The Masturbation Chronicles, Tale No. 4b -- Security Guard Tony Bruno’s Capture

Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story is for adults, and contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys with older men. This story is completely fiction, all descriptions and names are also made up, and any similarities are truly just that, purely similarities. I do not engage in or condone sexual activity between adults and underage boys which is regulated by law. These are fantasies for sexual private sexual enjoyment, not for emulation in real life.

This current series is entitled “The Masturbation Chronicles” and will be a series of discreet stories focused around the theme of uncontrollable masturbation and its consequences. I would truly appreciate suggestions from others for scenes or settings, and of course descriptions of real scenes. Often my stories have been woven from tales shared with me by those of you who comment on my stories. So please consider writing to me.

My stories are posted on, and on, and on Nifty. I would appreciate comments on my writing. I certainly admire the good writers on the web, and consider myself still a learner. Please contact me at [email protected]. They stories posted under the name of Glaucon55 or written by him are all his work product and may only be published on other sites or anywhere else, with his permission.

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A day later I got some disturbing news from my local operative who assists me in my work. It turned out that the three local cops, Dom Morelli, Chet Daniels and Rick Hamilton, had decided after Tony’s capture that they wanted out of our deal, perhaps fearful that one of them would be the next catch. These straight cops had enjoyed a complete quid pro quo, getting to stay with their pussy and casual sexual encounters as long as they did as I requested. Fuck, they rarely were asked to do anything, but it seems that even this infringement on their ‘cock of the walk’ worlds was too much. Outside of Tony, they had only delivered three other men, a young, unattached construction worker, a black martial arts instructor, and a visiting young tourist from Serbia. Each had been captured, prepared and shipped to a client abroad. Now ‘my cops’ confronted and threatened my operative while I was working to prepare Tony for his delivery, saying they would expose the whole operation if we didn’t back off and let them out of their roles in the operation. They had tracked my man down, and taken pictures of him, and obtained video of some suspicious surveillance work he was doing for me. For this, they wanted the pictures and vids we had of them, and were willing to call it even. When I heard this I laughed out loud, and then narrowed my eyes, turning my smile to a sneer. They would regret they had ever tried to cross me.

I went for their weak link, the big dicked Rick Hamilton, the only one with a family. I sent to his home an envelope addressed to him with a video of his twelve year old son in the shower, soaping his thick 5.5 inch boner to a dry cum. I enclosed pictures of Rick himself with one of Dom’s slut hookers, fucking her deep and hard. I asked rhetorically whether his wife would like to see both, but in the context of maybe his son would end up on my list of potential commodities for sale abroad. Rick called me immediately, and at first tried to put up a brave front; to sound tough. But as I went over my list of potential buyers who would love a twelve year old blond pre-teen, he broke down and cried, and begged me not to hurt his family. I told him I would only consider his request if he helped me ensure that he, Dom and Chet would never try a stunt like this again. He sobbed and said he would… cursing me but pleading for mercy. I’d never seen Rick as anything but a tough, hard nosed cop, but his love for his son was so deep that he could not tempt fate. He chose to surrender rather than risk my wrath…a good choice, but frankly, he did not realize that what he was surrendering to was not a return to the status quo, but a new relationship between the three of them and me.

I persuaded Rick to invite the two other cops for a weekend of fishing out at his cabin, in the secluded back country in the hills. He told his buddies that I had contacted him with a proposal and I wanted to share the details with them over the weekend. They readily agreed, crowing as if they had secured victory, and even packed some new porn vids to screen while they drank and circle jerked at night. Dom had offered to bring a couple of girls, but Rick told him no, this was boys weekend out and they did not want to risk any further ammunition on my part. Little did they realize how truthful he was being, about the ‘boy’s weekend’, little did he realize it himself.

Arriving at the cabin, they drank, fished at the nearby lake, cooked a meal and then drank and watched the porn they had brought. Me and my men watched discreetly from a distance, waiting for the right time. When they awoke from the Friday night revelries, they were all three bound on their knees, heads down, arms cuffed elbow to elbow behind them, gagged, and with spreader bars keeping their legs apart, lined up in a row on the California King bed in the master bedroom. While they had been out fishing, my men had injected their beer with ‘mickeys’ ensuring a long, deep night’s sleep, conscious of nothing. When they awoke they all groaned into their gags, loudly bellowing and flashing eyes filled with anger and indignation. God I love straight men…they are so dense. These jack-asses didn’t get it…they were helpless and had been duped by their own arrogance. But here they were, naked as jay-birds, bound and gagged, and acting as if they were in charge, like they could make demands. I raised my slapper that looked like a small-faced fly-swatter, but was electrified so that it not only left a little red impression of its grid where it hit, but delivered a smart little electric shock to accompany it. My first blow landed on Dom’s pale, hairy and firm 31 year old ass. He wailed into his gag, and his eyes teared, making Rick whose face was staring at him turn red with fear, and his eyes go wide. They were going to be tortured! The next strike was on Chet’s white, smooth ass cheek, and the following one on Rick’s hairy tanned ass. I gave them each five swats, smack, smack, smack, eliciting roars of fearful anger, but causing more embarrassment than damage. A couple of the swats curled into their respective cracks, giving a sweet little sting to their sensitive, private anal slits. The shocks caused an involuntary physical response, and on top of the brief pain and embarrassment, there was physical betrayal. With tears dripping down each face, but surprisingly with two full erections (Chet and Dom), and one semi-erection (Rick), I felt I had tapped into the Marine mentality in all three of these dumb jock uniform punks. Then I spoke.

“You fuckheads thought you’d put it to me, huh? You thought you’d make me quiver and roll over. Well, thank you for reminding me that no one is reliable in this business unless you have him completely locked down. So that’s what we’re going to do this weekend, lock you boys down once and for all. And when I’m through, you’re going to live different lives, and you’re still going to do everything I ask, when I ask, with no questions asked. That was almost poetic wasn’t it…well, a lot more charming than this weekend will be for you, much less in the future.”

The pictures and vids of each of them sucking dick, licking each other’s assholes, sucking the toes of my colleague they had tried to blackmail, with cum on their faces and lips, in bondage with dildos up their asses, their faces prominently displayed and a cobbled recording of them saying things like “fuck me…”, “make me cum…” was showed to them before they left that weekend. Each was given his own personal copy, and as they sat there, dark glasses covering their beaten and defeated countenance, I laid out the new rules. They had all been fitted with cock restraints…mesh pouches with small titanium padlocks that would allow them to piss, and to erect full enough to leak pre-cum and strain for more. But that was it, they could not achieve full erection and would be held on a tantalizing plane, so close to relief, but unable to achieve it. But the real kicker was who was in charge. I made my deputy, Rick’s son Buddy!

I explained to Rick that the only way he, Dom and Chet were going to get out of this without the world knowing of their pictures and videos was if he allowed me to make Buddy my ‘overseer’ for them. He would be trained to manage the three cops cocks and asses, and he would make sure that they followed my strict “medical” regimen. Now Buddy was no naïve kid. He had been around the pool with the thee cops when they had talked cunt and fucked around. On more than one occasion he watched as the big dicked cops had sprung erections by the pool, and more. He seen his Dad fuck one of the hookers when his mom was away, and watched transfixed at some of the weekend parties they had held, when girls sucked dick, and were fucked all over the house, in the pool and hot tub, and even under the cabana. In addition, Dom liked to give Buddy rides on his hog, and each time he did, Buddy would slide his slender arms around Dom’s big body, usually starting with under his leather jacket at his chest, finding Dom’s hard, rubbery teats through the materials of his shirts and t-shirts and would scratch his fingernails across them until they were stiff tacks. Oh, he didn’t make it obvious, but with Dom controlling the bike, Buddy’s scrabbling fingers always seemed to find the sensitive nubbins under Dom’s jacket, and made sure his fingertips danced across them enough to make them respond like the little whorish tits they were. Before these motor cycle rides would end, he would occasionally slide one hand down to Dom’s thighs and search out his huge cock knob under the rough material. On at least three rides, he as scratched his fingernail against Dom’s rigid prick knob just enough to make the Italian cop squirt gism into his briefs, once so much so that it wet through the denim and left a huge stain. But Dom never said anything to Buddy…it was just a guy thing.

One time, when Dom was drunk and off-duty, he had taken Buddy into the toilet at the boy’s house after a ride during which he had not ejaculated. Under the guise of educating Buddy about sex and manhood, he unzipped and let the young boy see his hard erect shaft with its delicate and wet foreskin, clinging to the bulging glans. He slurred his way through the lesson, using his big hands and calloused fingers to slide the sticky foreskin up and over the drooling knob, teasing the tender piss lips basted in his slimy, pre-fuck. Then, in a gesture of magnanimity he invited Buddy, whose wide eyes had been fixed on Dom's wanking hand, to masturbate him into the toilet so he could see how it would be “when he grew up.” Dom leaned over the toilet, one hand bracing himself against the wall while the other slipped into his shirt and flicked at his own nipples, his head thrown back with his eyes closed, panting, as Buddy’s soft fingers frigged him. His hips involuntarily thrust towards the boys determined manipulation, making the now loose foreskin slip up and over his expanding, itchy knob, milking out gobs of lube to tickle the huge glans. It took about ten minutes, but Dom eventually spread and buckled his legs from the delicious sensations, his hard shaft sticking out like a baby's arm from between his legs, its oversized head expanded and smooth, then shot seven thick, long streams of spooge from his flared piss lips into the toilet bowl grunting and groaning. His head turned back and forth from the lovely sensation of the soft hands continuing to frig him as wave after wave of the ejacuation overtook his body. Finally he let out a deep whine and hunched over from the maddening sensations of the boy’s fingers still dancing over his now spent cock knob. But Buddy did not stop, his little hand showing unusal strength by clinging and wringing the fat cock tip, until he had worked that sensitive, fat glans to squeeze out as much Dom spunk as he could. Buddy was entranced with Dom’s huge Italian sausage, and its delicate olive foreskin covering the nine inch, olive colored shaft with its obscenely bloated knob. He was also fascinated by how much pre-cum Dom could leak…so much that the beefy Italian cop could ruin a new pair of briefs the first time out, making it look old and worn from the stiff, yellow stains.

Buddy had seen his dad screw his mom, and also some of the girls that Dom and Chet had brought into the house on selected weekend trysts late at night. As he watched, his own stiff boy boner would throb, almost hurting from its rigidity. The sight of his Dad’s 8” prick, with its own fat knob, sluicing into a sticky cunt, getting gripped and molested by the soft vices of women’s pussy lips and their tight cunt muscles, mimicked his own gripping fist, sliding over his feverish pricklet and using his pre-teen boy leak to lubricate his pistoning fist. His Dad loved cunt, and would drive his hard stake in and out, for what seemed like forever, drilling the pussy de jour relentlessly, and rasping clits till women wailed with pleasure. Then he would shoot a bucket of thick, white sperm into rubbers and cunts. On more than one occasion, Buddy had recovered his Dad’s full condoms sticky and exuding a strong scent like bleach, from the trash basket near the bed, wrapped in a tissue to barely hide them. When he could get the still full, fresh rubbers after his Dad had gone away, or after he had passed out after the party fucks and the girl was cleaning up in the bathroom, he would steal back to his own room with the prize. There he would sniff the pungent starchy, bleachy odor of his Dad’s cum, and then use it to lubricate his own stiff prod as he masturbated furiously to a dry cum after dry cum. Sometimes he would just lean back, his briefs at his ankles, and grap his thick, fat knobbed pricklet and roil his sperm soaked fist over and over the knob until he squealed through his own dry cum. Fuck, he loved the scent of his Dad's gism. Other times, he would slide the full rubber over his five inch pre-teen cudgel and would fuck his own bed, using a towel to protect the sheets. Like a chip off the old block, Buddy's strong glutes would drip his boy spike into the rubber and against the towel covered bed, rasping the sticky rubber over his sensitive prick knob until the senseless fucking produced the desired dry cum. The sensation of that wet rubber, lubricated by the sticky spunk, would tickle and tease his fat cock knob and make him grind it into the bed ruthlessly, over and over, until his body began to shake and buck from the delicious sensations. Fuck he loved making his pricklet throb and pulse over and over. He had actually frigged himself that way twice and three times in a row…his stiff little spike staying hard through the dry cums, and his youthful, pre-ejaculatory physiogamy allowing him to work him to cum after cum. Usually after the second one though, he couldn’t even touch his cock head…it was soooooo sensitive, but his desire to get the tingly feeling was too strong and his libido, like his Dad’s was always in overdrive.

Buddy had only seen Chet screw one of the women they had brought over to the house, and watched him masturbate once after one of the pool parties in the shower near the pool. There was a window in the basement where a large, clear glass shower stall was located, to air out the room, and Buddy made sure it was open so he could sneak behind the bushes at the side of the house where he could not be seen. He would hide and stare through the window as both Dom and Chet cleaned up, showered, and changed in that bathroom, always touching their handsome bodies and preening in front of the big mirror. Chet had a nine inch prick also, but it curved wickedly to the right, and up, with a fat flared knob. The coronal lips that spread from his circumcision scar were so wide, that Buddy wondered what it felt like to have a cock like that and feel a cunt or a palm slide over and over those sensitive lobes. Fuck….he masturbated into the grass, grinding his pricklet through his pants and into the soft ground as he stared at Chet jerk his fat boner. The big blond's hairy fist would close around the curved shaft and slide up and over the thick piss lips, making Chet hunch each time his calloused fist made contact. He could drive himself wild, roiling his fist over and over the circumsicion scar and torquing over the fat knob, milking it and making himself grunt for up to twenty minutes at a time. When he would finally cum, like Dom, he would hunch and his knees would buckle in the stall as he shot wads of thick cop scum against the shower wall, often pinching his own tits…and even tickling into his exposed asshole to touch the private male sanctuary of his anus. It was a sight that made Buddy's boy prick strum against his jeans and the ground, as the waves of sensation sent goosebumps over his skin and blood rush to his head.

Now, Buddy was in charge of each of the twice monthly milking sessions I had established and scheduled for these same cops. That was to be there new life. They would live day in and day out as the macho cops who they loved to be and others expected. But now their pricks were permanently secured from their own control. If they wanted to fuck their wives, they had to obtain permission, and have Buddy lower their pants and briefs, then unlock their cock restraints. Nothing was automatic, or natural, but they had to make it appear to be so. The humiliation of being pantsed by a teenage boy, who would handle their sweaty, horny pricks and balls, while they placed their hands behind their heads, was almost too much to bear. But there was no choice, especially for Buddy's Dad Rick who feared what might happen to his son. The only other relief these pea-brained cops were allowed was at Buddy’s hands...the days of their casual sex and twice daily ejaculations was a thing of the past.

The pool parties were replaced by Buddy’s milking sessions planned by my assistant. My operative would schedule and supervise, and Buddy would carry out the day’s regimen. The first ever session began with the three officers stripped naked in one of the “slut” positions we utilized for our captives. All three were on their backs on the California King bed in Rick Hamilton’s bedroom. His wife was away at her sister’s for the day, so Buddy would have an unrestricted time frame to accomplish his task. All three men’s wrists were tethered to their ankles, which were also spread apart and attached to a three foot spreader barat the ankles. The tension forced their knees up to their chests, exposing their ass cracks, big, hanging balls and long dicks. Sloped pillow bolsters were placed under their asses to support them, and keep their big feet flapping up in the air. They were naked and embarrassed to be exposed together, as well as to Buddy’s eyes. All three were gagged. My young operative sat in a chair in the corner, occasionally filming, while Buddy carried out the instructions that we had rehearsed previously.

First thing, I had him take each of their temperatures using a rectal thermometer. Now of course, there was no medical character to this session, but I created that fiction for Buddy so he would not feel as uncomfortable as he might otherwise. I explained to him that each of the officers was part of a special program being funded by law enforcement, and that it was top secret. I needed his help, and so did they, in order to keep the undercover nature of the tests low key. That was why we had to pick a time when his Mom was away, and of course, so that the men would not be embarrassed by the personal nature of the experiments. Buddy accepted the rationale, and I made sure that the officers understood that if they blew this cover with Buddy, their fate would be at the hands of someone far less gentle and caring. Glumly they accepted their situations, and as long as Rick knew that Buddy would not be taken captive, he was willing to do anything.

Each of the men watched in horror as Buddy approached them and one at a time slipped a greased thermometer gently into their macho bungs. First Chet’s, then Dom’s and finally his father’s ragged anal slits were invaded by the cool glass of the thermometer, sliding up and deep into their rectums. Each of the men had good sized anal apertures, and two had hairy cracks that required Buddy’s small fingers to part the dense forests in order to slip the thermometer in. Then, as his own pricklet throbbed in his shorts, leaking pre-teen pre-fuck, he dutifully recorded the readings as each of the men squirmed and began to experience involuntary erections from the unaccustomed intrusion into their sensitive rectums. Each man's eyes rolled back as the boy's fingers invaded their private anal territory, and their bowels clenched reflexively on the unwanted intrusions.

Next, my operative loosened the wrist connections on each man respectively, then cuffing their arms behind their backs, so Buddy could walk them to the master bedroom toilet. He was instructed to guide them by holding their adult penises, making them pad along with their ankles still locked into the spreader bars, forcing them to shuffle as they walked. When they reached the toilet he held their semi-erect or erect organs as they pissed. Since their hands were cuffed behind them, elbow to elbow, forcing their chests out, and hobbled by the spreader bar, each man looked helpless as they stood in front of the toilet bowl—their gags preventing them from saying anything, and blindfolded to make them feel helpless. I had them lined up, one behind the other so their hard cocks were tickling the anus of the man in front. Buddy grasped their thick shafts in his soft hand and aimed it for them. All three developed raging erections once he grasped them, though Rick was more revolted than aroused, and it made pissing an ordeal…you know how hard it can be to piss with a hardon. Buddy loved the challenge of Chet’s huge boner because of its wicked curve and how he had to bend it to get the piss to shoot into the toilet bowl. Almost reflexively, Buddy's fingers carressed the huge cock helmets, unconsciously teasing them as he held them to drain their piss. You could hear each of them groan desperately, wishing they could just piss, but forced to vent their golden liquid through their hardons. Buddy could not resist reaching up to the chest of each of the men, their nipples jutting out from the way their binding forced out their chests, gently toying with the stiff nubbins on each of the men as they stood, eyes closed, trying to concentrate on peeing. The soft fingers twisting their stiff male nips only made their erections firmer, and it was a five minute plus ordeal for each man, often forcing them up on their toes to make the piss get through.

Then each man was retied on the bed. Buddy produced, out of a bag provided by my man, a hand held massager whose face was covered with a quarter inch of firm paint bristles. With one on each hand, Buddy began a tour of each of their bodies with their faces and worked down over every square inch of their exposed flesh as he had been instructed. He started with Chet, and both Dom and Rick starred wide eyed as the boy’s hands slid over Chet’s handsome face, over and into his sensitive ears, under his ticklish neck and over his adam’s apple, then across his sloping pecs and over the rubbery, sensitive teats. Chet howled into his gag as the buzzing bristles scrubbed over his exposed flesh, raising goosebumps over his skin, and tickling him mercilessly. When the pulsing bristles crossed back and forth over Chet’s Adam’s apple, flicked into his ears, and prickled the thrusting nubs of his hard coned nipples, Chet’s prick curved up and out, and his clear pre fuck began to burp out of his piss lips. Buddy loved the way Chet turned his head back and forth, and closed his eyes, when the shuddering bristles scratched back and forth over the hard nipples, sending electric shocks to Chet’s prick, making his glans expand and throb, and of course, leak. Eventually Buddy travelled down to the abdominals, across the tense thighs and quads, over and around the knees, back across the ass cheeks and hamstrings, with a brief pause in the deep crack of his wide, firm ass. Sliding each hand up and down the butt crack, between Chet’s defenseless anal split, lightly haired and hence without protection for his clenching anus, the firm scratching bristles tickled ruthlessly against the sensitive portal. Chet roared, and clenched his long, thick toes, grinding his big butt into the bed, but there was nothing he could do to prevent Buddy from his determined search deep into Chet’s male pride.

Chet was already panting and breathless when Buddy finally reached his size thirteen feet, high arched, wide at the ball, with long thick toes. Like Dom, Chet’s index toe extended beyond his big toe, almost like he was flipping the bird with his toes each time he planted his bare foot on the ground. The bristles were merciless on Chet’s soft, sensitive soles. Like the erectile flesh on the nipples, the sensitive flesh under the nostril, inr the armpits, and in the ears, the soles of Chet’s feet were areas that he had never allowed anyone to touch since he was in junior high. At a scout camp-out when he was thirteen, a group of older boys had captured him in a game of Capture the Flag, and to get information out of him, and to enjoy sadistic teenage boy sexual torture, they stripped him and tickled his feet and elsewhere until he had an involuntary ejaculation. They roared with laughter, and Chet had never forgotten his humiliation and his inability to control himself when tickled. My operative had to help Buddy by holding Chet down at the shoulders, so the boy could drag the buzzing bristles of the hand massagers up an down the big feet. Chet squeezed his toes down tightly, and then expanded them as he flailed, but nothing could prevent the scratching, scraping bristles from sending lightening bolts to his prick. After five minutes of determined tickling with his feet flapping and his ass bouncing, Chet made one last roar into his gag, and his huge, flared glans expanded glass smooth and the piss lips opened to eject six long ropes of cum onto the bed from the twisted shaft, then another four pulses with dregs drooling onto the side of his stomach. Buddy remembered what we had discussed, and just as Chet began to ejaculate, he moved from his big feet quickly up to his mid-section, flinging off one of the massagers, and gripping Chet’s erupting prick. With one had sliding over and around the bucking glans, and utilizing the massager on his other hand on the nearest nipple, Buddy showed that he could ruthlessly milk the young, bound cop. Now Chet’s toes, stretched and strained from the merciless milking his fat knob was receiving in Buddy’s soft fist, wringing every bit of cop spooge from the helpless captive as he wailed into his gag, his eyes squeezed tight. Chet had never been used by a man, much less a boy, like this. He'd had his cock sucked more than once at a rest stop and once in junior high when he got drunk at a party. But having Buddy milk his thick prick and tickle him into submission, was both embarrassing and exciting. He could not will his prick soft, and Buddy's talented fist kept him squirming helplessly.

It took thirty minutes to reach this goal with Chet, but Buddy was so excited that he did not grow tired. After another five minutes of torturing the turgid prick head that refused to soften in his small fist with occasional swipes from the buzzing bristles and yelps into his gag from Chet, Buddy finally stopped. Chet, drenched in sweat stopped whining and squealing into his gag, his eyes now wide open pleading with the boy to stop teasing his over-wrought glans. When Buddy stopped, Chet closed his eyes, and gasped for breath, his fingers and toes finally splayed in exhaustion from his first surrender to male sexual submission. Buddy then dutifully filled out a form I had provided him, with the help of my assistant, to continue the ruse of testing for responses to the stimuli. He left Chet exhasted and moved to his next task.

Buddy turned to Dom. He followed my instructions and took out Dom’s gag, allowing the big Italian cop to express his feelings and plead for mercy. When he saw Buddy go to the bag and extricate a seven inch anal prod, slender (only a half inch wide), but covered with rubber cones with strange, rounded metal tips, and a bullet nose, he began to plead with the boy. Dom, tried to reason with Buddy as if there was still a choice. "Kid, hey kid, com'on...we're buds, rememba...tink of all da times we wuz on da bike, com'on Bud...don't do dis to me....pleaz..., ya can't queer me...aaaahhhh fuuuwwwccck."

“Oh fuuwwwck, Bud, hey Buddy, dis is Dom dude…your friend, Chwrist ya can’t use dat fuuuwccking ting on me…Jeeezzzus, Buddy, I’m no fag…don’t do dis…oh shit….pleazze Buddy, pleazze, we’re buds, com'on you can’t hurt ya bud…nnnnnnooooooo!” But Buddy knew what I had told him, and he repeated it to Dom in his soft, still-high pitched pre-teen voice.

“Dom, I can’t…I hafta to do this, or you guys are gonna get lot’s worse from somebody you don't know. It'll be awful embarassing. Anyway, you know we have to do this study, and get this information. So please, just lemme do this…I’ll be gentle, but I gotta do it….sorry Dom, it’s for you, it’s for the best, I promise.” Even though he wanted to scream out to Buddy not to do it because the whole thing was a fucked up deal, he knew he had to keep quiet. Dom’s eyes widened as he watched Buddy lubricate the long slender prod, and even more so when my assistant pulled out of the bag a small bottle with what appeared to be three inch suppositories. What could those be? Buddy put down the lubed prod on a plastic tray, and slipped on a medical glove to open the wide-mouthed bottle and extricate one of the glistening, sticky suppositories. I had obtained these beauties in Singapore, on the black market from China. They were made with ginger and an additive from the leaf of a nettle with remarkable itching properties. With his free hand, Buddy dipped his fingers in the same lube he used to prepare the prod, and snaked it through the thicket of Dom’s dark hair infested ass crack. Finding the Italian cops clenched pucker, he began to tease and scratch the ragged lips, tickling them as much as probing. Dom pleaded in vain for a reprieve: “Oh Chwrist kid, don queer me, oh shit, not my fuwcking asshole…oh Jeeezuuus Chwrist, not my fuuuwwcccking howle….!” Rick, and the barely recovered Chet stared intently as their comrade's long toes clenched helplessly, and they were mesmerized by Buddy’s fingers delving between the masculine cheeks of Dom’s strong ass.

Buddy ignored his older friend, knowing from his conversation with me that it was better to undergo this procedure than the one I had planned if he didn’t do what I asked. These men had to participate in this study, and any other approach would be more invasive and embarrassing. Eventually Dom tired, and lost control of his sphincter. Then the small index finger of the boy slid into the hot fundament of the macho cop, making his already hard prick squirt more of its Italian pre-fuck into his deep pisswell, and the folds of his thin dickskin that covered half his over-sized cock knob. Slipping as deep as his digit would allow him to go, Buddy spread the lubricant up, in and around the clinging, soft hole. As soon as he could extricate his finger from Dom’s persistent gripping with his strong glute muscles, Buddy used his gloved hand to insert the wicked suppository while his other hand kept the cheeks spread and Dom’s anus exposed for the operation. Dom howled the moment the supple, cool suppository touched his hole, and it took my man’s distracting poke of a finger in one ear, and a pinch of a nipple with the other hand, to make him loosen control of his bowels so the boy could slide the plug in. “Aaaaaagggggghhhhh…. nnnnnoooooo, ooooohhhhhhhh fuuuuuwwccccckkkkkk!, nnnnnnoooooooooo…. Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh!”

Within moments, the soft suppository melted in Dom’s hot chamber, and its viscous, slimy gel coated the rectum creating both a burning and itching sensation that rivaled anything Tony Bruno had experienced as I prepared him for his new life. I loved testing these new products out on these meathead cops whose attempt to blackmail me had reduced them to helpless big-dicked slaves. Little bumps raised along the surface of Dom’s rectal lining, itching insanely. That is why I had the five inch anal prod prepared in conjunction with this part of the exam. Buddy switched it on, and again holding open the bouncing ass cheeks, he slid the prod up and into Dom’s spasming hole. “OH CHWWRIST…OOOOHHHH MA GAWD…..JEEEZZZUS FUCKIN’ CHWRIST… HALP….BUDDY! RICK! CHET…OH MY GAAAWWDDDDD, HELP ME…IT ITCHES, OH FUUWCK IT ITCHES……… AAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!

Buddy did as I told him, switching on the prod which was plugged into the wall outlet. This started the little cones twisting back and forth, and emitting short bursts of electrical charge that at once soothed and irritated Dom’s anal tract. The prod came with a belt which looped around each leg to secure it in place, and once he was able to overcome Dom’s grinding, bucking ass with my assistant’s help, he grabbed onto Dom’s nine inch erection and began to stroke the soft foreskin up and over the pulsing cock knob. Buddy then stopped long enough to slip on one leather batting glove with a ruffed surface. Squeezing some lube onto the palm, then he used his free hand to slide the foreskin back on Dom’s huge organ, and let his gloved fist (that barely cover the piss lips and top of the big Italian cop’s sausage), work the sticky glans. Beginning a determined roiling, he masturbated the fat cock head relentlessly as the buzzing prod worked up and in Dom’s rectum, delivering exquisite jolts to his prostate, that launched slugs of thick sap up through his urethra and out the wide piss lips, to cover his bulging, wet glans. Dom’s slippery goo joined with Buddy’s lubed glove to facilitate his twisting, twirling masturbation of the over-wrought, nerve-studded cock knob of the horny Italian cop.

My operative held onto Dom’s shoulders as the buzzing prod drove him to buck and wriggle as best he could his bound, bouncing ass on the bed. Dom’s long, thick toes flicked back and forth, so long they could cross like fingers, each flick showing how each shock inside his rectum was driving him insane. With his free hand, my assistant reached up and twisted Dom’s thick nipples. Those nipples had always been an incredible source of sexual excitement for him. When he was ten, his older cousin had discovered how sensitive the boy’s nipples were, and when they shared a bed during a summer vacation of the two families, his cousin had turned him into a helpless, bonerized pre-teen and masturbated him to dry cum after dry cum. Dom would resist as best he could until his cousin found that by playing with his tits at night in bed, the boy was basically helpless. Cousin Solly would wet his thick fingers and twist the boys tits, scratch them, and pinch them until the young Dom was on autopilot, humping the bed to relieve his pricklet’s itchy need. Then the older boy’s hand would take control of the penis, and slide the tender foreskin over the fevered pricklet knob until the younger boy bucked through dry cum after dry cum; sometimes three or four a night. He would force Dom onto his torso, and pin him with his legs, using a necktie to secure the young boy's arms, and then stretching him out, he would have a field day with the sensitive pre-teen teats and the kid's oversized boner. Dom never let his cousin touch him again, after that vacation, but the discovery of his nipples connection to his cock had given him endless hours of pleasure as the long nails of girls he fucked were directed towards his nips, along with their full, lipstick covered lips. They would suck and scratch, and he would fuck like a madman, driving his energized prick into tight cunts, his knob expanding obscenely each time the electrical connection between his tits and his prick was activated by lips, teeth and nails.

Within fifteen minutes, the growling, howling Dom surrendered to Buddy’s relentless fist, and the pinching of his tits and the incredible whirring thing eating him alive up his fundament. His already fat plum of a cock knob expanded even more, going glass smooth, and the rough surface of the glove mauled the ticklish nerve endings driving him over the edge the way Sal’s fingers had so long ago. Bolts of Italian cop spooge rocketed from the wide open piss lips, squirting over Dom’s head and then splattering on his chin, neck and chest before dribbling down to a white viscous drool that helped Buddy make Dom’s limbs go rigid from the ongoing masturbation of his helpless glans. “OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH GAAAWWDDD, OOOOOOOHHH GAAAAWD, NO, NO….OOOOOOHHHHHHHH FUUUUWWCK…..NOT MY KNOOWWB…AAAAAAHHHHH, TOO SENSITIVE, TOOOOOOO MUCH….OOOOOOOOOHHHHHH NOOOOOO……BUDDY!!” But as with Chet, so with Dom, Buddy was instructed to milk the sensitive cop knob to elicit the most complete response from the men. Like Chet, Dom bounced his head, snapping it back and forth as he howled and squealed for relief, making his two comrades quake with fear at what was in store for them. Each man would receive the treatment the other was getting, that was how they would be milked more than once per session. Chet and Rick could only imagine what was in store for them. When Buddy finished with Dom, the Italian cop’s body was covered with a wet sheen of sweat, and his toes stopped flicking, the size twelve feet pale and limp now. Like Chet before him, he panted and gasped for air, glad that he had cum so hard, after the two weeks of enforced celibacy except for one Sunday when he was allowed to fuck his wife. But he could not imagine two more ejaculations, and yet he knew that was what would happen.

When they finally got to Buddy’s Dad, the boy had tender words for his young father. “Dad, I know this is strange, and I’m real sorry…but you know I gotta do this.”

Rick’s eyes were closed, and he was panting from just watching what had happed to his cop buddies. He had unwittingly brought them to this point by agreeing to meet at the cabin to discuss terms. In a sense of fatality, he now realized that this was a better alternative than other options I could have imposed. His cock was tumescent, but he went limp when his son approached him. But when Buddy picked up his cock, and stroked it in his soft, lubricated young hands, Rick had an unconscious response, and his thick, straight, pale, eight inch stalk lengthened and filled out, it bulbous knob turning ruddy. Almost immediately he began to drip drops of clear scum, and his breathing picked up its pace. That’s when my assistant who was helping Buddy opened a door to the bedroom, and in bounded a healthy, mature, German Shepard.

“Dad, this is Baron…he’s a real nice dog.” Rick’s eyes bolted open, to see the dog jump up between his spread legs and yelp and start his own panting. As Rick looked at the dog, he also saw Buddy squeeze a squirt bottle of honey right into his spread butt cheeks, the cool liquid drizzling down and over his long, ragged anal slit. Then Buddy placed the small nozzle at the entrance to his Dad’s quim and squirted a long dollop into the surprised hole. In the meantime, Buddy’s fist kept spiraling up and down his father’s now fully erect penis, rolling over the glans, and then back down. Each time his young fist roiled the sensitive, wide corona and the fat, wet glans, Rick would clench his toes and squeeze his anal muscles, making him push as if he was taking a shit. That allowed his anus to flower, and suddenly, Baron’s long tongue thrust just inside.

Rick yelped in surprise….”Buddy, get that damn dog’s tongue away from me…ooooh, shit, no, noooooooo….he’s lickin’ me….aaaaahhhhhhh….nnnnnooooooo!” Baron’s tongue was warm and wet, and accompanied by his cold and wet nose burrowing under Rick’s big balls, his cock was responding by jerking and pulsing. It took about ten minutes, but Baron was well trained, and eventually his tongue slipped up inside Rick’s sensitive hole, flicking around against the lining and feeling like a slippery eel searching out the cop’s virgin hole. When he was in high school, Rick had had a bowel obstruction and the doctor had to finger deep inside his rectum to investigate the problem. The Doctor had to keep at it for a while, and finally Rick had ejaculated spontaneously from the constant probling that rubbed up against his prostrate. Now this dog’s wet tongue took him back to that sensation and made his toes curl tight. My assistant reached down and gripped both of Rick’s pink, rubbery teats, twisting them gently, and scratching his fingernails over the tips. All this added to Rick’s quivering and grinding his ass into the bed. But Baron was not to spend all his time at Rick’s hole. Instead, since all the men had received enemas before they were bound onto the bed, Baron’s attentions could turn elsewhere without causing Buddy to get squeamish. Instead, Buddy took the same prod that had been in Dom, used some antiseptic wipes and cleaned it, and then lubed it again. Now that Buddy had paved the way with his slurping tongue, the anal prod slid into his Dad with little resistance. Rick yelped again, and begged his son to take it out…but his grunts and entreaties soon turned into groans as the electric wand did its magic deep inside his rectum, like the doctor’s fingers had so long ago. Rick was about to learn that he was truly an anal slut, a greedy big assed Irish cop who would never be satisfied again unless something was lodged deep up his butt. Squealing helplessly from the slow fucking he was receiving from Buddy using the prod, Rick found Baron’s attention was directed to his rigid stalk that was lying on his stomach, aimed directly toward his chin and almost up to the gap between his mounded pectorals. With his free hand, Buddy held up the thick prick, and my operative drizzled a healthy slug of honey over the crown of his throbbing boner. Baron leaped to his work, the long, salacious tongue wrapping around the stalk and especially the nerve-studded corona and piss lips of Rick’s prick knob. The circumcision scar was helplessly exposed, and Baron’s tongue lashed at it enthusiastically. Round and round the dog’s tongue went, slurping and lashing, teasing the fat crown and glans mercilessly, as he had been trained to do. With Buddy maneuvering the anal prod to work its magic deep up his rectum, Baron’s tongue blowing him like no chick ever could, and my assistant’s fingers pinching his stiff teats, Rick was like a Pavlovian dog himself. In ten minutes, he blew his wad like a geyser, and our disciplined Baron has a taste for spunk. He attacked the glistening glans with greedy abandon, his tongue searching out each morsel of sticky male spooge, making Rick whimper and cry for mercy. But like the sexual machine he had always been, Rick kept ejecting spunk, and Baron redoubled his efforts to snarf every drop, as well as the additional honey that my assistant continued to squirt over the bloated, overly sensitive cock knob, after the last of the cum had been licked away.

Young Buddy turned out to be a great help. He would later go to his room and lubricate his fist to rub his own boner into submission, and since he could not yet ejaculate, he was able to wring three and fours cums a night from his thick, fat knobbed pricklet. He was a chip off the old block. After the session and all three of their ejaculations, the men were taken weak and exhausted into the shower, shackled as when they pissed earlier. One at a time they were tied to a rod over the shower stall--their legs still shackled apart with the spreader bars, and Buddy went in with them in his swim suit to give them a complete shower, and to finger clean their assholes. While in with them, he was instructed to masturbate each one again, reaching up to pinch their jutting tits, rubbing and pulling on their big balls. Each one shouted into his gag as he was drained again, and his knob soaped and milked until they almost collapsed in the large shower stall. Then, after they were dried, their cock cages were put back in place, and another two week stint was about to begin, give or take a fuck with one of their wives.

It was two weeks after the cops’ first session with Buddy that I received a package from Argentina. It was from my client who was more than satisfied with Tony. He wrote that at first Tony could not fully comprehend that his private life was over completely. He had enjoyed the sex, but assumed that somehow he would either be freed or be granted a new life that was exclusively his. To be bound each night into his bed, and to have little boys hold his penis when he pissed, and wipe his asshole after each shit was hard. It was even more difficult to be placed in front of guests in his uniform, then stripped and used to their amusement and enjoyment. He was kept on a strict diet and excercise regimen and was in great shape. But his body was being trained for one purpose and one purpose only, and otherwise, he was kept hard and horny.

The tape that was sent to me made me cum three times in a row. There in perfect digital quality was Tony sitting on the lap of his new master. His arms were tethered elbow to elbow behind his back, thrusting out his powerful chest and his jutting nipples. His legs were spread wide by a large bar with his ankles firmly secured. The bar rested on the large armrests of the chair, keeping his legs up and his hairy anal pucker fully exposed. His big balls were dropping down covering his anal slot, roiling in their sack, full of spunk, and smelling of their ripe ball sweat. I watched at his master slid a wicked anal prod almost six inches in length up and into Tony’s rectum. Once lodged and secured with straps, he flipped a switch at its base and you immediately could see Tony’s big, long toes curl reflexively and tightly from whatever sensation was being produced deep within the former security guard’s bowels, and his fingers scrabbling uselessly in his bondage. Then the handsome young man who now owned Tony, reached around his chest with one hand, and flicked, pinched, and twisted his ever erect tit nubbins. But Tony could not discern what was happening until it occurred because he was blindfolded, and gagged with a vibrating dildo lodged in his mouth, tickling his sensitive palate and making him gurgle around its thick intrusion. The piece de resistance was a simple cotton sock, lined to prevent fluids from escaping and filled with a special lubricant. The young man pinching Tony’s nipples, smiled broadly behind his sun glasses, as he slid the sock over the man’s straining erection. The sock must have belonged to a child because it was just large enough to slip over the knob and about three inches of the shaft, and then the elastic around its opening secured it firmly around the shaft. Then that smiling face began to twist and rub the toe, where the juices from the lubricant had pooled earlier, round and round the sensitive glans of our boy’s big boner. It had been two weeks since Tony’s arrival, and while he had been teased and tickled for his master’s pleasure, he had not been allowed to ejaculate and had not even been allowed a full erection in his chastity device; just enough to make him leak, and ache, but not enough to achieve any form of satisfaction. Now his master’s strong hand was using the lubricated sock to masturbate his helpless glans penis, torquing around the bulging, bloated cock head, teasing it to the edge of ejaculation and then stopping. Coupled with the ingredients of the lubricant that made Tony feel like an army of mosquitoes were biting his glassy, sensitive prick tip, these teasing, tormenting trips up to the edge of orgasm were making him throw his head back and forth…with only his toes (and scrabbling fingers), revealing the depth of his desperation as they clenched and spread alternatively, flicking and curling helplessly. Finally, after an hour of carefully orchestrated sexual longing, bucking and grinding, Tony’s sock was peeled over the knob and used to tease his piss lips, scar and corona only so I could see the ejaculation. Ten long ropes of cum rocketed out of his wide piss lips, bolting up into the air as his master’s now gloved hand teased the orgasm to get every second on film. Then, as his chest collapsed from the excruciating sensations, his master picked up a small rotating brush and began a gentle polishing of his now hapless and exposed glans. Tony’s leg’s thrashed against the restraints and his toes now clenched tightly and his head swiveled and flopped as he bellowed into his vibrating gag…wailing for relief from the horrible itching of his cock knob. And that was just the beginning. Tony was getting his milking, and there would be three more lovely ejaculations for me to watch as I sat back in my recliner.

Tonight I am looking forward to a night next to the roaring fire in the fire place, ready to turn on the television and the digital recorder again. I will be reviewing the most recent training session with my cops. I understand Baron gets to slide his thick dog prick into Dom’s anus in this tape, and to pound his prostate until he ejaculates spontaneously. Chet get’s an automatic cock milker, and Rick has to fuck the side of his bed until he cums…of course, his prick is coated with a melted suppository, and so I understand he frigs himself three times to ejaculations in an effort to stop the itch. Plus, all three are in their boots, Sam Browne belts, and hats…fuck I love to watch cops enslaved. Then later, I will look at a new tape from my Argentine client, enjoying Tony as he gives a bravura performance, licking the long thick toes of a group of handsome young men from a local soccer team, before he sucks each of their cocks. His own penis is cock caged since he is only allowed one milking session per month, unless he earns an extra session by giving inventive and effective performances in between. Some men were born to be managed and enslaved by their relentless and needy cocks. That's what makes my work so satisfying, God I love my work.