We were working on Preston's crawling technique. Well, Preston was working on his crawling technique, I was mentoring. I humbly admit that I feel a sense of pride when I mentor a teenage boy, knowing that a firm adult hand is helping through those difficult years. Knowing that I am helping to shape his mind as well as his slender lithe young body. I take comfort in the idea that the principles and attitude adjustment which I instill in a boy will live with him for many years after I finish with him and send him off into the world.

"Ass up more, Preston, really thrust those sweet pale boy globes up toward the ceiling. Arch your back so your cunt cheeks are the highest point in your body. Legs spread shoulder width apart, so I can see your sweet teenage testicles swing and bounce when you crawl."

We had been at this for hours. I sat in my easy chair with a drink in one hand and a riding crop in the other. I don't often use a traditional riding crop in my tutorials with boys, but I somehow found it useful for whacking the boy's scrotum should he not expend enough effort. Back and forth and round and round the room young Preston crawled. Although it was physically exhausting for him, he much preferred it to having to display himself to the strange men at the mall. He preferred any home games to public performance. I would cure him of that. It would take much time and effort and some pain, but some day, he would want to please me so much that no act would be too degrading or humiliating for him to perform for my pleasure. And that would make me truly proud.

"Preston, I want to see those balls jiggle and dance when you crawl, Move your hips so the sac swings." He tried his best to comply, but his scrotum at thirteen was still up so tight to the dick root that it had very little pendulum quality to it. I like a nice low hanging sack on a boy. But that too takes lots of work. Hours of painful scrotum stretching. A boy has to be terribly dedicated to his own betterment to be willing to put up with the testicular pain involved in getting his teen nuts to hang to the point where I am satisfied.

I still recall so clearly a slightly older boy with whom I was working complaining to me through tear filled eyes, "You are never happy. No matter how low my balls hang and how much the are stretched, you will never be happy!" I was gently flicking his pouty nipple nubs, every once in a while giving a little twist to the tit tips. I smiled at him and shook my head, then glanced down at the barbell weights hanging from his fifteen year old scrotum, the eggs in side forced down into the bottom of the shiny sack.

"You do make me happy, Clayton," I had said to the fifteen year old, showing as much love as I could in my voice and the look on my face. "You make me very happy, and you try so fucking hard to please me. I love that about you. But you have to trust me here, I know in my heart of hearts, and you do too, that your fuck sack can still stretch a bit more. It looks so much nicer now than when you first came to me. Remember how it used to be a fat round little ball at the bottom of your dick, and now look how it swings and slaps your thighs with every step. The boys at school are envious of your beautiful low hanging nuts. How many fifteen year olds, Clayton have nuts like yours. But I have been feeling and working with the fuckbag for some time now, and I am certain it still has some elasticity left. I think we can get another inch or two out of it, if we really apply ourselves. Don't you, Clayton?

The fifteen year old cutie nodded and drooled a bit, as I added still more weight to that already hanging from his nutsack. Truth be told, I wanted to see if I could get the boy's testicles to hang half way down his thighs. And you know what? We made it. Through hard work and relentless commitment, we got there. Clayton didn't care for the look of his long swinging scrotum. He thought at fifteen it looked gross, but I thought it was beautiful. I made him show it off at the gym, and the swimming pool, and lots of places.

And now I was working with young Preston. " I think Preston, we can help your boy eggs more if we hang a weight from the sack while you crawl, what do you think?"

He lifted his beautiful young face to me. It was slick with sweat. "I don't know, Sir, but I would like to rest. I have been crawling for two hours."

"Two hours and ten minutes to be exact. I had this deeply piled rug put in just so it would be comfortable on the knees of my boys."

His young head swung around. "You have other boys? I thought I was your only boy!" Oops! I had to get out of that verbal faux-pas.

"Of course, you are my only boy, Preston. I have been looking for you for years, never finding the right boy who loved me enough. The boy of my dreams. You are the boy of my dreams, Preston. The boy I love. Wiggle your ass for me a bit, let's see if I can catch a glimpse of your little pink pussy hole. Preston, are you pushing your tits out while you crawl. I can't see under there, but always push your boy tits out like you were a fucking big titted whore. Your nipples are a very important part of your body, Preston, many boys don't realize that. Why do you think I keep you without a shirt most of the time when we go out? So other people can see what beautiful teenage tits you have. Of course we need to work on those too, to get them bigger and fatter and more pouty. I adore a boy with pouty nipples. But we can only work on one or two things at a time, right? Right, buddy?"

"Yes, Sir," he responded, pushing his ass up, trying to wiggle it so his thirteen year old boy nuts danced for me. He was such a good boy.

"Here, Preston, I'm going to put these heavy books on your back to get you to arch it more. I really need that back arched so the ass mounds and head are up and the back is swayed between them. That will make you look like a cheap fucking whore crawling for dick. And don't worry, Preston, I have not forgotten that I promised to give you a really nice hard deep fuck to reward you for your show at the mall. As soon as we finish here, you'll take a long relaxing shower, have three enemas to clean you out, and then, 'FUCKEE WUCKEE TIME!' Young Preston's sweet little ass going to get fucked like it has never been fucked before. Sweet tight thirteen year old ass getting fucked and fucked and fucked. I have this theory, Preston that all boys, well all cute boys of twelve and thirteen should be fucked. Just so they can make a fair choice of whether they want to date girls or become a faggot ass fuck boy. How can they make a decent choice, if they have never tried it.

Every cute boy of twelve or thirteen, or perhaps even younger, should be required by his school or the state or someone to be fucked in the ass oh, say, fifty times. That will give him a really good basis for comparison. Think of all the sexual confusion that will help avoid. A boy could even brag about it to his buddies, "I am on my thirty-third ass fuck this weekend. I am taking a ten inch black dick." You know how boys are. They would try to out-do each other. It would be healthy, and rewarding, and so good for the boy." While I rambled on, Preston crawled, the heavy books giving his slender soft back a nice sway.

"Head up, Preston, I want to see your cute face. Don't forget, mouth open, tongue hanging out like some kind of fuck hungry animal! Keep that ass licker of a tongue way out, Preston.' I was also less than happy about Preston's tongue. It was not particularly long, and I just wasn't getting the proper sensation in my asshole when he tongued my rectum. At first I thought he might be resisting me, due to some inherent abhorrence in many boys at the thought of licking and sucking on a man's asshole, And so I applied discipline including a taser.

But after a while, I realized that the poor boy was indeed giving his all, his tongue was just not very long. I had made a mistake and blamed the boy for not trying hard enough, when it was a physical disability. I am willing to accept responsibility for my mistakes. I apologized to Preston, and bought him a cd to apologize. He had been trying his little thirteen year old best to be a really good ass licker and eater, and I had not known it. The problem, you see, was his tongue. So I had him stick his tongue as far out of his mouth as he could, and then I had put clamps on it to keep it that way. Then I was able to accurately measure the length and width of his ball licker. You can't blame me for wanting a boy who can deep tongue my asshole.

There is nothing I enjoy more. I like to sit for hours reading or watching tv with the tongue of a young teenage boy gently fucking in and out of my rectum. I love to feel the soft thirteen year old tongue swabbing the inside of my shithole. Now a boy's tongue can be stretched a bit through exercise with clamps and so on, but not all that much. What Preston lacked in tongue length, he would simply have to make up in skill.

The best ass licking boy I ever had was a little eleven year old named Bobby. Man, could that kid lick and suck ass. Oh, he didn't want to at first. He fought me and cried and threw every kind of tantrum, as little boys are wont to do. he said it was disgusting and dirty and so on, and I said, of course it was, that was why I wanted him to do it. There is no pretending it is not a demeaning act of the lowest variety for any boy who does not have that particular predilection. Most straight boys are repulsed at the idea of having to suck a man's ass. I had to get quite rough with little Bobby in order to get him to have a proper attitude toward eating out my ass. But eventually, he got the hang of it, and let me tell you, he had this tongue which could go into a narrow point as well as widen up for crack lapping. When he was narrow, he would thrust it into my rectum, fucking my hole with his tongue for hours. Oh, he would get tired and slow down, but then a few whacks to the bottom of his feet or his sack, and he was up and at it again with full vigor. I used to not clean my hole very well intentionally just to leave little treats for him every now and then. That is a true measure of a boy's love, if he will hungrily eat your dirty ass.

I would take Preston there, into the boy joys of total ass worship and rectum eating. He would learn to hungrily take with gratitude anything and everything which came from my ass and my dick. In order for a boy to totally respect and serve a man, he has to willing take the man's waste. He had to learn that everything my body produces from spit, to snot, to cum to piss and shit was a gift for him to relish and enjoy. And then of course, he had to learn to accept those things from other men as well. And soon he would be reduces to nothing but a living waste container, a teenage dickheaded dumpster of a fuckhole. We would get him there. It would take time and effort on both our parts. I would have to make some compromises, such as Preston's not having the longest tongue, but on the whole, I was quite pleased with him. I could already imagine how cute his tiny thirteen year old ass would look when I was fist-fucking him. And unlike his tongue, his hole was adjustable. We could stretch the fuck out of it, as long as we worked diligently and with patience. Preston would take the pain and the strain for me, because he loved me, because he needed me. If he had to endure his tiny asshole getting stretched all to hell to keep my love, then he would do it.

My responsibility was to move as slowly and carefully as I could, not to make it easy for him, oh heavens no. In fact, just the opposite. By taking things slowly, every delicious agonizing, humiliating, sexually delirious moment would be stretched out for as long as possible, while his tiny thirteen year old rectum was turned into a gaping cunt! And once a boy cunt was really totally stretched, not just opened so that it would eventually tighten up again, but really opened, turned out, worked so that it stayed a fucked out mess of a raw twat, then the boy would carry that badge of endurance with him his entire life.

Think of proud he could secretly be to know when he was fifteen and sixteen that his boy asshole had been turned into a wide open fucking cunt, and that it would never totally close up, never! He would have to adjust his eating and digestion habits to avoid unwanted accidents, as his anal control would be lost. But that is a small price to pay for knowing that at thirteen he had been fucked hundreds of times and dildo fucked and bottle fucked, and baseball bat fucked and fist fucked...and maybe even more. How proud Preston could be of his accomplishments, and I say with all modesty, how proud I would be as his mentor.