PZA: Rent-a-Kid 5-11

Waking up in another's bed is always an occupational hazard, so to speak, but I've gotten used to waking up in Randy's bed. I was now lying on my side, facing out, and Randy was 'spooned' up behind me with his cock buried between my buttcheeks. This was becoming more and more the norm when I slept at the Potters' house.

I hit the alarm and cleared the sleep junk from my eyes. Randy, Mickey, and Red were still snoring loudly, a clear sign that they didn't get disturbed by the noise. I eased myself out of Randy's 'spooned' body and made my way to the bathroom for the morning piss.

When I walked in, Roger was taking a shower. I looked at my backside in the foggy mirror before sitting down at the toilet. The damage seemed to be disappearing. There were only a few bruises left over. The ointment had done its job well. I guessed by tomorrow all of the marks will be gone.

I took my leak and exited, leaving Roger to his shower and the others to their snoozes. I made my way downstairs to the kitchen where Amy was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. She looked up when she saw me walk inside.

"Yes, ma'am," I said and sat down gingerly at the table. She poured some cereal into a bowl for me and poured in the milk afterwards.

"Your bruises are looking better," she commented. I nodded with a mouth full of Honeycombs and milk. She returned to her paper while I ate the rest of the bowl in silence. I put the bowl in the sink when I was finished then rejoined her at the table. I read the comics, but that didn't take too long. I noticed while she was sitting there, she kept stealing glances at me.

"Thank you, Amy. But I'm fine; really," I said with a slight smile. I really did feel fine about what had happened that night.

Due to her concern, I felt like I owed her something for all the times she had taken care of us houseboys. I looked under the table as she sat with the newspaper, and noticed that under her house robe, she was not wearing any underwear. When I looked back up, she was reading more intensely at a particular section. This was my chance.

I told you before that I knew how to please both men and women. Who do you think taught me how to please the women?

I eased myself down from the chair and under the table. I slinked over to kneel between her legs. When I licked up her leg, she jumped in her chair.

"Scotty, come out of there," she said, but I could tell she wasn't that serious.

She started giggling as I continued to lick her inner thigh. Her hand pushed my head away, but it wasn't with her full strength. She knew how well I had paid attention during her lessons.

What really made her jump was when my tongue made contact with her outer labia. She stopped all pretense of resistance then. Her legs opened wider and she slipped down in the chair a bit further. I pushed my way forward towards my goal and she gasped when I hit pay dirt. Her legs were now wide open and she was accepting the tongue-lashing I was giving her pussy.

My tongue found its way between the two outer folds of skin (thankfully she shaved her pussy bald) and hit the inner layers of her sex. As her folds parted, I could taste male cum; apparently Dan had had a good morning also. When I hit her clit, she lost all interest in the Sunday paper. Within mere minutes, I had her pounding the table in the throws of an orgasm. She was one of those gusher types of women that shoot out the juice. My face felt like it had been dunked in sugar water with the mixture of male and female jizm.

I swung my head around to see Dan standing there in his boxers. I climbed out from under the table to face him.

"Finger-lickin' good, Dan," I said with a satisfied smile on my face. I hadn't heard him laugh that hard in a long while. It was good to hear. Amy, meanwhile, was still recovering from her euphoric state.

When I got back upstairs, the other guys were still asleep, so I let them alone. I walked in the bathroom to shower, and Roger was still in there. I didn't want to wait any longer for a shower. It had been too long and I smelled like a cheap whore (not the expensive one that I was).

"No, come on in," he said and parted the curtain for me. "What was going on downstairs? It sounded like Mom was having an orgasm or something."

I just smiled to myself. I grabbed a washcloth and started to clean off the dirt that had accumulated over the past two days. When I couldn't reach a certain spot, Roger grabbed the cloth and scrubbed it for me; I did the same for him.

At one point he bent over to wash the shampoo out of his hair and I grabbed his little cock and started wanking it. He moaned his appreciation and moved his butt backwards into me.

You see, Roger was a lot like Randy and me; he didn't mind things going up his asshole, as long as it wasn't too big that it hurt. I slipped my small boner inside his well-laid ass. As I fucked the kid, he cooed at having his own cock stroked. We came at the same time with only mild orgasms, but pleasant ones.

"Okay, guys, get out of the shower before you waste all the hot water," Dan said to us from the doorway. We almost slipped and fell from being startled by him. We did finish the shower quickly, though.

The other guys were up by the time Roger and I had finished our shower, and they had theirs, but with very little hot water, thanks to me, Dan, and Roger. After all of us were dressed, we made our way outside to play. Mickey, Red, Randy, Roger and I went around the neighborhood to try and see how much trouble we could get ourselves into.

Just after noon, we made our way back for lunch, and then back out again. About an hour after lunch, we saw Trish walking up the sidewalk. The other three had not been told about Trish and Carry being there on Friday night. Only Randy and I knew about what had happened or that Trish was in our line of work.

"Hey, Trish," Red called out to her. She looked up and saw the five of us. I thought she looked like she was about to bolt for a second. Randy and I just looked at each other.

She only shrugged her shoulders, trying not to look at me or Randy. Her face had turned a little pinker as well.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Usually, you don't stop talking. What gives?" Red was being persistent with his questions. I don't blame him. He was right, though; usually we can't get her to shut up. This time she answered, though.

"Look, uh, Red," I began, "let's leave her alone, okay? She obviously doesn't want to talk."

Trish looked at me then, but not in an angry way. The look was hard to place. If I had to give it a name, I'd have to call it confusion.

"Fine; whatever," Red shot back. "Come on, guys, let's leave the bitch alone if that's what she wants." This was unusual for Red as well. Normally he would be concerned and almost never called a girl a 'bitch'.

Trish didn't seem concerned by the comment, and as the three of them walked away, she mouthed the words, "thank you" to me and Randy. I mouthed back, "tomorrow". She nodded, and we went our separate ways for the time being. She'll be in school the next day, and we would get a chance to talk then.

"Come on, guys, let's go if we're gonna go," Red called back to us. Randy and I went to rejoin the others.

The five of us walked and talked for another half an hour or so until we ran into Jake, the last of our little group of houseboys. We saluted each other and walked on talking about our weekend so far.

When we got to the set of small woods at the edge of the subdivision, we went inside as we normally do. We sat down and talked about the clients we had to deal with over the last two nights, and Randy and I told him about Friday night at the college. He was just as appalled as the rest of us at what happened.

After discussing it in full length, Red popped up with the idea that always comes to us eventually. Tie someone to a tree. This time the lot fell on Mickey. Following a mild complaint, he stripped off his clothes and reached around to hug the tree behind him. We used the strings of his shoes to tie his hands together as tight as possible. Within minutes he was rubbing his crotch against the rough bark of the tree. As suspected, he was sporting a hard-on immediately. Getting tied up always had that effect on him and the rougher, the better.

When we had his hands tied around the trunk of the tree, we tied his ankles to two roots that had raised themselves above the ground. The roots were in opposite directions and we forced his legs wide open by tying his ankles to them. He was still using his pelvis to try and achieve an orgasm. To help him along, I took his shoe and swatted his fat ass with the sole. Randy took up the other one on his left buttcheek. We swatted the hell out of his ass. He was screaming for more as each shoe landed on his soft backside.

During the swatting, I had a flash of Rudy, but I quickly shoved it out of my mind. I saw Randy have a similar flash as he hesitated once also, but did continue with the fun.

We didn't realize we were making so much noise until a police officer barged through the bushes and shocked the living shit out of us.

"What the hell is going on here?" He demanded of us. We were so stunned that we just stood there looking at him with out mouths wide open like idiots.

"P-please, Sir; he likes it," Randy offered to him. I think he was more scared about what our little club was about than anything else the cop represented.

Mickey flushed red at being caught, with his pants down, so to speak, but nodded. The cop was stunned silent for a few seconds, but recovered quickly.

Mickey shrugged then told him that it made him feel good. He knew enough not to say, 'cum', or 'orgasm'. Saying those words would definitely tell the cop something. But I was getting the feeling that from the demeanor of the cop, we were not in trouble any longer. In fact, a bulge was rising in the crotch of the cop's pants.

When I saw the bulge, I elbowed Randy and nodded in the direction of the cop's crotch. He smiled at that same knowledge. The cop looked around as if to ask if he was on Candid Camera, or something. We shrugged as he looked at each of us in turn.

"So, you like some pain, huh?" He asked. But it was more of a statement than a question. Mickey nodded, slightly. With that, the cop, Officer Johansen, took out his nightstick and lined it up with Mickey's asscheeks. He pulled the stick back and brought it down on his fat ass. The swing wasn't too hard, but it did get Mickey's attention better. He ground his crotch into the bark of the tree even harder. What really gave it away to the officer was the groan Mickey made.

Officer Johansen smiled then swung the stick a little harder into Mickey's cubby butt. After another three swings, the officer decided that was enough and placed the tip of the nightstick at Mickey's rear entrance. He looked to Randy as if for confirmation and Randy nodded his approval. The cop shoved the stick inside Mickey's ass with a ferocious shove.

Mickey swallowed a scream that was just begging to get out. Officer Johansen was impressed with Mickey's ability to handle the pain. He pulled the stick out and unbuttoned his fly. And with the other five of us watching, shoved his nine inch prick up my friend's well-fucked asshole.

I saw Mickey move his ass back into Officer Johansen's crotch as the elongated digit invaded his innards. I noticed his own member was stiff as a board. It was a little raw from rubbing against the tree bark, but it was just as stiff as it could be. Mickey always did enjoy a large cock up his ass and to be fucked as hard as possible. Officer Johansen was giving Mickey what he liked most.

The officer tore into him like a starving man tears into a steak. Within mere moments after the initial invasion, Officer Johansen tightened up and released his sperm deep inside my friend's backside. When he came down from his euphoric high, he realized what he had done, and the look on his face was priceless.

I had to smile at his terror filled face. He started scrambling around for the belt to his pants and pulled them up with a swift jerk.

"Um 3; Officer Johansen," Randy started, "if you're worried about getting into trouble; don't. We won't say a word to anyone."

He eased up a bit with those words, but he still had a look in his eyes like he was headed for death row. Randy talked him down some more before telling him that all six of us engaged in the same type of behavior. That shocked him.

"Normally, it would be a hundred for an hour, but 3;" he looked at Officer Johansen and shrugged. "Since you've had your fun already, there's no sense in charging you, is there?"

He smiled and shrugged back. "No, I guess not. Hope to see you around, boys. Have fun," he said then went to his car and drove away.

"Why do I get the feeling that that wasn't the last time we're going to see Officer Johansen?" I snidely asked Randy. He snickered and we turned our attentions back to Mickey. Jizm was running down his legs and his asscheeks were red as turnips, but he had a smile on his face. His prick was flaccid after cumming when Officer Johansen did, so we went ahead and untied him from the tree.

Mickey redressed and we left the area smiling to ourselves. I remember walking and talking about each of our clients in turn, just happy not being at work. You see, at this point, I had made a considerable amount of money over the past six months. If you averaged it out to just about twenty clients per weekend, or twenty hours worked, you get about fifteen hundred per weekend. For six months of work, I had just under forty thousand dollars saved up. Not bad for a ten-year-old.

To be honest, I had begun to enjoy the work. Getting a dick up your ass puts the world into a whole different perspective. I even enjoyed the rougher clients. They usually tipped better. The college assholes were an exception to the rule.

We spent the rest of the day walking and chatting until it was time to work. The six of us made our way back to the Potter's house to be distributed out to our clients. I remember that evening as if it happened yesterday.

Dan dropped each of us off to the houses and I was last to be let off. He parked outside a hotel. I was told to go into a room 216. Dan told me not to talk once I entered. I nodded. This wasn't too odd; a lot of my clients didn't care for talking, just fucking.

I did as I was told, and without too much trouble I was standing outside the appropriate room number. I knocked and the door opened. I walked in to a totally dark room. A hand went over my mouth and I was pushed to the bed. With one hand he pushed the door closed on the way over to the bed. I was shoved down to my knees and bent over the edge of the bed. He used one hand to hold my face into the mattress by keeping it at the back of my neck; something I've always hated, but have learned to tolerate. I hate anyone touching my neck.

With my face in the mattress, he used his other hand to violently jerk my shirt up and over my head. While still holding my face down, he unbuttoned my pants and shoved them down my legs. My trainers and socks were torn off my feet then the last remnant of my clothes was removed just as harshly. Once I was completely naked, he spoke for the first time.

"Just wait till I get my cock up that tight ass of yours. You're gonna scream like hell."

I felt his precum dripping at the top of the crack of my ass, and I could tell that he had been waiting for me for some time. Before I could do or say anything, he moved his free hand down to his cock and lined it up to my asshole. Without preamble, he slid the whole thing inside me in one thrust. I let out a long groan as I felt his cock slam home. He must have been at least ten inches [30 cm] long and about as wide as my wrist. Of course I had had a cock up my ass that was that big before, but I was still sore from Friday night.

I felt him withdraw some of his cock and slide it back inside. Now the reaming began. It didn't take long before that cock of his was slamming into me at top velocity. He still held my face down to the bed by the back of my neck, but his other hand was holding onto my waist as he fucked the shit out of me.

I wiggled around to try and get a more comfortable position, but having a telephone pole shoved up my ass meant that it wasn't going to happen. I tried to go to my 'other world' in my mind, but I couldn't get the familiarity of his voice out of my head. He continued to pummel my backside without mercy as I struggled with my internal problem.

Within a couple of strokes, he made a guttural lunge and sent his sperm flying inside me. As he calmed down from the strength of his orgasm, he slipped his cock out of my asshole and walked over to the light and flipped it on. I turned to confirm who I was with and I saw my history teacher, Mr. Flint, walking back to the hotel room's bath. I didn't know if I was able to move or not, so, as I was taught, I just laid there with his jizm running down my legs.

I heard him rinse himself off in the bathroom and return to the beds. That was when he saw my face. The look on his face was priceless. I don't think I've ever seen a person go that white that fast before. I almost laughed at his reaction, but held it back.

"May I get washed up, Sir?" I asked him. He only nodded. I got up and walked past him to the bathroom. When I was finished in there, he still hadn't moved an inch. The truth about what had just happened was still working its way through his brain.

"You okay, Mr. Flint?" I asked him as I sat back down on the bed, still nude. It was a strange kind of quiet in the room; almost as if we were waiting for a bomb to go off or something.

He nodded his answer, but didn't talk. He finally moved and walked over to the bed and sat down next to me. I smiled, trying to reassure him that this would stay private, of course. He didn't return the smile.

"Don't worry, Mr. Flint," I said, "I won't say anything to anyone. I would have a hard time explaining everything, you know." He didn't comment.

I needed to make him know that what had just happened would stay in this room between the two of us. I reached over and cupped his balls in my left hand. His cock began to grow in spite of him being in some sort of shock. With my right hand, I reached over and began to stroke the tool that had just penetrated my large intestines. He moved his hands to block my movements, but I would have none of that. I moved his hand away with a small swat.

"Don't 3;," he said, but didn't finish, as I swung down and swallowed half of his overly large cock down my throat. From that time on, I had him. I slipped his prick out and took a breath and slid it back inside, but this time all the way to the hilt. My nose hit his pubic hair, and I felt his cock down my gullet. There wasn't any more of him to take inside me. He began to thrust his hips back and forth, causing the head of his cock to slip in and out of my esophagus. By this time I had trained myself not to gag, of course, and to breathe when possible to allow maximum amount of time to have him inside my tube.

Even though he had just cum, it didn't take my skilled mouth long before he made a final thrust and deposited a sum of jizm down my gullet. Pulling his cock out, he looked down at me with a look of wonderment. I smiled back up at him.

"'Bout six months or so," I answered him back. Of course, what he didn't know was that he wasn't the only teacher at the school that had fucked me. My math teacher, Mr. Martin also had taken his liberties with me (more on that later).

As we continued to talk, I noticed that he was getting hard again. I glanced down at my watch and saw that we still had another twenty minutes or so to go before the hour was up. I pointed those two facts out to him and he smiled again.

All I did was lay back on the bed we were sitting on, turned over and spread my legs. He took the invitation. He was on top of me in mere seconds, driving his rehardened cock up my ass for a second time. He didn't take me as hard as he did before, and I wanted him to know that it was okay.

"Harder, Sir," I told him. He shoved his overly large cock in harder, but still not as hard as the first time. "Harder, Mr. Flint," I repeated. He gave a really violent shove, causing air to escape out of my lungs, sounding like a "huh". That was what I was wanting from him, and he didn't let up. "Harder," I said just as his cock slammed into me again. The next one forced me to grab the other side of the bed to prevent me from sliding off the mattress. He took me at my word then and got even rougher.

I was experienced enough now to know what my clients want after just a few seconds of meeting them. Some men want a cute innocent boy to play with; some even will suck my cock to orgasm. Some others want a whipping toy. The last category are those who work with and around children who are frustrated enough and want to fuck the shit out of some kid. Mr. Flint and Mr. Martin fall into that category, as well as my principal, Mr. Tyson.

Anyway, he fucked me like a man who had been on a deserted island for decades. I continue to hold onto the bed covers for dear life, waiting for him to finish again. I stayed alert the entire time so that I could move as he wanted me to, but at this point it didn't matter to him if I were a warm corpse. His thrusts were so hard and violent, that by the time he was finished with me, I wasn't going to be able to sit down for a week without squirming. Of course the beating I took from the college assholes didn't help matters either.

At one point, he reached up and grabbed my hands. He pulled them behind my back and used them to keep me where he wanted me. His thrusts were nearing the animalistic point after only a few more minutes. He got into it and into it quickly.

Mr. Flint took several more thrusts to cum, but it wasn't very much after having cum twice earlier. He released my arms and fell onto my back. We laid like that for a minute or so until I heard a knock at the door; Dan was here to pick me up for the night.

Chapter 7
From the Beginning

Scott goes looking back at the first time with a teacher of his and remembers that a few surprises came his way.

Dan walked me out to the car and we rode back to pick up the others in silence. I was deep in thought about how things had progressed for me. My episode with Mr. Flint had sent me back to when I first realized another teacher of mine was being turned on by my body 3;

School of course started, as it always did, and the five of us that were 'house kids' had sort of formed our own clique. We hung around with only each other and very few others ever talked to us. We had something in common that the rest of the class had no clue about; only speculation and gossip.

The classes seemed to drone on forever. When the weekend hit, we had our clients to take care of, and money to make. I think I made my first grand that weekend. By the end of that month, I had socked away just under five grand in cash. Not bad for a ten-year-old.

It was reaching into October when I first noticed the stirrings from my math teacher, Mr. Martin. I caught him looking at my ass once when I was at the blackboard. I smiled at the attention, but didn't return any looks. I let it go for the time being.

For the rest of that week, I allowed him to stare all he wanted, and each time a tent formed in his pants. He wanted me, and I knew it, but I was making him wait for me a little longer. I do enjoy teasing. It's really a lost art form now.

Anyway, after a weekend of not working (my parents took me and my brothers out of town), I was pretty horned up on Monday morning. I was getting used to having a cock either up my ass or down my throat. I was needed one in a bad way.

Class was normal, as normal gets, until math class. During class, I flirted a lot with Mr. Martin. It was almost obvious. It was obvious to Randy and Mickey, who were watching the banter. The rest of the day, they teased me to no end.

Finally, I said as quietly as possible, "I'm horny, you assholes. I need a good hard one, okay?" They snickered, but the subject was dropped immediately.

After my last class, English, I made my way to Mr. Martin's room. As I opened the door, quietly, I saw he had his back to the empty classroom. I saw him stroking something in front of him with his right hand. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he was stroking. I walked up to his desk without making a sound and waited for him to finish his wanking job. When I got close to him, I heard him quietly talking to himself. "I'm gonna fuck the living shit outta you, boy. You feel that? Stop your crying; you love this, don't you? You little fucking cocktease. Take it, boy, and shut up, or I'm gonna whip the living shit outta you." With every sentence he stroked harder and harder on his cock.

When it seemed like it was going to take a long ass time, I decided to end his masturbation session with a slight cough. He wheeled his chair around faster than a bullet. I smiled at the look of pure terror on his face. I looked at his cock in his hand. The thing seemed to wilt faster than a dying leaf in autumn.

"Don't stop on my account, Mr. Martin," I said still smiling at his embarrassment. He still didn't move. I walked around the desk and knelt down in front of him. Moving his hand aside, I took his deflating cock in my mouth and sucked him back to full staff. His hips began to move in rhythm of my sucking him. I stopped sucking him once he was fully hardened and pulled off him.

"Nothing, Mr. Martin; I just thought I heard to say that you were gonna fuck the living shit outta me. That's all." I said with a teasing smile. "You know, I did lock the door on the way in, sir."

I don't think I've seen a person move so fast before. Before I knew it, he grabbed my waist, picked me up and threw me over the edge of his desk. Forgetting all else, my pants were yanked down to my ankles and my underpants were literally torn off my young ass.

The teacher turned animal then spat on his hand and wiped it in the crack of my ass. Losing precious little time, he lined his eight inch cock up to the entrance of my back door, and lunged forward.

"Huh," I said as he pressed into me and air escaped from my lungs. I pushed my body up off his desk as his cock penetrated me to try to get a better angle from his engorged prick. But he would have none of that. He reached around and pulled my hands back out from under me, forcing my head back down to his desk.

With his cock fully buried in my ass, he pulled my arms behind my back and crossed them over each other. Each of my hands was touching the opposite elbows. He held onto my forearms with one hand, making sure I didn't move them (as if I would), and with the other, he pulled his belt out of his trousers. I felt him reach down and pull my own belt out of my pants as well.

My smaller belt was wrapped around my forearms, while his was used to immobilize upper arms. As he pulled it tight, my arms were forced down by the pressure, twisting my belt around my forearms. I heard him open a drawer from his desk, and when I looked to see what he was doing, there was a rope in his hand. It was wrapped around my waist twice, just at the point where my wrists had ended up. The rope secured my arms to my back to making it impossible to move them. My hands ended up resting at the top of my buttocks.

"That outta hold you," he said with a satisfied grin. What he didn't know, but was coming to realize, was that this was what I was craving from someone. It had been a week and I needed a good hard fuck. Mr. Martin was giving that to me. I smiled at nothing.

He stood back up after securing my arms, grabbed the belt around my biceps, pushed into my back, and then began withdrawing from my backside. I kept smiling at nothing, just feeling the intense sensation of a hard cock that was going to ream my asshole out. I don't think my ten-year-old asshole was designed to accept an adult cock, but my lust was not listening to its protests.

Mr. Martin didn't waste anymore time. Once he was fully withdrawn from me, to his cockhead, he shoved his massive pole back inside. I loved every second of it. The animal had fully taken over him as his lunges got longer, quicker and harder.

Air was being forced out of my lungs at every thrust of his hips. My own hardened cock was being squashed between my crotch and the edge of his desk. My arms were sore from the belts and ropes being used to restrain them. I felt my legs turning to jelly as the edge of his desk cut off some of my circulation of blood. My asshole was screaming for him to stop the constant onslaught of his cock. I was aware of all of this, but I was also aware of how much I was enjoying it.

It seemed to take hours before I felt him make that final, animalistic lunge that told me he was cumming, but in reality it was just over a half an hour. The sound that escaped his lungs was more of a low growl. We were still in school, after all, so he couldn't get too wild.

When he finished, he collapsed on my back to rest. I let my legs slide down a little, trying to get some blood back down there. As he came (forgive the pun again) back to his senses, he looked down at his student, lying across his desk, tied up, and his wilting cock still buried in his asshole.

"Well, I think that'll teach you to tease me again," he said with a satisfaction in his voice. I turned to look at him in the face. The smug look said everything.

"I don't think so, Mr. Martin. I do this all the time. I needed a good hard fuck. Although, I normally charge for the pleasure of fucking me, this was something special for me. Plus you could grow your cock a little, it was a bit small." I knew that would get him.

"Why you little slut," he said with a sort of half angry, half stunned look on his face.

This was something I had experienced before with some of my clients. Some of them don't even fuck me; they just want to suck my cock. One night, I had three clients in a row that all they did was suck me off. Each of them sucked me to three dry orgasms that night. I went home on wobbly legs and went to sleep immediately at the Potter's house.

Anyway, back to Mr. Martin. I was guessing that he would probably blow me for no reason other than having a preteen cock to suck on. I was right.

As he moved to my immature sex, I saw that he was going for what I asked, so I opened my legs to allow him access. I reared my head back as warmth engulfed my hard rod. His tongue slid the length of my staff as his lips collided with my hairless groin. My hands moved on their own accord to grab his hair as the sensations flooded my brain. I began to instinctively move my hips in rhythm with his mouth. As the feelings built in intensity, he sucked my cock harder and faster until an overpowering, earth-shattering, mind-blowing eruption surged through my body. My head flew back and I couldn't help but let a howl escape into the schoolroom.

As I came down from my own euphoric high, I realized his hand had shot up and covered my mouth. I didn't know I had been that loud when I came.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" We had forgotten to lock the other door to his classroom, and the principal, Mr. Tyson, was standing in the doorway. Being a larger man, he intimidated most of the teachers, not to mention us kids.

Both Mr. Martin and I jumped about three feet [a meter] in the air as his words assaulted us. I moved off his table at lightning speed. Of course that didn't help our case as dried pink cum was still glued to the inside of my legs. I bent over and pulled my pants up as fast as possible, but not before Mr. Tyson saw the cum.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO THIS BOY?" His voice seemed to get louder, if that was possible. I saw Mr. Martin flinch and shrink into his chair. He probably thought he was dead. The look on his face was utter terror at the situation.

"Mr. Tyson," I stammered, "please don't be mad." He looked down at me and his face softened.

Yes, I had been in his office already. It was an honest error, sort of. I 'accidentally' walked into the girl's bathroom and got sent to his office. He let me off with a warning, but kept a closer eye on me. He was going to keep an even closer eye on me after this was over. I just was hoping that I could save Mr. Martin's ass, literally.

"But Mr. Tyson, I let him do those things to me, Sir," I said in the most innocent way possible.

"I wanted him to fuck me, Sir," I said with some more conviction. Besides, I figured it was now time to pull out both guns. I think his jaw could have hit the ground if he wasn't so tall.

"You gotta be kidding, Scotts. He had to do something to you," he said, incredulously.

"No, Sir, I'm not kidding. I wanted him, actually, needed him, to fuck me, and I knew he wanted me, so I took the chance. He didn't force me into anything. Please don't be mad at him or me. Please don't fire him. I trust him." I said that last part with teary eyes. I was getting desperate. The look on his face was telling me that he wasn't totally buying what I was trying to sell him. So I reached down and pulled out the tears. It worked.

I shrugged my shoulders before I answered him. "I dunno, I guess it had been a while, and I guess I needed it." He looked me straight in the eye before turning back to Mr. Martin.

"In my office, Bill. Now." Mr. Martin got up and walked out the door after him. I was left standing there in the room. Neither man said a word to me as they both walked out. I didn't know if I was to follow or not. I chose to follow, quietly.

When I got to the principal's office, I heard the two men talking behind the closed door, but there was not shouting, thankfully. I put my ear to the door to see if I could make out anything being said. It was then that I heard the principal very clearly.

"Probably on his way home, worried about my job," he said and then laughed a little at his joke.

I had heard enough. I threw the door opened to face the two men. Mr. Tyson was behind his desk and Mr. Martin was sitting in the couch opposite him. The two turn quickly to look at the intruder.

"This was a set up?" I yelled at Mr. Martin. I felt like I had been used and didn't know it. He smiled at me. That infuriated me further.

"No, Scotty, this was not a set up. Mr. Tyson caught you looking at my crotch one day and told me that you might want to see me up close. Neither one of us knew that you liked to get fucked a lot." He walked over to me and knelt down to look at me eye-level before continuing. "You were the best fuck I ever had, Scotty. I enjoyed every second of it. And I know that you enjoyed your blowjob. Let's call it square, okay?"

"No, Sir, it's not okay. I trusted you," answered him back. Tears were filling my eyes again, and they were real ones this time. I felt more and more like I had been betrayed. I didn't like this new feeling at all.

He moved to hug me, and I backed away from him. I didn't want him touching me again. I turned to run out the door to the outer office, but a 'click' sound locked me in. He reached me in no time. I was picked up and hauled back into the principal's office. Mr. Martin slammed me down on the couch he had just vacated. When I got up, I saw both men were undressing and I realized that I was really in trouble.

Mr. Tyson cleared the top of his desk with one sweep of his long arm and I was dragged over to it. Mr. Martin pushed me back down and Mr. Tyson pulled my arms towards him, stretching me over the top of the desk. My crotch had hit the edge of the desk as I was thrown into it. Mr. Martin now ripped my jeans down to my ankles and forced my legs apart as best as the material would let them.

I tightened up my sphincter muscles to make it more difficult for him to get inside my ass this time. When I felt his cockhead at the entrance, I then clenched my buttcheeks together to make it even more difficult. He slapped one cheek with the belt of his pants, and then the other on the back swing.

As the belt continued to rain down strikes, my ass became more and more enflamed, until there was no point in resisting them. I was going to get another reaming. Even after I relaxed my asscheeks, he continued to whip my ass, and I could do nothing to stop it. I screamed, cried and begged him to stop. Nothing made a difference. He still whipped me until Mr. Tyson told him to stop.

"I saw, Bill, but we don't need an investigation. There are others, you know," he said to him. It seemed like a mixture of a warning and reminder to Mr. Martin. He stopped the whipping. "Just fuck the kid so I can have my turn and we can get outta here, okay?"

He lined himself back up to my asshole again and shoved his meaty cock inside me for the second time. If I was wanting a fucking, I was going to get one; two, in fact.

"Uhhh!" Air again escaped from my lungs as he bottomed out inside me. My pelvis was hit against the principal's desk as his crotch made contact. If the last fuck was hard, it was nothing in comparison to the one I was about to get from him this time around. He would shove it in, and ground his hips into my asscheeks just to make sure he was all the way in before pulling back out for another thrust.

Mr. Tyson held my wrists tight across his desk with one hand and began to lower his own trousers with the other. When I saw his hunk of meat, I had to gasp. It wasn't very long, maybe six or seven inches [15-17 cm], but the girth on that thing was going to rip me in two. I was not looking forward to taking him up my ass, or down my throat for that matter.

As Mr. Martin continued to pummel my backside, I slipped into my nether world of my imagination to escape the assault of my two teachers. In my own world, I was king. In my own world, I fucked anything and everything I wanted, and no one got close to getting anything in my asshole. I was king.

I was living like a king when I felt a really sharp pain from my asshole that told me Mr. Martin had finished and the thick log of Mr. Tyson was being force-fed to my guts. Having Mr. Tyson reach up and grab my shoulders to steady himself, told me I was in for an even worse time than I thought.

I couldn't go back to being a king again as the pain from his wide cock was doing just as I thought; splitting me in two. I squirmed around, trying to avoid the onslaught he was delivering me, but nothing was helping. Mr. Martin had taken up the post of holding me down to the desk while his boss was ramming me. The look of pure lust on his face told me that this was going to be the first of many such encounters with these two.

I closed my eyes and just tried to deal with it as best as possible while Mr. Tyson slammed into me. It was impossible to fathom how long it took my principal to cum, but it seemed like another eternity. But, inevitable as always, I felt him pump his load into my intestines.

I sagged on the edge of his desk, not moving. I wanted to be anywhere but right here, right then.

"Close the door when you leave, Scotts," Mr. Tyson said as the two men walked out of the room and out of the school together.

I crumpled to the floor as I heard the cars drive away from the building. I wanted a fuck; I guess I got one. I was certainly satisfied; that was for sure. I felt a bit like a rag that was used and thrown away. I was used to that feeling; it was what my clients mainly did to me. I just wasn't used to it from a teacher and principal. But did that make a difference? I guess not, I thought.

I pulled my pants back up and walked out of the building to go home. I walked and thought about what had just happened. Did it hurt? Sure, but I got what I was looking for. I guess I felt as if I could handle anything if I could handle what had just happened. I smiled at myself as I continued to walk home.

"Something funny, boy?" I looked at where the question came from to find Rudy walking toward me.

"Nothin' you'd understand, Rudy," I countered. For some reason, Rudy and I didn't ever get along. But then he never got along with any of us.

"Oooooo," he mocked me. "Boy has an attitude. Maybe Mr. Tyson or Mr. Martin will have to change that with another session."

"Thanks," I retorted. I turned to walk around him to finish heading home when he cut me off.

"Please move, Rudy," I said with a sigh. I was really tired after my ordeal and just wanting to get home.

He didn't move, and I was not in the mood for any more of his stupid games. I side-stepped him to get around him, but he moved again to block my path.

I tried to step around him again, and he grabbed me by the arm and threw me into a set of bushes that was by someone's house.

I landed on my side and turned onto my back just in time to see him push his way through the bushes. I already mentioned that I was not in the mood for any of his shit. Now I really wasn't in the mood for this. With anger boiling, I lashed out at him.

I kicked him in the groin, hard. He didn't see or expect it coming, so he was caught completely off guard. If there was one thing that being in this business had taught me, it was that balls are sensitive; very sensitive.

He doubled over onto all fours and I kicked his face with the bottom of my shoe. He reeled from that and fell on his back. I got up and stomped on his groin as his hands flew to his face. I used my entire weight behind that stomp, causing even more pain to shoot through his body.

Balling up my fists, I launched into another facial attack. I was pissed, and I was letting him know it. I made contact with his nose, mouth, cheeks and eyes. You name it, I hit it. I made sure he was going to know he was in a fight.

After several hits to his face, I made one final strike to his groin and one to his diaphragm, taking the wind out of his lungs. I turned and ran away from him as fast as possible, just in case that he wasn't as hurt as I thought.

At this point, going home was not an option. It was Dan Potter that I needed to talk to first. He was the only one who was going to listen to the story I had to tell.

I ran as if hell itself was on my heels, arriving at the Potter's house within minutes. I pounded on the door while nursing a stitch in my side. Amy opened the door for me and was immediately shocked by what she saw. I asked if Dan was here, and she said he was in the living room.

I went in and sat down. I told him everything that had happened that afternoon. The more I talked, the redder his face got. When I told him that Rudy had told Mr. Tyson about me, he almost came unglued.

"Because he attacked me and tried to rape me. I kicked him in the groin and punched him in the face. Then I ran here to tell you."

Just as he was about to go out, Rudy stumbled in, and he didn't look good. I had done some real damage to the asshole.

He tried to lie about it. He told them he was attacked by several guys, but Dan and Amy didn't believe him for a second. Dan grabbed him by the back of the neck and practically threw him downstairs to the dungeon. I didn't see Rudy again until after Christmas, and even that was too soon for me. Apparently, Dan sent him to live with Dan's brother in Seattle. He returned a changed teen, but not much for the better.

Dan contacted Mr.'s Tyson and Martin and laid down the law with them about having me. I was only to please them if I wanted, and they were to pay me for my time. So, occasionally, I got called to the office for no reason, but the class didn't think so.

My thoughts returned to the present as the car pulled into the driveway with all boys present and accounted for. We walked inside for a good night's sleep. I was going to return to my house after school the next day. Hopefully, my bruises won't show.

Chapter 8
A Night With a New Client

This chapter takes Scott into a new realm of bondage. His new client never fucks him, but he never forgets what happens to him, and takes the lessons learned here into adulthood.

The next day at school, Trish and I talked about the money, and she convinced me to keep the 'extra' cash from the college party night. I asked her how Carry was doing, and she said she was getting better. We talked about some of our clients and actually laughed at some of their habits.

Just after lunch, I was called to the principal's office. Mr. Tyson needed some relief, apparently. I walked in and dropped my pants down. I held my breath as he fucked me over his desk again. He asked about the bruises, and I told him it was a client that got a little carried away. He let the matter drop. Mr. Flint smiled at me a little more than he had in the past, and I got an 'A' on his test that I don't think I deserved. Ahh, the perks of this job.

By the end of the day, I was just glad to go home and rest. The walk home was uneventful and I split from the others to go to my house. My younger twin brothers were already at home playing in their room. I slipped in unnoticed, as usual. As long as the soaps are on, nothing else mattered for my mother, especially Genital Hospital.

In point of fact, the rest of the week went by just as uneventful. By the weekend, I was getting pretty horny again, and looking for some action. The money I made was an added bonus. The sex was what was driving me now. But that weekend was pretty basic until Sunday night. Mr. Foster and Mr. Crandle were on the itinerary for Saturday, so some spankings and some bondage were to be expected. Both of them took it a little easier than normal, due to some vanishing bruises.

On that Sunday, though, there was a new client that had heard about us and Dan had me service him. When I arrived at the house, I took in the surroundings. It was a large two story, red brick house with white pillars in the front. The client opened the door after Dan rang the doorbell. He was your normal height and slender weight and very classy looking. The client asked if he could have me for the rest of the evening and Dan looked to me.

"It's okay with me, Steve," I answered back, using his code name. He nodded to me and reminded the client of the rules. The client accepted the terms and Dan left me with him. I followed him inside and we walked to a set of stairs going down.

I looked at the clock on the wall, and it was just after five o'clock. I was going to be with this man for the next six hours.

"Strip," he said once we got to the bottom of the stairs. We were standing in front of a closed door. I took off my clothes, and waited for further instructions. He was watching me the entire time I was stripping my clothes off. He took note of my bruises and asked me about them. I told him the same thing I told Mr. Tyson.

"If you will not say your code word, I'll give you double what you're due," he said.

"Let me see the money, Sir," I said with my arms folded over themselves. He pulled out a wad of cash and fanned it out. There were eight one hundred dollar bills in his hand. "Sorry to be so mistrusting, but that was how I got these bruises, Sir." I informed him.

"As long as it doesn't get too extreme, or more very bad bruises appear, then, yes, it's a deal." He smiled and we actually shook hands on it.

Before opening the door, he walked over and took out two leather wrist restraints from his pocket. He walked behind me and put the leather restraints on my wrists, and clipped them together. A leather strap was wrapped around my cock just behind its head and a leash was attached to it. He pulled on the leash. I didn't move, so he pulled a little harder to make me move. He led me into the room by the cockleash.

I continued to walk where he was leading, like I had another choice in the matter, until I was in the middle of the room. A cord hung from the middle of the room where he clipped the wrist restraints to, and then pulled on the other end to raise my wrists up. My arms were behind my back, so it caused me to bend over at the waist.

He grabbed a paddle and walked to my side. With one small swing to line it up with my ass, he then pulled back and landed the paddle on both my asscheeks.

"One, Sir," I counted. I squinted at the pain. I knew the drill and knew that I was to count them correctly.

"Three, Master." I began to slip into my world of make believe kingship, but I had to remain in the real world to continue the count. It was one of the most unique experiences. I was aware of the paddling, and able to count, but thinking about my own little world caused the pain to lessen to a minute degree. It was almost as if he was lovingly patting me on my butt.

I endured twelve more swats with the paddle, totaling fifteen. Another fifteen swats with a riding crop, and ten from a belt. He never hit the same spot twice in a row, and moved beyond just the scope of my asscheeks. Oh, my ass was inflamed, but his mastery of corporal punishment was astounding enough that it was a dull ache with no real damage to any part of my skin. Even by the end of the evening, the marks he made had vanished.

When he was finished with spanking and whipping my asscheeks, he moved onto something new. He lowered my arms back down and unclipped them from the cord. He also unclipped them from each other and pulled them around in front of my body. The restraints were reclipped together but clipped to a cord coming from the wall in front of me. Ankle restraints were then attached to two cords coming from behind me.

He made me lie on the floor of the dungeon, belly-up. Each of the cords went through individual pulleys. He pulled the pulley attached to my wrist restraints, but only far enough to make it tight. He had crossed the cords over each other to make sure I remained belly-up when he pulled the cords on the other end, and didn't flip over. When he did pull those, the restraints were pulled to the limits of my limbs and my body rose off the cold concrete floor.

The cord that had pulled my arms up earlier was then attached to the cockleash, and my middle was hoisted up by my cock. That did hurt. It was almost enough to cry, 'Steve', but I held my tongue. I guess I wanted to prove I could handle the pain after what had happened at the college party the previous weekend.

"Very good, Scott. Very good," he smiled as he walked past me. He ran his hands along the length of my body, starting at my feet and going up. His calloused hands fondled my balls briefly and they continued north. When he got to my face, he forced his forefinger past my lips and into my mouth. I sucked on his finger until he pulled it out.

He continued walking in the same direction, retrieved something off a table and returned to me. He brought with him a dog collar that he put around my neck. He then secured another cord to it and tied it to the one pulling on my cock. I now had to keep my head raised, or my cock suffered further.

He walked back to the same bench and returned with a tall, slender candle and a lighter. This was something else new to me. I had no idea what he was about to do with that thing, but I guessed that it couldn't be good. He lit the candle and let some of the wax build up at the tip. As he brought the candle closer, I thought he was going to burn me with it, but he tipped it as it hovered over my left nipple.

The intense heat from the wax sent shards of pain through my chest. I hissed through my teeth. Before I knew it, he moved on to the other nipple with a fresh supply of hot wax. Another wave of pain shot through my chest.

The amazing thing was that my cock was getting hard with each assault. Even though it was ensnared in its leather cuff, it began to thicken. I watched as he moved the candle down the middle of my body, leaving drops of wax in his wake. Each drop caused my cock to continue to firm up.

As he approached my crotch, I was waiting for him to drip some on my helpless cock, but he avoided it. Masterfully, he worked a ring of droplets around the base of my cock. The candle was raised a little as some wax was dripped onto each of my suspended nuts.

My cock was crying for relief, now, and I could do nothing to give it relief. It was just then that I noticed something else odd. He didn't have an erection. I was the only one being turned on by this.

With the candle burned half way down, he used a dull knife and scrapped away the cooled wax on my chest and torso. As the knife made its way down my body, the candle returned to my reddened nipples.

Fire erupted through my chest now. The pain was so intense, but my cock was never harder. Each nipple received another round of hot wax as he made his way back south. I watched in fascination as he breathed on my trapped erection. That alone sent me over the edge, and the orgasm was enough to cause me to pass out.

I didn't even know I had passed out until I woke to him sprinkling cool water on my face, and my butt was resting on the concrete again. My limbs were still tied to the cords, but they were loosened. He was in the middle of undoing the cords as I was waking up.

"Right now, you may call me Toby," said with a smile. "You had me a little worried, Scott."

"Your eyes rolled back in your head and you passed out. I guess the feelings were too much for you. Right now, why don't you take a break and rest? We can continue when you're ready."

"That's the first time a client has ever been concerned for me. All the others wouldn't really care if I had died, except the trouble of burying my body."

He stood me up as he rose. My legs were a little wobbly, and he had to steady me for a second.

"Thirsty?" He asked. I nodded. He got me a drink of water, and we talked a little about nothing at all. He was waiting for my strength to return before we continued.

"Master Toby 3;? I like that," he mused to himself for a second then turned back to me. "What is your question?"

"You are a quick study. Carl told me that. I will answer your question when the evening is over." And that was the end of that conversation.

He pulled me over to a pointed bench that was in the corner of the room. It looked like a slender model of Snoopy's doghouse. He linked my wrist restraints back together and to another cord suspended over the bench. He pulled on the cord until I was on my tip-toes.

He walked back to the table on the far side of the room and returned to insert a buttplug in my anus. No lubrication was needed as it wasn't all that big. He then hoisted me up even higher, causing me to leave the ground behind. He then put one of my legs over the bench. A cord was attached to each ankle restraint and pulled through two eyebolts in the floor.

They were pulled tight, stretching my body to its limits. In one motion, he lowered my body and kept the lower cords tight. The edge of the bench made contact with the buttplug first, driving it a little further inside my ass. My balls were next to touch the top edge. They were split apart by the bench. My taint was last to touch it. I tried to get a little more comfortable on that thing, but it was impossible.

My arms were loosed, but the cords attached to my ankle restraints were pulled tighter and tighter, causing pain between my legs. He stopped just as it was getting too much for me to handle.

He approached me with clamps designed for my nipples. I leaned back as he got closer. After the hot wax, they were really sensitive, and I knew this was going to hurt. They didn't go on my nipples. He placed them on my nuts. The opening inside the clamps was large enough to accommodate my almond-sized nuts.

It didn't really hurt when he clamped my testicles. It hurt when he placed weights on them. My cock was hardening again as the weights got heavier and heavier. I tried to raise myself up, but the cords holding my ankles in place prevented that.

The leather cuff that was around my cock was tied to the dog collar around my neck with a trucker's hitch. That pulled my head down and my cock stretched to its limit again as the cord was secured.

He returned to the table and brought back another candle. After lighting it, he placed the flame just under the big toe of my right foot. I squirmed to get away from the heat, but again, I couldn't go anywhere. I moved my foot out of the way, but he grabbed it and held it to administer the fire to it. He never made direct contact to my skin with the flame, but it felt like it. He put the flame under each of my toes, moving slowly from one to the next.

Finally, with that torment over, he moved the candle, now filled with a fresh supply of hot wax, to drip on my clamped nuts. I could see clearly as ever as the wax dripped from the reservoir onto my aching nuts. At the first touch of hot wax, fire surged through my body starting at the groin. I tried pulling up, but it only put more stress on my already stretched cock.

The more pain that my body was assimilating; the more my cock seemed to want. It was like it had a mind of its own. Master Toby seemed to know this as he leaned over and licked my cock from base to head and back down again. I felt myself go into orbit again, and top over the edge of another orgasm. This one was just as powerful as the last one, but I managed to stay conscious.

I shuddered as I came down from that overload. I was breathing heavily and sweating profusely. Even though I had remained conscious, the room seemed to spin out of control. I never knew it could be this powerful; this delicious. It was like another realm of my own. The intense pain brought on an even more intense orgasm.

When he released my arms, they flopped to my side. The clamps on my nuts were released next, followed by the cords to my ankles. All of the leather restraints stayed in place. The last thing to be freed was my cock.

After two very powerful orgasms, my cock looked as if it needed a holiday. It seemed to droop, heavily. During my time with different men that wanted to tie me up and pull on my cock, plus the ones that wanted to blow me, my cock had lengthened. Over the past six months, it had grown from just a scant three inches [7½ cm] to over five and a half [14 cm]. Even I was impressed with it. But now, it was nothing more than a useless tube of flesh with no life left in it.

"I know, Master, it's just that it has been stretched a lot lately," I said, almost in a whisper.

"You've got a cock that most boys would kill over. When you get grown, you'll be the envy of all the other men around you. Trust me."

"Yes, Master," I said, but I couldn't help but think that being small had its advantages also.

We climbed the stairs leading to the rest of the house. We got something to drink from the kitchen and took it outside to enjoy the cool night air. The only things I was wearing were the leather restraints, the strap around my cockhead, the dog collar, and the buttplug up my ass. As we walked outside, I noticed the clock read six thirty.

Usually, I would be upset that so little time had passed, but it didn't seem to matter to me at the time. I was just enjoying my time with Master Toby, and he seemed to want me to enjoy it. This was the most unusual client.

We stood on the back porch and watched the sun set over the ridge to the right of the yard. The night took over the rights to the sky as we stood there. The stars claimed their spots on the mat of black around them. It was a warmer night than most, especially for February. I got chills, but otherwise it was totally enjoyable.

I squatted down to sit on my heels. My useless dick was resting in the grass. Master Toby remained standing as both of us took in the night air. I remember thinking about how little anyone cared about me. And for the first time in a long time, I cried for no reason.

"What's wrong, Scott?" He was suddenly next to me with his arm around my shoulders.

I shook my head as I tried to clear my eyes, but the tears didn't stop. For some reason, they wouldn't stop. I stopped fighting the tears and let them run. He didn't talk again; he just let me get it out of my system.

I cried for what seemed like forever until the faucet was turned off. I wiped my face and looked at him as if to say, "What's next?" He smiled back at me.

With the one hand that was not around my shoulders, he reached over and grabbed my right wrist. He moved it over and clipped it to my left ankle restraint. He did the opposite to my other wrist. I was about to pull my butt up, but he stopped me by pushing on my shoulders. Instead, he pulled on the dog collar, forcing me to lie on my back with my feet and wrists in the air, and exposing my boy-sex to the night air.

He stood up and with one hand lifted me off the ground by the linked cuffs. I was carried like a suitcase to the far end of the yard. He hung me from a cord that was strung between two poles. It was obviously used as a clothes line at one time, but I doubt if he has hung any clothes from it in years.

"Don't 3; say 3; a 3; word," he whispered to me. I saw him do something to his feet then I felt the sting of his shoe against my asscheek. He would give me five swats on one cheek then turn me to deliver five to the other. Each cheek ended up getting thirty swats with the sole of his shoe.

As the swats ended, I figured we were headed back inside. I figured wrong. He procured a piece of twine from somewhere around one of the poles and tied it to the d-ring on the back of the dog collar. Another piece of twine appeared from the direction of the other pole. The second twine was wrapped around my small nutsack and pulled tight with another of those trucker's hitches. I was totally immobilized. My balls hurt immediately. He left my cock to last. That was tied back to the front of the dog collar.

When he was finished securing all my body parts to the clothesline, he didn't say a word to me. He just turned and walked back inside the house. The only things I could move were my fingers and toes. If I moved anything else, like trying to swing, my balls took the punishment.

He didn't return to me for what seemed like forever. As I saw him walking towards me, I was hoping that he was going to let me loose, but I saw the riding crop in his hands and that hope was gone. As soon as he got next to me, he put a ball gag in my mouth. That was when I knew that I was going to be out here for a long time.

He delivered ten lashes with the riding crop and disappeared back in the house. I was left alone again to the night. I was thankful for a nice clear sky. To occupy my time, I searched out the constellations.

When Master Toby returned again, he brought with him a small tub of what looked like water. The riding crop rained down fifteen more lashes upon my backside before he turned to the tub of liquid.

"Now, this is going to hurt, Scott. 'Steve' said I could do this, so hold on," he said to me with sort of a dispassionate voice. I shivered more from that voice than the cool air.

He reached over and played with my left nipple. I couldn't see what he was doing as my head was pulled towards the pole. After my nipple was hard, I felt excruciating pain in through that nipple. I screamed bloody hell into the ball gag. It felt like something had passed part way through it and stopped. He repeated the procedure with the other one. I screamed some more.

My chest hurt like it never had before. I felt something slowly run down my chest from my abused nipples. It was a thick liquid, and I knew it was blood. He used a cloth to wipe my chest off. The cloth was returned to the tub and the lid was closed.

He kissed me on the forehead, uttered, "Sorry for that," and left to return to the house. I had never experienced that much pain in my chest before. My cock had answered the call and was back to full attention again. It seems that pain is the one thing that was setting it off now. I wasn't sure I liked that idea.

I whimpered for a while until the pain subsided to a dull throbbing. My cock remained hard as a rock. Again I hung there for a while until he returned again with the crop. Twenty more lashes were delivered to my already sore ass. He checked on what he had done to my nipples and returned to the house.

The cool of the evening was beginning to turn cold as the night claimed the heat from the sun. Chill-bumps broke out across my body, and my nipples hardened to the degree as my cock. As Master Toby returned this time, he spoke after administering now twenty-five lashes from the crop.

"By now, you've probably figured out that I'm upping the count delivered from the crop each time I visit you. To let you know how much time will pass for you, each visit will be thirty minutes apart. Also, you will be here all night long."

"Don't bother complaining about it; I've already cleared it with 'Steve'. I will pay what I owe in the morning, and you will get your bonus as promised. See you in half an hour."

He returned again to the house. I did a quick calculation and determined that I had been 'hanging' here for two hours. Add that to the emotional breakdown I had with the time I saw on the clock, I figured it was about nine o'clock. I had at least another nine hours to hang out here like the linen.

True to his word, every half an hour, or so I'm guessing, he came out to me and administered the appropriate amount of strikes with the riding crop. He added five every time he walked out to me.

Once the count reached fifty, he checked on my nipples. When he checked, he also twisted them, but didn't touch them with his fingers. I screamed anew. "Sorry 'bout that," he said and disappeared back in the house for another half an hour.

When the count totaled sixty, he did stop adding to the total. For the rest of the night, I was to get sixty lashes every half an hour. After all, over one hundred lashes with that thing were more than anyone can handle.

I did manage to have more than one orgasm as I hung there, but they weren't nearly as powerful as the two I had earlier. Something was missing other than the hot candle wax. Some time in the night, I think I figured it out; I was missing the constant surge of pain. The slow, prodding pain he was causing me now wasn't enough to cause the explosion I felt before. I guess I now needed and craved the intense pain to make the orgasm worthwhile.

During a couple of times between his visits, I actually fell asleep, only to be woken up by swats on my reddened ass. It didn't seem to bother him that I could fall asleep while tied up like a trussed up turkey.

After the second time, though, he did tighten a few things. The cord tying my cock to the collar was tightened, as well as the twine attaching my balls to the pole. Renewed pain made it more difficult to fall asleep again. He knew that, of course.

On the visit one hour before sun up, after the sixty lashes, I felt him wrap a string around the line I was hanging from. The string had another hitch on it, and that made me worry. He tied one end of the string to the line and the other let hang down to my chest, but only momentarily. I saw him fiddle with what he had done to my nipples. I saw a set of two strings being pulled up from my chest and as he pulled them up by his finger, my nipples twisted and pulled towards the center of my chest. The free end of the hanging string was passed under the hoop he was holding, and then pulled straight back up to be tied off in the hitch.

It was pulled to the very limits of my endurance. It felt like my nipples were being torn from their areoles. He made sure I had to pull myself up a little before tying off the free end of the string. I looked down at what he had done, but I still couldn't see what he had done to me. I had a good idea, but I still wanted to see it, for some reason or another.

I didn't really know it at the time, but I only had another hour to hang there in torment. I struggled against each of the ropes and strings, trying to find some relief, but nothing was working.

Once again, half an hour later, he walked back out to deliver the second to last sixty whips of the crop. I could just make out the sun as it fought the night for its right to the sky. It seemed to be struggling as much as I was.

Just as the sun was filling the sky, Master Toby returned to me for the final time that day. The sixty lashes were dealt to my sore ass, and as he reached over to masturbate me, he twisted my little nipples even further, bringing me to another mind-blowing orgasm.

As tied up as I was, I couldn't get into the full stretch of the orgasm, but it was no less pleasurable. The dog collar was untied from the pole first and my cock second. Even as tired as I was, I raised my head up to see that he had put two needles through my nipples. Each pierced nipple was twisted by the needles and they were secured to the string hitched to the line above me. A small amount of blood had run down my chest and dried.

My balls were detached from their string, and immediately began to shrink up to my belly for warmth. I couldn't blame them. I was cold, also. The string connecting my nipples together was next to go and I let out a gasp as they returned to some sort of normal. When he let my legs go, they flopped to the ground as they had done earlier, and I swayed briefly while he untied my wrist restraints.

I walked back to the house on even more wobbly legs than before. I shivered the whole way back inside. Stepping into the house was like basking in the sun at Hawaii. I collapsed onto his corner sectional's seat. I looked up at him, he smiled down at me. He was looking a little tired, but not nearly as tired as I was.

"Oh, you keep those in for the rest of the day. Your nipples will be pierced for the rest of your life, then."

I nodded. I wasn't too sure I wanted that for my nipples, but I did have some time to decide before it became permanent.

Anyway, he handed me my clothes and I slowly got dressed (he had brought my clothes up from the basement dungeon). He handed me the eight one hundred dollar bills, and then I waited on the sofa for Dan. Dan arrived moments after I had sat back down.

We walked out to the car and climbed inside. As we made our way back to the Potter's house, it was in silence again, mainly because I was too tired to talk.

Chapter 9
Rudy's Big Mistake

Scott witnesses something that will haunt him forever.

As the car pulled into the driveway, the jostle woke me up from my ten minute nap. I ran inside immediately after Dan opened the car door for me. I took the stairs two at a time and zipped into the bathroom and shut the door. I had little time to get ready for school, and I knew it.

I took a few of my precious minutes to look at my nipples in the mirror. They didn't seem too worse for wear to me. I was thinking how I could keep the needles in them without drawing attention to my chest all day. I found a box of band-aides. A strip of band-aide for each side of the needles ought to hide those well enough.

I lowered my shirt back down and there was no indication anything was out of place. It would especially be hidden by a jacket. I lowered my pants down and sat for a piss. I then realized that the buttplug was still embedded in my ass. After finishing my piss, I decided to continue to wear it. Thank God we didn't have P.E. class until next year in middle school.

I went downstairs to join the others for breakfast. I scarfed down the cereal like it was my last meal, and then we headed to school. They asked me about last night, and I showed them the bonus I got. They were so jealous. I think I ended up making about three thousand dollars that weekend, including Master Toby's bonus.

We talked and laughed as we walked to school, as if nothing was ever odd about us. We were just ordinary ten year old boys, with an eight-year-old thrown in, on the way to elementary school. Even Randy and Roger seemed normal again.

We actually got started talking about each of our up coming birthdays. The funny part was that all of us were born between the beginning of March and the end of April. Weird. We talked about what each of us wanted and laughed at each other's answers.

That morning was as tedious as ever, more so for me. I think I slipped into a nap during my history class (boring anyways, but I usually manage to stay awake) with Mr. Flint. After his class, he held me back for a few seconds to see if something was wrong.

"I'm fine, Mr. Flint, just tired. I had a really long night last night," I said with another yawn.

"Well, you might want to cut down on your weekend activities, Scott. I can only keep you passing till you leave my class at the end of the year." I nodded at his appreciation as I turned to leave. I looked around for a second to make sure the room was vacant, and slid my hand up the inside of his thigh and brushed his cock through his pants. It twitched as I pulled it away. I love teasing them.

As math class was finishing up, Mr. Martin mouthed for me to stay after school. I shook my head, no. He flashed two one hundred dollar bills at me. I shook my head again, and told him, tomorrow. He was disappointed, but I just couldn't handle a session with him right then.

As English class was winding down, the speaker crackled to life, and I knew Mr. Tyson wanted to 'see' me. As the speaker asked if I was in the room, it confirmed my suspicions. I slumped my shoulders forward, and made my way to his office. When I walked passed the secretary's desk, I smiled and opened the door. I smiled again when I saw what was happening.

Trish was bent over the desk and she was taking Mr. Tyson up her ass very well. I closed the door quickly before anyone else saw what I saw and turned to the two lovers.

"Uuuhhh!" She said as Mr. Tyson made a particularly harsh thrust forward. "Yeah, I am, Scott. He really knows how to fuck a girl." She actually did look like she was enjoying the shagging.

"And a boy," I said with a smirk, and then I turned to Mr. Tyson. "Why did you call me if you're already getting a piece of ass from her?"

"I don't have to answer to you about that, Sir. My reasons are mine. But just for your information, I haven't had a minute's sleep for the past two days. I'm tired."

"That was all you had to say, Scotts," he shot back. It was kind of surreal having this conversation while he was fucking a friend of mine up her ass.

"I'm irritable right now, Mr. Tyson, and when it comes to what we do, I do have the final say, remember?"

"Go on, go back to class, Scotts. We'll see you tomorrow," he said with a wave of his hand. I took one last look at Trish (she was really getting plowed by him) and left the office. They stopped for the momentary time that the door was open, and then I heard them resume after I closed it.

I smiled to the secretary, who had to know what was going on, and went back to class. As I walked in, the teacher, Mrs. Stag (believe it or not), asked me why I was called to the office.

"He wanted to know if I was screwing his wife, or not," I said with a shrug. The entire class erupted in laughter. I really wasn't in the mood for 'twenty-questions' from her.

Mercifully, the bell rang before she could answer and pandemonium reigned as every kid left their classrooms. Randy and I made our way out of the school and walked home together. The other boys went their own ways home.

"To find out why I told Mr. Martin that I wasn't in the mood to do anything," I said with another yawn.

Another five minutes later, and we parted ways to go to our separate houses. I blitzed into my house, passing my mother watching Genital Hospital and my brothers playing in their room. I made one stop into the bathroom to check on my nipples and ass. My nipples were fine; I even tweaked the pins a little. My asscheeks were returning to their original colour of soft milk white. Master Toby was truly a master at handling that riding crop; every line he had made was gone by then.

Pulling up my pants, I made my way past my brothers, Terry and Thomas, to get to my room. Closing the door, I collapsed backward onto the bed. For some reason, I found myself thinking about 3;

"Rudy!" Roger yelled when he saw his eldest brother walk through the door. He got up and ran to his brother to hug him.

It was a couple of days past Christmas when Rudy reappeared in my life. Over the past month or two, I enjoyed the time around the Potter's without him. I even enjoyed the hard fucking I took from Randy's grandfather. During the Christmas break, we were busy with clients, believe it or not. I guess fucking doesn't take much of a holiday.

Mr. Crandle asked specifically for me on Christmas day, so I spent the day being tied up, whipped and fucked. It was his Christmas present to himself, I suppose. He certainly treated me like a new toy, that's for sure.

Anyway, when I saw Rudy walk through the door, I wasn't exactly thrilled to see him again. After all the last time I saw him he tried to rape me. When he saw me sitting in the living room, he walked over to me.

"I'm sorry, Scott," he said with his hand extended out to me. I looked at it with apprehension then I looked at his face. It was difficult to read. I wasn't sure if he was sincere or just putting on a very good act for his parents. I shook his hand anyway.

Rudy smiled and walked back to his room for the rest of the day. He didn't go out with us to clients' houses again. Dan said that he was not able to handle the work, whatever that meant. I mean, the rest of us have gone through just about the same thing he has. So what made the difference with him?

I even went down into the Potter's basement with Dan once. It was a hard, long three hours, but I dealt with it. And Dan was very well endowed, by the way. Randy wasn't kidding; it had to have been a foot [30 cm] long and as thick as my wrist. It was like having my arm shoved up my ass. It took me an entire week to recover from that little adventure.

Following Christmas break, school started back in session, unfortunately. I guess I didn't get my Christmas wish that it would burn to the ground. Mr. Tyson called me to the office during English class the first day back for a double fuck with him and Mr. Martin. It lasted past the last bell, so I was late leaving the school.

Instead of going my usual route, I decided to cut through the woods. It was cold and rainy, but only a sort of misty rain. I had my rain parka on, so I was pretty dry underneath, but sort of melancholy as well. I guess having my guts pumped with a ton of sperm and having it rain at the same time does that to me.

Anyway, enough conjecture. As I was making my way through the wood, I reached a very small clearing where there is almost no grass or shrubs from too many people being here over the years. It was a sort of favorite hang out with most elementary school kids. But since it was raining, no one should have been there.

I heard a noise as I was reaching the clearing that made me stop before getting into it. I got off the path and inched my way around it. What I saw was something that I will never forget.

Rudy was tied facing a tree by his arms with his torso on the ground. His legs were tied to two bare roots and split apart. It appeared that he was being tied by the shoe laces. His clothes were ripped off him and scattered around the clearing. Four guys were circling him, jeering at him. They kicked his side, ass, legs, and arms. One of them even made contact with his balls under his body. Rudy screamed when that happened.

"That'll teach you, faggot," that one said to him. All four of them looked to be about seventeen or eighteen years old.

"He really did want you to fuck him, Greg?" Another asked the one who had just kicked him in the nuts.

"Yeah, he did, the little faggot," Greg answered him. "I guess he won't be doing that again, huh?" The other three guffawed at his little joke.

I watched as the four teenagers continued to beat him and taunt him mercilessly. At one point, Greg, who seemed to be the ringleader of the group, opened his fly and shoved his dick up Rudy's well-laid ass.

"Jesus, this kid's wider than a fucking subway tunnel. Who you been fucking, faggot?" When Rudy declined to answer, he fucked him harder and pulled his head back by his hair. The look on Rudy's face told the whole story; he was hurt. "Huh? Who you been fucking, faggot?" Greg repeated, taunting him.

While Greg was fucking the boy up the ass, his friends either pulled out their cocks, or kicked Rudy's body somewhere. The preteen was in some severe pain, and not the pleasurable kind. Rudy was not enjoying this, and I could tell.

Finally, Greg shot his load up Rudy's ass, and pulled his cock out for one of his friends to have their turn. A kid named Barry was next, and this kid was hung. His cock seemed to reach to his knees. Probably adult professional prostitutes would complain about getting fucked by him. I remember thinking that Rudy was not going to live through that one. As the behemoth shoved his cock up the boy's backside, Rudy screamed like hell.

"Someone shut him up," Barry suggested. "Please," he added as a joke. The one that was named Mike circled around and grabbed Rudy by the hair, lifting his head up to his crotch. Just before he fed his moderately sized cock to Rudy's mouth, he warned him.

"If you bite me, you'll be eating applesauce for the rest of you life," Mike warned him. Rudy gagged as Mike forced it down his throat.

During this time, the rain seemed to get heavier and heavier. This made things colder, due to the time of the year. I was even getting colder just sitting there watching this scene, or maybe it was the scene itself. Either way, I shivered as I watched.

As the rain fell thicker, the highschoolers didn't let up on Rudy's body. They seemed determined to pummel him in every way possible. As Greg recovered, he got up and walked back over to him. When Barry finished shooting his seed up Rudy's fuckshoot, Greg took his belt from his pants and brought it down on Rudy's back, buckle first. He lashed the boy's side, back and butt in a criss-cross pattern. I could hear Rudy cry out at each and every lash of the belt.

At one point, I heard a sickening crack when the belt made contact with Rudy's side. I knew a rib was broken. That didn't even slow him down. He used his entire arm to put his strength into every swing.

"You'd better get yours while you can, Karl," Barry warned the fourth boy, "it looks like Greg's gonna kill the kid."

Karl nodded and walked behind Rudy. He grabbed his hips and pulled him towards his stiff cock. Karl's dick slipped inside Rudy with no resistance whatsoever. I'm sure that was even more humiliating to Rudy. Taking a teenage cock without any resistance from his sphincter muscle put insult to injury.

All the while that Karl was feeding his cock to Rudy's loose asshole, Greg continued to whip his back and sides. I don't know how many times that belt buckle made contact with Rudy's side, but it was enough to turn his skin black. Finally, Greg tired and stopped his beating.

Mike shot his load down Rudy's gullet, followed by Karl doing the same in his bowels. Barry was getting hard again, as was Greg. Actually, Greg never softened after he came. Barry returned to the boy's already fucked asshole, while Greg took over at his mouth. But this time, Barry untied Rudy's legs and flipped him over. He held on to Rudy's ankles as he drove his cock back up inside him. Greg shoved his dick down his throat while facing away from Barry.

I looked down at the ground underneath Rudy, and some red was running with the water away from the scene. It was coming from Rudy's asshole. Barry didn't care that the boy was bleeding, he just wanted another fuck. Greg held onto Rudy's head by his hair as he face-fucked his mouth. If Rudy made any movements or sounds during this time, I didn't see or hear them. Also, each time Greg withdrew from Rudy's mouth, he slapped or punched the boy's face as hard as he could.

When the youths were finished with each of Rudy's holes, Greg stood up and stomped on Rudy's cock and balls a couple of times. Rudy must have been unconscious because he didn't move a muscle while the teenager mashed his crotch into a bloody pulp. Mike pulled out a knife and opened the blade. He flipped Rudy back over and straddled his back while he carved something into the boy's skin. The four of them laughed at what was written. Before they gathered their clothes and walked off, both Greg and Karl kicked each of Rudy's arms hard enough that I heard two more distinctive cracks. Rudy didn't make a sound.

Thankfully for me, they walked in the opposite direction of where I was sitting. After a few agonizing minutes of waiting to see if they would return, I made my way over to Rudy's prone body. Rudy was not moving at all. Fearing that he was dead, I checked his neck for a pulse (I saw it in a movie once). It was there.

He looked like he was dead, though. The half of his face I could see was swollen and I saw that a few of his teeth were missing. The carving on his back read, "THE FAGGOT ENJOYED IT." Near black blood ran from each wound and down his back, mixing with the rain. Both of his arms hung at unnatural angles from their bindings, and his legs didn't look right either. Blood was flowing a lot from his abused asshole as well. That picture will be with me till I die.

I snapped out of it as I realized he needed help, and fast. I knew better than to move him, so I ran like hell to the Potter's house.

When I arrived, I didn't bother knocking. Dan was getting his two younger sons ready for the evening when I burst through the door. I pantingly told Dan the short version of the story. I don't think I've seen that look on him before. It was a mixture of worry and anger. We headed back out of the house a lightning speed. Amy called 911 as we were leaving.

When Dan and I arrived at the clearing, Rudy's body looked sickeningly white. It was as if all the blood had drain out of him. Dan went to move his eldest son and I stopped him.

"He might be hurt inside, Dan," I calmly reasoned with him. "We'd better not move him till the ambulance gets here."

He saw the logic of my reasoning, and didn't move the boy. He just untied his hands from the tree. Rudy still was not moving.

Rudy and I never got along with each other, and I know he tried to rape me, but I never wanted this to happen to him. Randy arrived shortly afterwards. When he saw Rudy lying on the ground like that, he turned and threw up. I held onto him until he finished.

The ambulance arrived within a few minutes later, and took Rudy to the hospital. The cops arrived at the hospital shortly afterwards to take statements. I told them everything I saw and did from the time that I left the school.

Rudy went into surgery immediately upon arriving at the hospital. After several hours of questions from the cops, all we could do was wait. I called my parents to tell them I would be staying with the Potters for the night. They didn't care.

After six hours of surgery, a doctor walked out and told Dan that even though there was a lot of damage done to Rudy, his chances were good that he would make it. He was being taken up to the ICU ward while they were speaking. Dan and Amy thanked the doctor and went upstairs to see their son. The rest of us followed at a distance.

Upon arriving at Rudy's room, we went to his bedside, but couldn't touch him through the curtain. Dan and Amy cried on each other's shoulders while Randy and Roger stood just looking at their brother in the bed. Rudy lay in the bed with bandages around his face and head. His whole body looked mangled. I couldn't take looking at him anymore, and left the room. I couldn't believe I had witnessed something so brutal.

Dan came out to check on me and we talked. I told him I was sorry for not stopping it, and he told me that he didn't blame me for what happened. He was glad I was able to do what I did.

The ensuing investigation brought the four youths to justice. There was more than just my testimony that convicted them. More than enough evidence was at the scene to send them to prison. There was never a trial, due to them plea bargaining. Greg was imprisoned for life without parole. The other three got twenty-five years. Imagine being seventeen or eighteen and spending your entire twenties and thirties in prison, not to mention your whole life. I'm sure they would spend a long time evading the same thing they had done to Rudy.

I heard that Greg was stabbed in the shower not a year later. Karl lasted another year, and Mike was killed shortly after that in a prison riot. Barry was the only one to have survived any length of time behind bars. The last I heard was that he was still surviving.

As for us, we visited Rudy in the hospital over the next few weeks. He regained consciousness after a week, and was making a marked improvement toward making a full recovery. We didn't 'work' for two weeks after the day of the attack, for two reasons. One, cops were crawling all over the place asking questions. Two, none, and I mean none, of us wanted to work, even Dan wasn't in the mood.

Rudy was in the hospital for another month before being released. The only thing that you could see was that his nose was crooked. When he took his shirt off, you could see the letters that were carved into his back, though. He definitely would never work with us again.

In fact, he didn't stay at the Potter's house very long either. Two weeks after he got out of the hospital, Dan sent him to live with a relative of Amy's.

Randy, Roger and I started back to work first, and then Mickey joined us. Red and Jake were sort of in and out for a while until the weekend before that college party.

That thought was still on my mind as I was waking up the next day, still in the clothes I wore to school the day before. I smiled at that and made my way to the bathroom for my morning piss and shower.

I pulled my shirt off and noticed the band-aides were still covering the needles in my nipples. After removing the strips, I tweaked the pins a little, sending a sliver of pain through my chest. It was also a little erotic at having them pierced. I took a closer look at them in the mirror. Master Toby knew exactly what he was doing.

My nipples were pierced right through the dead center. I smiled at the night's memory of being outdoors, naked and tied to a clothesline. My ass was a little sore from the whipping, but no marks were left on my skin, another sign of his mastery. I thought about taking the buttplug out, after all it had been inside me for over a day, but decided to leave it in. If I needed to use the bathroom, I could take it out and replace it after finishing.

I took a shower, minding the needles, finished, dressed and got ready for school.

Chapter 10
Suspended Time

Scott and Randy get suspended after an incident at school and have to spend their time in chastity bags to prevent any playing. Afterward, things get a little hairy for Scott as he sees the darker side of his friend.

I met up with Roger and Randy on the way to school, and we talked about the weekend a little. I kept it to myself about thinking about Rudy; it was still a little painful for all of us to talk about. It had been almost two months since he was sent away, and we still didn't really want to talk about it.

As I was in the line for lunch, and talking to Trish, one of my teachers found me and said that the principal wanted to 'see' me. I looked at Trish, and she shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

I walked in the principal's office, past the secretary's desk, who was gone to lunch as well, and opened the door to Mr. Tyson's office. He was sitting at his desk with his cock out, and stroking it. I didn't bother with the usual banter; I just closed the door and walked around the desk.

I pulled my pants down and leaned over the edge, waiting for him to spear me. He pulled the shitcork out of my asshole, and replaced it with his staff. I closed my eyes as the thick piece of meat sliced into me one more time. He pulled my arms up across the desk and held them with one hand at my wrists. It was his favorite thing to do when fucking one of us kids. The other was rubbing up and down my side.

He made contact with my nipple and felt the needle it was pierced with. He immediately stopped his cock half way inside me at its thickest point.

"A client pierced my nipples Sunday night. They're sore, so don't do anything with them, please."

That was nothing more than an invitation to him. He reached under my shirt and felt the nipple closest to his hand; the right one. With just his thumb and forefinger, he twisted the needle around, winding up my tit as if it were a propeller. I winced at the renewed pain in my chest.

"Please, stop, Mr. Tyson," I asked him. He let go of the needle and my tit returned to normal. He did the same thing to the left nipple until I asked him to stop. His cock seemed to grow (if that were possible) larger as he played with my nips.

My asshole clenched around his cock tighter each time he would twist one of them. At one point, he pulled me up into a standing position, and pulled my shirt over my head. He didn't remove my shirt from my wrists, but used it as a loose tie to bind my wrists together over my head. He pulled my shirt-bound wrists back behind his head.

Then with a real sadistic urge, he stood up with his cock still buried in my ass. I held onto his neck as he stood up. He got a good look at me in his full length mirror opposite his desk. Now with both hands available to him my nipples received double the torture from his rough hands. My feet weren't even touching the ground now as we stood there, with me impaled on his cock.

He pulled on the needles first, stretching my tits to their full endurance, and then letting them pop back to my chest. I didn't scream, but I wanted to. The next thing he did was return to the winding gig. I squirmed against his body while sitting on his cock with each twist and turn of the needles.

I was also getting turned on again by the pain of it. Oh, I complained, but my cock stiffened and remained hard the rest of the time. He noticed this, of course, and pointed it out to me.

"So, the little slut likes the pain, huh?" He razzed. I shook my head, no, but he saw through that and gave a shove of his hips into my ass. "Don't lie to me, boy," he hissed in my ear. "You like this, and you know it." I nodded meekly.

I had come to enjoy the pain others were giving me. I had become like Mickey and Red. In just over six months, I had gone from a nice, quiet, shy kid to a pain-slut. I guessed that from here, it was all down hill. There was nothing else that was going to make me cum, but extreme, sharp pain. This was just before my eleventh birthday, also. As this realization hit me, I cried.

It wasn't a hard cry, just two tears fell for my lost innocence. My life would never be the same again, and it hasn't.

Anyway, back to the principal's office, with that fact now in hand, he shoved his dick even harder up my ass. My nipples were pulled, twisted, corkscrewed, and mauled the rest of the visit to his office. He came just as I did. He had to put his hand over my mouth before I let the whole world know about this.

We collapsed in a heap next to the mirror. I recovered first, and stood up. His cum was running down my legs (a sensation I was used to by now) and my skin around my areoles was pink from his abusing my nipples. I pulled my shirt back down and walked as best as I could to his desk to retrieve my buttplug. After inserting it back up my ass, I pulled my pants up, took my money out of his desk, and walked out of the office.

My knees were a little weak, but weathered the fuck pretty well. I got to the boy's bathroom and cleaned myself up in the toilet. I heard the door to the room open and someone walk in. I froze.

"Yeah, I'm in here, Rand," I said from behind the locked door. He waited till I was finished and replaced the buttplug again. I walked out of the stall to find him leaning against one of the sinks.

"Because I just realized that I'm enjoying the pain too much. I've become Mickey."

"No, I like the pain, not just a cock up my ass. It's the pain I like, man," I tried to explain to him.

"Very funny," I retorted with a smirk. Turning serious, I said, "I was thinking about Rudy last night."

He turned serious also. "I think about him all the time, Scott. I keep wondering if there was something I could have done if I were there."

"You? What if I had done something instead of just hiding in the damn bushes like a coward?!"

"Then I would have lost a best friend as well as a brother," he said in a plain tone of voice. We looked at each other for about half a second, and then hugged like brothers.

"What's going on, here?" A voice said at the outer door. We turned to see another fifth grader looking at us.

"You two faggots or something?" He asked. We were on him in a split second, beating the shit out of him. He didn't stand a chance. Both Randy and I knew how to incapacitate someone.

A teacher from another class heard the scuffle and came to investigate. She caught us pummeling the kid into unconsciousness. We didn't see her until she grabbed both of our arms and yanked us off him. The kid wasn't moving when I looked back at him. Both Randy and I got real scared at that.

She practically threw us against the door as she checked on the boy. He was alive. She sent Randy to the office to get the principal and the nurse. Randy returned with Mr. Tyson and Ms. Phelps in-tow within a few minutes. I just stood there like an idiot the entire time he was gone.

"What happened?" Mr. Tyson asked as Ms. Phelps attended to the kid. Randy and I shrugged our shoulders. The teacher told him what she saw and he turned on us.

Randy and I knew we were in for it. He marched us up to his office and slammed the door closed once we entered.

"Explain yourselves, boys," he said as he was trying to lose control of his temper.

I took the lead, knowing Mr. Tyson personally, and explained the truth to him. I even told him how we were feeling as the kid called us faggots, and why we were feeling that way.

"We're not faggots, Sir," I said, "and we hate being called that. Plus having to deal with what happened to Randy's brother didn't help the matter. The asshole deserved what he got."

"And you're gonna get what you deserve, Scotts," he said. "Both of you are suspended for the rest of this week, and all of next week. And that starts right now. But both of you will return to the school this afternoon, off the clock, so to speak."

I knew what he meant, and so did Randy. Mr. Tyson and Mr. Martin were going to have us and get us for free as part of our punishment.

We left the office holding our punishment slips, feeling dejected. We made our way off campus towards our respective houses. We got to the empty Potter's house as both adults were at work. We got something to eat and headed to Randy's room.

I undressed and lay down on Randy's bed while he was taking a piss. The buttplug was still in its place and so were the needles in my tits. I was resting with my hands behind my head as Randy reentered the room. He saw my chest and stopped.

"Upside down, hogtied, and hanging from the outside clothesline. My balls were tied to the pole under me, and my head to the pole above me with a dog collar. My cock was also tied to the dog collar with a trucker's hitch."

"Me too. He never fucked me, but brought me to two fantastic orgasms. Then he tied me to the line outside and pierced my nipples with the needles. After a while, he tied those to the clothesline also."

"Ow," he said while rubbing his own chest. I smiled at his acknowledgement. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at my pierced buds. He flicked the left needle, sending another unusual sensation through my chest. But it did start to turn me on again.

I raised my chest up and moaned a little as he did it again to the same nipple. I kept my hands where they were and let him play with them as much as he wanted and however he wanted. My cock got harder as he played with the needles. I squirmed around on his bed under his ministrations.

He reached down and ensnared my balls in the loop of his right thumb and forefinger. Closing the other fingers around them he squeezed, hard. I moaned and squirmed some more, but kept my hands where they were. My cock hardened even more as my balls were squeezed like lemons to make lemonade.

"Harder," I whispered. He obliged. My nuts felt like they were in a vice. His left hand was still twisting and pulling on the needles in my chest buds. "Breathe on my cock," I whispered again. When his moist breath hit my cockhead, I exploded through an orgasm that left me shaken and spent.

He released my nuts and nipples to return to their original places and I came down from Neverland. I just wished that I didn't have to grow up.

"You do enjoy the pain, Scott." He was definitely enjoying this new twist in our lives.

"Just as much as you enjoy giving it," I said, nodding towards his erection. Since turnabout is fair play, I rolled over to allow him access to my backdoor. I knew he liked that most about me. My wounds had healed and only a small bruise was left from the college party.

He pulled the buttplug out with a 'pop'. He slipped his four-incher [10 cm] inside me quite easily. He even commented on how wide I was getting.

"Well, what do you expect with a principal and math teacher that's hung like polar bears," I shot back.

"If I can?" He said with a little force and he shoved his dick into me with all the strength he could muster. I felt him enter, but no pain, of course. He was still too small to cause me any pain.

"Why, you," he said and dismounted me. He left the room in a hurry. For a second, I thought he was mad, but when I heard him on the stairs coming back up, I knew he was just getting something from downstairs.

I didn't bother turning around to look what he brought, so when I felt something large enter my asshole, it was a shock. I turned to look at had just plowed into me, and it was a fake cock, or dildo. But this one was hollow inside to allow his cock to slip in the hole. He tied two straps from the dildo around his waist, and fucked me with that thing while his cock was inside it.

His knees were planted inside of my legs and he forced them open. Randy fell onto my back, forcing a little air out of my lungs, and slipped his hands and arms under me. He started playing with the needles again while he fucked me with the strap-on.

"Call me, 'pathetic', bitch? This outta show you," and shoved it all the way inside me with a thrust of his hips. My ass now felt like it was on fire. The dildo was thicker than any cock I had taken so far, even my principal's. I squirmed trying to get away from the invader, but Randy held me in place by the needles in my tits.

"Oh, no. You're not going anywhere, bitch, till I cum," he said sadistically. He was almost turning into a maniac.

"Is 3; that 3; all 3; you 3; got 3;?" I chided between each of his thrusts. "Be 3; cause 3; I 3; can 3; bare 3; ly 3; feel 3; it." He stopped fucking me in mid thrust to look down at me. I smiled back up at him.

Now I made him really mad. He reared back up and sat on his heels with the fake cock still embedded inside me. Then I felt the swat. One after another, he brought his hand down on the globes of my ass. I just laid there and took them. Let him tire himself out. But after about thirty slaps, he wasn't showing signs of slowing down. After fifty or so, he did one last hard slap on my very red ass and collapsed back down on me.

His hands went straight back to the needles piercing my budding nipples and resumed playing with them. The fucking continued and my back hole was reamed out larger than it ever had been. I doubted if it would ever return to an even semi-normal size.

Finally, the reaming stopped as he made a final lunge of his hips and drove the fake cock to its furthest point inside me, cumming at the same time. He lay there on my back for a few minutes to recover. I welcomed the closeness of our bodies.

"I should be asking you that question," he said into my back and we both laughed. "How're your nips?"

We cleaned up everything and he returned the dildo to the basement where he got it. We laid in bed looking up at the ceiling for a few minutes.

"Let's work on our tan," I suggested. He agreed and we went outside for some sun. It was partly cloudy, so the sunshine was catch-as-catch-can.

We explained what happened at school earlier and our suspension. He was a little upset, understandable, but didn't discipline either one of us. After Rudy, he didn't discipline Randy or Roger again. He just didn't have the heart, I guess.

I was allowed to come over to the Potter's house so that I wouldn't have to tell my parents about the suspension. Randy and I played normal kids games during the daytime, with no work at night. We couldn't touch each other the entire suspension. To make sure that we couldn't, he put chastity bags on both of our cock and balls. It was a way to punish me and Randy without discipline. No sex whatsoever for two weeks. Not even masturbation was allowed. Talk about frustrating.

On the last day of our suspension, I went to Randy's house, as normal. When I walked in and closed the door, Randy pushed me from behind onto the floor. He wrestled with me till he had both my arms pulled behind my back. A leather strap was used around my biceps to tie my arms behind me. Two more straps were used to tie each of my wrists to the opposite elbows. He put the dog collar around my neck and fastened a leash to the d-ring in the back. While sitting on my back, he pulled my socks and shoes off my feet. My pants and underpants were yanked down and off my legs. He didn't bother with my shirt until later.

With the leash on the collar, he tried to pull me towards the basement, but I wasn't moving. He tried another tactic. He pulled the leash back and wound it around my crossed forearms tightly. He then picked me up like a suitcase, at least he tried. He did get me closer to the doorway, though, but I wasn't helping him at all.

"You're only making this harder on yourself, Bitch!" He said in his authoritative mode.

"Okay, you wanna do this the hard way. Fine." With that, he went downstairs and came back with Dan's flat paddle. Sitting on my bare legs, he swung the paddle sideways slapping it against each of my asscheeks. One swing to my left cheek, then the other to my right, alternating each time he swung downward.

The first twenty or so swats were not much to me. After that, it started to sting, then hurt, then burn until I gave in. He had reached a hundred when that point was reached.

"'Bout damn time," he said and laid the paddle down next to me. Carrying me like a heavy suitcase again, he dragged me down the stairs and into the torture room of the Potters'.

The wire in the middle was threaded through the d-ring on the dog collar and attached to both layers of the leather strap binding my biceps together. He hoisted me up to a kneeling position. He produced a key and removed our chastity bags from each of our groins before continuing. He pulled my nuts through my legs behind me and put them between two square pieces of plastic. Screws were put into two holes closest to my body and wing nuts were used to secure them together. Two more screws were put into the farther holes and wing nuts were put them as well. As he tightened those two wing nuts, the plastic began to squeeze my nuts like they were grapes in a wine press.

I screamed when I couldn't take it anymore, and he stopped tightening the wing nuts. He reached around and felt my hard cock, just to check. He put into place two bars facing out on the screws closest to my body and then walked around in front of me. My legs were brought together and tied at the knees and ankles, and he lifted me up by the wire. Since the wire went through the d-ring of the collar, my head was forced up as he pulled me up. I was lifted up high enough to get my feet off the ground.

I now found out why the bars were placed on the nut-squeezer. If I straightened my legs at all, the bars pulled my nuts back. So now my legs were my enemy. I had to keep them folded up in order to keep from torturing my balls. My cock remained as hard as ever while Randy was setting this all up.

"Now, for some more new things," he said with a gleam in his eye. He brought over from the table two earrings. He pulled the needle out of my left nipple, something I hadn't done yet to either nipple, and inserted an earring. He repeated the procedure with the right nipple. A small stick was inserted through my left nipple ring and twisted till I screamed again. He did the same with the right one. Each twist left my nipples red around the areoles, but he didn't stop with just one twist.

He twisted the rings in the other direction next until a scream escaped. One nipple at a time was twisted, going in opposite directions each time. The pain was excruciating, and my cock was loving it, but I couldn't cum.

"IT'S MASTER TO YOU, BITCH!" He screamed at me, and grabbed both of my nipples at their source and twisted hard. Real hard. I screamed in pain again.

"No," was all he said and walked to the wall and back with the paddle. It was swung against my ass, but hit the squeezer as well. Renewed screams erupted from my throat. He laid the paddle against my asscheeks a total of ten more times before stopping.

"Yes, Master," I said a little louder. He gave the squeezer a tap with the paddle before returning it to its rightful place on the wall.

He returned to stand in front of me with a small leather strap. He wrapped this around the head of my cock, leaving a short piece hanging loose. A cord was lassoed through that piece and pulled up to the dog collar, back down and tied off with another trucker's hitch. It stretched my cock to its limits, but still I could not cum. I needed him to stimulate my cock in someway.

Weights were added to my nipplerings, pulling them downward. A blindfold was placed over my eyes and a ball gag was inserted in my mouth.

"I'll just leave you for a while, Bitch, but I'll be back in a while to check on you. Don't go anywhere, okay?" He said and with another pat to the ball-squeezer, he left the room and headed upstairs.

I hung in the room for god knows how long, suffering. Each time I relaxed my legs a little, my balls suffered immense pain. My cock was strained in its chokehold strap as well. My whole groin was in intense pain again. The longer I hung there, the more my nipples hurt, also.

My stomach muscles began to really hurt as they were forced to keep my legs from hurting my nuts. Just as I thought I could not keep them up any longer, I heard the door open and Randy walk down the stairs.

"So, how's the bitch doing, hmm?" He said as he walked behind me. He gave the ball-squeezer a flick and tugged on the cord attached to my cock. "Looks like Bitch is still enjoying himself."

I felt him reach up and undo the ball gag from behind my head and removed it from my mouth as well as the blindfold over my eyes. He wanted to look at me in the eye.

"Complain, complain, and complain. That's all I get from you, Bitch. It seemed to me that you enjoy getting tied up and tortured. I give you that, and you still complain. Okay, I'll remove the bars from the squeezer, but not the squeezer from your balls."

He did just that, and my legs were able to rest for the first time without hurting my balls. He didn't stop there, though. Two strings were tied to the screws on the far side of the ball-squeezer and pulled down to the eyebolt in the floor. With another one of those trucker's hitches, my squeezed balls were pulled their limits toward the floor. He pulled until I screamed again, then tied off the end to the hitch.

The screws dug into my skin a little as they were right next to my legs, but that was the least of my worries.

"Yes, Master, thank you for helping my legs," still gritting my teeth at the pain in my nuts.

"Yes, Master, and for helping my nuts," I said. My nuts hadn't gotten any help from him.

"Just for that, you're gonna get twenty lashes, Bitch," he said and walked over to the whip hanging on the wall.

The whip first landed across my chest just below my left nipple, leaving a red stripe about three inches long. I screamed. The next one hit the nipple ring above that stripe. Again I screamed. The next ones landed near or on the right nipple. He moved down my body and the seventh one landed right on the stalk of my dick. I screamed like hell.

The next two lanced my thighs, leaving two long red marks running down my legs. The next two caught each of the globes of my ass. The third one after that made contact with my stretched, tortured, and abused nuts. It didn't leave any marks as they were guarded by the squeezer, but the lash made it hurt. He brought one down across the soles of my feet, then the back of my knees. The next ones attacked my reddened ass again. Two were meant to line my lower back, and he reserved the final two for hitting my nipples again.

One last one struck my cock right beside the one he did earlier. Each crack of the whip brought a fresh round of screams from me. He waited for me to stop screaming before the next one hit. Patient little shit, I'll give him that.

"That last one was for the begging I had to listen to at the beginning. Now, Bitch, I hope you've learned your lesson," he said looking into my eyes.

"Very good, Bitch. Well, that wraps up this session. I'll be back later. Enjoy." With that said, he replaced the ball gag and blindfold and walked back upstairs, leaving me in torment.

Every part of my body now hurt. My groin was tasting pain like it had never known. My ass was on fire from both the paddlings earlier and the whippings now. It felt like he had made an 'x' on each buttcheek. I knew my body was lined with red welts from that whip.

My main problem was the inability to cum. My cock was still rock-hard in its captivity, but an orgasm was impossible no matter what I did. I even tried pulling on it, and that did nothing but make it hurt worse.

Some time later, I heard something going on upstairs but I couldn't make out any distinct sounds. The door to the basement was opened and footsteps followed down.

Without any further warning, two of them took to paddling and whipping me with the crop. Someone else shoved either a dildo or vibrator up my ass and fucked me with it non-stop. Mr. Tyson twisted my nipples past the time I began screaming.

It was then that I felt hot breath on my cock and fireworks erupted through my brain. I came not once or twice, but three times before I blacked out.

Chapter 11
A Screeching Halt

This chapter has Scott's professional career come to a violent end.

Waking up is always difficult for me, but when I woke up from what had just happened, I could have sworn I was dead. The only thing that told me different was that everything hurt.

"I guess the short version will have to do," he said, and I opened my eyes to see not only Randy, but the others with Dan and Amy, also. Mr. Tyson was gone. "You blacked out, Scott."

"I guess from now on you'll have to be limited to two orgasms at time," Dan commented. I smiled and the others laughed. "Let's leave the two alone for a while to talk." Everyone left the room. Only Amy returned to give me some juice a few minutes later.

"Sorry I was so rough on you," he said. "I don't know what came over me. It was like I was possessed or something."

"Don't worry about it," I told him and tried to move again. Pain in my nuts stopped that real quick.

"Well, you're getting another two weeks. And no one at the school can touch you, either."

I saw the logic of his argument, and curled back into a ball. This was going to take some time to recover from. I felt my nuts, and upon just touching them, I was in pain.

Randy left me alone in the room as Dan took the others to work. After they left, I felt like I needed a pee. As I moved slowly to the bathroom, Randy was walking back up the stairs.

"Punishment. I'm not allowed to work for the next two weeks, either." We looked at each other and laughed a little. The laugh hurt, but it was worth it.

He helped me to the bathroom and back to his room for more rest. The rest of the night and weekend was built around me resting and gathering back my strength again. My strength returned and the pains went away. My body healed itself and by Sunday morning, I was moving around a lot better.

Late that afternoon, we were laying out getting some sun and I just got to thinking about the fact that I was spending more and more time at the Potters' house than my own. Even during the week, it was more common to find me at Randy's house than at home. I don't know what made me think about it, but I did.

Just as Amy was preparing supper for us, I decided to head home and check in. She asked if I was alright, and I told her I felt a lot better. I grabbed my stuff and headed to my house. When I walked in, I saw my parents in the living room, yelling at each other, as normal, and my brothers in their room pretending not to hear.

"Or lack of it," Terry added. I smiled at them and made my way to my room. I took off my shirt and pants and got ready to get in bed when the door opened. It was Terry.

I was taken by surprise, but only for a second. I ran and slammed the door closed after him.

"Whatever. Look, Terry, don't say anything to anyone, okay? Especially mom and dad; they wouldn't understand."

I sighed and turned towards him. He ran his finger under my left nipple ring. I shuddered at the gentle touch of his youthful finger.

"Nothing, Terry, you just gave me the chills, that's all." I then took a good look at my younger brother. So innocent. Terry was the dreamer of the two twins. Thomas was the more logical one, but Terry was the more innocent one of the two. I envied him his innocence; it was something I'll never have again.

As I thought about that, a tear ran down my cheek and off my chin. I wiped it away before he could see it.

"When you get older, maybe," I said trying to keep him from finding out about my tears. "Remember; don't say anything, Terry, not even to Thomas, okay?"

He nodded that he understood and turned to leave the room. He stopped at the door and turned to look at me.

"I've missed you around here, Scott. Mom and dad don't argue as much when you're here."

"I've missed you too, kiddo." He smiled and left my room to me. I relaxed as best as I could through the shouting in the living room until suppertime. They even argued while Mom was cooking the meal. They didn't even stop it when it was time to eat.

"Why don't the two of you get divorced?" I said a little louder than I should. Both of them stopped arguing and looked at me. "I may not be around here very much lately, but when I am, you're always arguing. Either stop it, or get divorced, because I'm sick of it, and so are the twins." And with that I left the table.

That night, as I was climbing into bed, my mother walked in. She saw my bare butt as I slipped between the covers.

She walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. Thankfully, I was under the covers before she saw my chest. I really needed to remove the nipple rings.

"Not to me, you're not," she said with a smile. She kissed my forehead and hugged me close. I tried my best not to cry; it had been since before we moved here that she had done this. She rose and walked out of the room and closed the door.

I got up real quick and removed the nipple rings before I forgot them and got back in bed. I slept like a log that night and felt infinitely better the next morning.

As March melted into April, and I wasn't 'working', or getting the shit fucked out of me by the principal, for two weeks, it gave me time to think. Even Mr. Flint didn't touch me during that time. Randy and I were still the best of friends and we still hung out together, but my reflections were my own.

By the end of the two week work suspension, all of my wounds were healed and I was ready for work again. The first night, Friday, was to be easy. The first one was Mr. Jackson, so I had to dress up like a girl. I didn't mind doing that. I was actually getting good at putting on the clothes and the small bit of make up. After him, the last two clients were the ones that liked to blow me. All in all, an easy night.

Saturday was kind of a lazy day, as we lay around the backyard getting tanned all over. That evening was one that will go down in my mind as one I will never forget or get over. Dan had me set up for a client who calls himself 'Bob'. Red had been handling him so far, but Red's family was doing something that night, so he had the night 'off'.

Dan pulled up to the hotel and let me out as normal. It was one of the more classier hotels in the city. I was to go to room 416, strip, and wait for further instructions. I did as I was told. As I was standing there naked waiting for 'Bob' to show up, my nipples were getting hard as the room was cold. The holes around my nipple rings closed in on the brass plated pins.

He walked out of the bathroom, but being in the dark of the room, he didn't make out who he was talking to. His night vision hadn't kicked in yet. I turned around and got on my knees, bending over the bed. I stretched my arms out across the covers and waited for my father to fuck me.

"Oh, a new one," he said as he walked over to me, "good. I like Red, but a change is always good."

And with that the conversation ended, and the fucking began. I didn't want to talk; I just wanted him to do what we came here for, and for me to leave. Hopefully, I could skate out of the room without him noticing just who it was he had just fucked.

He grabbed on to my hips and eased his cock up my backside. Now, my father is not incredibly big, but he still was large enough that I felt it.

Once he was completely buried inside me, he pulled back out and with a hard thrust shoved his cock back inside. Again, I held onto the covers of the bed as he rode my ass for all he was worth. At one point, he laid his torso on my back and reached around to tweak my nipples, finding them pierced.

"Ooooh, I like this. Something to play with," he said and pulled down on the rings. He used them as he used my hips; for handles. Holding onto the rings, he fucked me silly. I was just getting used to his cock when he bellowed out his lust as he sent sperm flying into my bowels.

After coming around, he pushed himself off my back and slipping out of my asshole, he returned to the bathroom to wash up. I quickly got up and got my clothes. I dressed at lightning speed, hoping to get out of there before he walked back into the room. Damn the money. But, I wasn't so lucky.

He walked out and flipped the light switch on as I was pulling my shirt back on. He stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he saw me. I stopped putting my shirt on. We just stood there looking at one another.

He had the same look on his face that Mr. Flint did that first night. He went pale as fast as humanly possible. He stumbled back into the sink.

"Oh shit, oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck," he kept repeating to himself. He went into a sort of weird jerking motion and collapsed into a chair next to the sink.

Reality sunk in for me, and I slipped my shoes on, forgoing the socks, and finished pulling down my shirt. With one last look at my father looking like the world was ending, I exited the room and then the hotel. I had been in there for only a half an hour, so I had to wait for Dan in the lobby.

As I was waiting, I saw my father leave the hotel. From where I was sitting, he didn't notice me on his way out. I watched as he didn't check out, but just left the building. When Dan pulled up about half an hour later, he saw me as he walked in.

"No, it's something else. Please trust me, Dan. I'll call the house when I'm ready, okay?"

"Okay, Sport, call when you're ready." He turned and left me alone to wait for my father. He didn't return to the hotel for another two hours. I just sat there waiting.

When he finally arrived, he was dead drunk. I watched as he walked, more like swayed, in the lobby and made his way to the elevators. There was no way I could talk to him tonight, so I walked to the desk and asked for a phone. I called Amy and told her I was ready for Dan to pick me up. She said she would tell him. I hung up the phone to wait again.

Just as the receiver touched the cradle, I heard what sounded like a muffled backfire come from upstairs. I remember wondering what that sound was when someone screamed.

I took the stairs two or three at a time as I made my way towards the person screaming. On the fourth floor, a gathering of people clustered around a door to one room. I ran towards it as fast as my tired legs would allow. I pushed my way through the crowd to the hysterical woman leaning against the wall.

"Don't go in there, kid," the man standing next to her said. I looked at the number; 416. I shoved the door open to find most of my father's brains scattered against the far wall. The rest of him was lying flat on his back on the same bed he had just used to fuck me.

"DAD!" I screamed and ran to his prone body. The gun was in his left hand and still smoking. There was nothing I could do for him. I just grabbed his body and hugged it, crying like a baby. I felt so damn useless.

The police and paramedics had been called and they arrived about five minutes after I discovered his body. They had to pry my hands loose to get to him. The cop that showed up first was actually Officer Johansen, and he recognized me. When I turned, I recognized him, and grabbed onto him as if he were a life preserver. I guess I needed someone just to hold onto, now that my father was gone.

Dan arrived shortly there after, and saw the commotion. When I saw him, he shook his head, no, and mouthed the word, 'later'. I nodded slightly, unnoticeable, that I understood.

Officer Johansen's partner, Officer Travis, asked people outside some questions, and then walked in the room. By that time, I had already formulated a lie in my mind. I was just hoping that I could pull it off.

"Well, Sir, I was meeting him here tonight before we headed out of town together. When I got here, he said that he was going out for a few drinks. We sort of argued about it, and I left the room mad at him. I hate it when he drinks. I saw him leave, so I decided to wait for him to come back. When he came back, I saw how drunk he was so I called a friend's family and asked if I could stay with them till the morning. They are supposed to be here soon.

"When I hung up the phone, I heard the gunshot and the scream from that lady, I ran upstairs as fast as I could. I can't believe he would do this."

"No, Sir. I know my parents have been arguing a lot lately about money and all, but I didn't know it was this bad." The lie was convincing enough to be believable. I saw Dan out of the corner of my eye again.

The police asked him a few questions regarding me and my family, but nothing that was specific. After the officer asked me a few more questions, Officer Johansen motioned that he wanted to see me alone. We walked outside the room while they continued to gather evidence and question people.

"Look, I know what you told my partner was a lie, and I know why you told it. You were here to do a john, weren't you?"

"Okay, look, I'll cover for you on this one, but I don't want to see any of you boys doing this again. I know that man was probably your manager, so I'm going to release you to him and let him get you home. We'll have to question your mother, but I'll make sure that goes nowhere. But this is the last time I want to see your face tied to a death, got it?"

He let Dan take me home, and we arrived just after the cops told my mother what had happened. She was shattered by the news, and so was Thomas. Terry wasn't too shaken, and neither was I. He wasn't a really good father, to be honest.

Over the next few days, I seemed to drift in a fog. I still saw my friends at school, but never over at the Potter's house again. That chapter of my life was over.

The investigation revealed that he had killed himself after getting drunk, which is what I told them to begin with, but nothing else. True to his word, Officer Johansen made sure nothing came from the investigation, and no one was jailed over it.

My father's funeral was small with only our small family present. I finished the fifth grade there, but my mother couldn't keep the house and three boys, so we moved again that summer. I never saw Randy or the others again.

Shakey Psyche

Rent-a-Kid

Chapter 6-11

Chapter 6
Time With Friends and Teachers

Chapter 7
From the Beginning

Chapter 8
A Night With a New Client

Chapter 9
Rudy's Big Mistake

Chapter 10
Suspended Time

Chapter 11
A Screeching Halt

The End

Shakey Psyche

Rent-a-Kid

Chapter 6-11

Chapter 6Time With Friends and Teachers

Chapter 7From the Beginning

Chapter 8A Night With a New Client

Chapter 9Rudy's Big Mistake

Chapter 10Suspended Time

Chapter 11A Screeching Halt

The End

Chapter 6
Time With Friends and Teachers

Chapter 7
From the Beginning

Chapter 8
A Night With a New Client

Chapter 9
Rudy's Big Mistake

Chapter 10
Suspended Time

Chapter 11
A Screeching Halt