LARRY AND MOE

BY GRACCHUS

[ part 3 ]

Note: this is a work of fiction. The author does not condone the torture or abuse of any person

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 swimming team (Morris known for his speed, Larry for his endurance).

They were twelve years old. Their birthdays were in the same month. They were slender, of a height, Larry with lighter blond hair and Morris, or Moe, with his darker brown hair. They could have been brothers.

After their captivity and torture, they find themselves wandering, naked, sore, bruised, even bleeding a little, in the cold night walking toward their homes, apparently released. Their circumsized peckers and hairless balls were shriveled in the cold, neither boy deigned to speak.

* * *

Moe approached his house; no, it was Larry's house. Dark. No lights on. Why had they come here first, when his house was closer? Never mind, his feet were cold on the hard smooth ground. He looked at Larry who had walked a few steps ahead. Larry was wearing his favorite t-shirt and jeans and . . .

"Larry! Where did you get clothes!" Morris asked.

His friend turned, not a mark on him now. "I always wear clothes. You don't think I'm going to come out here without clothes do you? Like you?" And Larry began laughing.

Moe jerked awake. He was cold, naked, bruised ... and his hands were bound behind his back, wrists crossed, with something, a rope or cord or maybe tape or one of those nasty plastic things. Larry was asleep on the floor next to him, in similar condition. It had been a dream. Oh no!

Moe began to sob quietly. He wanted his clothes. He wanted his hands! And then a soft noise, and some light as a door opened.

Moe blinked as he looked, not believing what he was seeing. Entering the room, almost timidly, was a girl. She was perhaps his age, perhaps younger. She had short dark hair, just over her ears. She was very slender, wearing stretchy shorts of some sort that left her waist and thighs bare, and a sleeveless top that was short, exposing her abdomen and midriff. He could see the outline of her small boobs as she stepped aside in the light of the open door, and behind her was another girl. This girl was about the same age, probably a year younger, wearing a short sleeveless dress. A very short dress. She had reddish hair, he could see as she entered, her boobs mere bumps on the front of the tight short dress, her hair almost to her shoulders.

He sat up, forgetting his nudity. Had Lord Rick and Lady Rikki captured two girls? They entered swiftly and quietly and closed the door, plunging the room into relative darkness, the light from a small glowing yellowish disk on the side of the wall being the only light in the room.

The girls kneeled next to Morris, one on each side, one putting a finger on his lips. "Shhhhh," she said. "Don't talk. We're here to help you."

Morris was full of questions and realized, or was reminded, that he was naked with his hands bound behind him when the older girl, probably his own age, leaned over him and pressed his chest back to the floor. The second girl handed the first girl something, perhaps the size of a cereal bowl.

"See," the first girl instructed the second, "he can't do anything with his hands behind him." And she began rubbing gently some cream into the scratches on Moe's chest.

The second girl looked at him. "Are you sure?" She looked him over. "He's all beat up," she observed. Both girls were speaking only in about a whisper.

Moe tried to ask a question, wanted to know their names, wanted them to cover him at least a little. Larry however, awakened, said: "Who are you?"

"Ssshhhhhh!" both girls said. "Be quiet."

They boys obeyed, barely staying their curiosity. The dark haired girl motioned for the boys to get closer, laying side by side, about six or seven feet apart, the bowl between them. "You take him," she said to the red-haired girl. To the boys' embarassment, the girls began rubbing the soothing cream into their scratches and cuts, giggling a bit, and warning the boys that they would be punished if they awakened the Lord and Lady of the house.

It didn't take long for them to start playing with the boys' peckers and balls. It was as if it were a reward for putting the medication on the boys. They pushed the helpless boys back, commenting about how they were "pretty" and "cute" and so helpless with their hands behind them. The dark-haired girl thought that Larry's butt was particularly cute.

The boys, threatened with ball gags and with having their scrotums struck or twisted, remained silent. Both boys, despite their embarassment and pain, achieved erections, and the girls discussed them, whispering, giggling a bit, as the older showed the younger how to control a boy by holding his balls.

Then they each kissed the boys briefly, taking turns, so that each girl kissed each boy, and slipped out.

The boys looked at each other. They talked for a few moments, in whispers, and tried to untie each other's hands, to no avail since they were fastened, each behind each boy, in plastic. The boys eventually fell asleep.

* * *

Moe again dreamed that he was standing naked, in front of his class at school, while the teacher, Mrs. Howard, chastised him for leaving his homework and his clothes at home. The dream shifted to his being tied up naked on the playground while boys and girls danced around him and poked sticks and fingers at his 'nads.

He woke up. Larry, too, had been dreaming, but dreaming of the little red-haired girl who so lovingly caressed his young body as he lay naked and bound ...

The boys had slept soundly for a night and a day and part of a night, the medicine in the cream helping them sleep and heal. There were hardly any bruises or scratches or red marks on the smooth young bodies as they were led, by Lord Rick and Lady Rikki, naked, hands behind them, to a place where they could pee. Both boys were hungry and very very thirsty. Both were very curious about the girls. Neither dared speak.

The adults spoke little, and then to each other, as each took a boy, Lord Rick taking, as usual, his blonde boy Larry and Lady Rikki taking the darker-haired Morris. The boys sobbed as they were taken apart, into separate rooms.

Larry's balls were soon tied, at the base, with some kind of string. He cried because he knew that it made them easier to hurt, and persistantly uncomfortable, a reminder that he was at the man's mercy.

The man soon had Larry bound, hands behind him as always, always behind him, arms pulled back and bound at the elbows, a rope tether from the elbows to a ring overhead. Larry could move only a few steps in any direction. The man took off his shirt. "Which girl got to take care of you last night?" the man asked casually, then frowned demanding an answer.

"I-I-I- I didn't learn their names . . ."

"Which girl!" The man demanded, twisting Larry's right nipple.

"Ohhhhhh! The red haired girl!" Larry cried.

"She got to wear clothes. You had to be naked," Lord Rick went on. "She had her hands free, and you had to stay tied up," he said, almost teasingly. "But she made your skin nice and smooth again ... at least for a little while.

Over the next hour, Larry screamed, jerked, tried to run, tried desperately to get his hands in front of him, held by the rope that bound his elbows together behind him, sometimes falling and hanging by them, sometimes able to get to his feet on his own and sometimes with the man's help. The man, with a long rod with a forked end, was shocking the boy with electricity. Poor Larry screamed, unable not to, jerking every time, screamed and cried so hard he could hardly catch his breath, another form or torture. His naked body jerked and pulled and finally he was left, hanging by his bound elbows behind him, on his knees, wrists bound as well, sobbing and barely conscious.

Morris on the other hand fared little better. Lady Rikki laid him on his back on some kind of old bed, his ankles tied apart to the bedposts, laying on his bound wrists, each arm just above the elbow tied with a rope going from each arm out to the edge of the matress and down to the frame. The boy could look up, but could not sit or turn over as he lay on his hands, more or less comfortably crossed and bound at the small of his back. She was standing over him with a stick.

"Did you like the girls we sent to you last night?" she asked. "Well, did you?"

"Y - y - yes ... they ... put feel-good stuff on me," he said.

"Which girl got you?"

"The ... the taller one."

"Did she give you a stiffy?"

"No," Morris lied.

"Liar," she accused him, as he worried that the girls might have reported every move. But she just kissed his chest and stood up. She was wearing shoes that made her long legs even look longer, her dark hair pulled back into a wavy pony-tail today, her black short tight dress showing a lot of cleavage.

"Now, just for looking at my boobs ... I saw you looking, you naughty boy, you shouldn't stare like that ... you are going to be punished," she said as she reached into a drawer.

"No, please, no more! Please! I'll do anything, ANYTHING!"

But she took a small stick and began sharply tapping his balls with it, persistant tapping as he was unable to avoid the torment, crying, his stomach churning though it was empty, crying, pleading, his nuts aching terribly. He twisted and turned but of course could not avoid it. She was also hitting his pecker until she stopped and put a piece of tape across it, taping the pesky thing to his lower tummy, pointing at his belly button, like it did when it got hard.

And she continued thapping his balls with the stick til he thought he would puke.

* * *

The boys were cold, their teeth chattering, their bodies shaking so hard that their muscles ached.

Naked and with their hands fastened behind their backs, always behind, they stood neck-deep in what could be described as an aquarium. The container was perhaps five feet tall, glass all the way around, and perhaps three feet by four feet in its floor dimensions. The water in which they stood was cold; in fact, ice was floating around their chins, crushed ice like the kind you get from the store in plastic bags.

"At least they're not thirsty anymore," Lord Rick commented. He sat in a chair next to Lady Rikki's, both of them drinking coffee from cups. The little girls stood, one on each side, ready to pour more coffee from a container or to serve cream or sugar.

The boys tried to hide themselves from the girls, embarassed, at first, but the cold made them forget all thoughts of modesty. The girls had been introduced: the dark haired one in the tight shorts and cropped top was Sara, just turned twelve. Penny, the red-haired girl in the thin short dress, was eleven.

Lady Rikki teased the boys: "Well, at least you are not bruised and bleeding. Would you like to come out? How about if the girls dry you off and hug you to keep you warm? Maybe we should let the girls spank them, since they've been so good, what do you think, Lord Rick?"

So finally the freezing chattering shivering boys were removed from the tank, dried (which didn't warm them any since the room air was quite chilly), and each boy was tied to a pole by his wrists, elbows, and knees. At least Larry's nuts weren't tied this time.

"Girls get to wear clothes, boys don't," Sara commented.

"Boys have to stay tied up, girls don't," Penny observed.

"I like boys with their clothes off," Sara said, looking at Morris.

"I like boys tied up," Penny opined.

The girls looked at each other and said, almost in unison, "I like boys tied up naked!"

The boys could not speak. They shivered so hard their muscles ached. The girls, each taking the boy she'd taken earlier, Sara taking Morris and Penny taking Larry, stroked their bodies and skin and finally started hugging a little and kissing. The grownups urged them on.

"Come on, they are freezing. You can be nice to them a little and make them warm just a little bit."

"I'll let your spank them if you can make them hard," Lord Rick said. He was of course staring at Lady Rikki's cleavage and Lady Rikki was reaching over to run her hands over Rick's muscular bare chest.

But the girls, predictably, were unable to make the boys hard, and had to go to their rooms, looking over their shoulders one last time. Morris wondered if the girls were related to Rick and Rikki, or if they had been prisoners as he and Larry were. Would they one day be allowed to walk around, wearing at least some clothes?

"We must soon make our decisions," Lady Rikki said, placing her cup on the tray that Penny held.

"Yes. Let us finish the day's activities," the man replied, standing. They dismissed the girls and approached the frightened weeping shivering shaking teeth-chattering bound helpless naked boys.

* * *

The boys stood again in the "torture chamber", as Larry called it. Finally, their hands were not behind them, though they were just as helpless. Each boy had been stretched between two poles, the poles with the eyebolts through them at various intervals, and tied tightly spread out. The girls were allowed to walk all around them, touching their private parts and their "cute butts," as both girls agreed, though no agreement was reached over which boy's butt was cutest.

Their balls were tied up of course, this time with rubber bands which the boys couldn't remove.

The boys were crying. The adults were walking around them, comparing notes and discussing a few things the boys could not hear. The girls were allowed to flick their balls, delighted at the responses they got.

Finally the man picked up what appeared to be a pair of pliers. He approached Morris, stroked his cheek, stroked his chest. The woman walked over to Larry, kissed his cheek, and said:

"We'll keep Larry. Morris will be sold."

The boys cried more at that, mostly because now, with no clothes, no freedom, completely captive and with no hope of escape, all they had was each other; now that would be taken away. Morris was untied and his hands re-tied behind his back and led away by the girls who took him to a room where he would be tied up. They were given permission to play with him. Poor Larry looked at the pliers. Then at the man. The man put the pliers around the index finger of Larry's left hand and twisted. Larry screamed and jerked as the finger was broken and dislocated. After fifteen minutes, Lady Rikki approached him, and there were more screams as she crippled the index finger of his right hand. The naked boy jerked around more, looking at his hands, knowing there would be no way he could do anything with his hands if they broke any more fingers.

And over the next hour, both thumbs and both ring fingers were broken and dislocated, crippling the hands of the poor slave boy. The right middle finger and the left pinky finger alone were left undamaged, as if that did any good to the boy's mangled hands, hands that, as the man reminded him, would only serve to be something at the ends of the arms to tie, tape, or handcuff.

* * *

Morris, unaware of the sounds from the other part of the building, lay on the carpet, hands bound behind him, a hand on his balls reminding him not to move as one girl held his balls while the other one kissed his lips, face, and chest. The girls were taking turns with him, only kissing and hugging, the girls still wearing their brief clothes.

As instructed, the girls finally managed to give Morris an erection, and then left him bound and naked as they went to their own quarters. Morris wept, not knowing what they meant by selling him but certain it would not be pleasant.

* * *

Larry screamed louder as long carpenter's nails were driven into the tops of his feet, and out the soles, carefully between the second and third metatarsal bones. He could barely put any weight on them. When the nails were removed, his feet were lifted, one at a time, behind him, his arms still tied apart overhead, fingers mangled, as the wounds were cauterized with a hot iron of some sort, electric, like a soldering iron. Four wounds in all. Three blood-curtling screams ... he passed out on the fourth.

An hour later, Larry stood with his aching throbbing hands again bound behind him, elbows also bound, his arms pulled by the wrists overhead as he was forced to bend over in the strappado-type bondage, legs held apart by a pole fastened between his ankles. Lady Rikki was working a large dildo in his rectum, the boy crying and pleading and managing to remain conscious. The second dildo was bigger than the first, but smaller than the third. She mentioned something about stretching his asshole until Lord Rick could put his whole hand inside. The saw-toothed clamps on the boy's tiny nipples certainly didn't help matters much.

"Maybe we'll cut off the nipples, what do you think?" Rick asked.

"I don't know ... they might come in handy. Maybe we'll just burn them."

"Burn them off?"

"I don't think so. He can keep them for awhile. But it's agreed we'll shave his head."

Larry cried more. After all that, to be shaved too? Bald? No!

But he was in no position to offer any resistance or disagreement.

"I guess we should pin his penis now, though."

"Yes, let's get him down ... he's about to pass out again anyway.

Some time later the boy awoke with a terrible ache ... not his balls this time, his pecker. When he could focus his eyes, he looked and cried: a thin shiny steel rod with little loops on the ends had pierced his penis, just behind the head, above the little pee-tube that ran along the bottom. He barely understood when they told him his pecker would never get hard again, and that the rings on the sides of it would make a good place to attach weights, a leash, or whatever they wanted.

The boy's ears were pierced as well, and fitted with loop earrings, seemingly without any clasp or opening; in fact, they would have to be cut to remove them, or the ear would have to be torn. The rings, about half-inch in diameter, would also make good handles for attaching leashes, restraints, and so forth, it was explained.

Our story ends here. There's not much to tell. Lady Rikki and Lord Rick had their two pets, Sara and Penny, and their torture toy, Larry, who endured pain and humiliation daily, his biological needs being met to sustain life and a semblance of health. The boy was raped repeatedly over the next two years, his helplessly crippled body at the mercy of his captors. He could never get an erection again; however, he learned to perform cunnilingus on the girls, to reward the pets for particularly good behaviour.

Morris was sold and transported to some foreign country where he was kept, naked and usually bound, the great prize and favored possession of some wealthy European who forced him to learn Romanian, but of course the boy spoke with his trophy American accent and the man carefully kept the boy's trophy American body in slim trim good shape.

Neither boy dreamed of home again.