LARRY AND MOE

BY GRACCHUS

[ part 1 ]

The author does not condone violence or torture of any person. This is a work of fantasy only.

Larry and Morris were best friends. They studied together, spent the night at each others' house, had the same classes, and were on the same middle-school swimming team (Morris known for his speed, Larry for his endurance).

They were twelve years old. Their birthdays were in the same month.

Both boys were slim and lean, their chests developing nicely from the athletics. Morris, whose friends called him "Moe", was perhaps half an inch taller than Larry. Larry had blonde hair, rather wavy, while Moe's dark brown hair was rather shaggy most of the time, defying the efforts of a comb. Both had blue eyes, which their mothers said made them look like brothers.

All they required was a third friend to call "Curly" and they could be the three stooges.

Yes, the two were classic slim smooth-bodied youthful boys, and you could tell easily since both boys were naked.

Lured to a vacant house at the end of a dead-end street by a note from Ellie Kitchen, the school's reputed 8th grade whore (and judging by the short skirts, braless tops, tight jeans with waistbands at the top of the butt-crack, that sometimes got her sent home from school, they believed at least part of it) who, it was said, had a different date every night, the boys anticipated seeing her in her undies ... or less ...and maybe getting a kiss or to feel her wonderful knockers. She was 14, should have been in the 9th grade but was held back a year. She would have been held back two years had she not given a blow-job to her grade school principal, but the boys didn't know this.

But when they got there, there was no Ellie. Just a man who, at knifepoint, forced them to strip naked. The twelve year old boys were then tied together, face-to-face, and put in a sack in the back of a van.

An hour later, Morris and Larry had been dumped onto a tile floor in a large windowless room. They were still naked and their hands were still tied behind their backs with some very sticky silver tape, but they were untied from each other and made to stand.

The man who brought them left as quickly as he came. In front of them were two adults: a man and a woman.

The man was probably over six feet tall. He was rather slim, but not skinny, and might have been 30 years old. The woman, closer to fourty, bore a striking resemblance to the woman who played "The Nanny" on TV, the actress Fran Drescher, though neither boy could remember the actress's name. Tall with dark curly hair in abundance, wearing a short low-cut dress, she spoke first.

She certainly didn't sound like "the Nanny" on TV ... didn't have that twangy silly accent.

"Well well, how wonderful. Are the two of you brothers?"

"Please, where are our clothes! We need our clothes!"

"Silence!" the man, speaking with a Spanish or perhaps Italian accent, demanded, his deep voice booming in the windowless room. "Answer the question or I'll hurt you!"

"Are you brothers?" the woman asked again. The boys shook their heads no, Morris shedding the first tear of fear.

"Who is older?"

Morris moved his bound arms, and Larry, his hands behind him, turned sideways a bit and pointed to Morris. Through tears the boys were able, when asked, to explain that they were both twelve, but that Morris was a couple of weeks older.

"Well, you get the blonde, Rick," the woman decided. Apparently, the man was to take the younger of the two, to prevent argument. But as far as either could tell, aside from their hair color, there wasn't a speck's worth of difference between them.

"Do what you are told, don't argue, and don't resist," the man instructed both boys, and then led Larry, looking over his shoulder, away. Morris thought it was a strange sight, a naked boy with his hands taped behind him, being led away by a man. In a moment, the woman took him by the arm.

Now, the boys, playing games, had on occasion tied each other up, usually not very tightly and usually able to free themselves quickly (as parents were universally opposed to anything like a tie up game). Both knew what a disadvantage you were in with your hands behind you. But this was much worse. They couldn't free their hands and, of course, they were naked. Even worse, neither boy knew where the clothes were!

* * *

Larry, with the man who insisted on being called "Lord Rick", was sobbing openly now as the man ran his hands over the boy's naked body. Both boys were circumsized, like most modern American boys. The man seemed a bit disappointed, or at least was disappointed with the boy's 12-year-old boy-sized dick. The boy tried to talk several times and was shut up by a stern look from the man, and once by a slap. The man tore the tape from the boy's wrist, to replace it with some little locking chain devices which held his wrists not only behind his back, but pulled up between his shoulder blades and locked to a collar, which was around his neck.

Larry's heart sank when he realized the complete helplessness of this arm-bondage. He couldn't reach anything of importance, couldn't cover any part of his body except his upper back, and his arms were already beginning to cramp, until he learned to relax them and pull his elbows closer to keep from choking.

"What's your name?" the man demanded.

"Larry," the boy replied through his tears.

"You are mine. Naked. No escape. And I have your balls," the man said, grabbing the boy's small but still distinct nutsack. The boy howled in pain, even though the man didn't squeeze very hard, and howled more when, out of reflex, he tried to pull back, jerking his nads even more.

* * *

Morris stood naked before "Lady Rikki", as she introduced herself. She spoke with what sounded like a Russian accent, though it might be fake. Still sounded like a Russian woman from TV though. Morris was red-faced and doing his best to stand straight, as directed, and not bend over to hide his private bits.

Lady Rikki walked closer to him, stroking his chest. She wore a low-cut short dress that fit rather snugly. She bent over to look at his face, to get a better look at his tears, and he glanced down the front of her dress. She noticed but instead kissed his cheek, stroking his arm and then his chest and then his hip.

"You are very pretty. Good looking boy. I like young boys. Not hairy like Lord Rick. Smooth. Pretty soft young skin." She was stroking him and eventually got to his cock.

"How often do you jack off?" she asked. He was afraid not to answer and instead shrugged. "Every day?" she asked. He nodded, trying not to cry. But now she was so close to him and when she put her arms around him his face was right in her cleavage. She kissed his hair again and then his cheek and then squatted and kissed his chest, purring about a nice young boy with his shirt off ... and poor Moe got a hard on right then and there.

Lady Rikki smiled. "We are going to have lots of fun together."

Lady Rikki tied Morris's ankles with rope so that she could peel loose the tape on the boy's wrists. She was telling him that there would be no way for him to escape, especially naked, and answered the earlier question by saying that the clothes of both boys had been burned in an incinerator.

She fastened a pair of handcuffs to his wrists and got another pair and locked his arms back, just above the elbows, almost touching. Moe realized the helplessness of the situation and also that he was not going to be able to find a knife, piece of glass, or sharp rock to get his arms freed.

A thin black cord, a little thicker than kite twine, was then brought to Moe's little nut sack. Lady Rikki reminded him of where he was, and where his arms were, and persuaded him to hold still, though he was shaking in fear. She tied the twine-like cord around the top of his nutsack, snugly, wrapping it around several times, knotting it on the underside in the back.

"You should know that when your skin is tight over your little balls ... oh what sweet little balls you have ... that they are very sensitive and tender, even more than a boy's usually are." She flicked his nuts, not hard, but he bent over, it stinging and hurting and not going away quickly. Finally she said he was helpless enough to rejoin the others, untied his legs, and led him back into the larger room.

* * *

Larry was already there, still naked, now his hands were chained behind him but held up almost to his neck by some chain thing around his neck. Larry could not speak; he had a red rubber ball in his mouth that wrapped around his head very tightly. He was crying. He was slobbering in front of the ball, as he could not swallow his own spit. It dripped onto his chest and onto the floor in front of him.

Larry also could not take more than one or two steps in any direction, his wrists, in the cuffs, were attached to a clip or snap-hook which was attached to a sturdy rope that ran up to one of several eyebolts in the ceiling.

The man was shirtless, rather muscular, his chest hairy. He held some kind of stick or rod in his hand.

Larry looked at Morris as he was brought in. Naked. Arms held back by handcuffs at his wrists and above his elbows. Something tied around his balls.

"My Lord Rick, would you please assist me?" she asked sweetly.

"Of course, My Lady," the man answered formally and walked over to where she was setting up some kind of small ladder. Rather than climbing the ladder, he held it steady for her so she could make her own preparations. She took, from the box on the table, a length of belt webbing, like used on rifle slings and roof rack straps, and attached it to one of the eyebolts over Morris's head. Letting it drop, it hit him on one shoulder. Morris was watching but put his eyes forward when the woman scowled at him.

The ladder replaced and Rick back with Larry, the woman fastened, with a metal clip, the end of the strap to the chain between Moe's elbows, not to the handcuffs as you might expect. Taking up the slack with the slide-buckles, like tightening a rifle sling, soon poor Moe could not take more than one or two steps in either direction.

Both methods, the adults agreed, were quite valid. No way could Moe reach the clip between his elbows when they were fastened together. No way could Larry reach any of his bindings, even if he had a key. It was a matter of personal preference. One strained the arms one way, one strained the shoulders another way. Both rendered the boy helpless.

"It's no fun to torture balls when the boy is bent over, is it, My Lady?"

"Certainly not, My Lord." she replied.

Larry moaned through his gag. It hurt his jaws. At least his legs were free, even if the rest of him was bound. The boy's soon were envying each other's bondage, sure that his own was the worst.

Moe was begging: "Lady Rikki, please, please, are you going to let us go? Please tell us want you want. Please?"

The woman told him to shut up. He dared not disobey, which made her very pleased with herself and even Lord Rick was smiling. One "shut up" made the boy obey, and he hadn't even been punished or injured yet.

Lady Rikki brought out a long rod. It was about like a fishing rod, thicker, white in color, with a fork like thing on the end. The handle, instead of a fishing reel, contained a box with a couple of knobs and/or buttons. She brought it over to her captive, the dark-haired Moe, who was ready do do anything for her.

Larry thought at least Moe gets to be with a woman, and a pretty one, too. He changed his mind when Morris began screaming, jerking, turning this way and that, the black strings hanging from his balls which Morris himself almost forgot.

The woman was zapping him with some kind of electric shocker, like a cattle prod. A real cattle prod, made for a very heavy animal, would probably have seriously damaged or killed a boy, but this one was modified, or manufactured to begin with, for use on humans.

The boy was screaming, crying ... desperately avoiding getting hit in the balls which he was sure would make him puke, shit, or die. She teased him well, letting him pretty much recover before hitting him again. Zap after zap, she tormented the naked boy, hitting him on the thighs or butt, making him dance and jerk and turn, til he was crying and almost hanging by his elbows.

"Please ..... not .... again ..... noooo! Please ..." the boy gasped as she let him catch his breath. Screams, when electricity is applied, were unavoidable.

Larry hoped he didn't puke but knew he was going to get something too. The woman laid down the shocking rod and began stroking Moe's chest and his nipples, rather lovingly, patting his butt and wiping his tears off his face. Then Larry felt it .... on the backs of his thighs.

"Thwack!" the stick hit him. He cried out around his gag as best he could. He could not speak, but was making noises with his mouth. The man had struck him with a flexible plastic rod, over three feet long, across both thighs in the back. It left red stripes. The woman, standing next to Moe, reached down to fondle her slave's bound balls, making the boy wince, as she watched.

"Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!" the stick hit poor Larry's thighs three more times, making him jump and dance around, his little hairless pecker and balls flopping. The boy was crying. Stripes were clearly visible on the backs of his thighs. Moe, even frightened and captive as he was, had expected his friend's butt to be the target.

The man was walking around Larry now. He swung. Larry tried to turn his backside away, but it hurt almost as much on the fronts of his thighs and before he realized it, the man could, and did, hit his balls. Moe winced. Larry cried and nearly fell, hanging by his wrists between his shoulder blades. The woman simply grabbed Moe's bound little ball sack and shook it around, which hurt Morris considerably as his balls were still tied.

Larry could breathe through the hole in the ball that was strapped into his mouth, in addition to his nose, a safety precaution for one so young, and was puffing for all he was worth. The man hit him several more times and finally stopped, as Larry's thighs, buttocks, and lower back were covered in red stripes. None appeared to be bleeding.

Moe had started begging again. "Please, please Lady Rikki, please let us go."

The woman stepped back and smacked the boy across the face twice, making him cry again. "You'll go nowhere. Besides, you can't run away naked. Your clothes are all gone, so shut up or I'll ball-gag you like your friend."

The man had put aside the stick and was fondling Larry's balls and dick, standing behind him, reaching around him, and not being very gentle. The woman unclipped the webbing from the chain between Moe's elbows and pushed him to a kneeling position on the floor.

"Time for some more fun," she said in her Russian-like accent. She pushed him to the floor, took another pair of handcuffs, and locked his ankles together with them. A few tugs later, she'd used a padlock to lock the two pairs of cuffs together, his ankles to his wrists, hogtied. No escape. The boy sobbed but didn't dare talk.

Meanwhile, Lord Rick had removed Larry's ballgag. Larry's jaw ached. He sobbed and cried but fortunately did not speak, as he was instructed. Apparently they permitted crying but not speaking. In fact, they seemed to enjoy it.

"My Lady," Rick said, "Will you assist me for a few moments with your lovely feminine charms?"

"Certainly, Lord Rick," she replied formally. Larry, his arms still folded and wrists still chained between his shoulder blades to the collar around his neck, still fastened by the chain overhead, stepped back one step--as far as he could under the circumstances--as the Lady approached. She knew what Rick wanted and began looking the boy over, with eyes and hands, touching and stroking his chest, nipples, dick, and balls.

"What a sweet little boy. Almost as nice as the one I have. I bet you'd like a kiss." And she kissed the boy's nipple, then his cheek, and then his lips very gently, realizing the boy probably had never been kissed by a woman or girl before. She made sure he could see down her low-cut top when she bent over. She even rubbed her cleavage against his chest when she kissed him on the neck, and hugged his face to her breasts.

Larry's hairless circumsized pecker was stiff in only a few moments, to his embarassment when she stepped back.

Morris, still on the cold floor, began to roll around a little, from side to side, trying to get comfortable. His legs, fastened together, along with the string on his balls, made his balls ache more.

When Lady Rikki was done, an even more red-faced Larry stood helplessly, with a boner. A stiffy. A hard on. Wood. He couldn't help it. It was, at his age, probably a reflex.

And Rick, using a thin piece of wood, began belaboring the boy's genitals with stinging swats. "Smack-smack-smack-smack-smack-smack-smack!" the stick, looking like a school ruler, swatted the pecker and the balls, the boy crying anew now and struggling in his chains, arms held helplessly.

The woman, in the meantime, had placed a pad of some sort next to her hog-tied, hog-chained captive and kneeled down on it, the dress riding up even more to expose more of her long legs. She had a small box. She opened it. She placed it near Moe's face. From it she took what looked like a little red pillow, except rounder, made of cloth, with lots of little metal balls all over it. She pulled one of the little metal balls to reveal that they weren't attached, merely the heads of pins. It was a pincushion.

"You are so pretty," she was telling Morris, as Larry wailed with more and more swats to his aching balls, almost losing consciousness and almost puking, "and you have such a pretty little boy-butt. It's so nice and smooth," she continued, stroking the boy's buns under his bound wrists and ankles.

"It would make a very nice pincushion, don't you think?"

The boy shook his head, not daring to speak, but the woman pushed pin after pin into the boy's posterior, into both cheeks, one at a time, the boy crying and desperately trying to move his hands. Oh, if he could only get his hands! They were numb now, he couldn't feel them, as his elbows were pulled back nearly touching, and he had the horrible thought that he'd never regain feeling in them and that he'd be a cripple, with hands that didn't work.

When all one hundred pins were pressed into the boy's cheeks, only a couple of them dripping blood, most of them pressed in only half their length, the woman called to the man again.

"Lord Rick, have you ever seen such a lovely pin-cushion?"

The man, in the meantime, had released his captive from the overhead chain, but had not released his arms. Larry was sobbing and had a vacant look in is face, as if he'd given up, until the man put him on his belly and bound his ankles together with rope. The boy's hands, still held to his shoulder blades in cuffs attached to a collar, wiggled slightly.

The man came over to look. "Yes, Lady Rikki, very nice. I might make a pincushion out of my yellow-haired slave."

"I shall need your assistance in a few moments, My Lord," she said, and he answered very formally that he would be at her service momentarily.

The man then came back, picking up yet another stick, lifting Larry's legs in his left hand, holding them by their bindings, and began flailing the stick at the bottoms of the boy's feet, shouting that the boy would not EVER be able to run away. Moe, sobbing, had not seen Larry try to escape, knew he couldn't, and guessed it was just a typical grownup ploy of accusing someone of already doing what they wanted to do.

Larry screamed as the stick hit the bottoms of his feet again and again, jerking his chained arms and even rolling from side to side a bit. His hardon was gone. His dick and balls were shriveled up as if he'd just got out of the swimming pool.

The man finally let the boy's legs fall and, leaving him on the floor, suggested a break. Larry, arms folded and chained, and Morris, arms cuffed back at the wrists and elbows and chained to his feet, were immobilized. Morris dare not roll around lest he push the pins in further, and she had warned him that if they were pushed in too far, she wouldn't be able to get them out without cutting his skin.

The break was for the grownups, not the boys. They walked, arm in arm, through a door and up some steps. Just as they were at the top of the steps, the woman shouted down, in her Russian-like accent, that the boys might converse if they were quiet.

Neither boy said anything for awhile. Both were too frightened and were crying too much. Eventually, it was Morris who broke the silence.

"Are you all right?"

"No, of course not, and neither are you," Larry managed to return.

"They're gonna torture us to death," Morris said again.

"Yeah, but it's gonna take a while. What can they do next?"

"Any thing they want to."

The boy's discussed, calming down quite a bit, how helpless they were, the feasability of escape (no chance identified), the pain they'd received, even speculating which of them was getting the worst of it. At least Larry could roll onto his side, though it hurt. Morris had mentioned that Larry might be able to scoot over to him and get the pins out, but Larry said it would take way too long even if he used his teeth, to get them all. Morris mentioned that if Larry could get close enough, he might be able to use his fingers to untie Larry's feet, but they were afraid to try it. Besides, Moe's fingers were numb and might not be strong enough to pull the knots, and Larry's feet were too sore to run on, even if he could find a way out and run, naked with his hands chained up to his neck behind him, in the cold. Neither boy had any idea where they were.

* * *

The adults had been gone for over an hour. When they returned, Lord Rick was still in his black pants and boots. Lady Rikki had changed. Larry wondered if they'd had sex together and decided they might have. Rikki was now wearing pants, tight red pants, and a tight red top with no sleeves, even lower cut that the dress she'd been wearing. It might have been spandex.

The woman wasn't perfect, but she was attractive. Tall, long legs, lots of curly dark hair. Neither boy could remember the actress Fran Drescher, the woman who played "The Nanny" on television, but both boys knew the show and both boys though she looked like that actress. Even if her voice wasn't that annoying squeeky accent. Lady Rikki, Morris though, sounded like she had a Russian accent. Lord Rick, on the other hand, had a Spanish or Italian-like accent. Morris wondered if they were fake.

Now, Morris was bawling again, shaking, unable to move at all. With Rick's help, the woman had attached a clip to the handcuffs and ankle cuffs, and with a stout rope and pully system, Morris was hanging by his wrists and ankles, still in the chained hogtie. His shoulders ached. His arms hurt. His hips hurt. The cuffs were biting on his wrists and ankles. His hands were still numb, as she'd not removed the elbow cuffs. His back hurt from being arched. And his balls were still tied.

Larry's arms were still held up between his shoulder blades, behind him, the cuffs chained to a collar, but he, too, was hanging. A metal pipe or pole of some sort, with chains attached at the ends, was holding his ankles about three feet apart. The ends also had ropes leading from where the ankles were attached up to the ceiling. Rick had enlisted Rikki's help in this, too, so both boys were suspended, one of them in excrutiating and unavoidable pain, the other upside down which was sure to give him a bad headache at best.

Larry hung, his backside to where the woman was playing with Morris. Stripes on his thighs and butt and lower back, arms still folded and immobile. As Morris slowly turned, he could get a look at his upside-down friend.

It occured to Morris that Larry was not as far off the ground as he was. Morris was just about neck height to the woman, as he could see her neck as he turned, slowly, hanging by his wrists & ankles, crying in pain, body aching.

Larry, on the other hand, though hanging more straight, had his head just about three feet off the ground. The man was grinning, holding some kind of stick with a black rubber thing on the end. He was wiping something on the black rubber part. What the man had was a dildo on a pole, and he was greasing it up.

Suddenly, Morris screamed out in pain, jerking, as much as he could, in his hanging hog-tie. Lady Rikki had just attached something to the string hanging from his poor balls.

He started to beg her to take it off but of course couldn't speak; a 1 1/2 inch diameter piece of hose, with a thin belt through it, had been buckled into his mouth, like a bit, only bigger, pulled far back into the corners of his mouth, buckled behind his head. Larry, this time, wasn't gagged.

Larry realized that something was going between his spread legs and began to kick and jerk, and cry, but to no avail. The man pushed, persistantly, the rubber dildo-on-a-stick, into the boy's butt, stretching it further even that the famous "log-turd" he'd produced in the school restroom back in September.

The boy screamed and jerked but the man began fucking him with the device, the boy hanging upside down, legs spread, arms immobilized, while toying, roughly, with the boy's exposed pecker and balls with the other hand. Watching carefully, he made sure the boy didn't pass out.

Morris couldn't see, since his back was arched, the plastic bottle of water that was hanging from his scrotum. He thought he'd puke. He couldn't pull any more on the chains to jerk; he had no strength left.

The woman, meanwhile, was carefully pouring, with a smaller bottle, water into the hanging bottle, increasing it's weight til she thought it was enough. Then she slid a chair under the boy, sat in it, and began to play with the boy's circumsized pecker, not thinking she could get it hard under the circumstances but wanting to torment the boy anyway.

She was also, by contrast, affectinately stroking Morris's chest and tummy, complementing him on his sweet young smooth slender boy-body, and his pretty butt, now devoid of the hated needles and the few droplets of blood cleaned off. She moved under him to gently nibble on his tiny nipples, licking them while playing with his penis. The boy could not make an intelligible sound through the bit-gag, and the woman teased that she should glue his mouth shut with super-glue.

Larry was getting, alternately, his genitals roughly fondled, then his buttcheeks smacked, while the man relentlessly fucked him with a rubber dick-on-a-stick. The man stopped, withdrew the implement, and lowered the boy slowly after the boy puked on the floor.

Shortly after, the water bottle hanging from Moe's balls was removed and the boy lowered, his bit gag removed, and rolling him on his side, the woman even carefully cut the string from his scrotum, freeing it for the first time in more hours than Morris could count.

The boys were given sips of water. The lady unlocked the padlock which held Moe's ankles and wrists together. Moe's back ached. All of him ached. The man removed the spreader bar from between Larry's sore feet. More sips of water, and the boys, with a little help from the medication in the water, fell asleep.

* * *

The boys woke up, Larry first and Morris a few minutes later, in a small room. Morris rubbed his poor balls and realized his arms were free! Larry, too was untied. Though both were still naked, at least they could move.

They whispered a few things, about where they hurt and how they might escape. Light came through a single square panel in the ceiling, through which Morris could see that Larry's stripes were almost gone. Indeed, they had been rubbed with some kind of medicated cream. There was even a pair of rugs on the wooden floor for them to sit on.

There was a noise at the door, making both of the boys jump, but it was just the bottom part of the door. A small trap door, like a door for a pet cat, was opened. Two cans of pop and two paper bags were inserted. They didn't even see the hands.

The boys carefully (neither realizing they had been earlier drugged) unwrapped the lunches: sandwiches with cheese and lettuce and mustard and sliced turkey, and some green grapes, the kind with no seed in them.

Shortly after that, Lord Rick came in. He stated in his Spanish-Italian-something accent that he would poke out the eyes of either boy if his instructions weren't obeyed immediately, warned both of them not to speak, and locked a chain around Larry's neck. He led Larry out, frightened and crying again, as Moe wondered what would happen to his friend, and whether he would get the same or different treatment.

But when Larry came back an hour later, still naked, and the chain was removed, Lord Rick locking it on the other boy's neck, Larry didn't seem any worse. He whispered "don't worry" to his friend, almost getting a thump from Lord Rick. An hour later, both boys had been fed, allowed to go to the bathroom, washed in warm water, and even their hair shampoo'd.

Each boy was given a thin blanket by Lady Rikki who said, "Good boys deserve a reward. We won't chain you up tonight."

The boys whispered and talked for awhile before falling asleep, each wrapped in his own blanket, each on his own little rug.