Peter sat in his cubicle and looked down at the sandwich. He felt a rumble in his tight young stomach and something awful rose up into his mouth. He swallowed his bile once again. He had to eat the sandwich. The sandwich his new boss, twenty-five year old Samuel Charlston had prepared for him. The sandwich sat on a plate next to a large mug of his boss's piss. That was his lunch drink.

"You sure you wont' join us at Elrod's? They got that great Friday fish special." cute, enthusiastic Marty MacCloud said to him as he passed his cubicle. Marty was a bundle of energy, always hitting on the girls. Peter sadistically wondered why Mr. Charlston couldn't pick on him instead or Peter. MacCloud was devilishly good looking, all the girls at the office thought so. Why couldn't he be Samuel Charlston's target? The last days had been Hell for poor Peter, a living nightmare.

Peter shifted in his chair and his swollen balls send waves of pain through his body. His nuts were the size of oranges and throbbed with constant horrendous torment. Mr. Charlston had punished Peter. To be fair, he had warned Peter that he would be punished for any infraction of rules or less than perfect performance of commands. He had beaten Peters scrotum with a wooden ruler. He had smacked the fuck sack twenty-five times. Peter's screams had filled the empty after-hours office, echoing off the large glass windows looking down on the city. Peter had been naked of course, as he almost always was with Mr. Charlston. He had been sitting in a large swivel desk chair, his strong legs hooked over the arms so that his fat dick and balls were made easy targets. But the kindly Samuel Charlston had grabbed some cellophane tape from the desk and gently taped Peter's dick tube out of the way, making the heavy scrotum an even easier target. Have you ever been kicked int he balls? As a kid maybe during some sports game? Or perhaps you've been at the receiving end of some rough lover's administrations. Samuel Charlston was no lover. He used every bit of his considerable young stud strength to really lay into Peter's ball sack.

"I warned you, my punishments are pretty intense. I don't think you'll be fucking up again any time soon," he grunted, smacking the wooden ruler into Peter's right nut.

"AHHHHHHHH! Ugh! My wife...my wife will see my bruised balls."

"Ha! Tell her you had an accident at the gym. Who knows, maybe she will lick them for you to ease the discomfort! Maybe you can get your sons to lick them for you too. Which of your boys do you think would make the better ball licker, the eight or the ten year old? The eight year old might have trouble even getting one of your big swollen nuts into his little mouth. He's going to make a really cute cocksucker when he gets a little older though." Samuel had an afterthought. "Not that he's not old enough to suck dick at eight. I had my dick in the mouth of my six year old nephew last week. My sister's boy. A real little cutie. I been working on him regular, you know to get him used to dick. Each time I shove it in a little more. He has to open his mouth really wide just to get the head in...you know my dick head is pretty fucking large. Even you gag, so imagine a six year old boy. But I do get a few more inches in every time. I take him off of my sister's hands one day every week. It's our day together. He is, needless to say, terrified of 'our day together.' But he's even more terrified of what I will do if he tells his mommy. So he keeps his little mouth shut, except when sucking dick or licking my balls or ass."

In between portions of this monologue, Samuel brought the ruler soundly down on Peter's reddening, swelling ball bag. "Have you ever had a six year old lick your balls, Peter? Did you ever try that with either of your boys when they were younger? No? Well, let me tell you, you missed out on something great. The feel of a soft six year old tongue lapping at your wrinkled scrotum is fucking incredible. A six year old's tongue is like velvet. Not like your tongue Peter. Don't get me wrong, I have appreciated you licking my balls thus far, and I know you are going to get lots better at it. But a fully adult man's tongue on one's scrotal sack cannot compare with the soft virginal tongue of a six year old tyke!"

Thank God the scrotal beating had come after the agonizing couple of hours at the gym. The exclusive private health club was located in the same massive skyscraper office building in which Peter and Samuel Worked. Ninety-five percent of the people employed in the building could never afford the health club. Samuel took Peter as a guest. Peter was astonished at the luxury and grandeur of the place. Chrome that was so highly polished it's glint made one squint. Black and white tiles, spotless. Two beefy muscle boys whose only job was to circulate with towels rubbing the sweat off of the equipment.

In the spotless black and white locker room, Peter stood helpless. Samuel stripped off his shirt to reveal his ripped young body and kicked off his expensive Italian shoes. "Come on, babe, undress!" He smiled at Peter. Samuel opened his locker and carefully hung his twelve hundred dollar trousers on a hook, followed by his dress shirt and tie. He tossed his socks and shoes into the bottom and turned to face Peter dressed in only his boxer brief shorts which did little to conceal his huge hunk of fuckmeat. Some men have penises, others have fuckers. They are built not for peeing, but obviously for fucking. They hang there, ready fuck at all times. Everyone who sees them can tell they are true fuckers! Samuel watched Peter shift awkwardly from foot to foot staring all the while at his boss's massive pecker, the pecker he had been sucking for two days now. Peter's first dick as a sucker. You never forget the first dick you suck. It stays with you your entire life.

"You like it, huh?" Samuel laughed peeling down his underpants to reveal the thick fuck sausage in all its wrinkled fleshy glory. Peter tried to look away. Samuel stepped into his jock strap and pulled it up. "Are you going to get undressed, or what?"

Peter knew it was a cruel question. He had no gym gear with him. No tee shirt, no jock strap., no gym shorts, no athletic shoes or socks. Samuel slipped on his blue gym shorts and sat down on the bench to put on his sweat socks and exercise shoes. He glared at Peter. "Get undressed, that is not a fucking request...that is an order." Other businessmen of various ages walked passed, some in towels, some totally naked, meat and sacks swinging. They chatted about the stock market, or sports, or cunt.

Peter nodded his head in humiliated defeat. "Very funny. You know I don't have any gym gear!"

"Relax, pretty boy, " Samuel slid into a tee shirt. "I've got everything you need in my gym bag. So undress already!"

Peter stripped naked. He had been forbidden by his boss to wear underwear, so undressing was an easy task. He soon stood bare assed naked in front of his boss. Samuel let him stand that way, nervously twitching and turning his head to see if he was being looked at. Totally unnecessary, naked men are a usual sight for a health club locker room. Samuel tied his shoes and then looked up at Peter.

"Oh, yeah, your gym clothes." He reached into his gym bag and produced what could only be described as the most obscene article of clothing Peter had ever seen. It was the color of women's nylons and made of almost the same material. It was as sheer as that. It was a kind of jock or bikini swim suit but of that sheer, see through nylon look that left nothing to the imagination.

"I can't wear this, Sir. Not out there. Not with all those men."

Samuel got his petulant look. His pretty mouth pouted. "You can and you will, Peter. And you can be sure I will add a couple of good nut sack swats to your punishment for questioning my judgement. I am your boss. You do as I say. Not put on the suit. I'm sure you will look quite attractive in it."

It was disgusting. His entire dick and balls were on clear display. It was worse than going out naked. He would have to work out with other men watching, dressed in this faggy see through pouch. AND WATCH THEY DID. They not only watched, they laughed and whispered and pointed and laughed some more. Even the trainers who worked there could barely suppress their giggles at the "NEW FAGGOT AT THE HEALTH CLUB." Samuel went about his business, enjoying immensely the stares and comments Peter got. It was an agonizing few hours for Peter.

But not as agonizing as the homework assignment Peter had that night. First, he had to slip some knockout drops into his wife's wine. You can imagine the self-loathing he felt doing this to the woman he loved.

Then, when his two boys were sound asleep with the same potion, he had stripped the kids naked. He had undressed himself, feeling dirty and perverted standing naked in his sons' bedroom. He kept telling himself he had no choice, but of course we always do have a choice, don't we?

Peter felt the soft, smooth bodies of his two sons. Their skin felt velvet soft next to his, as Peter crawled into the small twin bed where he had positioned his two boys. He had set up the camera on a tripod.

He heard a noise, and in a moment's panic, he jumped from his son's bed and ran bare assed naked, balls and dick flapping into his own bedroom to check on his wife. She lay there, sound asleep with the aid of the drops.

Peter started to cry. Could he go through with this? He padded on big bare feet back to his son's room. The boys lay there on the single bed, naked as the day they were born, slender legs spread out, tiny dicks and balls shwoing int he bedroom lamp light. Peter switched on the bright overhead ceiling light. It made everything even more obscene and ugly. Once again he climbed onto the bed, settling himself between his naked sons. Jared drooled just a bit in his sleep and the spit dripped onto Peter's hairy thigh. Peter nervously spread his strong masculine legs, easing his sons over them. Then Peter maneuvered the heads of his sons so they were lying one on each of his thighs.

The boys were so beautiful. They each had angelic faces, delicate little noses, long eyelashes, and full pouty lips. Samuel had called them "COCKSUCKER LIPS." Peter realized that the boys' bodies were slightly twisted from his lifting and positioning them. He straightened their little limbs. He on ce again rested their heads on this thighs, faces pointing in at each other. Then he arranged himself a bit better, so his fat dick and balls were clearly displayed toward the camera. Next, with trembling hands, he moved his sons' heads closer to his fuckmeat. What he was about to do would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He placed his boy's faces, eight and ten years old, on either side of his thick meaty dick and his full floppy balls. Had they been awake, they would have been repulsed by the smell of sweaty dickmeat. It was nervous sweat. Peter had showered thoroughly before undertaking this exercise in horror. He looked up at the camera and smiled, a fake, frightened, frozen smile. He snapped a photo. Next, he moved the boys' faces in closer, almost touching the fucker, the fucker that had brought them into this world. 'SNAP!'

Next he moved the children's faces so their lips touched either side of the dick root. Jesus! He could feel their soft young lips on his prick stalk. He could feel their velvet soft lips on his wrinkled cock skin! "SNAP!" He adjusted their faces to show a bit more of them and moved his dick so that each of the boy's lips touched it. And his fuckmeat jumped. It twitched and stretched.

Jesus Christ, he was getting a hard on. He was getting a hard on from the feel of his little boys' lips on his pecker! Peter felt his nipples tighten. He felt his stomach flutter. He felt his dick grow. Longer and longer, thicker and thicker his fuckmeat expanded. He threw a fullfledged hard on. He sat there int he kid's bed, looking down at his throbbing, growing meat. He was like an Alian outsider watching with fascination some miracle of the universe. Why was his dick getting hard? Why now? He felt a bit of wet at the pisshole. HE WANTED TO MOVE HIS SONS' HEADS ASIDE, BUT HE COULD NOT. HE SAT THERE HELPLESS. THE DICK GREW AND THROBBED AND PULSED. He felt his boys's sweet breath on his dick. The breath made the fucker twitch even more. Peter started to cry. He was hysterical, but he could not move.

Somehow he managed the strength to lift his arms and put his hands on his boys' heads. He tried to move them away from his throbbing dick, but found instead to his horror that his hands were pushing his sons' faces INWARD, TOWARD THE DICK. HE PRESSED THE LITTLE BOY FACES AGAINST THE PULSING PRICKMEAT. He fucked his erect dick back and forth between the soft faces of his sons! He could not control himself. He pushed Jared's face down toward his dickhead. Spurts of pre-fuck covered his son's face. Why was he doing this? What had possessed him? It was evil!

He moved his dick so the cock sauce slop covered his boy's face and glistened on it. Then he covered James' face with more dick leak. Every time he looked from now on at his boys'f faces, he would imagine them covered in cock slop! His chest rose as he gulped in air, pert pointed nipples pointing up toward the ceiling fan. He curled his big toes, grunted and sperm shot out from his pulsing pecker. It splattered onto his legs and his sons' bodies and the bed sheets. All the crying Peter could think of was that he would have to clean up this mess.

And now, Peter sat staring at his lunch. A ham sandwich prepared by Mr. Charlston. A ham sandwich on which the meat and lettuce were soaked with cum! Like his boys' faces had been soaked with his pre-fuck. Peter read for the hundredth time the memo from his boss.

Peter:

I hope you enjoy your lunch.

Come into my office at two o'clock today. I am going to fuck your ass.

Send your house key to me. Your wife, I know will be gone all day, so I am taking the opportunity to have tiny cameras installed in your bedroom, your bathrooms, and your sons' bedroom. Don't worry, they are so tiny, your wife will never see them. But that way, I can watch you when you fuck your wife, and I can also watch your beautiful boys. Love the photos of your boys pressed up nice and close to your big dick. The erection was an added bonus. Thanks.

The large jar on your desk, is for your sons. Starting tonight you are going to feel them one tablespoon each of my special vitamin mixture. Tell them your boss is concerned about their health. I don't mind if you tell them I am a health nut. You can tell your wife whatever you want. Each boy will be fed one tablespoon in the morning before school, and one at bedtime. You will do this in the boys' room where I can watch. It is a healthy vitamin mixture.

Only you and I will know that it is really one hundred percent horse sperm. Your boys are gong to be eating horse cum twice a day. Isn't that precious?

I want you to go to a porno book store and purchase a nine inch dildo. We need to get started on your ass. And tonight, I want to watch you fuck your wife on camera. Make sure the bed clothes are pulled down, so I can see your hot ass as your ram your dick into your wife's cunt. By the way, do you fuck her in the ass? If not, you will have to start to convince her to accept that. Within a few days, I want to see some hot ass fucking as well.

Peter trembled, shook his head and took a bite of his sperm ham sandwich.