Daemon Way

Teacher

Chapter Twelve

Cory slept in Sunday morning, as he did every Saturday and Sunday, and woke up to the smell of bacon frying and with a raging morning wood. Bacon, chilled apple juice, and blueberry pancakes was his dad's Sunday morning special every Sunday. A morning wood was Cory's special every morning. Reaching down and fiddling with his sleep damp balls, he thought of yesterday and the tape he'd made of Goosey Gilles and his sons and his stiff cocklet twitched. Slipping a thumb and first two fingers about it, he squeezed it and began to tug on it. He had time for a quick jerk. He glanced over at his growing collection of videos featuring Julius Gilles and smiled. Anthony would pop a boner before they even got to the part where they were sucking on the banana! He turned his attention to his own banana. Actually, it was more like a pork sausage he thought, a nice size pork sausage for a thirteen-year-old, but still kid size. The pleasure throbbing through it though was very much adult size, and he arched his back and sighed as he delighted in it. He would forever be in Anthony's debt for having shared the secret of beating off with him. He raised the fingers of his left hand to his nose. The fragrance of his sleep damp balls was even better than that of bacon and pancakes. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the awesome delight of his approaching orgasm.

After breakfast, he pocketed the video he'd made yesterday at the Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys showing Goosey Gilles teaching his two youngest boys how to suck, and headed for Anthony's. To his disappointment, nobody was home. So, he headed over to see Terry, his second best friend. Terry's dad greeted him at the door with the information that Terry would not be seeing anyone that day, and possibly would never see anyone again. He was grounded to his room indefinitely. From the scowl on Terry's dad's face, Cory decided it best not to ask why. Knowing Terry and his disregard for rules, especially those that didn't make any sense, he could have been grounded for any one of a hundred reasons. Grownups had a lot of dumb rules that didn't make any sense. Also from the scowl on Terry's dad's face, he knew there was little point of trying to use his headband to get Terry's dad to give his buddy a reprieve. He wasn't that good at using it yet, and there were some things he figured even his headband was incapable of doing. Changing the minds of angry dads was one of them.

"Would you like me to take Lad out for a walk?" he offered. Terry's dad hrumphed and thought about it, and then mumbling something about at least some teenage boys having some sense of responsibility, he thanked him and got Lad's leash. As he headed down the street, the eighty-five-pound [38½kg] German Shepard leading the five-foot [1.50m], ninety-three-pound [42kg] boy, he agreed that he had some sense of responsibility. He was responsible for Anton and François learning how to give excellent blow jobs for example. He grinned despite the day turning out to be a bit of a bummer after such an excellent start. One thing nobody could accuse him of was not having a sense of humour.

Arriving at the park, he picked a spot as far away from the 'All pets MUST be kept on a leash' signs as he could so he could claim not to have seen them, and let Lad loose. The German Shepard immediately took off to explore. Cory wasn't much for following rules that didn't make any sense either. Pets weren't meant to be on a leash. Nor were kids for that matter, and a lot of adults-hell, all adults, had leashes for kids of some sort to stop them from having fun. Taking one of the two cigarettes out of his sock where he hid them to smuggle them out of the house, he lit up and laid back to enjoy his smoke and day dream about an island where there were only kids and where a guy could do whatever he wanted, which mostly was laying around smoking and having fun and doing nothing. A couple old biddies walked by and one of them commented about how young boys shouldn't be smoking. He gave her the finger, which caused her eyes to bulge and her mouth to open and close like the fish down in Robb's Pet Store. He wondered what it would be like to fuck a wrinkled up old lady. He'd really make her eyes bulge and her mouth gasp. He giggled.

Finishing his cigarette, he sat up and looked around for Lad. Spotting Reverend Winthrop and his family setting out a lunch on one of the tables in the picnic area of the park, a Sunday ritual of the Winthrops, Cory called Lad and putting his leash on, headed over in their direction. He did not particularly like Reverend Winthrop, who was forever complaining how bad kids were these days and who never passed by their yard without stopping to tell his dad how he should be raising him. He was hungry though despite the heaping stack of pancakes and half dozen strips of bacon he'd had for breakfast, having the ravenous appetite of a growing teenage boy. His mom joked that he had to have a hollow leg. Being good Christians, at least he thought Baptists were Christians though he wasn't certain, surely they'd offer him something to eat. If they didn't there was Jonah. Maybe the two of them could slip off and have a bit of fun, like they'd done the previous Sunday. That was the other never ending appetite he had, sex. Maybe he had hollow balls too, he figured with a grin.

Jonathan Winthrop was actually pleased to see Cory approaching. He had at first been alarmed seeing the boy and his son Jonah together at the Interfaith assembly last Sunday, knowing the evil influences improperly raised boys could have on other young boys, particularly in that all boys easily succumb to temptations if their parents are not vigilant, and knowing Cory's parents were far from vigilant, by his standards at least. However, seeing the boy sit beside his son during the sermon, and seeing the look of intent concentration in his eyes, he could only conclude that it had been his son who had exerted the influence, for the betterment of Cory Wilson's soul, and not the other way around. He'd have felt a lot different seeing Cory again had he known that Cory's look of concentration was because he'd blocked out the sermon and was recalling the circle jerk he, Jonah, and young Dominic had engaged in only minutes earlier.

As Cory had suspected, he was invited to join them, and he discovered Jonah's mother was an awesome cook, which made up for having to listen to Jonah's father's blessing of the food and request of the Lord that he guide the young people about to partake in it. He wondered if Satanists asked Satan to bless their food. Four pieces of cold herb-roasted chicken, two heaps of potato salad, several homemade buns, and a large piece of peach cobbler later, the first of his appetites was satiated, at least until supper. So, he turned his focus on satisfying his second appetite. Asking if Jonah might join him in giving Lad a bit of exercise, both he and Jonah were surprised and delighted when the Reverend agreed, and told Jonah that Cory was an example he should model, taking the time to take the dog of a friend who was indisposed, as Cory had put it, for his daily exercise, and reminding the boys and his other children that the Lord had placed the care and welfare of all animals in the hands of his servants.

And so the two boys and Lad merrily headed off as you see dozens of boys and their dogs doing in parks across the country every day. As they approached the edge of the park where Lad had his encounters with his two-legged bitch, the German Shepard took off like a flash, and being young and muscular, he pulled Cory along with him, though Cory wasn't exactly hesitating. He hadn't decided exactly what he and Jonah should do to satisfy his second need, but doing it in the seclusion of the clearing on the other side of the bushes was as good a place as any. Actually, it sort of being Lad's territory, they could possibly include him in whatever it was they ended up doing. Of course that meant Lad would miss out on his usual rendezvous with his bitch at six-thirty, but keeping the two apart would just make the two of them all the more eager to fuck when they did meet, and seeing the disappointment on Julius's face was as much fun as seeing him getting fucked.

"This is the place you first saw Lad, isn't it?" Cory asked, figuring it was as good a way as any to begin a conversation that would lead to something sexual. Jonah nodded shyly as the seven-year-old recalled slipping into the bushes to take a leak after their family picnic, being a typical boy and figuring the bushes were just as good and the public toilets being much farther away, and to his surprise, finding a dog and a naked guy doing what you usually saw two dogs doing in the park or in the street. "Lad sure had fun that day didn't he?" Cory continued, and again Jonah nodded. He wasn't sure, but it had looked like Lad had, and it looked like the man had too. He'd thought about that quite a bit since that day, and why his father became angry when he saw two dogs doing what he'd watched the man and dog doing he understood even less. "Speaking of fun, you, me and Dominic had some fun last Sunday too, didn't we?"

"Yeah," Jonah said quietly, his smooth, soft cheeks colouring as he thought about the three of them getting naked and swimming and playing with each other's testicles, and then Cory teaching them about jacking off.

"So, have you tried doing what we did that afternoon since?" Jonah smiled sheepishly, his deep blue eyes sparkling as he nodded his head ever so slightly, as if the slightness of his nod lessened the gravity of what he'd done. "Yeah, right on! How many times? Once, twice?"

Jonah paused before answering, not because he was ashamed or embarrassed to answer, but because he was counting. "Seven."

"Seven! Fucking right on!" Cory said with a wide grin as he gave the seven-year-old a high five, causing the youngster to smile and his eyes to sparkle even brighter. Being particularly shy and having no close friends considering the attitude of his father, he was particularly delighted to have praise and acceptance from a peer. "You know, its sort of hot out here," Cory continued as he began to unbutton his shirt. "Much too hot a day to be wearing clothes." Chucking his shirt, he pulled down his fly and pushed down his jeans and his underwear together. "Com'on, let's get naked." Jonah glanced around uncertainly. It was hot, but God, and his father, did not approve of nudity. "Don't worry, nobody can see. This is way out of the way, and even if someone did come by this part of the park, they wouldn't bother pushing through those bushes." That was true. "Com'on. It feels great feeling the sun and air on your dickey and balls. And we can have a little fun while we're naked before we head back."

The memory of the fun they'd had the previous Sunday and the promise of more fun was convincing enough for Jonah, though after even only seven years of brain washing it wasn't without a little guilt that he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off and folding it up neatly lay it on the grass. After untying his shoes and removing them, he self-consciously pulled down his fly and pushed down his trousers and stepped out of them and folded them and stacked them on top of his shirt. Standing on one foot and then the other, he removed his socks and delighted in the feel of the fresh green grass between his toes. Cory watched him with growing excitement, surprised how arousing it was to watch a seven-year-old boy undress, unaware that there were men that would pay big money to watch what he was watching. His little pee-er made the slightest little bulge in the pocket of his white briefs. "Com'on, your underwear too."

"Maybe this is far enough."

"Don't be silly. Com'on, take them off," Cory urged. "It feels great," he promised, spreading his legs and exposing his balls and partially aroused cock to the sun and air and to Jonah as he looked up at the innocent seven-year-old. He knew he could use his headband if he had to, but he wanted the youngster to do it because he wanted to on his own. Jonah hesitated, opened his mouth to disagree, and deciding otherwise, closed his mouth again as he quickly pushed down his underwear and sat down on the grass all in one motion. "Holy shit!" Jonah stared at the grass, his eyes now filled with apprehension and regret. "Stand up." Jonah looked up at Cory pleadingly, and then ever so slowly got to his feet and faced him, close to tears. He was used to being given orders and obeying them. "What the fuck happened to your ass?" Cory asked in surprise as he bent around to look at the seven-year-old's backside.

"Father punished me."

"For jacking off?"

"Oh no! He'd strap me much harder for doing that!"

"Strap you? What did he use?"

"A willow switch."

"The fucking bastard."

"You mustn't call him that."

"The hell I shouldn't. Why'd he strap you?"

"Because I passed gas at the supper table."

"You did what?"

"You know," Jonah replied, and when Cory clearly didn't, he placed a palm under his arm and making a farting noise.

"You farted?" Cory asked with a snort.

Jonah nodded. "I didn't mean to, but Father said I did, that I did it on purpose. He says boys are naturally vulgar. He said maybe next time I'm tempted to do it I'll remember the pain and think twice."

Cory wanted to curse Jonah's father again but he bit off the comment. "Does it hurt bad?"

Jonah shook his head. "Not anymore. It was a couple days ago."

Cory could not believe it. A couple days ago, and yet he could see the red swipes across Jonah's otherwise pale white ass. Lad, as if in sympathy and as if sensing the mood of the two boys, suddenly stepped up and gave Jonah's backside a very wet lick, causing the two boys to giggle. As they tried to push him away, he figured it was play time, and the two naked boys and dog spent the next several minutes rolling round in the grass with Lad finding many places to lick and causing the boys to giggle all the more, quickly forgetting their earlier mood.

"Can I ask you something?" Jonah finally asked as the boys got Lad under control.

"Sure."

"How does a dog's thing come out?"

"Come out?"

"You know. Like right now it's, well, hid inside him."

"Oh. I never thought about it actually. I guess it just sort of grows out. You know, like a guy's dick grows when he plays with it."

"Oh."

"Let's find out."

"Huh?"

"Lay down on your back."

Jonah obediently lay down on his back and Cory after several attempts in which Lad licked the boy's face and then his smooth chest and wanted to play again, he got Lad to straddle the boy and stop from licking. He then instructed Jonah to reach up and stroke and squeeze Lad's pouch like he'd shown him to do to his dick the previous Sunday. With Lad's pouch only a hand's breadth away from his eyes, Jonah reached up and placing a thumb on one side of the hairy sack and his first two fingers on the other, he gently began to massage the tube he could feel inside the loose skin. Even though Lad had never been fondled in such a way before, he was accustomed to being petted by children, and besides, it was not an unpleasant experience, so he made no objection. It did not take much massaging before Lad's cock began to protrude from his pouch before their very eyes. The two boys watched spellbound as it slowly emerged from its sack, and encouraged by the result of his fondling and by Cory's praise, Jonah massaged the hairy sack all the more eagerly with his thumb and two fingers. Soon all six inches [15cm] of solid, red cock was sticking out of his pouch. Curious, Cory felt the dog's slimy-looking cock and gave it a couple strokes with his thumb and first two fingers as he was accustomed to doing his own dick, and just as curious, Jonah followed suit.

"Let's jack him off," Cory suggested. Jonah looked up at him. "Go ahead, keeping doing it. He likes it." Lad certainly seemed to, and knowing the pleasure he himself felt, Jonah squeezed the dog's rubbery, damp cock with his thumb and first two fingers and began to stroke. Cory smiled. Reverend Winthrop had said Lad's care was in their hands after all. If the oh so pure Reverend could only see what his son was doing at that moment! After only a half dozen strokes, Lad of course did what dogs do, he began to cum. The boys were not expecting it so soon, and his first two squirts, the first streaking across Jonah's nose and right cheek and the second hitting his upper lip and running down into his open mouth, caught the boys by surprise. Although totally unexpected, having previously sucked Lad's cum from Julius Gilles's asshole, the taste of his cum was neither new nor disgusting to the seven-year-old although the initial shots were much saltier.

"Hey, awesome water fountain you're drinking from!" Cory joked, and Jonah, wishing to amuse his new buddy, tried to catch the next two squirts in his mouth, only half succeeding with the first streaking his chin and running down his neck and the next totally missing his mouth and streaking his smooth chest. Cory's boyish giggle encouraged Jonah to continue stroking the now steadily spurting cock, his own little cocklet having become stiff itself and jerking with arousal as Lad's hot sperm laced his smooth chest and little nipples. As Lad's knot began to form, the two boys watched it grow with the fascination only boys can have for such things, ignoring the fact Jonah's chest was becoming coated with doggy slime. Once his knot was fully formed, Lad did what all dogs do, he began spurting cum more vigorously and copiously, the thick, white doggy slime now puddling on Jonah's slender, smooth chest. Lad began to instinctively jerk his hips, causing Jonah to loose his hold and sending doggy cum spraying in all directions. The four-foot [1.20m], fifty-pound [23kg] boy desperately grabbed the spurting cock like a fireman grasping a getaway hose, grasping Lad behind his knot to give him a firmer grip on the slimy, rubbery cock. Feeling Jonah's hot little hand tightly wrapped about his throbbing cock, Lad instinctively stopped humping and stood there passively as if locked up a female's cunt as he continued to pump out his now creamy, thick cum. His huge black balls finally emptied, Lad was quite content to back off and lay down beside Jonah to lick himself clean to the amusement and envy of the two boys.

Drawing his knees up toward his chest and wrapping his arms under them and hooking them behind his knees, Jonah hugged himself, raising his hips into the air and exposing his perfect little ass to Cory. It was an automatic response, a position he often assumed to comfort himself after being punished by his father. Looking down at the puddles of dog slime spattering his chest, and recalling Lad screwing Julius Gilles and filling his ass with his cum, Jonah wondered what it would feel like to have the hot slime up his bum. Innocent and uninhibited as boys naturally are at that age, he scooped up a dollop of Lad's thick, creamy load with his first two fingers and tried to work it into his rectum. Feeling the hot, sticky doggy slime oozing along the cord between his bumhole and his tiny balls, and having his fingers rubbing and stroking his sensitive little pucker, his little hardon encased in its tight foreskin jerked with arousal.

Telling him to coat his middle finger with cum, Cody instructed him on how to slip his finger up his butthole based on the dozens of porno stories he'd read about guys doing it. Inserting his middle finger as far as he could, Jonah began to ease it in and out of his rectum as Cody instructed. Once again he squirmed with pleasure thanks to Cody, this time from the burning sensation about his tight little pucker and from the weird sensation of having his finger probing up his hot, moist rectum. Already fully aroused, the young, blond-haired boy gasped and sighed with the pleasure pulsating through until then a totally ignored part of his body. He licked his rosy, parted lips and his thin, cum spattered chest rose and fell as he concentrated on the new pleasure and the familiar but strange pressure developing deep in his loins. Finally throwing his head back and groaning with the sweet pain, he convulsed with his dry orgasm.

Kneeling there beside the gasping, quivering boy, who still had his buttocks raised in the air with his stiff cocklet, the size of his little finger, pointing down accusingly at him, Cory gingerly ran his fingertips over the sensitive, baby-smooth globes which were more accustomed to being strapped than caressed. "Want me to finger fuck you?" Cory asked, his voice husky with arousal. Still recovering from his dry orgasm and feeling the pleasure of Cory's gentle caresses on his buttocks, Jonah nodded, his deep blue eyes looking up at the thirteen-year-old with gratitude and admiration. Dipping his middle finger in the deeper puddle of dog slime on Jonah's chest and coating it from tip to knuckle, Cody slowly stuck his finger up Jonah's little boy ass, surprised and delighted at the heat and moisture as Jonah's rectum encased his finger. He slowly began to work his finger in and out as Jonah had only minutes ago done to himself, and once again the naked youngster began to inhale and exhale deeply with the return of that new pleasure. He arched his back and groaned with delight, Cory's finger being bigger and longer than his own, and it being somehow even more pleasurable having someone else doing it to him than doing it to himself.

Cory had read a lot about finger fucking in the porn Anthony had shared with him, and had on occasion caressed his own butthole when jacking off, but he'd never gone so far as to finger fuck himself, and he'd never gone so far as to suggest it to Anthony or Terry. Seeing Jonah's reaction upon doing it to himself, and the thrill he was getting at the moment doing it to Jonah, that was going to change. Already near the point of orgasm from having watched Jonah jack off Lad and having watched Lad soak the seven-year-old with his ball slime, Cory delighted in the familiar growing pressure deep in his loins as he worked his finger in and out of Jonah's ass. Young and randy, Jonah looked forward to his second climax also, and as the naked, slimed seven-year-old bucked and trembled with his second dry orgasm, Cody bucked and trembled with delight also, thrusting his hips forward and spraying Jonah's chest, adding his own load of cum to Lad's.

Chapter Thirteen

Bob Moser glanced at his watch. Six-twenty-five. Julius Gilles would be there in five minutes. The man was as regular as clockwork. He began heading for the dense bush on the edge of the park that hid the freeway on the other side and helped to block out the noise. It had been kept largely in its natural state to dissuade park users from using it in order to maintain the bush as a natural boundary.

"Hey, Mister Moser!"

The groundskeeper turned at the sound of the familiar voice and his lips curled into a smile as the lean, darkly handsome teenager flipped up his skateboard and ran over to join him. "Hey Lane my man, how gozit?" he asked, giving the thirteen-year-old a high five.

"Kewel. An' you?"

"Same. Great to see you." Of the many things he missed about his former life, one of the things he missed the most was the spark and life of his teenage students and being a part of that vibrancy.

"You too." Bob Moser's students missed him as much as he missed them, and those who hadn't frequented Riverside Westbank Park before did so now in the hopes of running into him just to say hi, or to talk, about their lives, about things that were bothering them. Bob Moser was one of those rare adults who listened, and who cared.

"So, how'd the big game with Saint Pat's go on Saturday?"

"Fu-freaking wicked," Lane responded, catching himself before he swore. With an adult as cool as Bob Moser it was easy to slip into one's usual teenage vernacular even if the former teacher and coach was pushing sixty. "It was neck and neck all the way through the game, first Saint Pat's leading and then Glencoe. It was awesome, but we won, by one point!"

"Sounds great. Wish I'd been there to see it." Though the court case had exonerated him, Bob knew there were still suspicions and rumours, and that his presence would not be wanted by certain individuals, powerful individuals. He glanced at his watch. Julius Giles would be there in three minutes. "Bet that made your brother happy."

"Spence ain't team captain no more."

"He isn't?"

"No. The new coach replaced him with his son."

"He did?" Bob asked in surprise. "I can't believe Will Granger would do such a thing."

"Mister Granger didn't get the coaching job," Lane said dejectedly. Will Granger, another popular teacher, had stepped in to coach the team when Bob had been suspended and the team had hoped he'd continue when Bob was dismissed even though he was already coaching Glencoe's swim team.

"He didn't? Then who got the job?"

"Julian's father. Julius Gilles. Or as everyone calls him, Goosey Gilles," Lane replied bitterly. "Word is he sucked up big time to the Chairman of the Board, and made a huge donation."

Bob Moser was aware of his former fellow teacher's nickname, being in touch with the youth he taught and coached, just as he was aware of their nickname for him, Moose. Unlike the name used for Gilles, who did walk and act like a goose and whose name was derogatory, his was a name spoken with reverence and respect. He had actually gotten it from a close buddy and fellow teammate back when he was a high school soccer player from his method of playing soccer, and of course in reference to his size, which back then was six-foot-two [1.88m] and close to two-hundred pounds [90kg], fifty pounds [23kg] lighter than he was now, age and a weakness for the good things in life having resulted in a noticeable beer gut. Somehow his students had found out about the name and had naturally adopted it and passed it on to upcoming grades. He glanced at his watch again. Two minutes.

"Well, hey I gotta go."

The boy was lying. Bob could see it in his eyes, and in his voice. Teenage boys were not good liars, and he'd been a teacher and around them far to long not to know when they were telling the truth and when they were not. "Hey, no, that's all right."

"No, really. You got work to do."

"No, I'm off work," Bob replied. Of course the boy had to have noticed him glancing at his watch and had to think he didn't have time or wasn't interested in talking to him. Bob frowned. Hell, six months ago he'd never have been so inconsiderate. "How's Spence feel about Julian replacing him?"

"Pissed off. Julian's a great player and got the smarts when it comes to the game, but he's a bit of a snob and got an ego that's a pain in the ass and he's no way as good as Spence. Sides, everyone knows there's only one reason he got the position."

"And the rest of the team?"

"They feel same," Lane replied with a shrug. "It's Gilles that everyone totally hates though. The man's way too strict and a sarcastic son of a bitch besides. Sorry for my language, but he really is. Like there's totally no talking or kidding around during practice like you allowed. If a guy puts another in a headlock or something just for fun, it's two dozen pushups. If a guy makes a poor pass he says the guy kicks like a girl, or if the goalie misses blocking he asks if he's afraid of the wittle ball, stuff like that. We really wish you were back. Things just ain't the same."

Bob looked at the boy, and then over at the bushes. "Come with me. I have something to show you." Bob turned and ducking down low, pushed his way into the thick bush without giving his decision a second thought. If nothing else it would lift Lane's morale. Surprised and perplexed, Lane followed him. Crouching down in the tall grass and dense shrubbery, Bob smiled. Today the German Shepard was there. Lane was really going to see a show.

As he crouched there waiting, Bob thought back on his life, the last ten months anyway, something he'd been doing frequently and with growing bitterness and anger. Life takes mysterious turns. Last December he was on the top of the world, highly successful as a junior high teacher, respected by his peers and loved by his students, a beloved high school soccer coach, and a trusted cub scout leader. Then one day he spotted a backpack in the Baptist church parking lot and brought it in with him, thinking that one of his cub scouts had left it outside. Seeing him coming in with the backpack, Reverend Winthrop took it upon himself to check out the contents while Bob was in the basement of the church hall with his cub pack. Discovering a bag of pot and a copy of The Village Voice, the pastor immediately contacted the police and turned over his evidence. Envious of Bob's popularity and the way the youth looked to him for moral guidance instead of himself, and suspicious of the motives of the man who took such delight in being with young boys and whom he considered an aging hippy and flower child from the way he kept his long, grey-streaked dirty brown hair in a ponytail and from his casual dress, the evidence proved his suspicions beyond a doubt. He also saw it as an excellent way to get into the limelight and promote his own righteousness and moral agenda.

The Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys Board of Trustees immediately suspended his teaching contract and removed him from his position as the school's soccer coach, and the Regional Council of Scouts America temporarily dismissed him as the Riverside Westbank Cub Scout Leader. The Reverend's accusation of immoral behaviour and the official charges of selling pot to the cub scouts, counselling them to perform indecent acts, and molesting them during their overnight outings didn't hold up in court but by the time they had the hearing the school year was almost over.

The Board of Trustees terminated his contract, stating bluntly and simply that the controversy had hurt the Academy and several parents had threatened to withdraw their children if they kept him on staff. Of course they didn't want him coaching their children either. The Chairman of the Board, a pompous and uncaring asshole, had smiled at him condescendingly and assured him that it was simply a financial matter, nothing personal. He applied to the public school system but his application wasn't even acknowledged, and whenever he phoned, John Halder the Superintendent of Schools was conveniently never available. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to know he was being ignored. Even though found not guilty, there had been enough controversy and suspicion for him to also lose his scout position. He knew he could win if he protested even though he didn't have the support of several powerful people on the Council, especially Helen Ballard with whom he'd had frequent clashes on the philosophy of scouting and what was appropriate activity for boys. Besides, again there were paranoid parents who would withdraw their children from the cub program and the parents who kept their children in would always be suspicious of him. Staying would only hurt the kids he enjoyed working with. Even some of his closest friends, many of them fellow teachers, believed the Reverend rather than him and the courts, and that hurt almost as much as not being able to work with children. Even the Catholic Bishop, Bishop Henry, got into the act even though he wasn't Catholic, giving his support to Pastor Winthrop and calling for stricter character background checks for anyone working with children, using the event of course to promote Catholicism and as an opportunity to grab some of the limelight himself.

So, he ended up taking on the job of groundskeeper for the Riverside Westbank Park, and for the past five months his hatred of the Reverend, his former friends, and those directly responsible for taking away everything he loved festered and grew. It was more than the loss of his positions. Little did any of them, even his closest friends, know that he really enjoyed the company of boys and all those years as a teacher, coach, and scout leader he had lusted for them in his mind but had never in fact done what he fantasized or read about on the Internet. Now, without the companionship and interaction with boys that had helped him curb his desires all these years, his sexual craving for boys had built up to a point of explosion, along with his new fixation, to humiliate and degrade the fathers, mothers and former friends who had opposed him.

Julius Gilles, unaware he had an audience, jogged into the opening and Lad, upon seeing his bitch, immediately ran toward him, tail wagging. As he leaped up and gave Julius a long, slobbery kiss, Julius returned the kiss on the dog's muzzle, feeling a true warmth and love for the animal, and not just the love of a master for his pet. Lad of course felt more than love, and began to hump the man's leg, to which the man joked with him about his impatience as he quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them helter skelter on the grass in his eagerness. Having seen Julius jogging and disappearing into the bushes on several occasions and at times remaining there for half an hour or more, Bob had finally followed him last Friday when he'd shown up in the park two hours early, and then on each subsequent day. He knew of course what was about to happen, and having Lane there to witness it seemed particularly fitting considering what Lane had told him.

Lane's jaw dropped and he stared bugeyed as the man who had replaced his brother as team captain stripped off his clothes and dropped to his hands and knees, and as the eighty-five-pound [38½kg] German Shepard mounted him and began to probe his ass with his red prick until he succeeded in inserting it. His eyes glued to the scene before him as the dog began fucking, he could not believe it. Gilles was very clearly enjoying it. Never had he ever seen anything so perverted and disgusting in his life.

Lane was not the only one to be surprised that afternoon. It was at that moment that Anton and François stepped into the clearing, having received a telephone message which they thought was from their dad to meet him at that particular location and time for their next lesson on sex. Of course it was a totally fictitious message using segments of tapes of their father's voice. They had been suspicious and reluctant when they'd gotten the call. It was most strange their father would phone them rather than tell them before he'd left on his regular run, and like all young boys, they didn't particularly look forward to a father-son talk about sex. In their case considering the previous lessons on strip dancing and on sucking, the call was consistent with their father's recent strange behaviour, and their apprehension was even more justified than for most boys. They were obedient sons however, and so they had shown up as requested. Seeing their father naked had been embarrassing enough, and seeing him naked and being screwed by a big, black and tan German Shepard, was something they could never have been prepared for. They at least had no reason to doubt the authenticity of the phone message.

Julius of course was just as surprised to see his two youngest sons as they were to see him. He immediately tried to struggle out from under the dog, but Lad was six years old and strong and horny besides. There was no way he was going to let Julius get out from under him. As the dog gripped him all the tighter with his front legs and continued to thrust his cock in and out of his rectum, his hot cock freely spurting cum up his ass and his knot rapidly swelling, Julius did not know what to say or do. How does a father explain that he had been slipping away from home each day to have sex with a dog? The shame and guilt that pleasure normally masked at this point flooded over him.

Bob had been surprised seeing Julius and the dog screwing on the first day, and then seeing Julius show up each day at the same time at the same spot and evidently look around with disappointment for the dog, so seeing now his two sons too wasn't as big a surprise. He of course knew Julius and his wife as parents who had boys attending Glencoe, and as parents of one of his soccer players. He also knew Julius as a fellow teacher. Even though he taught at the private school and Julius at the public, they ran into each other frequently enough at common teacher events, and Julius was always one to seek him out on such occasions and strike up a conversation, always about how Anton and Julian admired him and how François looked forward to being taught by him, and asking about job opportunities and jokingly commenting that he hoped Bob would put in a good word for him. Julius was also one of those with whom Bob bore a grudge, knowing that after all the sucking up to him and trying to get him to refer him to the Trustees each time a job came open at the Academy, he was among the first of the parents to demand the board fire him and the most vocal to denounce him before the trial, and among the first to raise suspicions after the verdict. Of course he knew that had nothing to do with him personally and was because Julius wanted desperately to be hired by the Academy and would do anything for the chance. The man wasn't a goose. He was a stinking weasel.

His disgust for the man had doubled when he'd seen him and the dog, not because of the perverted act he was engaging in, but because he always acted so pure and proper and especially so after the charges against him, decrying the morals of a man who lusted after young boys. What about a man who lusted after dogs and did it like a common cur in the park? Then there was the information just revealed that he'd sucked up and likely paid his way to take over his coaching job and in two and a half months had destroyed the teamwork and morale he'd built up, and in time would destroy the soccer team itself. That hatred extended to Anton, simply because he was Julius's son, and because he was just as much a snob and pompous ass as his father just as Lane had correctly said his older brother was. He had no doubt François was the same as his father and his brothers. As he knelt there in the bushes, that fermenting hatred suddenly flamed and the idea of humiliating his supposed friend in front of his two boys presented itself. Fucking the oldest boy in front of his dad would be just revenge.

Lane, bearing the man no love from the comments his older brother and his brother's teammates had made about him, and hating his sons for being the sons of the man who'd replaced his brother as team captain in favour of his son, felt the same desire to degrade and punish the man, to treat him with the same contempt as he treated others, and fucking the shit out of his youngest son came to his mind. He was not into fag sex and the thought was novel, but the idea was so strong and so attractive he could not deny it would give him great pleasure. Besides, watching the dog fucking the shit out of the hated coach had gotten him horny. He was, after all, only thirteen.

Anger and lust coursed through Lane's veins and with each thrust of the dog's hips it doubled. He had to act, and he had to act now. He'd felt anger toward the man before, whenever his brother had come home from practice or after watching him coaching a game, but never had it felt so strong. And of course he'd felt horny before, many times, but crouching there in the grass he'd never felt such lust and need in his loins. Nor had Bob, and as he glanced over at his former student, he saw the same anger and lust in the boy's dark eyes.

"What do you say we go join the fun?" Bob asked huskily.

"Kewel," Lane replied, a leer curling his lips.

"Well, well, well," said Bob as he strode across the small clearing, "if it isn't the Gilles boys out for some evening fun. At least father Gilles seems to be having fun, doesn't he Lane?"

"Oh yeah. A lot of fun," Lane replied, his eyes fixed on Lad's slimy red cock pistoning in and out of Julius's asshole and his swollen knot now fully expanded at the base. Julius looked up at the two helplessly, not knowing what to say.

"What's the matter, your shaggy boyfriend not have any puppies to fuck your boys?" Bob asked, pretending to look around for them. Hearing his former teacher use the F word surprised Lane, but also knowing how with it he was, it wasn't a shock.

Julius tried to get up, causing Lad to wrap his legs about his waist still tighter and to lunge forward, driving his knot into his rectum. The sudden lunge and entry of the swollen muscle caused Julius to wince with the pain despite the lube of Lad's copious emission. Lane's eyes widened with the disappearance of the dog's knot up Julius's ass and the boy could not help wincing himself with the thought of something that huge shoved up his asshole. "For God's sake, Bob, help me up," Julius managed to gasp between deep breaths, needless to say finding it difficult to talk, "can't you see I'm being attacked?"

"Attacked?" Bob asked with a smile. "And what did the dog do, strip you first?"

"I 3; well 3; I was exercising 3; and I 3; well 3; took 3;"

"Sure," Bob said condescendingly, cutting him off. "Is that how you and your boys like it, getting raped?"

"Bob, for Heaven's sake!"

"What about it? You boys like getting your asses fucked too?" Bob asked, turning his attention to Anton and François. To his surprise, the look in the eyes of the two boys said yes. Of course they didn't say that, but he'd been around students long enough to pick up on the nonverbal signs, and these signs said the boys wanted to be screwed. Well, considering that their father stripped naked in the park and had sex with dogs, why not? "Well, unfortunately I don't see any other dogs around, but I think Lane and I can fill the job, what do you say Lane?" Bob asked as he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down, quickly followed by his underwear.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Lane responded, surprised by his former teacher's actions and by the sight of the man's privates. The man struck an imposing figure, six-foot-two [1.88m] and two-hundred-and-fifty pounds [113kg] with a solid build despite his beer gut, his dirty brown hair with strands of grey done up in a pony tail, his deep blue eyes, and his well-trimmed goatee of mostly salt and paprika, and he was hung to match, with large low-hung balls and a long, thick cock. Lane pushed down his baggy cargo shorts and his boxers. The boy was of course fully aroused from what had been happening, and his balls and stiff, young cock was of a nice size for a thirteen-year-old.

"Have you boys ever had a man's cock up your ass before?" Bob asked as he stepped up to Anton. Anton and François shook their heads but Bob could tell from the look in their eyes that there was something the boys were not telling him. Undoing Anton's belt and pulling down his fly, he yanked down the boy's jeans and underwear and spun him around. The sight of his smooth, white, compact ass completed Bob's transformation and his cock jutted up in the air proud and eager for action. If there had been any doubt in Bob's mind before, it was gone with the sight of the boy's compact ass and tender little pucker. Copying his idol and mentor, Lane did the same with François, his roughness with the wide-eyed, frightened nine-year-old redhead being more out of inexperience and excitement than intentional.

"Moser, you're going to pay for this," Julius said angrily, unable to do anything else than threaten. He had to do something. These were his sons!

"Pay? You mean to say you're pimping your boys' asses?" Bob taunted with a grin. He didn't expect an answer as he pulled apart Anton's cheeks and placed the tip of his aching cock against the boy's hole. He immediately felt the boy's sphincter open as the boy pushed out with his stomach. So, he'd been right. The boy did want it, and evidently had already had it. He was too frightened to have lied to him so evidently whoever had fucked him before had not been a man. He wondered who it had been, or if maybe he too had a doggie playmate. Either way, it was probably what he'd sensed the two boys were holding back. It didn't really matter. Gripping Anton's ass firmer, he slowly pressed forward, wedging his dickhead into the boy's hole. Anton inhaled sharply and tensed with the pain as he tried desperately to open his asshole wider. The man's cock was a lot larger than Cory Wilson's! Bob knew the boy was in pain, his dick being wider than most men's, but at that point he did not care. In fact he wanted the boy to feel pain because he was Goosey Gilles's son, and because he wanted Gilles to see his son's pain. He pushed on ruthlessly, grunting and gasping with the effort, and Anton grunted and gasped too as he tried to accommodate the man. His asshole felt like it was being split and he gritted his teeth to hold back his scream.

Lane had never considered fucking another guy's ass before and though aware of the world of porn out there as available as a click on his computer, he'd never been all that interested even for pictures or stories about straight sex. So, as he positioned the tip of his stiff cock in François' hole and grasped François' hips and pushed forward, it was only by copying Bob, whom he was watching out of the corner of his eye. And, as François pushed out with his stomach, having been fucked twice already by Anthony and once by his brother and knowing how to lessen the pain, Lane had no idea that the boy had previous experience. He too had a wide cock, but at the age of thirteen, it was still slender compared to that of a man's, and Anthony's cock had been just as wide, so he had less difficulty sinking his cock up François' rectum. He was surprised how hot and how moist the boy's rectum was, and that it felt like what he'd imagined a girl's cunt would feel like.

Bob had by then forced his knob inside Anton and was sinking his seven-inches [18cm] of stiff, aching meat up the twelve-year-old's rectum. It was delightful, even more delightful than the porn he'd read had described, even more delightful than he'd imagined it would be. Grasping Anton's hips tightly, he slowly eased his cock back up until his knob was stretching open the boy's sphincter, this time from the inside, and then he slowly sank his cock back in, delighting in the pleasure throbbing through his stiff cock. It seemed so much larger up the boy's asshole compared to being in his hand. He had imagined this for years, and now that it was finally a reality, he could not believe how marvellous it felt. As he worked his thick cock in and out of the boy, the boy opened and closed his sphincter in time with his movements, confirming that the boy had previous experience. That did not disappoint him, and in fact, it also confirmed his contention all along that boys were sexual beings with sexual needs just like men, a fact adults consistently ignored or outright denied. From the boy's deep breathing and trembling, it was evident also that he was enjoying getting his ass fucked, which made fucking him all the more pleasant.

Lane had no such previous fantasies and nothing to base his first experience on. All he knew was that it felt fucking damn good. His cock was surrounded by hot, moist flesh, just as it would if he were fucking a girl, and it felt good having it totally surrounded by pulsating flesh. His knob tingled and burned with that still new and awesome pleasure just like it did when he jerked off. François was gasping and trembling just as he'd imagined a girl would when he fucked her. Actually, he had to admit that having sex with another guy was not all that bad, and that it was better than getting off by yourself. Of course he was the one doing the fucking, and François was the one being fucked. That made a big difference. And he was fucking the son of the coach who had replaced his brother as team captain. That made a big difference too, a very big difference. He thrust his cock in and out of François not just with the urgency of a thirteen-year-old experiencing his first fuck and eager to get his nuts off, but also with the anger of a young teen. With each thrust of his throbbing cock deep up the nine-year-old's rectum he was getting his brother's revenge against Julius Gilles.

Bob had exactly the same thoughts. After five months, he was getting his revenge against the first of the many who had wronged him. He was fucking the son of the man who had promoted hatred against him. Well, he hated Julius Gilles as much as the man hated him, maybe even more. So the former teacher, coach and cub leader thrust his hips forward angrily, impaling the squirming twelve-year-old boy with his seven-inch [18cm] spike of flesh. His deep blue eyes blazed with lust and with revenge as he took out his anger on the boy, fucking him furiously before his father, having purposefully positioned himself so Julius Gilles could see both of his sons being raped, and so that he could watch the molestation of young François.

Julius knelt there pinned under Lad and locked with him as the dog spurted out his seed as he watched his two boys being abused. He had envied Bob Moser for years, and now he hated him. Bob had the respect and admiration of his students, something Julius wished he had but could not. Even his own son spoke admiringly of him. Bob was teaching at the prestigious Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys despite his obvious hippy appearance, though he did wear the school uniform as required, a position and a privilege that had been repeatedly denied Julius. And the man had done nothing to help him get a job at the Academy. He had hated him for that, and now he hated him for what he was doing to his son. At least he had the vindication that he'd been right. Bob Moser was an abuser of young boys as he'd claimed all along. Bob Moser was a pervert paedophile who delighted in having sex with boys, something else that deep down inside he 3; Julius shook the thought from his head. No. He concentrated on his hatred to prevent its return. It was better to hate Bob Moser for what he was doing than to envy him. Better to hate the man than feel the shame and frustration of kneeling there in the clearing unable to help either of his boys. Better to hate the man than feel the embarrassment and humiliation of having been found in the park stark naked and having sex with a dog.

Bob Moser saw the look of anger, embarrassment, and shame on Julius's face, which heightened his delight in ravishing his twelve-year-old son. He fucked the boy rapidly and roughly, each trust of his stiff cock up the boy's ass being like a dagger's thrust in Julius Gilles's heart. He concentrated on the pleasure of the young boy's hot, pulsating ass and on the perversity of fucking the boy before his father and before his brother, who was being ravished just as eagerly. Lane, his dark eyes almost closed in ecstasy behind those deliciously long and fluttering eyelashes, his soft, beardless cheeks flushed with pleasure and his smooth, ruby lips parted as he inhaled and exhaled deeply with his pleasure and as his lean, muscular body perspired in the late afternoon sun, soaking his black nylon net T-shirt, was lost in his own world of sexual delight as he felt the pressure developing in his loins. The sight of the black-haired, dark-eyed youth in the throes of sexual ecstasy as he furiously fucked the shit out of Julius Gilles's nine-year-old son brought Bob to the brink.

As Lad's continuously spurting cock finally subsided and he pulled his knot out of Julius's asshole, Bob grunted and lunged forward, sinking his seven-inch [18cm] cock up Anton's rectum and filling it with his hot, thick cum. Spurt after spurt of his hot seed shot up the boy's ass with more force than he'd ever shot before. To his delight it seemed as if there was going to be no end. At the same time Lane grasped François's hips as he too lunged forward and pumped his thick, teenage cum up the boy's asshole. Young and perpetually horny, he too shot repeatedly and copiously and he groaned with the immense pleasure of each shot. He and Bob threw back their heads and trembled and gasped with the delight of their ejaculations, and Julius Gilles knelt there naked and helpless as he watched, his cock sticking up between his legs, the result of the lengthy fuck he'd received.

It was several minutes before Bob finally pulled his still stiff cock out of Anton's asshole, and as he did so, so did Lane. Like himself, the boy was still stiff, and the sight of the thirteen-year-old's stiff cock jutting up in the air and anointed with his fresh cum and François' ass juices made Bob ache with delight at the boy's pleasure and with joy in being in part responsible for it. How could any sensible man deny a boy such a pleasure? How could any man condemn another for wishing it? He glanced over at Julius and smirked at the look of shame and humiliation on the man's face. He could only imagine how the man must be feeling having just watched his two young sons get the shit fucked out of them. Well, he deserved it. He deserved it and more, much more for what he'd done.

"Felch your boys." Julius looked up at the man, not comprehending what the man wanted him to do. "Felch. You know, suck the cum back out of their assholes."

Julius's look of lack of comprehension turned to a look of disbelief. How could he ask him to do such a thing? How could a man with such a filthy mind have been hired to teach at the Royal Glencoe? He looked up into those crazed, blazing eyes filled with disgust and with hatred. The man was evidently not just a pervert, but he was crazy besides. The memory of having forced the blond seven-year-old son of Reverend Winthrop to do the same thing to him flashed through his mind, except it had been dog cum that he'd forced the boy to suck up. That seemed so long ago. What sort of sicko pervert was he himself? He looked up into Bob Moser's eyes again. He knew he'd better respond or who knows what would come to the man's mind next. Shuffling over to Anton on his knees, he pulled apart his son's ass cheeks and ran his tongue up along his crack, tasting the salty sweat of his ass crack and the bitter cum that had oozed out of his hole and down the cord toward his balls. He wormed his tongue in his son's hole as Bob instructed, too demoralized to fight, and he fastened his lips to his young son's asshole and sucked out the man's cum, flavoured with his son's shit and ass juice. He opened his mouth, full of the foul brown-streaked white slime to prove he'd done as he'd been told before swallowing it. He gagged and brought it back up, but forced it back down before it spewed out, knowing he'd only be forced to eat it anyway. Bob laughed and commented that he didn't have to bring it back up to taste it a second time. His other son had a load waiting to be felched also. His cheeks burning with shame and his eyes glaring with hatred, he fastened his lips to Anton's hole once again and continued sucking Bob Moser's seed from his son's ass.

Lane stood there in surprise and in delight as he watched Julius Gilles sucking his older son's asshole and then shuffling over and placing his lips against the butthole of his youngest. This was the icing on the cake, watching the hated coach sucking his cum out of his son's hole. He, like most of his classmates, had used the derogatory term 'suckhole' many times in the past. The next time he used it, it would have a whole new meaning. Who would ever imagine a guy would actually do something so perverted? Who would ever imagine Goosey Gilles would do such a thing, to his own sons! Wait until he told Spence about this! It served the son of a bitch right for what he'd done, for what he'd done to his brother and for what he'd done to Mister Moser. And so he stood there and stared in fascination and in delight as Julius Gilles sucked his cum out of his youngest son's ass, and as he opened his mouth to show him the mouthful of slime, looking like congealed eggwhite streaked with brown molasses, to prove he'd done as he'd been told before he swallowed the teenage boy's thick, tart load. He wished Spence could see the look of disgust on the man's face.

"Now you two boys can thank your pervert dad by doing the same for him," Bob said, the idea just popping into his head and him voicing it without a second thought. Served the bastard right for doing what he'd done to him. Served his two snobbish, arrogant sons right also for being snobbish and arrogant. "Do it," he said with an edge to his voice, an uncharacteristic edge that Lane Spudder had never heard his former teacher and Royal Glencoe Academy coach use before.

Anton and François nervously and fearfully knelt behind their dad and looked apprehensively at his asshole. It was raw and red from Lad's furious fucking and from having been plugged by Lad's knot, and it was leaking the copious, watery cum the dog had shot up it. Anton swallowed hard as he slowly leaned forward and placed his lips against his father's asshole. He gagged with just the thought and drew back. Inhaling deeply and bracing himself, he leaned forward again. He had heard Justin speak of the former coach with praise and admiration, but he'd also heard his father and others speak of the man's evil and their disgust for him. How there could be two such opposing views the twelve-year-old did not understand. What he did understand was that he had better obey the man, and that the sooner he and his brother did as they'd been told the sooner it would be over.

And so the two sons took turns sucking on their father's asshole, sucking the salty, bitter doggy slime from his ass along with his ass slime and bits of shit. François pressed his young, smooth lips against his father's filthy asshole and sucked, and licked the slime from his lips as he swallowed the foul concoction and watched his brother do the same. The two boys felt filthy and ashamed, and yet there was a sense of eroticism and arousal in what they were doing which made them wonder if they were suffering from the same mental illness their father was. Julius stood there, flushed a bright red with embarrassment and humiliation, his lips and cheeks glistening with the ass slime of his two sons and the cum from Bob Moser and Lane Spudder and with a foul taste in his mouth. Despite the filth and perversion, despite his shame and embarrassment, he too felt a sense of eroticism and his swollen cock ached with arousal. He had the biggest, stiffest hardon he'd ever had in his life, and the fact it was the result of having his two sons felch the dog slime from his asshole was sick. Lad of course had filled his ass well, and it took his sons a long time to clean him. By the time they were done his cock felt like it would burst if it was touched.

Bob had seen the man's perverted reaction and had considered having his two boys apply their sucking skills and talented tongues to their father's aching cock, but at the last moment he decided against it. He smiled wickedly as he looked down at the two kneeling boys and then up at their father. The boys themselves still had raging boners, from being fucked and from the mutual felching between themselves and their father. Well, let the three of them go home horny and unfulfilled. That was fitting. This time.

NEXT PART