ONE PART
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AnonymousB.Y.O.B. |
SummaryEvery 4th of July a group of truckers have their B.Y.O.B. (Bring Your Own Boy) weekend.
Publ. before 2004; this site Jul 2011
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CharactersPunk (11yo) and the TruckerCategory & Story codesNon-Consensual Man-Boy story/KidnapMb – non-cons oral anal – bond ws (Explanation) |
DisclaimerThis story is the complete and total product of the author's imagination and a work of fantasy, thus it is completely fictitious, i.e. it never happened and it doesn't mean to condone or endorse any of the acts that take place in it. The author certainly wouldn't want the things in this story happening to his character(s) to happen to anyone in real life.The theme explored in this story is FANTASY. Just as one can enjoy violent videogames or movies without committing or condoning violence in real life, a person can enjoy violent fantasies of abuse without promoting abuse in real life.
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Orphan storyThe story is sent to me by Ayas. It is an orphan story, that means that the author's e-mail address is no longer active and there is no other way to contact the author. Are you the author, please contact me.Thank you for taking the time to send feedback to the collector through this feedback form with .. in the subject line. |
I held the cheeseburger patiently while Punk bit off a mouthful of it, chewed carefully, and then swallowed. Then I offered him the straw coming out of the top of the milkshake, and he gratefully took a long swig. Punk had actually seemed happy to see me when I'd gotten back from the food run, which I suppose was natural. Sure, I'd chloroformed him and kidnapped him right out of the alley where he was playing behind his house, and raped the ass off him all the way across country to Wyoming, but you still had to figure he'd been pretty scared, left strung up naked by his wrists to the central support beam in the cabin's one large room while I drove the truck 30 miles [50 km] back into the nearest town to get some chow. It had been almost touching, how relieved he'd seemed when I walked back into the room, even though I'm sure he knew I was just going to be up his ass again after I finished feeding him. Punk's real name was Gerald Whitmore, or Whitland, or something like that, and he had just finished the sixth grade at Richard Boyse Middle School, somewhere back in frickin' Indiana, not that I figured he'd be moving on to seventh grade in the fall or anything. But he was just Punk to me, and he'd be Punk to my buddies once they arrived for our traditional 4th of July weekend. Hell, I wasn't even sure his name was Gerald, I'd only glanced at the school I.D. from his little leather wallet once before I tossed it in a garbage can at a rest stop somewhere in Michigan. But I remembered the sixth grade part, and for some reason, the name of the school had stayed with me, too. When I say I didn't expect Punk to move on to the seventh grade in the fall, I don't mean to imply that I was planning to do anything fatal to the little snot. I'm not like that, and neither are my buddies. One reason we decided to start doing young boys a few years back instead of girls is that if you clean a boy up after the gangbang is over, let him get dressed again, and drop him off a block away from his house, he will very gratefully french kiss you good bye, sniffle a little, limp bowlegged back home, and make up some really stupid excuse for where he's been the last three days and stick to it forever, rather than admit that he spent the whole time getting pumped full of cum at both ends by half a dozen strangers and by the second day of steady use, he was learning to like it, too. This is a great advantage over abducting and raping young girls. A 13 or 14 year old girl would break down in a minute and tell the truth, and then the smokies get into it, and it's a big thing. But a boy that age? Never in a million years will they talk about what they did over their summer vacation, assuming what they did was get used as a sperm bank by half a dozen mean & horny truckers. Of course, so far, Punk had only been used by one mean & horny trucker 3; me 3; and I hadn't bothered to tell him about the holiday weekend he was in for. My buddies and I had been doing B.Y.O.B. (Bring Your Own Boy) 4th of July weekends for six years now, ever since Roland inherited this crumbling old cabin in Wyoming. Since we're all long haul truckers, and ardent pedos, we'd all been taking advantage of the many unique opportunities a life on the road offers to pull young tail, and getting together once a year to share our experiences just made sense. Adding in the little extra fun of requiring each of us to bring a fairly tight and relatively fresh hole to contribute to the shindig made it slightly more dangerous, but a lot more fun. Another advantage boys have over girls, in terms of abduction and rape scenarios, is girls of a certain age are much more zealously watched and guarded in our culture, while boys tend to sneak off on their own a lot more. Plus, a 12 or 13 year old boy will hop into a big monster truck with a strange man a lot more thoughtlessly than a girl that age would. Furthermore, you wouldn't expect it if you've never tried it, but boys take to a forced dicking, in either hole (or both at once) much more naturally and easily than girls do (I myself don't know why, but they do; a girl will sob and scream and kick her feet and struggle for hours unless you beat it out of her, and who wants a little slut all covered in bruises? but a boy will cave in almost immediately 3; a few slaps, maybe one good buttfucking with a nice big dick, and he's absolutely eager to suck any cock that's handy, especially if he thinks it will keep that same big throbbing prick out of his little ass). Boys also suck cock better than girls, once you get them trained a little, and your average 10, 11, 12 year old boy will always swallow your cum, from the very first spurt in their reluctant little mouths, even without explicit directions. You have to wallop most little girls cross eyed before they choke a big mouthful of sperm down the first few times, but boys just lap the stuff up. Punk finished his swig of milkshake and looked up at me. I offered him the cheeseburger again and he shook his head. "m' full," he said, blinking his eyes rapidly the way he does when he's trying not to cry. It didn't surprise me; he'd already eaten a whole double cheeseburger, a large fries, and half my onion rings. "Good," I said heartily, and put the food down so I could unbuckle my belt. "Ready for dessert?" I'd gotten to the cabin first this year and most likely the rest of the guys wouldn't show up until early tomorrow morning, but that was no reason not to keep busy. I'm one of those guys with a very high natural libido; given the chance, I can fuck five or six times a day, and shoot pretty big loads every time I get off, too. Punk couldn't stop staring at my crotch as I unbuckled my belt. His eyes had filled with tears, but his mouth had fallen open and the tip of his tongue was protruding from one corner of his mouth and he'd started breathing hard as he hung there from the ropes. As I watched, his tongue started running in a circle around his lips, and a little stream of drool began to trickle down the corner of his chin. He didn't reply to my question, but he moaned as he saw me fold my jeans open to the bottom of the zipper, and his pupils were dilated with interest as he saw my half hard cock rapidly balloon to its full seven thick inches [18 cm] as I pulled it out into the open air, catching the elastic of my underwear beneath my balls. I grinned as I saw him start to breathe harder at the sight of my erection. Most kids won't even remotely resist sucking a cock; there's something instinctive about wanting a dick in your mouth for nearly everyone, and Punk was no exception. I didn't have to do a thing except shuffle forward a few steps; Punk moaned and leaned down as much as he could, given how I'd tied his wrists above his head, really forcing himself forward and downwards as much as possible against his extended arms. This let him get his mouth low enough that he could run his tongue around my cockhead, but he couldn't get any further south; after licking at it desperately for a few seconds, he looked up at me piteously. I laughed at him. "Does my little cocksucking girlie boy want daddy's dick in her mouth?" I teased him. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed and shuddered, but then whispered, "Please, daddy, I 3; I wanna suck it. I wanna 3; I wanna suck your big cock, please." I reached out and pinched his earlobe with my fingernails. "You know what that makes you, Punk?" I asked him, my voice gentle. Punk groaned but said, a mixture of misery and lust in his whimpering voice, "A little faggot 3; I'm a little cocksucking faggot 3; I like to suck dicks, daddy 3; plah 3; please 3;" I smiled and shuffled forward again and rubbed my dickhead around on his chest and lower neck. "How old are you, Punk?" I asked him. I often asked him these questions since he'd started to actually crave my dick in his mouth, just to keep him humiliated. "Eee 3; eleven, daddy," he whispered, shuddering as I rubbed my dickhead on his soft skin, trying to watch it past his chin, gasping now as he kept licking his lips. "I'm eleven, daddy 3; I'll buh be twelve in October 3;" "Eleven years old," I said. "An eleven year old BOY who loves to suck cock 3; suck a strange man's cock 3; and call him daddy while he sucks that strange man's cock 3;" I shook my head from side to side and made tsking sounds. "Punk, didn't they teach you about this stuff in school? Didn't they have an assembly about little boys who suck on strange men's cocks?" A sob burst from Punk's lips now, then a moan as he shuddered, but kept staring intently at my hard dick.. "It's bad," he whispered. "It's 3; buh bad touching 3;" A little string of drool now fell from Punk's chin onto my purple, throbbing cockhead as I rubbed it on his chest. "Yes, it is," I told him sternly. "But you don't care. You're a little dick whore. You want daddy's big cock for dinner, don't you?" He moaned and said, eagerly now, "Yes, daddy, please, I'm hungry, I want your cock for dinner, please 3;" I grinned. "And what else?" Punk shuddered, but he knew the answer. "Yuh your cum, daddy, I want your cum, I wanna have your cum for dinner, please, daddy, I'm a little cum eater, I'm a middle school faggot, I'm a girlie boy, I'm your cocksucker, please, let me suck it 3;" I grinned. "When I let you go home, what are you going to do, Punk?" He sobbed. "Suck my real daddy. Suck my Uncle Rick. Suck all my teachers if they want me to. Suck my Scoutmaster and Pastor Jorgenson and all the high school kids. I'll suck anybody, daddy. I love to. I'll suck dicks all day long, daddy." "Mmmm," I said, holding him by the shoulders now and leaning in to rub my balls against his chest and upper stomach. "And if you see some total stranger looking at you the way I look at you, Punk? Looking at your pretty mouth?" Punk whimpered and pressed himself against me as best he could, shuddering in his bonds. "I'll suck him, daddy. I'll give him a note, I'll always carry a note in my shirt pocket, all folded up, it will say 'my daddy taught me to suck and I'll suck you if you want me to please let me mister I love cock and I'm a good little cocksucker'." "That's right, baby," I crooned, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Then I tilted his chin up and kissed his mouth hungrily. He groaned and started to kiss me back, trembling in my arms as we frenched each other, our slick, hot tongues working against each other and sliding in and out, past each other's open, panting lips, exploring each other's mouths deeply for several minutes. Little strings of saliva connected our lips when I finally lifted my mouth off his, and he had drool all over his chin. "Ahhhhh," he moaned, eyes closed, his tongue still out, searching for mine for several seconds after I stopped kissing him. Punk still wasn't happy taking a dick up his ass, but orally, he was pretty well exactly what I wanted him to be. "Whore," I said, with great, good humored satisfaction. Punk just moaned in agreement and stared at my cock. I ran my tongue slowly around his lips and then asked, "Do you love me, you disgusting little cock hole?" Punk shuddered and clenched his eyes closed, but after a second, he groaned, "Yuh 3; yes, dah daddy 3;. I 3; you know I love you 3;" That's a typical reaction. Rape anyone 3; man, woman or child 3; for a week or so straight, and they'll fall in love with you. It's a defense mechanism, but it doesn't make the emotion any less real for them. This is one of the great secrets of the ages that too few guys know. There is no reason to suffer and pine for that wonderful woman who 'just doesn't have those feelings' for you. Keep her in your basement and fuck her three or four times a day, maybe throw in a little bit of a beating now and then, feed her regularly with your own hands and constantly alternate telling her what a worthless slut she is with telling her how much you love her, and in a week, tops, you'll be able to untie her and point to the open door, and she'll get on her knees and beg you, crying on your feet, to not make her leave. Of course, these days, it can be hard to arrange getting her into your basement and keeping her there for a week or so without anyone noticing, but still, the principle is sound. I kissed Punk's mouth gently and said "Daddy loves you too, baby, even though you are a worthless cum hole." Then I pulled one of the old wooden chairs over in front of him and got up on it, to bring my cock to his face level, since I didn't want to untie him yet. I didn't have to say anything else; as soon as my cockhead was level with his face, Punk groaned and leaned forward and slurped it into his mouth. He started working it with his tongue and bobbing his head on the shaft immediately, moaning around it as he started to give me the 22nd blowjob of his young life. "Mmmphhh mmmmmm nnnmmmmphhh nmmmm ggnnnmmmm," Punk sighed around my cock as he avidly worked my meat with his mouth. Punk gave wet, slobbering blowjobs, just the way I like them, constantly moaning and making slurping noises with his lips and tongue as he sucked and bobbed and gobbled away at my dick. "That's some excellent cocksucking, baby girl," I complimented him as I held his eagerly bobbing head in both hands. "You could get a hundred bucks for a blowjob like that in Central Park, let me tell you. I should rent that pretty little mouth of yours out for dick storage, sweetie." "Nmmmm mmmmphhhh gggnnnmmmm," Punk seemed to agree, as he kept blowing me, bobbing up and down, diligently trying to get me off in his hot little mouth. "Oh YEAH you little whore," I groaned, and held his ears tightly as I shot my fourth load of the day into his sucking mouth. Punk groaned and immediately began slurping away, swallowing my cum industriously as I pumped it into his oral orifice. He gulped it down, spurt after spurt, moaning in genuine pleasure as he did one of the two things I'd taught him he was really good at, and that he'd been put on Earth to do. The other thing – taking a dick up his ass – Punk still pretty much hated doing, but he was sure relaxed to the idea that he was a born dicksucker by now. Finally, I finished cumming with a sigh. Punk was still nursing and slurping at my dick; put a cock in his mouth these last few days and he'll suck at it for hours, even if it's soft. It felt great, but I had another hole to get off in, so I pushed his head back off my dick and, reluctantly and carefully, stepped down to the cabin floor again. "That was an excellent blowjob, baby," I told him, stroking his chin and his neck. "You're really getting very good at that. You're going to make your real daddy and all your teachers very happy when you get home again." Punk sighed, but he knew what was coming next, and he was watching my dick trepidatiously. The fact that it hadn't gotten soft told him everything he needed to know about my intentions. It was just cruel of me to actually say, with a little chuckle, "Ready for a nice after dinner fuck now, faggot?" Punk clenched his eyes closed and sobbed, his skinny little body shaking as he stood there, his wrists pulled up over his head and tied together with a hank of baling twine I'd tossed up over the central support beam. "Please don't," he said. "My butt hurts so bad 3; please, I'll suck you again, please, don't, I like it to suck you, daddy, pleeeeease 3;" I ignored his squalling as I shoved my jeans down around my knees and shuffled around behind him (I hadn't built a fire in the hearth yet and the cabin's floorboards were still way too cold to get undressed fully). I pulled the tube of KY out of my jeans pocket (standard equipment for nomadic boy rapers; you gotta have it!) and lubed up my hard dick, shivering with anticipation. There is nothing I like better than fucking me some young pussy, and I don't care if that young pussy is on a boy or a girl. "Ahhh, tight little boy cunt," I said, grabbing his hips from behind and pulling him back so his asscheeks gripped my hard on. I rubbed my cock up and down between his cheeks for a few seconds, sighing with pleasure, then got down to the serious business of stuffing my hard on back up his little slut hole for his third corn holing of the day. Naturally, Punk wasn't anywhere near as hard to get up into today, after a six day road trip of steady buttfucking, as he had been when I'd first snatched him out of that alley nearly a week before. Still, boys don't naturally lubricate so I can't say I exactly slid up into him smooth as glass, even with the lube. Getting your cock up nearly anyone's ass is a matter of increments; you wedge your dickhead in and slowly work it upwards against the usually tightly clenched sphincter. When you feel it finally pop up inside you know you're in, but you're still not home free. Only when using a really well broken in butt slut can you just slide on home at that point; in your less well used holes, you still have to inch your dick upward, grunting as you hold onto your fuckmeat's hipbones and hump away at that tight little hole, shoving your prick up there a little bit at a time, until you're finally buried to the balls. With a young boy (at least, one who hasn't been broken in already by dad, big bro, or their dirty old uncle), there's generally a lot of squirming and sobbing and yelling, too. But then, I like that. Punk was no exception in terms of squirming and sobbing and yelling; he cried and begged and threw himself around as much as he could, but that wasn't much, since I'd tied him up on his tiptoes and he was pretty weak from hanging there for over an hour and a half. A time would come, and probably not very far off, either, when the little whore would grit his teeth and bend over and present his ass without resistance when he heard a man's zipper go down behind him (and if anyone kept up his training after that point, he'd eventually get to a stage where he wouldn't be gritting his teeth any more, he'd be moaning and pulling his cheeks apart and looking back between his legs and whimpering "please, please mister, please, fuck my little ass, PLEASE", but I doubted I'd be keeping him that long). However, for now, he was still resisting anal sex, and I didn't mind at all 3; it's kind of fun when they're still fiesty. So now, as I grabbed his hips and pulled him back onto my dick, he started crying and saying "No, please don't, please, it hurts, please don't do that, please, please daddy, please 3;" As I rubbed my cock up and down in the crack of his ass, enjoying the smooth feel of his butt furrow on the underside of my lubed up, slick shaft, he sobbed and writhed against me and kept saying "No, please, pleeeeeeease, I'll suck it again, I will, lemme suck it, I wanna, pleeeeeeease 3;" I just grinned and repositioned, jamming my slippery cockhead against the red, chafed looking pucker of his anus. His asshole was considerably wider now than it had been six days ago, and much rawer looking, but I still had to work my plum sized dickhead up into it. As I started forcing my cock up into him, Punk started squealing, louder and more shrilly "Nooooooo ohhhh NOOOOOO please DON'T please DON'T ohhhhhh shitttttt NO please no PLEASE 3;!" Then my cockhead popped up past his slightly agape sphincter and into his rectum proper and he gave a short little gasping shriek – "AHH!" – and then started sobbing in earnest: "Ahhhhh it hurtss it hurts it hurrrrrrrttssssssss 3;!" Now, honest to God, I'd been fucking this kid three or four times a day for six days at that point; you'd think he'd have gotten by now that 'it hurts it hurts it hurrrrrtssss' just makes me enjoy raping his little ass even more. But no, every time, the same old song 3; sobbing, crying, begging, please don't, oh no, I'll suck you, oh God, it hurttttttssssss 3; you gotta love it. Holding his hips, I jammed my own pelvis forward hard, trying my damnedest to bury my cock in Punk's tight asshole in one thrust. I couldn't do it, but I loved trying. His yelling turned into one long drawn out high pitched scream as I rammed my dick up into his guts, interrupted only as I grunted and thrust hard again, then one more time, driving my dick further up him each time, until finally I was buried to the root in his hot tight velvety smooth vise of a boy cunt. "Mmmmm that's some primo ass, baby," I murmured in his ear, licking it wetly as I ground my hips against his asscheeks, flexing and stirring my cock in the clamp- tight grip of his hot hole. "I love fuckin' your ass, baby boy. You love daddy's big cock up your ass, don't you? Admit it you little bitch!" Punk was just sobbing incoherently now as he felt my cock jammed to the base up his back door, but you have to be strict with the little sluts. I reached around and squeezed his balls hard. "Daddy asked you a question, cunt, now you answer it!" I growled in his ear. Punk moaned in pain and nearly choked on his sobs, but finally managed to gasp out "Uggghhhhh yuh yessss daddy, uuuhhhh 3;. lahhh 3; luvv yourrrrr big 3; buh big 3; cah cah 3; COCK 3; up my 3;. my 3; ASSSSS 3;" as tears poured down his face. Mmmm, I just love it when they're still not used to it. Once they get addicted to it and start needing it, it's fun too 3; you can make them beg and grovel and crawl around like little puppies and cry their little eyes out and kiss your feet just by starting to pull your pants up 3; but when they still cry like their hearts are breaking from a good ass raping, man, that's the BEST. I should probably note that Punk was an exceptionally pretty little girlie-boy 3; so much so, in fact, that I half expected to find a well broken in hole when I got his shorts off him for the first time (you'd be shocked how many really gorgeous, angel faced little boys out there started blowing daddy, and sometimes grandpa, big brother, and uncle Larry, too, practically in the cradle). Punk had the cutest little snub nose, tousled, curly red hair, big green eyes, a light dusting of freckles across chubby little cheeks, and the prettiest, most perfectly formed mouth I'd ever seen on anyone, male or female. But no, his dad must have been a real prude or something; Punk had obviously been a virgin 3; hell, he hadn't sucked a dick, handled one, or even seen one, when I grabbed him! A crime against nature; kids that pretty should be shipped off to a special camp by their third birthday to get indoctrinated in basic dick handling, I think. "I know you love it," I growled in his ear, "now stop crying like a little girl and tilt your head back." Punk sobbed but did his best to comply, turning his face up toward me over his left shoulder, as I leaned forward and fastened my lips tightly and greedily over his. My big tongue shot forward between his soft, small, pretty lips, invading his sweet mouth voraciously as he groaned and gasped for breath. As I slurped away at his pretty mouth, I started humping in and out of his ass on a short, maybe inch and half [4 cm] long stroke, with abrupt, vicious movements of my hips. IN, out, IN, out, the tight smooth clasp of his anus exciting the shaft of my cock deliciously as I plundered his mouth with my tongue. Punk was moaning into my mouth now and his tongue had started to come alive against mine once more; in six days, he'd also picked up quite a lot of kissing technique, as well, and although I knew his ass still hurt from my dick ramming in and out of it brutally, I also knew the sensations were starting to feel good to him, too. Probably the first ten times a kid gets fucked by an adult (especially butt fucked) it's pretty awful for them. The next ten times they've gotten a little accustomed to it and it's not quite as bad, but it still sure as hell isn't dinner and a movie. But after their 21st deep fucking, the sexual pleasure center of their brain has been sensitized enough by the various physical and emotional sensations of hard serial penetration 3; the helplessness, the submissiveness, the degradation, and the sheer undeniable enjoyment of having a nice big cock sliding in and out of them, which is what they were evolutionarily designed for, anyway 3; that some real sexual pleasure starts to get mixed up in all the pain and stress. It's a simple defensive survival adaptation, too 3; as I mentioned before, rape someone long enough and often enough, especially a kid, and especially, in our culture, a young boy, and they just give in to it. Their mind buckles and they just adapt to it and learn to like it. Ideally, your happiest and best trained little cum sluts should be sucking your dick before they're out of Pampers and getting it up the ass by the age of 5 or 6 at the latest 3; this way, by the time they reach their stage of maximum cuteness (from around 8 to 14) they're well broken in, they love cock, and they'll do whatever daddy tells them to do and enjoy it, even (or especially) if what daddy tells them to do is come to work with him once or twice a week and suck off half the guys in the office while the other half line up to simultaneously shaft their hot little butt holes. On the day I chloroformed Punk, grabbed him, tied him up and gagged him, and stuffed him into the storage space underneath the bunk in my sleeper-cab, I'd put a good hundred miles between us and the Indiana town where I'd found him, before pulling into a rest stop beside a highway in the next state, hauling him out, yanking his shorts down, greasing his ass up thoroughly, and then fucking him for the first time without even untying him or taking his gag out. After I'd cum in him that first time, I'd rested for a few minutes, and then I'd fucked him again, and a few minutes after that, I'd fucked him yet a third time. I wanted him to have absolutely no illusions about what I'd snatched him for; the sooner he got used to the idea that from that point until I let him go (if I did) all he was was a hole for me to stick my dick into, the better off he'd be. After the third time, as he sobbed and whimpered like he was going to die, I'd given him a few minutes, then slapped him a couple of times to get his attention, and when I had it, I'd told him that I'd take the gag out of his mouth and untie his hands so he could learn to give me a blowjob 3; or, if he didn't want to suck my dick for me, that was fine, I'd just fuck him again the next time I got a hard on. You fuck a virgin kid of either gender two or three times, really hard, before you ever even say a word to them, and trust me, they'll actually be grateful for a chance to suck your dick for you as an alternative to getting fucked again. Wearing his cute little X- Men t-shirt, shorts around his knees, ankles still tied together with baling twine over his white socks and expensive Nike sneakers, Punk spent the rest of that night getting the basics of blowjob administration down, kneeling next to me on the mattress in my sleeper-cab, while I relaxed back against the pillows and guided his head up and down, up and down, with one big hand. I wouldn't say he was exactly happy to suddenly find himself choking and gagging as a strange man forced a nice big hard throbbing cock into his mouth and throat over and over again, and he certainly wasn't thrilled by his first experience guzzling sperm, but he gulped most of it down anyway without even being told he had to. I'd fucked him three times, and then, he blew me three times on that first night with me in the cab, and in between blowjobs, I was teaching him the proper way to kiss adults while he stroked my cock back to hardness for me 3; not that I was ever soft for long, with such a pretty little toy tonguing my mouth and dutifully pumping my dick with his small, soft hands. Punk was still crying as I dicked him, and as his ass warmed up to my fucking my strokes were lengthening; I was pumping him on a good four inches [10 cm] of shaft in, then four inches back out now. But he was also kissing me back hotly by then, too, flexing his puffy pink lips against and under mine, moaning and sucking at my tongue as I reamed out his mouth with it. Two minutes into this hot boy fuck I started hammering my prick in and out of his tight, clenching ass so hard and deep and fast I couldn't keep my mouth on his, so I straightened up and just slammed it to him, my head thrown back on my neck and my back arched, grunting as my hard throbbing cock rammed in and out of his hole over and over and over. "Love 3; fuckin 3; ASS! Love 3; fucking 3; ASS! Love 3; fuckin 3; ASS!" I was chanting as I sodomized my 11 year old fuck toy hard. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" Punk was grunting, each time I rammed my dick up into him and then withdrew. "OhOhOhOhOhOhOhOhOhOhOOOOOOOOOOOO 3;!" Since he'd just so admirably sucked a load out of me a few minutes before, he had no hope of me getting off fast in his hot, tight, ravished little ass, and he just had to take it for a good ten minutes, hanging there from the ceiling beam as I raped the living shit out of him and loved every second of it. "OhhhhhhOOOOOOOO GOD!!" Punk and I both screamed in unison as my cum spurted up into his tight fuck hole and he felt it splashing against his rectal lining. "Ah ah ah ah AHHHH!" Punk sobbed as I kept ramming my dick in and out of him, cum splattering out in high pressure jets the whole time, hosing down the inside of his tight asshole as I moaned my way through an intense orgasm. Finally, I stopped creaming in his butt hole and pulled out with a sigh. Cum spilled out of his hole in a thick creamy waterfall and spattered on the wooden floorboards. I contemplated making him lick it up, but decided not to. He'd been a very good little fuck hole, and he deserved some nice treatment 3; well, a little bit of nice treatment, anyway. So I moved around in front of him and cut his wrists loose. He looked at me gratefully, then got on his knees as he'd been taught and diligently cleaned my messy cock off with his tongue. I sighed as he slurped away at his own shit and my cum all along the sides of my prick, but having been laid five times that day already, I didn't get hard again. I did have to piss, though, and Punk has gotten good at taking my piss. He doesn't like drinking piss as much as he likes swallowing cum, but he'll take it over getting buttfucked. After I finished pissing and Punk finished up draining my dick down his throat, I gave him a break, which meant putting him to work, but with no butt sex, for the next hour or so, sweeping a year's worth of dirt out of the cabin, unrolling the mattresses on the bunks, spreading our big double sleeping bag out on one 3; Punk would be used during the day by all the guys, just as I'd use their contributions to the weekend fun during the day myself, but he'd sleep with me 3; and finally, hauling buckets of water from the pump outside to fill up the big wash tub so he and I could take a bath. I built a fire while he was doing that so we could heat the water, and it all took a depressingly long time, but it was worth it when we finally climbed into the hot bath together and started to wash each other off. Halfway through Punk asked me very sweetly if he could please suck me off one more time before bed, and taking a bath with him had gotten me about half hard again anyway, so I let him, and he happily bobbed his little head on my dick where it jutted up out of the soapy water for ten minutes or so before I gave him my last load of the day, and he swallowed it down contentedly. Punk was obviously one tired little fuck baby when we were finished with that, so I carried him over to the bunk and tucked him into our sleeping bag myself, then hauled the washtub over to the door and dumped it out, hanging it up to dry on the peg on the outside cabin wall. Then I went out, checked the rig over (it's a habit, even way out in the wilderness), grabbed a couple of extra blankets (it gets cold at night, even in July, up there) from the cab's sleeper, went back in, undressed, and slipped in next to Punk's warm, naked body, cuddled him up against me like the world's best teddy bear, and went to sleep myself. I was 15 years old, and my mother was sucking my dick for me out on our front porch 3; I was sitting in the big old overstuffed armchair we kept out there in the summer, and Mom was stripped down to just her panties, kneeling on a cushion and blowing me, her gaze turned up to mine every second as she bobbed her head and slurped at my cock, her big blue eyes glowing with arousal and mischief. She was wearing her glasses, the big rectangular frames magnifying her eyes slightly, and her hair was up in a bun the way she wore it when she stood up in front of 9th grade English and wrote nouns and adverbs on the blackboard 3; Dad was at the other end of the porch, tending to the hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill. "Better finish up soon, Martha," he admonished my mother, "or at least, take it inside 3; the folks will be here for the barbecue soon." Dad was naked except for a cook's apron that said had a red line at his nipple height and the legend IF YOU ARE TALLER THAN THIS LINE YOU MUST KNEEL TO BLOW THE COOK on the front of it. I could see his cock because his side was to me and I wanted to suck it, but I knew Dad wouldn't let boys over the age of 12 suck his dick 3; he thought it was faggy.. Mom was a former beauty queen 3; Miss Arkansas, I think 3; who taught English at my high school and who all my buddies wanted to fuck, with her pretty brunette hair and beautiful face and trim body that was just barely starting to thicken a little now that she was in her late 30s. She was always the most beautiful slut in the world to me, and since I'd turned 13 Dad had given me free access to her. Mom loved to suck my cock, it was her favorite thing to do 3; I heard a whimper and turned my head the other way and there was my younger brother Steve, leaning forward against the porch railing, getting his asshole stuffed with dick from behind by Uncle Steve, who he'd been named after. But if I was 15, then Steve was 13, and he was too old to get fucked 3; at least in front of Dad. Uncle Steve had his own rules, and he'd kept fucking me and Steve right up until we graduated high school, just not when Dad was around 3;. My little sister Polly, who I knew was only 9 but who in this dream looked just like she did at her first wedding when she was 17 (and I fucked her at the reception) came wandering out onto the porch. "Dad, everyone will be here soon," she said in her complaining voice, glancing jealously over at me and Mom. "Mom should stop being such a whore and go put some clothes on." Dad just laughed at her and jabbed her with the barbecue fork in her sexy boob, and she got down on her knees and started to lick his balls for him, still bitching in between licks that people would see when they showed up and we had to get ready. Now I was jealous, watching her lick dad's balls, knowing I'd never get dad's dick in my mouth again unless Mom took me to the bookstore with her and let me into the glory hole booth 3; I woke up, and of course it was Punk sucking my morning hard on for me in my sleep. He must have woken up, noticed I was stiff, and slipped down into the sleeping bag to start blowing me. What a good boy. There's no better way to wake up than that. I'd woken up just as I was about to climax into Mom's eager mouth, so now I groaned and had myself a nice hot pleasurable orgasm in Punk's bobbing, slurping suckhole instead, splattering his tonsils with cum as he moaned in pleasure and gulped it all down. I sighed when I was done, then pushed the sleeping bag open and got out, dragging Punk out with my by the hair at the back of his head. He yelped but I ignored that, hauling him out the back door of the cabin and putting him down on his knees to take my morning piss, which he swallowed there in the early daylight with his eyes closed, hardly gagging at all. I didn't know when the other guys would get in, but they were due any time 3; it was the Saturday of a weekend when Fourth of July was on Monday, and chances were they'd all show up sometime today. So we had to finish getting ready. The first person at the cabin every year does clean up and gets the grille ready, and we still had that to do this morning. So I put Punk to work again (some people think having a sex slave is just about sex, but it's actually about cheap labor, too) and we got the grille out and cleaned up and ready, behind the cabin, for the cook outs that were a traditional part of 4th of July weekend. Then I got the tables set up inside and the cards and poker chips set out 3; all night poker games, with young cum holes sucking our dicks and providing ass service as necessary during hands, were another fixture of 4th of July weekends at the cabin. Then I clipped Punk's dog collar and leash on him and led him around to the front of the cabin, where there were 6 iron posts pounded into the pine needle scattered dirt that comprised the front 'yard'. The collar was the one I use every year, a nice expensive one with 'Punk' on a little brass plate on it. I tied the leash to the post that also had a 'Punk' placard at the top of it, and said "Do I have to tie you hand and foot, or are you going to be a good boy?" Punk lowered his head. "I'll be good, daddy," he murmured. "But you can tie me up f' you wanna." I ruffled his hair, kissed his mouth, and handed him the blanket I'd brought out with us. "You can lay on that, baby, or roll up in it if you want, although I think it's gonna get hot today." Punk sighed and spread the blanket out on the dirt and sat down on it and looked around. The various other poles all had placards on them, too 3; HOOVER, BLACK HOLE, PRINCESS, SWEETHEART, COOKIE MONSTER 3; and as Punk looked around, I wondered what this year's crop would look like. None of them would be over the age of 12 and all would be boys, but the guys couldn't always select for prettiness when they grabbed their contribution to 4th of July weekend 3; access and opportunity often had to trump good looks. Black Hole would be black, of course, because Randall is a real red neck and he gets off on fucking black kids (he says 'all niggers love to suck dick' and is determined to prove it; I'm not wild about his language or attitudes, but we try to emphasize what brings us together 3; a mutual love of kiddie sex and rape 3; rather than what sets us apart). Other than that, though, the latest bunch could look like anything. I'd just have to wait and see. I was looking forward to the guys getting here, though; their eyes were going to pop out when they saw Punk 3; he really was a very pretty little toy. 'Princess' and 'Sweetheart', whatever they looked like, would show up cross dressed, because Fred and Mac are both into that. The rest of the boys would be naked except for collars (and bruises, probably) for the weekend, but 'Princess' and 'Sweetheart' would stay in, at the very least, high heels, thigh highs and garters, frilly little skirts and training bras, and most likely, they'd be wearing wigs and make up the entire weekend, too. It wasn't my thing 3; my dad wasn't someone who cross dressed his sons 3; but I didn't mind it, and had to admit, some past 'Princesses' and 'Sweethearts' had made very pretty little girls. "Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?" Punk said from his blanket, where he had curled up with his head on my feet, as I looked around, lost in thought. I laughed. "You'll get fucked enough when everyone else shows up, slutty little girl," I told him. "I need to save some cum for your sisters when they get here." Punk sighed. He didn't sound happy about the thought of being gangbanged by strangers, but he just kissed one of my boot tips and then put his head back down on my laces. A couple of minutes later, I heard a diesel horn honk in the distance, and squinting down the road, with Punk still lying on my feet, I could see the sun twinkling off chrome as someone's cab came roaring and grinding up the dirt road between the pine trees. It was a big red cab, but I couldn't make out details until it was closer, and realized it was Mike's big Peterbilt. It turned into the small circular track that runs around the cabin, the horn sounded a few more times and I waved to Mike as he drove by. Then he pulled around back and parked next to my rig. I heard a door open and slam closed, and Mike's deep voice saying something, and a higher, whinier voice saying something back. Mike came into sight around the cabin, pushing a skinny, naked kid in front of him, holding onto a leash that led to the kid's collar in one hand and shoving the kid along with his other one. "Hey, bro," Mike and I said in unison, shaking hands and clapping each other on the shoulders. He looped the leash around the pole with the HOOVER placard on it and I eyed his offering. A skinny kid, like I said 3; maybe 10 years old and around 3'8 [1.12 m], he looked part Asian, or maybe Hispanic, I couldn't tell 3; very dark hair that was not quite shoulder length, a nice enough face, marred with a bruise on one cheek that had half shut his right eye, and a skinny, bronze toned body that also had a few bruises here and there 3; obviously, a scrapper. Punk hadn't fought me much at all, but people have different taming styles; Mike doesn't like to tie his up and fuck them at first, he prefers to offer his cock to their mouths and let them refuse, then pound on the little bitches until they change their minds. I wondered, though, if Mike had had this year's Hoover long enough to beat most of the fight out of him. Nobody likes a little dicksucker who bites. Mike had been checking out Punk, now he whistled. "Hey, he's a pretty one," he said admiringly. "Nice fuckin' job, bro. Mind if I try him out?" "Help yourself," I said, moving up to Hoover and unzipping my jeans. "This one bite?" Hoover rolled his eyes up at me miserably, but got to his knees docilely enough, and I didn't see any fight in him. "Nah," Mike said, "I smacked that crap out of him night before last 3; he don't like sucking dick much and he hates taking it up the ass, but he won't bite or struggle any more, the little bitch." I didn't have to hear the 'nmmmmm mmmggghhhh nrrrrrmmm' sounds, and the slurping, to know that Punk had gotten up on his knees and was now quite eagerly fellating this new strange 'daddy' 3; Mike's moans had told me that. I offered my hard on to Hoover, and he closed his eyes, opened his mouth with a miserable little sob of breath, and didn't resist when I grabbed him at the back of the head and yanked his head forward, sliding my dick into his open mouth. Mike hadn't had Hoover long, or he just trained sloppily; obviously, the slut was going to just kneel there and let me fuck his mouth 3; which is better than a snapping turtle, but not adequate in a properly trained cock hole, not at all. I cuffed the side of his head, then took out a butane lighter I keep in my pocket and popped it alight down in front of his open, left eye, while holding his head firmly in place on my dick. "Son," I told him, "you better start moving your tongue with a purpose, and sucking that dick like you love it and don't want nothin' else to eat ever, or I'm gonna make you think those little smacks you got before this were love pats from your favorite uncle." Hoover gave a terrified little yelp around my dick, and squirmed on his knees, shooting fearful glances up at me and then returning his gaze to the small dancing blue flame. "You suck cock like you like it," I said. "You don't make your daddy do the work, you little whore. We'll fuck your mouth if we feel like it, but unless we do, it's your job to get us off. You may have noticed Mike hasn't touched your little dick or balls, and that's because we don't care about 'em and you don't need 'em to be our little girl 3; so you better make me happy, or I'll burn your little dick right off for you." Hoover moaned in obvious terror around my dick and after a second, I felt a small tongue tentatively start to lick around the underside of my glans. "Yeah," I told him, "that's good, but swirl it around 3; move it up and down the underside 3; yeah 3; now swallow more of my dick 3;. take it deeper 3; I don't care if you choke, you learn to take it deep, you little whore 3;" I gave Hoover a remedial class on basic cocksucking technique for the next twenty minutes or so, then pulled out and raped his ass for him. His back door was at least well broken in; Mike has a much bigger cock than I do and I got up past Hoover's sphincter and into his asshole proper without much trouble. He just grunted when I got up him to the balls and started humping; compared to Mike's nine inches [23 cm], mine must have been a relief. He wasn't much of a dicksucker yet, but he was a pretty good fuck 3; he took his cornholing well, without crying or whining, and even humped his little hips back at me somewhat while I dicked him. I'd expected Punk to start howling and screaming when Mike started to stuff that massive schlong of his up Punk's ass, but I got a surprise. Punk gave Mike the kind of eager, dick slobbering knob job I'd gotten used to from him, and Mike couldn't stop complimenting me on how well I'd trained him, right up until he shot his load down Punk's throat and Punk easily took it all. But then, when Mike moved around behind Punk to mount his ass, Punk didn't say a word, just got up on his hands and knees, hung his head down, and shoved his ass up for Mike's use. What a good little hole he was; he made me proud of him. Punk did yelp quite a few times, and the tears started up in earnest as Mike crammed his big wang up Punk's back door, but he didn't try to resist or beg Mike to stop, and once Mike finally got buried in him to the balls, Punk actually moaned and then whimpered "Ohhhhhh fuh FUCK muh me, Unn Unca Muh Mike 3;" Over the next hour, everyone else showed up, with Fred and Mac rolling in in convoy, blowing their horns as they came up the road, and Pete showing up about ten minutes after them. Finally, Randall pulled in in his green and white Sheriff's car, got out, tipped his Smokey the Bear hat back on his head and took his sunglasses off as he looked around the front yard at all of us fucking various kids in various positions right out in the open. "Well, I guess the par-tay has started!" Randall yelled, and gave a whoop, as we all yelled back, in pretty high spirits. Randall opened the back door of the cop car and hauled out a little blonde kid who couldn't have been older than 8, and who was, like the rest of the boys there, naked except for a collar and leash. Randall dragged him over and tied him to the BLACK HOLE pole, while we all stopped humping, or just stood there and let our sluts suck on our wangs, as we stared in disbelief. "Yeah, I know," the local sheriff said, "he ain't a nigger, but he's pretty, ain't he? We took him out of a trailer park over in Dudley a few weeks ago 3; his daddy had him and three more just like him chained up in a shed out back a' the trailer, suckin' off everyone who had ten bucks to spare for twenty miles around. Me and Jeannie been puttin' him up until the State foster care can send a case worker around 3; and I hope they take their time, cuz what this little bitch can do to a man's dick oughtta be illegal in all 50 states." Randall chuckled. "Well, actually, it is, come to think of it." We heard a dog bark, and Randall smacked himself on the head. "Oh, yeah, almos' forgot," he said, grinning, walking back over to the cruiser and letting one of the police bloodhounds out of the back seat, too. "By the time this here holiday is over, these li'l girls can not only go inta the 'raped by truckers' chat rooms online, but they'll also be able to sign in and speak with some authority in the 'riding the knot' rooms, too." He patted the dog on the head as it looked around at all the young ass. "Ol' Boomtown here just loves human tail; he don't care if its male or female or how old it is. You'd be amazed what some nigger bank robber will tell you in a back room about where his buddies are and what they did with the loot, after ol' Boomtown gets done humpin the shit outta him for an hour or two." Shortly after that, the games began. We had basically two different sorts of contests that were traditions during 4th of July weekend. The first two concerned the fuckmeat 3; they got to compete for Best Blowjob Boy, and then, after that, for Best Ass Slut. Best Blowjob Boy they all wanted to win, because according to the rules, nobody could fuck the Best Blowjob Boy in the ass for the rest of the weekend except the guy who brought him. Every kid wanted to get that title for his very own 3; well, usually. Turned out this year's little blonde Black Hole, that we just called Hole, had been being fucked since he was 3 years old and didn't mind it at all. But the other five boys really wanted to get Best Blowjob Boy. Nobody wanted to be the Best Ass Slut, because that worked the same way 3; for the rest of the weekend, the Best Ass Slut would only get fucked in the ass, other than by his particular owner. The other contests were for us 3; who could cum the most on a slut's face, who could fuck the longest without cumming, and who had their slut best trained on arrival 3; that last one didn't involve actual sex, but instead was about making your particular fuckmeat crawl around and bark like a dog and do various gross and degrading things like drink piss and lick the other boys' asses for them and fuck themselves with whatever appropriate objects we had handy 3; beer bottles, pieces of kielbasa, wooden sticks. Since Randall had brought us a dog, we threw K9 sex into that competition as well. The winner of Best Trainer got to keep his own fuckmeat at the end of the weekend, and any other boy of his choice, which not only meant a fun trip back home, but could be lucrative as well, since you'd pick the best one (or second best, since yours was probably the best if you'd won Best Trainer) and we all knew places where you could sell a well trained, pretty young cock hole for a few thousand bucks on the black market. I wanted to win Best Trainer bad that year, because first, I wanted to keep Punk and take him home again to start his career as his family's, his school's, and his neighborhood's dick whore. However, I also wanted that cute little blonde of Randall's, not to sell, but to keep 3; I wanted him the second I laid eyes on him, and I wanted him even more after the first time I got sucked off by him. I loved Punk, but Hole had these sweet little blue eyes that he'd flutter up at you, looking so innocent as he sucked your dick, yet doing it with a better technique than a 30 year old Denver prostitute. We brought chairs out from the cabin and arranged them in a circle, then we all sat down back to back and let the fuckmeat show us which one could suck dick the best. Each boy got two minutes to blow a particular guy, then they had to move on to the one on the right. Each kid had a small notepad on a string around his neck; we'd grab it and write down our score as the kid blew us for his two minutes. Any kid who made someone cum within his two minutes got three extra points. That year's Princess was a cute 9 year old who made a pretty convincing girl, and Fred had her pretty well broken in by the time she got there, too. She sucked dick eagerly, like they all did, and her naturally long brown hair, which Fred had tied up in ribbons and bows, looked really sexy. But she didn't get me off, although I was getting close when time was called. Mac had obviously had to grab this year's Sweetheart when opportunity presented itself; she was pushing the age limit (nearly 13) and wasn't very cute, and he had to put a wig on her head to make her even remotely passable. Also, she was kind of chubby. But he'd done a reasonably good job on her, and personally, I thought she must have had some previous dicksucking experience, because she seemed to know what she was doing. She didn't get me off, either, but I enjoyed her little mouth. Hoover I'd already had, and he didn't get me off either, although his cocksucking was vastly improved from the one seminar I'd given him. Pete's Cookie Monster is traditionally the youngest contribution to the group 3; our first weekend, Pete brought his own 6 year old step son to share around, and he's tried to stay in that age range ever since 3; and this year's was no exception, a cute little 5 year old Pete had lured out of the men's room at a rest stop somewhere in Oregon and gotten into his truck before his parents had missed him. Everyone likes 'em young, of course, but the problem with 5 year olds is that generally, no matter how well you train them and how much they like it, they just can't suck dick very well, because their mouths are too small. Just looking down at that sweet little face, with its adorable brown eyes and tear stained cheeks and pretty pink lips wrapped around my cockhead, trying so hard to please me, expression all serious underneath that shock of brown hair, was nearly enough to make me cum 3; but not quite, and the kid's technique wasn't that great. I gave him a 4 and he rotated onward. Then Hole was looking up at me with those big, strangely innocent blue eyes as he started to suck my dick, and I was in love. He never took his eyes off mine as he slowly swallowed up my entire length, rubbing his tongue expertly on the underside of my dick and making the cutest little grunting sounds as he blew me 3; sort of 'nmm nmmm nmmm', as if this was a job he took very seriously, and he was completely focused on doing it the very best he could. He did get me off in his mouth within his two minutes, and swallowed every drop and made it look like he loved doing it, too, and I had to give him a perfect 10 3; and I just knew if he'd blown everyone else that well, I wasn't going to get Best Trainer, plus, his ass was going to be off limits for the rest of the weekend, which seemed like a shame. Much to my surprise, though, it turned out Punk had managed to get Randall, Mac, and Pete off in his mouth in his two minutes with each, and that actually gave him a better total score than Hole. So he became Best Blowjob Boy, which saved him from a real ass reaming that weekend. Then we put the kids on their knees in the chairs, grasping the chair backs, and took three minute turns in each of their asses, recording scores the same way. (You need the extra minute, generally, just to get fully inside a young boy who hasn't been used much.) Most likely Hole should have won that contest, because his ass was so well broken in you could just slide up into it like it was a cunt, and he could squeeze his little hole on you like it was a fist, too. But nobody wanted Hole's mouth to be off limits, so we lowballed him and Hoover wound up winning Best Ass Slut 3; which was kind of ironic, since Mike picked the name our first weekend due to the fact that the kid he'd brought had loved to suck dick and had had a mouth on him like a vacuum cleaner. The way the rotation worked, I'd gotten Cookie Monster last, and had just gotten my dick up inside his ass (he was still damned tight, despite the fact that five guys had screwed him for three minutes each right before me) so I gave him a low score, and then just kept humping away after time was called. But pretty much everyone did that at the end of the Best Ass Slut contest; you finished up in whichever boy you were humping at the time. Cookie Monster was crying and had been since he'd taken his first dick up his ass for the day about twenty minutes before, and I liked that, so I had a good cum in him after about five minutes of deep fucking. Then we all wanted to see someone do the dog, so we put off the other contests and let Boomtown go to work. Poor Cookie Monster lost the draw and got to get on his hands and knees and take the first K9 raping of the weekend. I guess my cum in his ass helped Boomtown get in, but Cookie Monster was screaming pretty good as the bloodhound humped away at his five year old hole. I'd grabbed Princess while everyone was milling around getting set up for the dog show, and she was sucking me off while I watched Cookie Monster take his dog dicking. Princess seemed pretty happy to be blowing me and not getting fucked by Boomtown and she was obviously trying to do the best job on my cock she could. Randall and Mac were taking Hole at both ends, Randall in his butt and Mac getting a knob job from the cute little 8 year old veteran cock slut. As a general rule, Hole rarely had a hole free for the bulk of the weekend; if someone was up his ass, someone else would be doing his mouth, and vice versa. He was a high demand fuck baby. Pete was getting blown by Punk, who was obviously enjoying his work, and Mike was fucking Sweetheart in the ass, just doing a slow hump in and out of her while watching Cookie Monster get butt banged by a blood hound. Sweetheart's wig had come off as she 3; well, obviously now, he 3; stayed on his hands and knees and pushed back against Mike's big dick, grunting in his throat and obviously trying to do his best to give Mike a good fuck. The bright red lipstick and mascara on Sweeteheart's obviously male face made an interesting contrast, as he groaned and humped back into Mike's slow pumping rhythm. I could type on and on about the weekend for days 3; I could tell you about the poker game where Randall ran out of money and then tried to bet his ugly ass wife and we wouldn't let him, so he had to bet a blowjob of his own, and lost, and had to suck off Mike, who won, which Mike really enjoyed, because like all truckers, he hates cops. (None of us really like Randall, but as long as he's invited to our parties, we know we won't have any trouble at all with local law enforcement, and he does bring some of the most interesting contributions. Turns out he can suck a mean dick, too.) Or I could tell you about how Hoover discovered he really liked sucking dog dick, and he wound up blowing Boomtown pretty much any time no one else was using either one of them. Or about how I woke up Sunday night and found Punk sucking my cock, which wasn't unusual, but then he climbed on board and slid his ass down over my slobbered up hard on with a little grunt and said "Yeah, fuck me, daddy", which was. Or about how Princess and Punk teamed up on me all day on Monday, trading off kissing me and blowing me, or kissing me and shoving their asses down on my hard on, or making out with each other or 69ing with each other while they were laying on top of me, and I didn't even get off my bunk until about four o'clock that afternoon, when four of the guys had already packed up and left. I could tell you about each boy's individual reaction to getting fucked by a dog (Sweetheart was the only one who really liked it, but Sweetheart really enjoyed attention and would do anything to get it). I could tell you how Princess and Punk stayed under the table all day Sunday while we played poker and just sucked cock all day long, moving from one person to the next, and how they must have both swallowed a gallon of cum that day, or how Mike got aggravated with Cookie Monster because he just wouldn't stop crying whenever someone fucked him, so he cashed out of the poker game and fucked the five year old four times over the next two hours, forcing Cookie Monster to clean his cock off and suck him hard again in between each fuck. In the end, though, I did get Best Trainer, because everyone was so impressed with how well I'd taught Punk since grabbing him off the street. And I didn't pick Hole after all, instead, I took Princess home with me, and she and Punk are still trading off which one of them sleeps in the big bed with me, and which one sleeps on the floor 3; but that's a whole different story. Although I will say, thank God for home schooling 3; and for now, I'll just leave it at that. The End |