It was what they called "Piss and Shit Time" at the Facility. Since the entire reason for the Facility's existence was to feed the insane perversion of Mr. Fundoshi, even something as simple and basic as using the toilet was surrounded with humiliation and degradation. The boys trapped in the compound were never allowed to feel even a tiny bit normal or human.

Upon entering the Toilet Room, The boys stood in line. The number of boys pissing and shitting at any one time was kept under control, as was their means of evacuating, to provide ultimate pleasure. This morning a group of twenty naked teenagers waited to relieve themselves. They stood in a tightly packed line, their arms up with their hands behind their heads. They were to stand with their penises resting in the ass crack of the boy in front of them. Any boy who got a hard on was put down for the Punishment Room. It was difficult for the boys because their young flaccid dicks moved up and down against the ass cracks of the boys in front of them, As Each boy's young dick wobbled against the ass mound of the boy in front, another boy's fucker tickled his own ass. To further increase discomfort, the boys waiting in line were retired to do small exercises, going up and down on their toes, so their fuckers would move up and down the cracks of other lads. It was torture designed to make them get erections, just so that they might be punished.

Mr. Fundoshi sat in a pink silk kimono in a suite overlooking the Toilet Room. A huge picture window and an excellent sound system allowed him to observe all the fun. A whistle blew and ten of the boys stepped out of line. They moved to a two-foot deep, two and one-half foot wide trench set in the white tiled room. They knelt on the opposite side of the trench from the ten remaining boys. A whistle blew again and the ten remaining boys marched up to the trench. They were handsome boys. Mr. Fundoshi didn't like losers. No fat on his boys. All smooth skinned, lithe, beautiful young teens. Fresh faced kids, living in a Hell of horror and abuse.

The ten "Pissers" stood hands at the back of their necks, lovely armpits and torsos on display, little flaccid fuckers bobbing. They stood with their feet shoulder width apart so their handsome teenage nut sacks were also showing. Up in his suite, Mr Fundoshi had a camera control board to play with, so he could zero in on any particular kid's face or dick and balls or ass. The boys stood at attention that way for a minute. Guards patrolled the room, circling around the boys, occasionally prodding with a night stick or taser rod. The whistle blew again, and the boys began to piss. The pissed directly on the faces of the kneeling boys. Ten heavy streams of morning piss hit ten innocent teenage boy faces. The kneeling boys opened their mouths to catch and swallow as much piss as possible. Any boy who didn't look enthusiastic was punished.

Mr. Fundoshi studied the faces of the drinking boys carefully. He wanted to see a good attitude and a proper style in their piss gulping. He liked to watch the Adam"s Apples of the boys go up and down as they swallowed the urine. When the spray of boy piss had become a trickle, the Pissers crossed the trench and wiped their dicks off in the hair of the kneeling boys. Then the Pissers knelt to become Drinkers and the Drinkers stood and crossed the trench to become Pissers. Some of the boys who had already had their pissholes stretched by various methods had much stronger streams of piss.

After the process was repeated and all twenty boys had finished urinating, it was time for shitting. You must know how much a teenage boy seeks privacy for such an intimate act. No intimacy here. The twenty boys formed two lines of ten boys each. Each boy was handed a moistened cloth. At a signal all twenty boys squatted over the trench, one young foot on either side of the trench. They were quite obscenely beautiful like that, totally naked, squatting with feet on either side of the trench, young dicks and balls swinging beneath them. There was one foot of space between each boy, so one kid's knees brushed the sides of the body of the boy in front of him. They placed their hands on the shoulders of the boy in front. At a whistle, each boy began to grunt and shit.

Now as you are aware, people shit at different rates. At the Facility, boys struggled to learn to shit in unison. It never worked completely, and the group was always forced to wait for one or two boys who were slow in getting their turds out. If a boy was too slow for one reason or another, he was simply made to stop mid shit. A bell signaled the end of shitting time. Now each boy took the moistened tissue he held and wiped the ass of the boy in front of him. The tissue was small, and a boy had to fold it carefully and use it judiciously if he didn't want to get his buddy's shit all over his hand. Each day, the position of the boys were changed, so that every boy had a chance to team up with every other boy.

Then came the worst part. At another whistle, the boys rose and stood straddling the trench, bent over at the waist, presenting his young ass to the boy behind him. Then the boy who had just cleaned his partner's young ass, had to bend down and lick the ass he had just cleaned to show that he had done a thorough job. That's right the boys had to lick the assholes of the boys in front of them to illustrate that they had done their job properly. The boys at each end of the line did this little procedure with each other after the other boys had finished. Then all twenty lads trooped off to the shower.

Mr. Fundoshi made careful notes on his boys. For example, he noted that boys of thirteen and fourteen with fuller lips were best as ass suckers. Those soft pouty lips could really wrap themselves around a rectum hole. Boys of fifteen and sixteen with muscular round asses were superb for fucking. A boy of fifteen and sixteen has a firmly established sexual identity and it is such fun to destroy that with a fat cock up his ass. Take a very straight young man of sixteen say, or even seventeen, who who is in the full rush of girl loving passion. The kind of kid who thinks about nothing but cunt twenty-four hours a day. The kind of boy who has nothing on his mind except to sink his throbbing teenage dick into the soft, warm, tight pussy of some young girl. Take that boy and have him fucked ten or fifteen times a day for five months, and you will change him. I won't say you will turn him straight, but you will so fuck up his body and his mind, that he will be "altered" for life. He will learn to think and feel entirely through his fucked asshole. He will come to think of his asshole as a cunt. Imagine being a sixteen year old boy and thinking of your asshole as a cunt! It's quite thrilling.

While the "regular" boys were off at the showers, the Masturbators entered the Toilet Room. These were the six young men we visited earlier. While they walked, they kept fingering their fuckmeat. They didn't have to pump continually, that would have worn their poor teen pricks raw, they could finger their dicks now and then...just so they kept the pricks totally rock iron hard. Doctors have warned that it is dangerous to have an erection lasting longer than four hours, but Mr. Fundoshi didn't care how dangerous it was, it was damn good fun. Who cares if the boys were sexually ruined for life? The extreme agony of the boys having to keep their hyoung dicks hard and of having to masturbate constantly gave Mr. Fundoshi endless pleasure.

Once inside the Toilet Room, the masturbators had to bring their dicks to leakage. Their pre-cum was collected in a glass bowl for later use in other games. Then the boys were allowed to go flaccid. Can you imagine the relentlessly gnawing plain/pleasure in their dicks and testicles? If you want to know the experience, try edging for just a few days without shooting. Your balls ache, your dick feels like it has a life of it's own. You begin to feel all funny inside. Extreme edging for long periods of time can cause a male to have a nervous breakdown. The fear that you might cum mixed with the gnawing need to empty your balls can be traumatic. More than a few of Mr. Fundoshi's boys did indeed have mental breakdowns. Mr. Fundoshi didn't care in the slightest. He simply assigned the mentally deranged lads to other tasks or games.

When the masturbators' pricks were flaccid they approached a round tub set in the white tiled floor. It was not unlike an old fashioned wash tub. The six boys knelt down around the tub and let their thick sore dicks hang over the edge. When a bell rang, they all pissed at the same time. When they had finished, the got up and sat on the edge of the tub, facing outward...asses hanging over the edge facing inward. They were instructed to begin masturbating again. That short respite was the highlight of the day for some of the six tortured teens. That short piss break was so refreshing, so liberating, it gave the boys hope somehow. After all, a boy has to have hope! At the next whistle, the boys commenced shitting.

All of this regiment imposed upon the lads was designed to make them feel more like animals than humans. Part of Mr. Fundoshi's particular kind of perversion was to de-humanize boys; to remove from them and small vestige of self-esteem. To make them believe they were nothing more than sex animals, existing only to service the dicks and balls and assholes of superior men. Every part of their slender beautiful young bodies must be thought of as nothing more than a sex toy. From their toes to their tits, they are simply tools of pleasure and abuse...and pleasure through abuse.

Just a brief word about the showers. They consisted of a series of tiny cubicles very similar to telephone booths. Four boys had to squeeze into each shower, their sinewy naked bodies twisted, packed and rubbed up against each other. Then they had to wash each other. Any boy who got a hard dick was pulled from the shower and sent to the Punishment Room. It was pure torture. The horny young males had to think about anything except sex, as they were forced to scrub each others' fat genitals while theirs were scrubbed in turn. Fingers poked up their assholes. They brushed each others' teeth. When they emerged from the showers, they were inspected. They had to be squeaky clean, inside and out. The Masturbators were all six forced into a single shower and made to keep masturbating while they washed each other. Their groans often filled the Shower Room, as they tried their best to keep from cumming. Their scrotums drew up under their straining cock roots as their balls were scrubbed by other boys. These boys grew to care for each other intensely, and so they tried their best to help each other refrain from blasting a load of baby batter. One added humiliation and torment for the six masturbators was that they were made to tongue kiss each other for up to ten minutes while in the showers. While they tongue kissed they had to grope each others' asses and continue to masturbate. Sometimes for variety, they were ordered to play with each others' nipples. Remember please that these were formerly normal, healthy straight boys. Now there were simply dick dripping fuck animals.

Of course the ever creative Mr. Fundoshi recorded the daily showers for his video watching pleasure and also to monitor the boys' behavior. If, for example, a boy didn't thrust his tongue deeply enough into the mouth of his "shower buddy," didn't grab his ass with enough pressure, or didn't pump his own fuckmeat with enough enthusiasm, he was carted off to the Punishment Room. Did boys under the pressure of this abuse grow to love each other...sometimes indeed, but that is another story.

What's interesting about the bathroom and boy ritual at the Facility is how it illustrates an age old truth. People always want what someone else has...the grass is always greener. The normal boys who were not allowed to touch their teenage fuck tools except when ordered to, languished in a constant sexual desert, wanting and needing to get a big fat erection and feel like males. "Oh if I could only be one of the masturbators..." many a boy thought. "At least I would be able to play with my dick!" While the masturbators to a boy prayed to their diverse deities that they would never have to jerk their peckers again. None of the boys was happy...all were miserable. How sweet.

That afternoon across the vast power packed city of Tokyo, up in the exclusive pent house belonging to Mr. Black, two little boys, one ten and one eleven were taking a bath. Kinto had told the lad that their father was coming that very night, and they had to be nice and clean to see him. The naked little likes happily accepted the offer of a bath.

"In Japan, we take a bath a bit diffrerently than in the U.S. Kinto said. This afternoon he wore a most unusual outfit. It wqs another one of those pouches that so embarrassed the two little American boys, but this pouch was made of net. It meant that the boys could clearly see the Japanese man's fat stubby dick and large balls through the netting. Why would anyone want to walk around dressed like that? It was so "gay" as the boys said with their school chums. "In Japan, we soap up and scrub ourselves outside the tub or pool. Then we rinse off with hot water, then we climb into the pool for a long relaxing soak. Here, I will show you how we soap up!"

To the total embarrassment of the boys, Kinto ordered them to put their hands on their heads. The two pale skinny little pre-teens looked darling standing totally naked with their hands on their heads. Kinto too some soap and a cloth and turned their tiny bodies into a suds covered spectacle. He washed their necks, chests, face, hair, legs and feet. Then he put the cloth down and soaped up his hand. Using his bare hand, he lathered the boys between their legs and in their ass cracks. The boys begged him to stop, but he just laughed and reminded the kids that they had to be really clean for their father. For some reason, both boys felt like crying again. Kinto smiled and fingered the boys' tiny dicks and little round bags. Then he made them bend over and he put soap on one finger and worked it into their assholes one at a time.

"Oh God, no, please stop! That hurts. It's a sin to do that..." Brian squealed.

"It's a sin not to be clean. Little boys don't' properly clean their assholes."

"I can do it myself..." Brian tried to pull away. Kinto slapped the boy. Everything in the room seemed to freeze. The warm clean water that had been sloshing in the pool stopped its calming motion, The steam seemed to hand in the air. The two thin little boys stood in shock, their mouths hanging open. It was not a hard slap. It was the idea of the slap. Kinto bowed to the boys. "Sorry. Now see what you made me do. I want only to do what is right for you. Do you want to see your father this evening or not? " Both boys nodded, tears filling their eyes.

Then stand still and let me clean you. If you are not clean enough, Mr. Black will be angry, and none of us wants that. He rubbed the unbelievably sweet asses of the two little boys. Kinto could not decide which ass was the more desirable. He ran a forefinger down the ass crack of each boy. "Mr. Black insists that you be very clean inside."He told the boys to bend over at the waist and to grab their little ass cheeks in their hands and spread their asses for him. Is there a greater sin than the betrayal of the innocent? Kinto soaped up his two forefingers and then he slowly worked them into the assholes of the pre-teen boys. The boys began to moan and breath in short rapid gulps of air. To Kinto they sounded like young whores, hungry for dick. If only these boys knew what Mr. Black had in store for them. He drilled his fingers in and out of the tight moist hairless little boy ass pussies. Is there anything in the world more delectable than young moist, warm, tight boy ass pussy? Not to someone like Kinto. But even this heavenly interlude could only go on for so long. Eventually he pulled his fingers out and sprayed the boys clean of soap and told then to enjoy themselves in the tub.

The tub was a bit of heaven. The boys were alone. They were in soothingly warm water. The sat there looking at each other.

"The last time we took a bath together was when we were about six." Pete said.

"Yeah, I remember. Dad would wash us and sometimes even climb in with us. It was fun. And then one day it just stopped and Dad wouldn't even come in the bathroom any more when we took a bath."

"Don't you remember why, Goofy? It was right after that one day when Dad's dick got so big. Remember? It got all swollen and slapped his stomach while he was washing your thingy. After that he said we were old enough to wash ourselves. But I missed goofing around with him."

"I guess we were old enough to start washing ourselves. Dad always knows what he's doing. Is he really going to come save us?" The eyes of both children filled again with tears and they had to sniff back runny noses. Brian played with the water a bit.

"Dad will come. He won't ever let anybody hurt us." Watching them from the other room on a minitor, Kinto had discarded his net pouch and was furiously pumping his thick dripping dick and tugging on his large nipples. For some reason, he was thinking about Brian and Pete's cute pink toes. He wanted to suck on their toes. He pushed a button and in the bathroom, a large wall television lit up.

"Look Brian, it's a boy taking a bath!" Pete studied the young Japanese boy on the screen.

"Better not look. It might be a bad movie like the one we saw in the bedroom." Brian tried not to look, but his eyes wandered to the young naked boy in a tub very much like theirs.

"He looks the same age as us." And indeed he was. The smooth innocent looking Japanese boy was their age. They watched him play in the water and relax. He looked very content and happy. It helped Brian and Pete relax. They began to enjoy the bath. Brian even splashed some water at Pete who responded by taking a mouthful and spitting it at his brother. Kinto giggled and yanked his swollen dick even harder.

"What's the boy doing now? Is he gonna wash his hair?" The Japanese boy picked up a nice sized round plastic bottle.

"He's not supposed to do that in the tub. Kinto said you soap up outside the tub."

The ten and eleven year old watched with real curiosity as the Japanese boy lifted his little legs up out of the water. He placed one foot and leg up on the side of the pool. Then he lifted himself up right on the edge on his tummy. Then he reached back and rubbed his ass.

"Is he gonna wash his ass?" Brian asked. Pete giggled. But the boy on the screen didn't wash his ass. He took the neck of the bottle and worked it right into the wrinkled little pucker of his asshole.

"Brian, he's shoving the bottle up his ass. How can he do that? That must hurt awful." The boys watched spellbound as the Japanese pre-teen fucked the plastic bottle up into his obviously stretched ass. An unfucked or un-opened ass could never accommodate a bottle like that.

When the bottle was wedged halfway up the little boy's asscunt, he rolled out of the pool onto the tile deck. He lay on his back and lifted his little legs toward whatever camera must be recording this. Over six inches of plastic bottle was up his ass. His little chest rose and fell with labored breathing, his fine little tit points standing up.

"I could never do that, Brian!" Pete said, sliding one hand under water to feel his own ass pucker.

"Eccch! Who would want to? That's really sick."

"But he looks like it feels good. He's smiling."

"He's a freak, Pete. Dad wouldn't want us to watch." But both boys did.

Now the little brown Japanese boy began to play with his tiny dick. He fingered it and it grew stiff. Brian felt his own dick get hard and itchy like it sometimes did on the school bus or when he was in school. It also happened a lot at night in bed.

"He's pulling on his thing really hard. And look, now, he's pushing the bottle in further! God, he's a real freak!"

"He's probably a homo! Pete is your thingy hard? Mine is!"

"Yeah, but I don't know why. This is gross. Let's get out of here!"

Both boys climbed out of the tub, and Kento beheld their stiff little dicks. Brian's was just a bit larger than Petes. Neither boy had much of anything yet. Kinto grunted and the spray of fuck from his pisshole splattered the monitor screen. One! Two! Three! Giant sprays of cum hit the monitor screen and hung there like wall paper paste. Three more lesser spurts fell to the floor.

"Enjoying yourself?" Kinto spun around to see Bike Boy standing there grinning, his hand squeezing the bulge in his black skinny jeans. 'You want some little boy ass? Or some little boy mouth? Or both?

"Mind your own business please! Kinto snapped, blushing and looking down in true Japanese shame style.

"Better get your net pouch on. Mr. Black doesn't like you to disobey." Bike Boy smiled sweetly. "If you a good boy, I might let you suck my big dick later! Or maybe you'd rather smell my ass. Get going, Faggot. Mr. Black is coming and he's going to want to see the boys."

Kinto swore under his breath as he climbed in to the obscene net pouch.

Richard Dickerson was on the phone with his superior from the Agency. He was distraught and beside himself. He was worried sick about his two young sons, and he felt guilty and somewhat repulsed about what he had done with Takashi. He had been simply trying to prepare the young man for his entry into the world of porno, but it had been a pretty miserable flop. Takashi didn't suck dick worth shit. Not that Richard would have been any better. It's really difficult for a straight dude to get into cock sucking. Takashi had coughed and sputtered and gagged. He barely got the large fat dick down into his throat at all. He had flat out refused to lick Richard's ass. Richard felt bad about pushing the young cadet, but after all, the lives of his sons were at stake. As was, Richard feared Takashi would never make any inroads at all into the criminal organization.

So he was on the phone with Mr. Arthur, which of course wasn't his real name. "So, it's up to me to act alone!" Richard told his boss. "Nobody else seems to give a shit about my boys!"

"It's not that, Richard. It's that quite frankly there are bigger things at stake here; the lives of hundreds of boys and young men. This is a major Sex Ring. I'm terribly sorry we didn't inform you at once about your sons being kidnapped, but we've got to consider the bigger picture."

Richard ground his teeth together. "For me there is no bigger picture, Thank you! For me it is now, only personal. Besides, I am getting the feeling all of this foot dragging is really because some very important people want this mission to fail. They want Mr. Black to thrive because they are some of his CLIENTS!"

"That kind of talk, Richard could be very dangerous for you. Even I have to tread softly. It's true that there are some gentlemen in the Senate and House and in the Judicial and Military as well who to partake of what Mr. Black has to offer. We need to break Black's Ring without causing a major American scandal. We need to crush him without stepping on certain toes."

"That's bullshit! I'm going in alone. I need to meet with them. I'll do anything I can to get my sons rleased."

"Richard, that would be committing suicide, and how would your sons fare then? Listen to reason. Just last week an eighteen year old Washington Senate Page was found naked and tied up in the Capitol. There were burn marks on his scrotum and penis. A number two yellow pencil had been shoved up his urethra, and a beer bottle was completely hidden up his rectum. He had large safety pins through his nipples and his dickhead. He had another through his tongue. He had nine thumb tacks stuck in his ball sack. He had twelve more thumb tacks in the bottom of his feet. Tests at Bethesda showed he had been forced to swallow two quarts of semen."

"Pretty fucking sick. Your point?"

"My point, Richard is if something like that can be covered up, then that should give you an idea of how powerful these people are. If the media couldn't run with that story, do you realize how mighty these perverts are? Do you begin to understand how high up they are? We may be able to stop their source...Mr. Black. But we cannot touch them."

"I'm meeting with Mr. Black's people tonight. If I can contact you, I will. If not, wish me luck." Richard disconnected the call. He sank onto the bed feeling a hundred years old.

Takashi was also having a bad day He had tried desperately to set up an appointment with Ryo, the underground film-making link to Mr. Fundoshi, but he had had no luck. Each time he called, he was told by a young male voice that "Mr. Ryo was busy auditioning a boy." How much could that guy fuck anyway? Don't people ever get sick of fucking?

Takashi decided that he had to try to get into Mr. Fundoshi's compound commando style. He was a young and foolish cadet with high hopes of glory. Besides, time was of the essence. But before he did that, he needed to fuck some cunt. Having to suck Richard's dick had thoroughly disgusted Takashi, and it had done no good. Well, it had proven one thing to both of them; Takashi would never be able to be any good at having sex with a male. Ryo probably wouldn't hire him, and thus, Mr. Fundoshi would never meet him. Not that way! Takashi made a sour face. He was sure he could still taste Richard Dickerson's big dick. He had gargled ten times and brushed his teeth four times and was chewing three sticks of gum, and he could still taste cock! It was psychological sure, but it was pretty foul. No, going into the compound by night with great stealth and a loaded Glock was the only way.

But first he needed sex; good, decent, straight sex with a chick to try to forget licking Dickerson's large swinging scrotum. He needed to feel normal again. He dialed Oi.

"Bitch, get your useless ass over to my apartment, now! I don't fucking care what you are doing. I want you there in thirty minutes. And you know how I want you dressed!"