J.O. Dickingson

At Their Mercy

Chapter 1

"Like what's the big deal. You got hundreds of apples."

"That is the deal. They're my apples."

"So the deal is you're a stingy shithead."

He could not be more than eleven. I don't particularly like kids, and insolence really gets my hackles up. Besides, the use of vulgar language by children certainly gets my blood boiling. "If you were my son, I'd wash your filthy mouth out with soap."

"Oh yeah? Well, if I was your son, I'd tell you to stick the soap up your ass," he retorted as he tossed the half-eaten apple into the street.

That was the limit of my patience. Needless waste I have no tolerance for, and especially when it is wasting something that belongs to me. I reached out to grab the arrogant little brat. He stepped back just out of my reach. I took several quick steps and he turned and began to run. Since he was just over an arm's length away, I began to chase him. He ran down the street and ducked into the alley with me right behind him. Running down the alley, he cut across the corner park and headed for the ravine at the other end. Although four times his age, I keep myself in good shape and I managed to keep right behind him. Actually as he charged down the steep path with me at his heels, I was quite proud of myself.

Coming to a fork, he took the less used path and then cut through the brush in what I thought was an effort to loose me. I charged through the bushes after him and almost ran over him when I emerged into a small clearing on the other side and found him waiting.

Before I could react, he gave me a swift punch in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. At the same time four boys leaped up from where they had been hiding. They immediately tackled me and pulled me to the ground. Managing to throw them off, I began to get to my feet. Jay got to his feet faster, and approaching me, he kicked me between the legs. As I clutched myself and sank to the ground in pain, the others pinned me down on my back, one boy holding down each arm, and one boy sitting on each leg. Jay flopped down on my chest with all his weight, which at seventy-five pounds [34 kg], was enough to have broken a rib.

Twisting off the top of a soda bottle, he pulled open my jaw and poured some of the contents in my mouth. It tasted like Coke but I knew it had to be something else.

"Wha awre you doin'?" I managed to ask.

The boy responded by pinching my nose shut and ramming the neck of the bottle down my throat. I had no choice but to swallow the fluid. He emptied the entire bottle.

"What was that?"

"Just a little something to make you cooperative," Jay said with a leer, and the other boys laughed.

"A drug of some sort?"

"Oh, smart. You shoulda been a brain surgeon," he said and the others giggled.

"What sort of drug?"

"Rohypnol. Not that it matters to you."

"I've never heard of it."

"Roofies, R-2, it got lots of names."

"What does it do?"

"You'll see," he replied with a grin, "or maybe you won't." The others laughed again.

He got off me and I tried to shake the other boys loose. Jay kicked me in the ribs with all of his eleven-year-old force. I decided it best to just lay there and wait for my chance. At least half an hour went by. I began to feel dizzy and very drowsy.

"So how ya feelin'?" Jay finally asked.

"Dithy," I replied, my tongue feeling thick and everything beginning to spin.

"Hey, guys, I think it's started working already."

"Probably because the old man's heart is still pumping from the race you put him through."

Old man, at forty-four!

"Now, listen to me," Jay said. "Just lay there and relax and breathe nice and slow. We aren't going to hurt you. Just lay there and listen to my voice and relax. You're getting very sleepy. Your head is spinning and you just want to lie back and sleep and listen to my voice."

I knew what he was trying to do. Well, my mind is a lot stronger than any eleven-year-old's, and everyone knows you cannot be hypnotized against your will. I lay there and fought his voice despite the drug. I was sleepy and very relaxed, but I had a strong will. As I lay there, I decided to pretend to be falling under his spell. All I had to do was wait until their guard was down and then get free. Through the fog my mind was in, I heard him asking the others if they had thought up what they were going to tell me to do.

Finally they let go of my limbs and I slowly sat up. I knew all I had to do was wait. Feeling too weak to make my escape, I decided to just sit and rest for the moment.

"Okay, who's going first?" I heard Jay ask.

"I will," announced a blond-headed boy I figured to be the same age as Jay. "Tomorrow when we come past your place from school, you'll have picked the biggest and best apples from your tree and you'll give us each one, understand?"

"Yeth," I replied automatically, my tongue feeling like it had swollen to twice its size.

"And you'll give each of us a smoke, understand?" said the next boy, who looked a year younger.

"Yeth," I replied again. I could not understand why I was agreeing so readily, but in the back of my mind, I told myself if I just did what they said I'd get out of there. Besides, what I was agreeing to was not that bad.

They looked at the next boy. He had to be about nine.

"Well, Billie?"

"Well, mine's sortta goofy."

"Go ahead anyway."

"I want you to get on your hands and knees and bark like a dog."

I slowly got on my hands and knees and barked. I was not humouring them, and I was not thinking what I was doing. To my consternation I could not stop barking either, and the boys were hooting with glee. Why I could not stop I could not understand. The boy told me to beg and I did. He threw a stick and I staggered after it and brought it back in my mouth. He told me to chase my tail and I ran in circles until I was exhausted. By this time the boys were doubled over with laughter.

"That's it," he finally said.

"I'm gonna change my idea," said the next boy, whose size would place him between Billie and Jay. "Pull down your fly and take out your dick."

His friends giggled and glanced at each other uncertainly and with a bit of embarrassment and then back at me. I fought back, but my hand slowly went to my zipper and pulled it down. What was going on? I concentrated with all my effort, but I could not stop my fingers from slipping into my open fly. This was impossible. The eleven-year-old could not have hypnotized me that easily. Besides, you can not hypnotize someone to do what he does not want to do, and this certainly was not something I wanted to do! However, there I was, pulling out my penis in front of the five preteens as they hooted and slapped each other on the back. I wondered just what sort of drug this Rohypnol was. If the boys were slightly embarrassed, I was totally ashamed.

"Now, puppy, go over to that tree, raise your leg, and pee like a good little dog."

I staggered over on hands and knees almost as if I was drunk, raised my leg, and emptied my bladder of what little was in it, again to my amazement and shame and to the boys' amusement.

"I'm changing my idea too," said Jay. "Come over here puppy." I waddled over to him. Dropping his jeans and underwear, he got to his hands and knees in front of me. "Come check me out boy. Come sniff my ass like a good puppy dog."

I could not believe it as I went over to him on hands and knees and sniffed his bumhole and his little dick and balls. The boys all howled. I was embarrassed and frustrated as hell. How could I possibly be doing these things?

"Now," Jay finally said, taking my head and holding it up so we were looking into each other's eyes, "I want you to listen real close 3;"

When I woke up the next morning, I had a throbbing headache like the worst hangover I ever had. Thinking back to the previous day, all I could recall was chasing Jay into the ravine, and what the boys had done to me up to the point Jay had looked me in the eye. The rest of the day was a blank. I perked a pot of coffee and opened a can of beans for breakfast. I had no idea why, but I had a craving for both. I even had beans for lunch, and I must have drunk two pots of coffee myself by five.

Arriving home, I immediately went to the apple tree and picked the five largest, ripest apples and then sat on the front step. I knew I was doing it because that was what I had been told to do, but I had no idea why I felt compelled to follow the child's orders. Five-thirty, the five boys passed by on their way home. Upon seeing them, I walked out onto the sidewalk to meet them. I handed one of the apples to Jay.

"Well thank you," he said, and I responded with a resounding fart to the joy of the others.

I handed the next boy an apple and he smiled knowingly as he said, "Well, thanks." Again I farted and the boys laughed louder. The same happened with the remainder of the boys as I tried desperately to figure out what was going on.

I then reached into my pocket, and taking out my package of Exports, gave the nine-year-old boy a cigarette. "That's real nice of you," he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I immediately felt the need to piss, the first time for the day I suddenly realized, and try as I could, I could not hold it back. I stood there helplessly in front of the boys as I began to empty my bladder.

"Hey, how about a cigarette for me, asshole?" Jay asked as the nine-year-old lighted his up. Managing to stop my bladder, I handed him a cigarette.

"Well," he said and I farted. "That's nice." He grinned at the others and I began to feel the piss rising up my dick again. I stood there as it soaked into my underwear and a dark patch began to appear just above my right leg.

"Well," said one of the other boys and I farted again. "Lookit the asshole pissing his pants!"

I managed to regain control of my bladder.

"That's not nice," one of the boys said, and to my dismay I once more felt the urine begin to flow. I could not stop it this time and it ran down my leg and formed a yellow puddle on the sidewalk. As I stood there with the inside of my right pant leg soaked in piss, I knew that somehow the boys had control over my bladder instead of me. I could not see how that was possible.

"Hey, Mr. Wallace, by the way, thanks for the apple. I was hungry."

Inexplicably, I reached up, and sticking my finger in my nose, pulled out a booger and popped it in my mouth. The boys roared as I stood there helplessly and chewed on the salty snot.

"Yeah, but you shouldn't have done it," laughed Jay.

Suddenly I felt the need to take a crap, and once I felt it, I could not hold it back. I could do nothing as I felt the first turd begin to leave my anus.

"The asshole's really shittin' his pants!" the blond boy said in amazement as the second turd pushed out into my underwear.

The need suddenly ended and I stopped evacuating my bowels.

"Ah, you boys will have to excuse me," I said awkwardly as I began to back away.

"Sure, but before you go," Jay said and I stopped immediately as I began to fill my underwear again. "I want you to listen to this, shithead 3;"

The next thing I remember was going into the bathroom and removing my soiled pants, underwear and socks. It was a stinking mess but I was not about to throw away good clothes. As I washed them out in the bathtub, I could not understand what had come over me. It had to be all the coffee and the heat of the sun, maybe the stress at work or something. Never had anything like this ever happened to me before.

When I opened a can of beans for breakfast the next morning and drank a pot of coffee before going to work, I knew something very unnatural was going on. I knew I was acting totally on impulse, but I could not understand why, and I could do nothing to stop it. After work I hurried home and sat on the front steps. I had no idea why, but I knew I had to do it. The boys arrived at their usual time and as they came up to me I stood to greet them.

"Well," said Jay as a greeting and I farted. I stood there in trepidation.

"Nice fart," his friend said and I could not hold back my bladder. The hot piss formed a dark patch about my groin and began to spread down my pant leg.

"How about letting us have an apple, we're awful hungry," said the third boy. I reached into my nostril. Slipping the booger in my mouth, I chewed and swallowed it as my hot piss continued to spread across my pant leg.

"Well," said the fourth boy, "not that hungry." I farted as I pulled out another booger.

"But don't let us stop you," said the youngest with a giggle and I began to evacuate my bowels.

I stood there, my piss pouring down my leg and my underwear filling with hot shit. I stared at the boys helplessly and they smirked at each other. I tried to leave, but my feet were rivetted to the sidewalk.

"Thanks for the entertainment, asshole," Jay finally said. "Now shithead, for tomorrow listen to this 3;"

As I went in the house, I knew I should do something about this, but I didn't know what. How can you stop something you have no control over? How do you explain to someone that a gang of preteens has given you the bathroom habits of a two-year-old?

The next morning began like the previous two, a pot of coffee and beans for breakfast and a pot of coffee and beans for lunch. The only difference from the previous two days was that it was Saturday. That afternoon I stopped at the bank and took out two hundred dollars, and then I caught the bus to Toys R Us at the mall. I had no idea why I was doing that, but when I arrived, I was not surprised to see the five boys. In a matter of minutes I had spent the two hundred dollars on games and toys. We then went to the bus stop.

"Well, thanks for the toys, Mr Wallace," said one of the boys and I farted.

"Well, what shall we do next?" asked another and I farted again. Several adults waiting near me moved away.

"Well, we could get something to eat, I'm hungry," suggested another and of course I farted and dug out a booger. I looked straight ahead in mortification as everyone waiting for the bus stared at me. By this time I had figured out the key words that were triggering my reactions, and I prepared myself for what the boys would inevitably say next.

"Well," said the lady beside me, and I farted loudly. The boys doubled over in laughter.

"That was done well," laughed Jay and I farted again.

"Well, I never," the lady snorted and I farted as she left and the boys rolled on the sidewalk in hysterics.

Jay and his buddy returned with me to my house. "Okay shithead, lets go inside."

I felt myself falling into a stupor as we entered my house. Once we were inside, Jay told me to strip to my underwear. I did so without hesitation and stood there in my jockey briefs. You are not supposed to be able to tell people to do things that is against their beliefs or morals, but there I was standing in just my underwear and feeling as embarrassed as hell but compelled to do it anyway.

"Nice underwear."

I was unable to move as I began to piss. The hot fluid soaked into my underwear, and ran down my leg to soak into the carpet.

"But now you've ruined them pissing in them."

I opened up my anus and began to evacuate my bowels. Thick, warm shit oozed out of my rectum and began to fill my underwear. Constrained by my jockey briefs, the soft shit spread down my crack and across my butt. My briefs began to sag and droop with the fresh, moist mush. Some of it oozed out of my leg holes and down my legs.

"Ah, look, little baby go poop," said Jay and he and his buddy roared. "Later, asshole," he said as they headed for the door. I felt helpless and used as I stared after them.

Sunday afternoon I was working in the yard when Jay, his buddy and the nine-year-old showed up. My heart sank. Not more of their juvenile bathroom humour!

"Hi, shithead," Jay greeted me. "Showtime!"

I stood there staring at him, unable to move, unable to say anything. By then I knew that 'shithead' was the subconscious cue for me to fall under his spell.

"Whenever we tell you to do something, you'll say, yes master, understand?"

"Yes master," I found myself saying.

"Go in the house, get us each a soda, and a plate of cookies, and be quick about it."

"Yes master." I hurried into the house to do as I had been told.

"That wasn't very fast, was it guys?" Jay asked as I returned with the pop and cookies.

"No, it wasn't."

"I think ol'man Wallace needs to be punished."

"Right," they agreed with a grin.

"So, what do you think we should do?"

"Make him serve us in just his underwear," suggested his friend. The younger boy giggled.

"You heard Tyler," Jay said to me.

"Yes master."

I stripped down to my underwear. I don't know what I was feeling most, anger with the boys, embarrassment over the children seeing me in my underwear, or fear the neighbours might see us. Regardless of my feelings, I obediently did as I had been ordered.

"We need more cookies. And you had better be faster this time."

"Yes master."

I practically ran into the house and back out.

"What do you think guys?"

"Naw, he could have been faster," said the youngest with an impish grin.

"So what punishment should we give him this time?"

"I think he needs to be spanked," Billie suggested with a grin.

"Bare butt," Tyler added.

"Drop your underwear and bend over."

My heart racing with anger and every muscle in my body fighting the order, I slowly turned around, pushed down my underwear, and bent over.

"It was your idea, Billie. Go first."

The nine-year-old boy stepped up behind me and gave my butt a slap.

"Com'on, you can wallop him harder than that. Hit him like your dad hits you."

The next slap resounded loudly and stung. He repeated it at least a dozen times. Then Tyler took over and delivered my stinging rump a dozen sharp slaps. My butt felt like it was burning.

"Hey, Tyler," Billie giggled, "Every time you slap his butt it makes his thing bob."

"Oh yeah?" said the blond-haired boy as he gave me a particularly hard slap.

"I think there's something else ol'man Wallace can do for us," observed Jay

"What's that?"

"Wank your dick for us," Jay ordered.

I fought the temptation as my hand slowly began to reach for my cock. This was unreal, like a grade B movie. My hand slowly inched for my prick like it had a mind of its own.

"You heard me."

"Yes master," I replied, unable to fight the impulse any longer.

Taking my limp cock in my hand, I slowly began to fondle it. I had done that hundreds of times as a teenager and young man, but as I had grown older and realized I was destined for a life of bachelorhood, I had gradually replaced my sexual interests with my job and physical exercise. I had not done this for years. It was not long before I was erect.

"Oh, wow, lookit the size of it!" Tyler commented in awe.

I was average in the size department, but to the boys my six-inch [15 cm] erection must have looked gigantic. The boys gathered in front of me and stared at my organ as my fist slowly began pumping. I was embarrassed as hell, but could do nothing to stop this. It was sick, a forty-four-year-old man masturbating in front of three young boys not even in their teens. My breathing started to get heavier as I felt my arousal reaching its peak. I wanted to stop but I could not do it on my own, and I could not tell them why. I knew if I did, it would only encourage them to make me continue. It was better not to go through the embarrassment of telling them what was about to happen and having them ignore my plea anyway. Finally I felt my balls twitch and my semen rose up my cock and spurted out onto the lawn.

"Oh shit, lookit it!" Tyler exclaimed.

Jay snickered. The other two stared at me in awe and then at Jay.

"What is that?" asked Billie.

"His stuff."

"Huh?"

"You know, the stuff that a guy squirts in a woman to make a baby."

"Jeez!" exclaimed Tyler, evidently as unknowing as Billie.

"That makes a baby?" Billie asked.

"Yeah."

"I didn't know a guy could do that," Tyler confessed.

The boys stared at my softening cock, the last drop of semen clinging to the tip, and then down at the gobs on the grass. I stared straight ahead, confused and ashamed. Jay smirked at me with an evil look in his eyes.

"Well, I'm getting bored with this shit," Jay announced. "Wanna go to my house and play Space Invaders or something?"

"Sure," his two friends chimed.

"You guys go ahead, I wanna have a word with ol'man Wallace first." The two boys headed down the street. Jay was their leader and they obeyed him unquestioningly. He stepped up to me. "All right shithead, listen up 3;"

After the boys left, I put on my clothes and went inside. I began to write up what has been happening to me as Jay had told me to. Jay said that he knows a guy who can put what I write on the Internet, and that there are lots of guys who'd like to read about it. He said even some kids would probably read it and get a kick out of it all. He said maybe some guys will even write back and give him and the others some other ideas of stuff they can do to me, and then I can write about that too.

I don't want to be writing all this, but Jay said I had to, and I have to do what my master says. I think maybe he's just joking about knowing someone who can put this on the Internet. Even if he does, I don't see why anyone would want to read it, and even if anyone did, I don't believe anyone would really write back, men or boys. Besides, I don't see what else anyone can suggest Jay and his friends can do anyway, so I guess the joke is going to be on them. I will find out, and when I do, I will tell you. My master Jay said I had to.

Chapter 2

"Hey Mr. Wallace, guess what?"

"Ah, who's calling?"

"Me, Jay, your master."

I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Jay had phoned me the day before to say his friend had posted the story he had made me write a week earlier. I figured he was lying and just playing mind games with me the day before, and I figured this call was more of the same.

"So guess what?" he repeated excitedly.

"What?" I hated to ask.

"Someone wrote! Three guys actually!"

I didn't believe it. It had only been twenty-four hours since he'd told me the story had supposedly been posted. It had to be a lie.

"Isn't that great!"

"Jay, we have to talk about this."

"Not right now, I got a buncha phone calls to make. I just wanted to let you know that someone sent in this real cool idea. Don't worry, we'll talk real soon, shithead."

I sat down at the kitchen table. Did he really know someone who would post the story? Did someone actually read it and write back a suggestion what else he and the boys could do? I found it hard to believe anyone would. For one thing, the things they had made me do were sick, and definitely unbelievable. Besides, if anyone had written, Jay would have been over to my place immediately. Not only that, three people in one day, that had to be a lie.

There are some very weird news groups on the net, I know that, and there are some very weird people in this world, I know that too. As I sat there, I wondered just what someone would suggest a gang of preteen boys do to an adult man. Once started, my imagination began to run wild, especially with some of the stuff in the news lately. I did not sleep well last night.

This afternoon I left work early and drove to Crestview Middle School in the northeast part of the city where I live. I have never been to the school before, and I've never had reason to drive to it, but I drove straight to the address and parked in the visitor's parking lot. The busses were all lined up and school had just let out. It was a fairly large school from the looks of it, probably around six hundred kids. The sign at the entrance said it was grades four to eight. They were swarming all over the place. Getting out and walking across the parking lot, I knew that I was not doing so by my own will.

"See, I told ya he would be here."

The sound of that voice confirmed what I had suspected. Jay was walking across the parking lot, followed by a gang of boys. There had to be over a dozen.

"Told ya Jay would make him come," said a smug voice that I recognized immediately as that of nine-year-old Billy.

Walking along beside him was the only other boy I knew by name, a blond-haired youth the same age as Jay by the name of Tyler.

"Hi, Mr. Wallace," Jay greeted as if it was perfectly natural for me to be there. "Glad you could get away from work."

I wanted to turn and leave but my legs would not listen to my mind. I wanted to call out for help or to at least protest what was happening to me, but my voice box would not listen either.

"Come with us."

As I followed Jay and the boys, I noticed more joining us. We walked out of the parking lot and turned into an alley beside it. A row of lilac bushes had been planted along the school fence, blocking the view of the alley from the parking lot and school building. The other side of the alley was lined with garages, storage sheds, and tall fences, blocking out the view of the alley from the residences adjacent to the school. It was littered with the usual garbage from a school yard, milk cartons, juice boxes, fast-food containers, discarded tests and assignments, and cigarette butts. I noticed a number of the boys had lit up the moment we had entered the alley. It was evidently a common place for the kids to grab a smoke.

We stopped about half way down the alley and the boys formed a circle about Jay and me. By this time I figured there had to be at least two dozen, ranging in age from nine to fourteen. They were an assortment of heights and weights and an assortment of hair styles from almost shaved bald to curls past their shoulders. Some were carrying books under their arm, some had large backpacks slung over their shoulders, and most weren't carrying anything. Many were chewing gum, and a number were smoking. One thing they all had in common was their clothing, loose baggy pants or blue jeans with large oversize shirts hanging loose over their hips and sneakers. Another thing they all had in common was the look of expectation and the exchanged glances that hinted something forbidden was about to happen.

I tried desperately to think of the call yesterday and what I'd done today that was unusual. I hadn't consumed an inordinate amount of coffee or eaten anything that would activate my digestive system like the previous week where the boys had made me the object of their bathroom humour. The only unusual thing I'd done all day was leave work early and drive directly to the school.

"You remember my phone call yesterday, shithead?"

"Yes," I replied, knowing that derogatory name was the cue that put me under his control.

"You remember what I said?"

"That someone wrote about the story I wrote. Three people."

"You remember anything else I said?"

"No."

"That's cuz I told you to do what I said, but not to remember that I told you," he said with a smirk, showing off for the crowd. "That's why you took off from work early and drove here. That's why you came with us now, and why you're gonna do what I say, cuz I told ya that ya hadda." He looked around at the crowd he was playing to. "Me and Tyler and Billie was telling some of the guys about the show you put on for us at your house a week ago last Sunday." He grinned at me like the Cheshire cat. He was referring to making me serve them in my underwear, and then . "You remember that?"

"Yes."

"Well, they didn't believe us, did youse?"

The crowd generally murmured their agreement.

"They still don't, but this guy Jerry wrote after reading your story and he got a real neat idea," he said, taking out a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolding it. "Wanna hear what he said?" I didn't answer. I knew I was going to hear anyway.

Jay looked about, and clearing his throat, he read from the paper with great dramatic flourish, "Great story. You could have the boys make him go to their school or a park and get naked 3;" He paused there and looked at everyone, and then at me with devilry in his eyes. I cringed as he opened his mouth and I used every ounce of my strength to turn and walk away from there, or to call for help, or to at least object. I could do nothing but stand there and hear the command from my master. "So, go ahead, get naked."

I strained and fought, but my body was not my own. I slipped off my suit jacket and dropped it on the filthy ground without the slightest care. Me, George Wallace, perfectionist and immaculate adult, just dropping a four-hundred dollar jacket on the ground like it was worthless. I undid my tie and dropped it on the ground too, and then bent over and untied my shoes. My heart was beginning to race as I began to unbutton my shirt.

"Shit, he's really strippin'," someone said.

"I don't fuckin' believe this," someone else said.

"Hey, lookit all the hair on his chest."

"I wonder if he got any on his butt." Several laughed at that comment.

"He's got pretty good pecs for an old guy."

It was a complement in a way, and I did keep myself in shape exercising once a week in the gym, but I took offense to being called an old guy at forty-four. I dropped my shirt at my feet and unbuckled my belt. As I pulled down my zipper, the buzz of excitement increased. I lowered my pants and stepped out of them. As I raised one foot and removed my sock and then the other, I was beginning to turn red with shame. By this time my heart was beating so fast I was sure the boys could hear it, and I was so tense fighting what was happening that I felt like I was about to snap. I slipped my hands under the elastic band of my white jockey briefs, and slid them down.

"Fucking shit I don't believe this!"

"The ol'bastard's really doin' it."

"Jay wasn't fuckin' lyin'!"

The murmur and comments were a buzzing in my head as I bent over and stepped out of my underwear. I immediately put my hands in front of me but of course Jay just as quickly told me to put my hands at my sides. I stood there stark naked in the filthy, garbage-strewn alley surrounded by two dozen teenage and preteen boys.

"Look up," Jay demanded.

I slowly looked up at him.

"Turn around real slow so everyone can have a good look at your naked body."

I turned slowly, staring straight into the faces of the crowd of boys. The older boys were all smirking and leering at me lewdly. The younger were staring at me in wide-eyed wonder. Boys of all ages were looking at me in disbelief, unable to believe what I had done and what they were seeing. A few glanced away with embarrassment, evidently having never believed I would do it and evidently ashamed for me. Most, however, were staring at me with keen interest. For most I was probably the first adult they had ever seen naked. Unable to look down or to move my hands in front of myself to hide my shame, I tried to concentrate on the rocks and dirt under my feet. It did not work. I made two complete turns before Jay stopped me.

"That ain't all the guy wrote," he said with an evil grin, totally enjoying himself. He was in power, not just of me, but of the entire crowd of boys. He held up the paper and continued reading, "Great story," he repeated. "You could have the boys make him go to their school or a park and get naked and jerkoff in front of a whole bunch of boys invited to watch him do it."

Jay looked at me triumphantly. Good God no, I prayed. He wouldn't. He couldn't. "I'm not gonna make you do that," he said and I sighed with relief and began to thank my lucky stars. "Not right away," he said with an evil grin, and I knew I should not have been so foolish as to believe this little eleven-year-old brat had any sense of decency or mercy. "Some of us have been talking and stuff all afternoon about ya, and we got lots of questions and figured you'd be the best chance for us to get some answers, right guys?" A few nodded and mumbled agreement. "So, who's got the first question?" He glanced around at the crowd. The boys fidgeted and stared everywhere except at Jay. "You'll answer all questions, won't ya, Mr. Wallace?"

"Yes."

"Fuck, I'll start," said one of the older boys. "How old was ya when ya first jerked off?"

"Thirteen."

"Didja do it all the way?" the boy beside him asked.

"Yes," I replied, eliciting a murmur from the crowd.

"Howdja find out about it?"

"An older boy told us about it."

"Does doin' it hurt ya or anything?"

"No."

"Ya ever do it in front of another guy?"

"Yes."

"In front of who?"

"Jay, Tyler and Billie."

"Besides that."

"Nobody."

"No shit."

"Honest."

"So when was the last time ya done it?"

"A week Sunday."

"And before that?"

"I don't know. Years."

"Ya haven't done it for years?"

"No."

"Cuz ya been fucking."

"No, I haven't had any sex for years."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Just haven't known anyone."

"Shit, forty-four and ain't havin' sex, that's weird."

"Standin' naked in an alley in front of a buncha school kids is weird."

"Hey, Jay, enough talk. Ya gonna make him do it or what?" someone called and several cheered and encouraged him to get on with it.

"Yeah, I gotta be gettin' home or my mom'll be gettin' worried."

"We better do somethin' before someone comes along and catches us."

"You heard them," Jay said. "Jerk yourself off for us."

My mind screamed as I took my limp organ in my hand and began to fondle it. Despite my shame and total lack of any sexual arousal, my penis responded. Maybe it was because of the long periods of abstinence. Maybe it was because subconsciously this was arousing. Maybe it was another one of Jay's hypnotic suggestions I was unaware of. I do not know, but gradually my penis began to swell, and the more it grew the more the whispering and smirking and elbow digging increased around me. The boys pressed in closer.

Once I was erect, Jay had me stop and again turn in a slow circle so everyone could see my transformed organ. By this time my entire body had to be as red as my peckerhead from shame, and the comments of all the boys about my erection did not help. Jay then had me resume. I slowly worked my fist up and down my shaft, my face as hot as the organ in my hand. The boys continued to jeer and make lewd comments. It seemed like hours before I felt my stiff rod grow numb and signal the approaching climax, although I know it had to be only a matter of a couple minutes. I tried to control myself but I could not help breathing deeper and pumping faster as the need for relief took over and my body demanded satisfaction. I bit my lip as the first rope of semen spurted from my irritated shaft.

"He's fuckin' cumming!"

"Lookit it!"

"Shit!

"Lookit the ol'bugger spurt!"

"Way to go dude!

"Yeah, shoot that spunk out!"

"Fuckin' far out!"

"Hey, Jay, one cool show!"

I stood there holding my stiff, throbbing cock, the last of my semen hanging in a long pendant. Twenty-four boys surrounded me flushed with just as much excitement, all twenty-four pair of eyes staring at my dripping cock and tight balls. Some of the boys had tell-tale bulges in their jeans, not just the fourteen-year-old boys but even some of the nine-year-old boys. Most were leering and smirking at each other knowingly. Many were looking at Jay with open admiration for the show he had me put on for them. I knew for a number of them I had just introduced them to an act they had never heard of until now.

As I looked around at them I wondered what they were thinking. What would they be telling each other later this night? Who else would they tell about this? Would any of them tell their parents? They began to drift off, singly and in groups, until finally there was just me and Jay.

"After you get dressed, you head straight home and write what happened. And remember what I said, you can't tell anyone about this, or show anyone what you've written. I'll come by and pick it up tonight so my friend can post it."

"Very well."

"It'd be real cool if some more guys write and send us some more neat ideas wouldn't it?" he asked as I put on my underwear.

"I'd hardly think so," I replied honestly, still under his control.

"Say by the way, Mr. Wallace," Jay said as I continued dressing. "What does 'a straight guy' mean?"

"It means a man who likes women."

"Just likes them?"

"Well, no, likes them and has sex with them."

"So," he said as he thought, "it's like the opposite of a fag."

"That's right," I replied, and a wide grin passed over his face. "Why do you ask?"

"You'll see," he said with an impish sparkle in his eye. "You'll see."

Chapter 3

When the doorbell rang this afternoon, my heart leaped. Only three days ago, last Wednesday night, I had received a phone call from Jay to let me know that he had still another e-mail in response to the first story which told how the boys had gained control of my mind and made me the object of their bathroom humour, and that we'd have to get together again soon. He had me memorize what the guy had written and repeat it back to him: "Thanks for the hot story. I love those cool dudes who have taken over your life. They are so cool. I'm so happy that they have found a guy like you to provide them with some entertainment. I can't wait for the next installment."

Jay said before he could do the things this guy suggested, he had this other really neat idea from another reader called C*****. Then he laughed this evil laugh and told me to have a nice day. So, when I opened the door I fully expected to see Jay and one or more of his buddies, and I was not disappointed. Jay, Tyler, Billie and two of his friends I did not know stood there with these cat-that-ate-the-canary grins. One of the new boys looked to be about nine and I figured to be Billie's friend. The other boy was older, probably fourteen. I wondered if either of them was in the alley behind the school in my last encounter with my stalkers.

"What do you boys want?"

"Now, that is no way to greet us, shithead."

I stood there staring at them helplessly as I felt my willpower drain away.

"Now after this, whenever you see us, you'll address us as Master Jay, Master Tyler and Master Billie, got it shithead?"

"Yes, Master Jay."

"Say it like you mean it, like you are our obedient slave and you live only to serve us."

"Yes, Master Jay," I replied obsequioustly, and the boys glanced at each other and giggled.

"You want to please us, because that is your job as our slave. When we tell you to do something, you'll jump right to it as fast as you can and with a smile on your face, no matter what it is. Got it?"

"Yes, Master Jay," I replied, a wide grin passing over my face despite the anger and frustration I was feeling.

"We'll have to think of a proper name to call our slave," Jay said to Tyler and Billie.

Just then the doorbell rang and my heart leaped again. The first time the boys had put me under their control there had been five of them, and the next time they had me perform in front of two dozen of their classmates in an alley beside their school. I fully expected this to be more of their friends, and I dreaded how many. I opened the door, and to my surprise, there stood Bradley Straton, a young apprentice that had been working in our office this past year. He was a handsome, athletic, twenty-five-year-old stud, and a smooth talker and a smooth dresser besides. He was the type of man women swoon over, and Bradley knew it. Bradley was as arrogant and conceited as he was good looking. He felt he was God's gift to women, and he never passed up an opportunity to let us know. Besides that, every Monday morning he was more than willing to tell us male co-workers all about his sexual exploits over the weekend.

"Bradley, what brings you here?"

"I don't know," he replied. I immediately had a suspicion although I could not see how that could be. "I just had this overwhelming urge after lunch to come over here."

"Well, come in."

"Hey, boys," Bradley said with surprise, "What are you doing here, selling more of your lemonade?"

"No," said Jay, "we were feeling bored so came over here for some entertainment."

"You know each other?" I asked.

"I was out jogging after work the other day like I do every day, and it was especially hot, when these two boys show up and offer me a thermos of ice-cold lemonade," he said, indicating Jay and Tyler. It tasted fantastic."

"And with his blood racing with the heat and his jogging, it worked even faster than it did with you, Mr. Wallace."

"Worked?" Bradley asked with a puzzled look.

"Fuckin' right, shithead," Jay said.

The look of confusion and then vacancy in Bradley's eyes told me that he too had been drugged and had been made to fall under the boy's control with the same cue. I wondered just what the boys had made him do as I thought back to my first encounter with them.

"This is Straight Boy's first time under our command," Jay said as if he had just read my mind. "The only thing we did last Thursday was tell'm that he had to come here this afternoon. You don't mind us calling you Straight Boy, do ya?"

"I'm accustomed to children calling me Mr. Straton," he said, his irritation at Jay's insolence and familiarity evident in his tone.

"Well, you're gonna have t'get accustomed to being called Straight Boy, because from now on the three of us are gonna call ya that, and you're gonna like it, understand, shithead?"

"Yes," he said obediently if not sincerely.

"Should we start?" Jay asked the others.

"Sure," they all agreed readily

"Show us to your bedroom, Mr. Wallace."

"Yes, Master Jay,"I replied, smiling broadly as I wondered why that room. I did not like the possible answers.

Bradley looked at me with surprise but said nothing. Having been there twice myself besides today, I knew the confusion and internal turmoil he was going through. Upon entering the bedroom, the five boys immediately flopped down on the bed.

"Would you mind taking off your runners?"

"Yeah, we'd mind. You mind if we leave them on?" Tyler asked impertinently, purposefully scuffing his on the comforter.

"No, Master Tyler, whatever you wish."

The boys exchanged glances and satisfied smiles while Bradley continued looking on in surprise and confusion. The oldest boy laughed.

"What should we make these shitheads do first?" Jay asked.

"For starters, how about we make them kiss each other," the oldest boy suggested.

"You heard Jarred, do it."

I slowly turned to Bradley, and he slowly turned to me, like two robots in slow motion. As we approached each other and cocked our heads, I could see in his eyes how desperately he was fighting what his body was doing. I knew he had no choice, and that he might just as well accept what was happening. Our lips met for a quick peck.

"Fuck, that wasn't a kiss," complained Jay. "Now kiss each other like you mean it, like you see a guy and woman kissing in the movies, or we'll make you do stuff you'll really hate."

I had no idea what I could possibly be made to do that I hated more than kissing another man, but I knew the boys were only acting out ideas they had gotten from some fellow on the net, and who knows what sort of things they'd been told. I was still having difficulty believing that anyone would read the things I've written, and even more difficulty accepting that anyone would send preteen boys an e-mail telling them things to do to a grown man. As Bradley and I held each other and kissed passionately, I wondered what else the boys had in store for us.

"Now that was much better. What do you think Jarred?"

"Yeah, it was. Did you like that, Straight Boy?"

"No," he replied honestly.

"Don't you like kissing?"

"Women, yes."

"What do you think about kissing a man?"

"It's disgusting," he replied, making a face as if he had a foul taste in his mouth.

"Aw, that's really too bad. I guess you'll just to have to keep kissing each other until you do like it, starting right now."

We embraced and kissed again. Over and over our lips met in long, passionate kisses, just like in the movies as Master Jay had put it. The only difference was this was a forty-four-year-old man and a twenty-five-year-old coworker. Jay finally stopped us after about five minutes.

"Now, we've all seen you naked, Mr. Wallace," Jay said, confirming that the two new boys had been part of the gang in the alley earlier. "We'd like you to strip Straight Boy here for us."

"Now just a minute," Bradley said as I obediently turned to him.

"Shut your mouth and let him do it," Jay snapped. "You'll only speak when we say, and you'll let us do whatever we want, understand shithead?"

"Yes," he replied although his eyes said otherwise.

I unbuttoned and slid off his shirt. His pecs were solid and tanned, and his chest smooth and hairless. I dropped to my knees and untied and removed his shoes, and then slipped off his socks. I'm not into feet or anything kinky like that, but I could not help notice how perfect they were compared to my stubby toes and thick toenails. Trust the handsome stud to even have good-looking feet. Unbuckling his belt and unsnapping the clasp of his trousers, I pulled down his fly and eased his trousers down his hips and helped him step out of them. He had strong, muscular legs, the legs of a jogger, and the blond hairs were sparse and barely visible. He stood there in his blue Fruit of the Loom jockey shorts, his face flushed a bright red with embarrassment. The boys all hooted and cheered and neither of us could do a thing about it.

"Com'on, take off his underwear!" called Master Billie.

Slipping my hands under the elastic band, I could not help but notice how smooth and how warm his skin was to my touch. I very slowly eased down his briefs, not that I was trying to tease the boys, but because I've never stripped a man before. I was embarrassed doing it to him, and he was doubly embarrassed having it done. As I eased his briefs down he instinctively put his hands in front of him but Master Jay was quick to tell him to put his hands at his sides. He stood there stark naked, staring at the floor and looking like he could die of shame. I knew how he felt, having been forced to expose myself under the boy's command, and I knew there was worse yet to come.

"Hey, lookit his dink," said Billie's friend. "I've never seen a dink that looks like that."

"Why's it different from yours, Mr. Wallace?" Billie asked.

"Mine is circumcised, Bradley's is uncircumcised."

"What's that mean?"

"Circumcised means the bit of skin that covers the glans of the penis has been cut off. Men refer to a penis that's been circumcised as being cut, and one that's not as uncut," I continued, compelled to tell the boys everything I knew.

"Freakin," said Tyler.

"So, what's this glans thing?" asked Jarred.

"The bulb at the end of a penis," I replied, feeling like a biology teacher.

"So why do some people have it done and others don't?"

"It's part of some religions, like for the Jews, and a lot of doctors think it should be done because it's healthier and easier to keep the penis clean. If you don't wash the bulb regularly stuff builds up under the skin."

"Dick cheese," the fourteen-year-old said knowingly and the others giggled at the term.

"So, how can ya wash it if it's covered with skin?"

"You have to pull the skin back."

"Oh yeah? Show us," said the nine-year-old as if this was a kindergarten show-and-tell class. Actually, as I thought about it, it would have been only four years ago that he was in kindergarten! That was a weird thought as I looked at him now sitting there on the bed with his buddies and staring at the naked man standing before him. I glanced at Bradley. He was standing there embarrassed as hell having us talking about him and being unable to object.

"Well, com'on, ya heard Darren."

As I reached over and held up Bradley's limp penis, the boys all moved to the foot of the bed to watch. I was surprised how different it felt holding another man's penis. Although a man holds his own at least once if not more often each day, it is totally different having someone else's in your hand. Maybe that's because you're so use to the feel of your own. Anyway, not only did it feel strange holding another man's cock, I found it disgusting. I've never touched another man's privates in all my life, and I'd been raised to believe to do so was filthy and wrong. Despite those feelings, I had to do as my masters said, and more. Dutifully, I squeezed his knob gently with my thumb and first two fingers and very slowly began to draw his foreskin back. The dark purple knob began to peek out from the skin collar and the boys murmured and dug each other in the ribs. I continued to draw his skin back, staring down at what I was doing so I did not have to see the look of embarrassment and frustration in his eyes. Exposing his dark purple glans, I continued to draw the skin back until I had stretched it down the shaft, exposing the pinkish-white flesh directly below his knob.

"Freakin'," said Tyler again.

I let go of his penis and the foreskin immediately crawled up his shaft and back over his glans to it's normal position.

"Hey, lookit it! How'd ya do that Straight Boy?"

"I 3; I didn't do it. It just does that by itself," he replied, struggling with talking about sex with a bunch of kids, and struggling with having them control when he did speak and when he didn't.

"Kewel!" said the two nine-year-old boys together, and they looked at each other and giggled.

"Do it again, Mr. Wallace," commanded Master Billie.

"Yeah," the others all encouraged.

Once again I took the young man's warm, flaccid cock between my thumb and first two fingers and slowly drew back his skin. Once again it slid back into position as I released it.

"So," said the oldest boy, looking at Jay. "You gonna make them do it or what?"

"Yeah, I said we would," Jay said, sounding a bit uncomfortable for the first time since I'd known him. As I looked at the boys sitting at the foot of the bed staring at my naked colleague and then at Jay, I wondered if maybe he had a bit of a conscience after all.

"So what we gonna make them do?" asked Billie.

Jay looked at Tyler with what I figured to be a desperate look, and then at me.

"What's the matter?" asked Jarred.

"Nothing," said Jay, now definitely uncomfortable. "C***** suggested we make them do sex together and we will."

"How can guys have sex together?" asked Darren. "I know how a man and women have sex, but a guy don't have a pussy."

"C***** said," Jay began, pulling out a folded paper from his back pocket and reading from it, " 3;ask what are the different ways two guys can have sex with each other. The old guy has to tell them." He looked up at me with a curious look.

"It could mean several things," I replied as the command that my job was to please them again came to the forefront, along with the objection to being considered old at forty-four.

"So tell us, how do two guys have sex," Jay pressed, and I realized what the problem had been. Despite all his bravo and despite the perverted things he'd been making me do, he was only eleven, and he had the experiences and knowledge of an eleven-year-old, although I have to say he had to be more evil than most. The problem was, he did not know how men had sex, and couldn't see how that could be possible either. He couldn't admit he didn't know to his friends, and he couldn't be sure the person who'd written to him wasn't putting him on. He wasn't going to risk being made a fool of in front of his friends by some stranger on the net.

"Well," I began, "they could jack off together, or jack off each other."

"What's that?" asked Darren innocently.

"You know, like he did in the alley. Wank it," Jay replied, quickly having regained his confidence.

"Oh."

"Or they could engage in oral sex."

"What's that?" asked Billie.

"Use their mouths," I explained.

"You know, cocksuckers," Jarred elaborated, and the two younger boys smirked at each other.

"Or there's anal sex."

"I know what anal means," said Darren proudly, "asshole."

"Can a guy really stick his dick up another guy's asshole?"

"Yes."

"That it?"

"Pretty well. There are other things, fetishes, that guys do that turn them on."

"Like what?"

"Well, like feet for example. Some people get really turned on by people's feet."

"Umm, Billie, wanna have sex with my foot?" Darren asked with a grin, and the others laughed. "How can ya have sex with a foot?"

"A man could massage another man's feet, or jack off another man with his feet, or lick his feet and stuff like that."

"So we gonna make'm have sex or what?" Billie asked impatiently.

"Sure."

"So what we gonna make'm do?"

Jay thought for a moment, and then turned to Bradley. "So, if a woman didn't wanna fuck, which of those would you like most to do to her?"

Bradley didn't need to think. He'd probably engaged in all of them at one time or another. "Definitely fuck her ass."

"Then that's it," announced Jay, and Bradley looked at me almost apologetically for having mentioned it. "Mr. Wallace'll fuck Straight Boy's ass."

Bradley looked at him and then at me in surprise. He had fully expected it to be the other way around.

"You'd like Mr. Wallace to fuck your ass, wouldn't you."

"Yes," he said obediently but reluctantly.

"Com'on, bend over and wiggle your butt and tell Mr. Wallace how hot you are for him and how badly you want him to fuck you."

Bradley reluctantly turned around and bent over. Wagging his butt, he parroted, "I'm really hot for you. I'd do anything if you'd fuck my butt."

"Beg on your knees."

Bradley dropped to he knees. "Please, Mr. Wallace. Please fuck me. I need to feel your cock up my butt."

The boys all hooted and laughed and high-fived. I felt sorry for him, being forced to beg not just another man, but a senior colleague, to do such a demeaning thing to him. It had to be even harder considering what a womanizer he was.

"So go ahead, Mr. Wallace. Take off your pants and underwear and fuck him."

I did as I was told, quickly stepping out of my pants and my briefs, memories of the previous week coming back. Even though all of the boys there had already seen me naked, and not only that, had seen me masturbating, I still felt embarrassed standing there before them in only my socks and shirt. Bradley got down on his hands and knees and I got in position behind him. I began to stroke myself.

"Hey, ya ain't supposta be wanking it, yer supposta be fuckin'," said Tyler.

"I have to get it hard first," I explained dutifully to my master. "I'd never be able to get it in if it wasn't hard."

Tyler looked down sheepishly and I was reminded again just how naive these boys really were in some respects. As I continued to play with myself, I also reminded myself that their innocence was quickly being lost. Despite my mental rejection, my body responded physically and I was soon stiff. Shuffling up to Bradley, I pressed my stiff cock against his hole, but it was too tight, and my cock either slid up his asscrack or down between his legs. There was no way I was going to get it in him despite how badly I wanted to please my masters, and it was beginning to hurt.

This was a totally new experience for both of us, and for the boys for that matter, and was not as simple as one might think. It certainly was not something I nor Bradley had ever even thought about until now, and neither had much of an idea how to go about it. Porn has never interested me, and in fact, has disgusted me, and my young friend evidently wasn't a purveyor of such either.

However, I was desperate to do what my masters had told me to and I used my imagination. Spitting on my finger, I slipped it up his hole in an attempt to get him looser. I followed that with two fingers, and then three. All the while Bradley squirmed and panted hotly with equal desperation and the boys laughed and commented on our efforts as they sat there on the bed watching.

"I'm going to need a lubricant."

"What's a lubricant?" asked Jay.

"Something to make his hole slippery so I can get my erection up it, Vaseline or butter or something."

"How about spit?"

"Yeah, great idea, Billie," observed Jay. "If ya fill his asshole with yer spit, that should make it good and slippery," Jay suggested.

"Yeah, put your lips against his asshole and spit in it!" laughed Tyler.

I immediately fastened my lips to his puckered hole and worked my saliva into it amidst the boy's calls of suckhole and ass-sucker, laughter, and exaggerated gagging. After several minutes I withdrew my face, my chin and lips smeared with spit, much to the amusement of my three masters. I once again got behind Bradley and positioned my stiff penis at his now spit-dripping hole. I slowly felt my cock begin to penetrate him. He grunted with the effort, as did I.

"Hey, they're grunting like pigs," observed Master Jay and the boys all laughed.

"They're really hot for each other," observed Billie.

"He's doing it, our slave's getting his dick up Straight Boy's ass!" Tyler shouted excitedly.

"Far out! A guy really can stick his dick up another guy's asshole."

Having pressed my cock in as far as I could, I paused for a moment feeling proud and happy that I had pleased my three masters and I grinned at them while another part of my mind screamed that this was immoral, and doubly wrong doing it in front of a bunch of boys. The boys gave me the thumbs up sign, evidently not feeling the same, and they high-fived each other with wide grins themselves.

I slowly began to ease my cock in and out of the handsome young man that I really barely knew even though we worked together. I was now knowing him more intimately than anyone else in the office. As I slowly fucked him, I could not believe it. There I was, a forty-four-year-old bachelor, fucking the butt of a young straight womanizer on my bedroom floor while four prepubescent boys and a fourteen-year-old sat on my bed watching us like we were some live porno show. Actually, as I think about it now, I guess that is what we were.

"So, how ya like gettin' yer butt fucked, Straight Boy?"

"Its 3; strange," he managed to answer. Although I could not see his face, I could sense his anger and his shame. I was embarrassed fucking him. I could not even imagine how embarrassing it must be to have a group of boys watching you getting fucked.

"Tell Mr. Wallace how great its making ya feel, and tell him to never stop."

"This is making me feel great. Don't ever stop," he said blankly.

"Fuck, man, you're gettin' me pissed off," snarled Jay. "Now say it like ya mean it or you're gonna get kicked in the nuts."

"This is really great," he said more enthusiastically.

"What is?" Jay asked as he got off the bed.

"Getting my ass fucked really feels great," Bradley continued. "It feels so great I don't ever want you to stop." Although his voice was saying it, I knew that in his mind he was screaming that this was not happening to him. I knew he was feeling just as dirty and used as I was at that moment.

Despite my disgust at what the boys were making the two of us do, I soon felt my climax approaching and I could not help but speed up. I grasped my young partner's hips tightly and thrust my cock in and out of his hot, grasping hole like I'd been doing this all my life. The boys cheered me on and told my partner to do so too.

"Oh yeah," he groaned. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard, Mr. Wallace. Ohhh, this feels so good! Do it to me!"

I did, and I shuddered a minute later as I pumped my load into his body. As I grunted with my release, the five boys cheered. Totally spent, I finally had to stop to catch my breath.

"Wank him off, slave."

"Yes, Master Jay."

With my cock still up his butt, I reached around and grasped his stiff organ in my hand. He was aroused from the hot fucking I'd given him, and it only took a few dozen strokes to bring him the rest of the way. His load squirted out onto the bedroom carpet in thick, white ropes.

"That was great," Jay said as we finally separated.

"So, should we make them do one of the other ones?" Darren asked.

"Naw, we don't wanna wear the old farts out," Jay observed. "Besides, we can come over and make them do anything anytime we want."

"There is something I'd like them to do before we leave," said Jarred.

"Sure, what's that."

"That idea about feet sounded wild. I'd like them to lick my feet."

"All right. You heard Jarred. Take off his Nikes and socks and get on your hands and knees and beg to lick his feet."

We did as we were told, dropping to our knees at the foot of the bed and each removing a sneaker. The typical aroma of a young boy's feet after being confined in hot sneakers all day wafted up through the air much to the joshing and laughing by the others. Tyler held his nose and Jarred jabbed him in the ribs. We removed his socks. His feet may have had a sneaker odour, but they were clean.

"Please, Jarred, let me lick your foot," I found myself saying.

"Me too, please, I have to lick your foot, Jarred."

"Say pretty please with sugar on it," suggested Billie.

"Pretty please with sugar on it," we parroted and the boys rolled over on the bed with laughter.

"Go ahead," he said, and we immediately bent our heads and began to lick the fourteen-year-old's feet.

They were salty, and a bit acrid from his sweat, but not that repugnant.

"Suck on my toes, starting with the big one," he commanded.

I slipped my mouth about his big toe and began to suck on it as Bradley attacked his left foot. Two grown men keeling there on the floor eagerly sucking on the toes of a fourteen-year-old boy! Who would have believed it! And how much more demeaning could things be?

"Too bad you're feet aren't really dirty. They could have toe jam to eat," giggled Billie.

"Toe jam and dick cheese," observed Darren and all five of them giggled.

Jarred stopped us, and standing up, he dropped his jeans and stepped out of them. He quickly did the same with his boxers. He had a little patch o blond hairs at the base of his cock but none on his balls, which where hanging in a large, loose sack. His limp dick was four inches [10 cm] long and two fingers thick. I noticed he was cut. He had to be well hung or partially aroused. "Okay," he said, "I want you to start at my ankles and lick all the way up to my crotch and butthole."

I obediently got on hands and knees and began to lick, running my tongue around his ankles and then slowly proceeding up the slender calf. If I wrapped my hand about it, I would have almost been able to touch my fingers and thumb his calves were so slender. Bradley was obediently licking his other leg. As we began to lick the inside of his thighs he squirmed and giggled and told the boys that it really tickled.

"It must feel great too," Jay observed, "your dick's gotten hard."

Bradley and I both looked at his swollen dick. It was sticking up in the air at an angle, five inches [12½ cm] of hard, aching boy meat. We continued our licking. As I proceeded to his balls and began to lick the loose, dangling nuts, Bradley worked his way around to the back and began licking up his asscrack and tonguing his asshole. The young teen squirmed with excitement and his cock jerked excitedly before my eyes. His balls were salty from sweat, and had a strong, musky boy aroma. After several minutes of this, he laid down on his back on my bed and told us to lick his dick.

Kneeling on the floor on either side of him and half lying across the bed, we began to lick his swollen cock and inhale the musky boy odour of his hot genitals. I could not believe what was happening, two grown men on their knees lapping at a young fourteen-year-old boy's hot, stiff boy dick like it was a popsicle on the hottest day in July. That was what I was doing, and in my slave's mind, that was what it was like. I ran my tongue from the base of his balls along the smooth shaft and over the glans to the tip, swallowed my dick-flavoured saliva, and then repeated it as Bradley did the same on the other side. Our audience hooted and cheered appreciatively.

The young teen suddenly moaned and thrust his hips upward and his first squirt of his boy cumm erupted from his hot, throbbing cock. It shot straight up into the air and then fell back down, striking his now tight balls and oozing down them to soak into my bed. It was followed immediately by a squirt of equal volume that landed in his spit-soaked hairs in a slimy blob. The third splattered his left thigh and the fourth his right. By this time it had lost it's force but not it's volume and more throbbed out of his irritated organ and flowed down it like wax from a melting candle. The other four boys just sat there staring at him in awe, too surprised to speak.

Having been told to lick his cock and having no orders to stop, Bradley and I continued to run our tongues up and down the shaft, now licking up his hot, salty boy cumm as we did so.

"Oh yeah," he groaned. "Lick it off, lick it all off me you fuckin' cocksuckers!"

He'd unloaded a lot, and for the next several minutes Bradley and I scooped the slimy, white goo off his thighs and nuts with our tongues. I was disgusted by the act and nauseated by the taste and the smell, and it had to be even worse for a stud like Bradley, but neither of us had any choice. We licked up and swallowed his cumm like it was cream despite our mental objections. Jarred finally had us stop.

"Oh fuck. that was fantastic!" he sighed.

"Man, you squirted so hard you almost hit the ceiling!" said Jay.

"Yeah," agreed Tyler. "I thought ya was never gonna stop squirtin'!"

Jarred looked at the two boys appreciatively, his flushed face reflecting not just the pleasure from shooting off his load but now pride too.

"What is that stuff anyway?" asked Darren.

"That's the stuff that makes babies," Billie informed him knowingly.

"I thought only men could do that."

"Guys can, once they're old enough," said Jarred, proudly running his fingers through his spit-slick hairs. "Oh fuck, lookit the time. I gotta get home," he said, leaping off the bed and reaching for his clothes. If I'm late for supper, my mom'll have a cow!"

"Yeah, it was time we was all goin'," Jay announced getting off the bed.

"From now on, whenever ya see each other, yer gonna think about this afternoon," he said to us. "Yer gonna ache to have Mr. Wallace fuck your ass again, and yer gonna ache to stick yer cock up Straight Boy's asshole again. Yer both gonna want it so bad yer gonna get woodies just seein' each other, understand?"

"Yes, Master Jay," I replied and Bradley agreed.

"It's been fun," Jay said with a grin. "You'll be sure to write up a good story," he said looking at me. "I'll drop by later to pick it up, and we can talk about next weekend's wild party."

"Yes, Master Jay," I replied as my heart sunk to a new low. What else could the preteen monster be planning? Surely this was the worst that it could get.

"Well, we'll see you assholes," Tyler said with a knowing look at Jay.

We stood there helplessly as the boys left my bedroom and we felt ourselves coming back out from under their spell. We could not look at each other as we quickly got dressed and left my bedroom. Neither of us could find the courage to say the words we had to say. Although we both knew we'd done these filthy things with each other against our will, we were too ashamed to talk about it.

I do know that as Bradley headed down the walk to his car, he was dreading having to go to work Monday just as badly as I was. Even though I fully planned on avoiding him, I knew that was not always going to be possible, and we both knew what our reaction would be, thanks to our two masters, when we did meet. At least I knew I was not going to have to suffer listening to Bradley's latest sexual escapade at coffee break on Monday.

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