristle glove to work that fat knob on the end of the slender prong, driving him insane with sensation as he finally got the touch for which his renegade dick constantly craved. Latin boys like Carlos were cum factories, and big hanging balls and rigid stalk were added attractions. Velasquez had not decided yet whether Carlos would ever be freed, or he would be sold to one of our Eastern European clients who longed to have young Hispanic men for their pleasure. It was up to Carlos and whether he ever learned to be humble and disciplined.

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