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From: Marc <marc0112@yahoo.com>
Subject: Punk Kids or Brent's Big Boner Chapter 13
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Resend for author due to format problem

----- Original Message ----- 
To: "ASSGM" <assgm@stump.algebra.com>
Sent: Monday, May 15, 2006 4:40 AM
Subject: Punk Kids or Brent's Big Boner Chapter 13







Forwarded for author Glaucon55@aol.com



Punk Kids: or Brent's Big Boner
October 16, 2005

Disclaimer:

If you are not yet 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of
this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story is for adults,
and contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys initiated
by them and with older men.  This story is completely fiction, all
descriptions and names are also made up, and any similarities are truly just
that, purely similarities.  I do not engage in or condone sexual activity
between adults and teenagers which is regulated by law.  These are fantasies
for sexual private sexual enjoyment, not for emulation in real life.

I have not had the opportunity to write a major story, with the exception of
one in collaboration with a colleague whose writing I admire.  My stories
are posted on Paulie's Personal Web Site and on ASSGM.com.  I would
appreciate comments on my writing which may be a bit rusty.  I certainly
admire the good writers on the web, and consider myself still a learner.
Please contact me at glaucon55@aol.com.

Chapter:  13  Copping a Feel

Johnny wanted to put Brent into a special scene, to see the big teenage Jock
servicing another male and in abject humiliation.  But which male? Trevor,
Darren, Father Richardson?  Well, the good Father Richardson provided him
with a perfect choice.  The bugged confessional produced one of the town's
finest in a most compromising situation.  Johnny began to wonder if every
straight male in town was dipping his bone into the priest's throat in
search of the cocksucking their wives and girl-friends would not, or could
not, provide.  Every male wants the feeling of a hot, wet mouth and slippery
tongue sliding over his fevered boner, but few were able to negotiate the
deal that would get them the object of their day dreams and wet dreams.  So
most of them just jerked off to the fantasy.  But Father Richardson was
clearly making a dent in the back-log of horny males in town.  No one could
have predicted, though, that one would be a police officer.  Officer Connor
Anderson's wife was 7 months pregnant with twins, and the horny cop had been
relegated to his fist since her fifth month.  Connor was only five foot,
eight inches tall.  At twenty-nine he was still in great shape, from the
tips of his size ten feet, to the top of his head with its thick blond hair.

In junior high and high school, Connor perfected his fuck stroke, grinding
his unusually thick five and a half-inch prick into his sheets, an old gym
towel, and an old gym sock, as often as he could.  Every night, and most
mornings, he would fuck the bed, driving his sensitive prick knob into the
material, occasionally adding to his own copious pre-cum by adding hand
lotion from a bottle in his night stand.  As he was approaching ejaculation,
he would get up on his knees slightly and grind and drive his penis into the
wet, clinging material, allowing the soft fibers to graze and grip his
over-sized glans and tickle it mercilessly.  From behind, his hairy ass
pucker would wink with each driving thrust, exposing the ragged cleft in the
wet, dank trough of thick tangled hair.  God he loved it, the soft scrubbing
added to his aggressive, hard driving of his pelvis, to bang as hard has he
could.

When he met Ginny, after she showed him the wonders of a blow job, he showed
her how good a long, sustained fuck could be.  He would bring her to orgasms
two three times before he shot his thick load, and he reveled in the chance
to screw her deeply and long, her clinging cunt milking his helplessly horny
boy dick.

But before he met Ginny, Connor had learned that there were other ways to
satisfy his insatiable need to ejaculate.  At first he had prayed that he
could overcome the lust that raged through his beautiful body and
all-American good looks.  No one knew how his cock tingled in the back of
the classrooms, and how his hand stole down his pants pocket to stroke the
itchy knob that would not stop pulsing.  But those efforts were simply not
enough to quell the fire that burned in his testicles.  After a football
game when he was sixteen, a buddy who was another back-up player on the
team, took him out to a party where they got drunk.  He was plastered when
they left, and as horny as when they arrived.  He awoke sometime later, the
car was pulled over on some side-road and his pants and briefs were at his
ankles. His buddy was sucking on the fat knob of his prick, swirling his
tongue around it, suckling just below the corona making his ass bounce
uncontrollably.  He tried to push his buddy off, but it felt so fucking good
his legs seemed to spread on their own even as he struggled. His buddy, the
back-up place-kicker on the team, was holding his nuts with one hand, his
index finger tickling the hairy pucker of Connor's asshole, and the other
hand was up under his shirt, scratching and pinching his hard tits.  He
couldn't focus, except to let the fingers and mouth that were plying his
body take control and relieve his full balls.  Yeah, it felt so good, he
slid down on the car seat, still drunk and his head spinning, and let the
punk bathe his prick head in spit, his tongue lashing and licking the
bulging glans, filling his mouth with his unusual size, leaking and pulsing.
The worrying fingetip at this anus made him grind his ass and writhe on the
seat, and within minutes, he let the incredible sensation of the hot mouth
drag him over the edge, grunting and groaning as he unloaded ropes of thick
teen scum into the siphoning mouth of his buddy.  That night, they said
nothing to each other when they departed company.  They were drunk…shit
happens.  But that night, as Connor tossed on his bed, his cock again hard,
his dreams recalling the hot, wet, suction on his prick head, he knew that
he could not resist the temptation and the opportunity to get sucked
whenever he could.

Connor confronted his buddy the next day-slamming the boy into the
field-house lockers when everyone was gone, then pushing the boy to his
knees and making him kiss Connor's bulging crotch---ordered him to sniff and
rub his face in it.  For the rest of high school, if he needed to get his
rocks off, he would make the punk cocksucker take him for a drive, then take
his load---sometimes getting a full body tongue bath and whatever else he
wanted.  No one knew because his buddy was both humiliated and horny for
Connor's body.  Connor would make the kid masturbate after he would suck him
off, and lick up his own cum as his dues for having the privilege of
servicing Connor's perfect body and thick cock.  Other times he would make
the kid grovel at his feet, forcing him to unlace his sneakers with his
teeth, lick and suck his asshole, and suck his long, thick toes.  It was
great, getting the kind of attention to his body that he could not expect
Ginny to give.

That was years ago, now he was married, he had left those deliciously
raunchy days behind when he could get his buddy to suck him two or even
three times a day on occasion.   Now, without sex with Ginny for two months,
and only his fist to rely on in the toilet or in the shower, he was going
stir crazy.  He needed his cock worked in someone's mouth, deep in some
tight hole, or milked in a lubricated fist---just not his own.  He was
tempted to go to the neighboring town on his day off and look for a hooker,
but what if he got caught?  A cop caught getting his joint cranked by some
prostitute…that would the end of his career and his marriage.  He needed
some help, and with his prick constantly hard, he needed it quick.  He
decided to go to confession, maybe if he talked it though with a priest to
see if he could get his head straight.  So that is how Officer Connor
Anderson ended up in Father Richardson's booth, and from there into the
clutches of Johnny Berkland.

Men like Office Anderson could not think straight when their cocks were
hard, and Father Richardson knew just how to draw him into the web.  He had
Connor recite his needs and desires, and had him speak about his fantasies,
and then somehow got him to talk about the time before he was married.  The
cameras were rolling as Connor somehow let the priest open the screen, and
press his hand against the offending organ.   Before he knew it his zipper
was down, and through the fly of his briefs the thick, short prick was being
caressed by the Father's warm hands, and then his hot mouth, licking and
sucking, twisting round and round the oversized, aching glans.  Shit it was
hot, seeing the young police officer pressed against the booth wall, his
hands and face up against the partition while grinding his taut buttocks to
drive the horny penis into the sucking mouth of the voracious priest.

Father Richardson knew he was putting the young, married police officer into
a jackpot, but once he heard the dilemma facing Connor, and looked at the
handsome blond hunk on the other side of the screen, his sense of duty began
to evaporate.  The moment he learned that the cop had enjoyed another man
sucking his cock, and making love to his body, he was lost…his own cock now
hard as a rock and dripping.  He had to suck the police officer, on his own
terms in the confessional.  As he suckled the drooling cock knob, torquing
his mouth and tongue around it making the young man gasp and grunt, he
slipped his hands up under the shirt, searching for Connor's firm nips.
When Officer Anderson bucked against the partition the last time, and began
to shoot bolts of cop cum into the vacuuming mouth, the priest plied his
tits firmly, making the hunky cop groan even more and through the
distraction, allowed his gism to spurt unrestrained from the quivering
prick.  Hmmmmm, the savory, nutty taste of the masculine man's sperm, and
the bleachy odor complimenting the copious amount filling Father Richardson's
greedy mouth, it was a jerk-off fantasy come true.

Now Johnny had a prize to use in the humiliation of Brent.  For one week,
Officer Connor Anderson had been restrained in one of Johnny's cock cages.
He expected some adult criminal to be behind the incriminating photos and
the e-mail mpeg he received with his face contorted in ecstasy as his cock
was gobbled in the confessional booth.
Like the cock restraint one on Brent, it allowed for erection, but prevented
ejaculation and could be worn under a jock strap or regular briefs.  It took
an adjustment in how he showered and dressed at the Station, but with
careful planning, Connor was able to keep his secret.

The day Johnny and Father Richardson met with Officer Anderson, after
sending him e-mail copies of the video and jpegs of his performance in the
confessional, the encounter was awkward and even confrontational.  Johnny
had to rely on the priest to protect him from Connor's anger.  But they made
it through, and when Anderson understood his situation, he finally agreed to
Johnny's terms, frustrated and helpless.  He cringed when the boy unbuckled
his uniform pants, and unzipped them, lowering them and his briefs to the
policeman's knees.  He allowed the boy to have his way with him even holding
up his shirt while his body was examined, and then the cruel cock restraint
fastened onto his stiff cock, erect from Johnny's soft hands and expert
manipulation.  As the boy gently grasped the thick, hard penis of the cop
and pulled the restraint over it, the priest was behind him gently tugging
on his nipples, and fingering his firm stomach muscles.  By the time the
restraint was secured with the tiny lock, Connor was not only fully
engorged, drops of pre-cum filled the piss well.  Johnny marveled at the
huge knob on Connor's thick but short penis, and knew that for the time
being, Officer Connors would be suffering from blue balls unable to
ejaculate with his restraint in place.

A week later, Officer Connor Anderson was in the basement of the rectory, in
the room that Father Richardson had been maintaining for Johnny's use.
While Johnny had watched, and filmed, he had been stripped and then
thoroughly bathed and washed by the priest, including handling of his penis
when he pissed, and two soapy enemas to clean out his rectum which drew
grunts and groans from the unfamiliar intrusion.  Connor had been gagged and
shackled during these procedures, and now he was bound on the queen size
bed.  He was on his knees, with a spreader bar separating his ankles widely.
His arms were tethered over his head to a bar suspended from eye-hooks in
the ceiling.  His uniform cap was on, as well as his empty Sam Browne belt.
His cock restraint had been removed, and through gentle handling by the
priest, Officer Anderson was erect and already dripping drops of pre-fuck.
His gag remained in place, and a look of concern and grunts of protest came
from behind it.  That is when Johnny brought Brent into the room.

Brent was in jeans, t-shirt and flip-flops.  He'd already showered, but
Johnny had Father Richardson take him into the bathroom.  "Father, I think
Brent needs to piss and then please give him an enema."  Brent was
distracted, looking at the person on the bed, bound and gagged with a
policeman's hat on, and a belt.  But before he could say anything, he heard
Johnny's instructions to the priest and wanted to protest.

"Aw common Johnny, I can piss myself, and no more enemas, jeez, please no
more dude?  I've done everything you've asked, Christ, gimme a break."

Johnny did not answer, but nodded to the priest who took the compliant
teenager by his arm and led him to the bathroom.  Brent looked back at
Johnny as he went with the Father, an expression of pleading on his face,
but he got no response from the thirteen year old.  Soon he could hear Brent's
zipper being lowered, the rustle of his jeans and briefs, and then pissing,
knowing that Father Richardson was holding the big boy penis even as it
slowly erected.  Then after stripping off his clothes and flip-flops, Brent
bent over and leaned against the counter.  He was instructed to push back,
like he was going to shit, so Father Richardson could gently slide the
greased nozzle of the enema into Brent's tight rectum.  Father looked down
to see Brent curl his long, thick toes into the bathroom mat as the unerring
nozzle breached his tight portal, and made his ass wriggle as it slowly
tickled its way up to his prostate.  "Oooohh fuck, take it easy Father,
jeez, aaaaawwwww…" Brent moaned as the plastic nozzle finally bumped against
his prostate, making him clench before the clamp was released and the warm
soapy water drained into his colon.  "Aaaaaaagggghhhhhh…Brent groaned as the
water filled him, and his prick hardened even more, now drooling pre-cum
from the combined pressures in his rectum.  He was allowed to evacuate his
bowels on the toilet, while the randy priest fisted his leaky cock knob, and
then the procedure was repeated, making sure he was clean and his balls
ready to scum.  Then the priest used a soapy wash cloth to wipe him down,
paying careful attention the sensitive anus lips, pushing the terry cloth
into the dimpled opening with his finger to make sure it was clean.  Now the
horny teenager, who had not ejaculated for almost a week, was ready, panting
and grunting from the way Father Richardson strummed his hunky athletic
frame, touching, pinching and tugging as he followed Johnny's instructions
to prepare Brent.

Brent was led to the bed, where Johnny revealed what was to occur.  "Brent,
dude it's time you learned that you're no better than Father Richardson.
Just cause you let other guys suck your dick doesn't mean that you aren't a
cocksucker or a punk.  You like it like a dog loves a bone.   I see how much
you love it when you big dick gets sucked and jacked, when people lick your
body and pinch your tits.  You whine and moan like any bitch in heat.  But
you think that makes you straight cause you're not doing anything, and
others are servicing you.  Well dude, you're gonna find out that you're no
better than the rest of us…and I'll bet you're gonna like it.  Get up on the
bed."

"Hold on Johnny, Jesus, I've done everything you've asked, but I'm not gonna
become a cocksucker…so forget it dude, that's it…I'm not doing it---common,
I can't…please, don't ask me to do this…don't dude, common, I've kept my
part of the deal!"  Johnny glared at Brent, and began to reach for the belt
he had brought with him.  Perhaps he had to give Brent another spanking to
get his dick up, and his mind straight.

"No you haven't dude…to keep our deal, you gotta do everything I ask…and no
questions.  I told you that when we met at my place, and you agreed, and you've
had to have your attitude adjusted before…remember?  There isn't anything
you won't do…because if I want it, you better do it, otherwise those pics
and the new ones I've got are going out to the world.  Face it dude, you're
fucked up for the rest of middle school and high school.  For the next four
years, if you're good, you'll get lots of sex, cum a lot, and then when you
go to college you'll be free.  But in the meantime, you're mine.  See that
dude on the bed, he's a cop…and he's gagged and tied down.  If he can't
escape, dude you've got no chance.  Now shut up, and get on the bed, NOW!"
Father Richardson stared in amazement at Johnny and his brash confident
tone, reflecting a man much older and mature than his thirteen years.

Brent looked down at his athletic big boy feet, and shifted his weight from
one to the other.  As he gazed down, he was amazed to see that his cock was
erect, bobbing up and down with its prominent curve and fat knob, wet from
the early fuck lust that was drooling out his piss lips.  He was a fucking
whore, his cock needed constant attention, and there was something about
being at the mercy of this punk kid that made his heart pound.  Looking up
and away, with an expression of resignation, he walked over to the bed, and
climbed up on it, his cock bobbing from side to side from the movement,
having lost none of its tumescence.

When he climbed up, Johnny directed him to go behind Officer Anderson.
Connor turned his head, and babbled through his gag, mumbling incoherently,
his eyes following Brent's movements.  The fifteen year old hunk looked up
at the protesting police officer's face, his eyes open wide, but he knew he
had to do what the little punk told him to do.  When he got behind Connor,
Johnny gave him his orders:  "Dude, see those big boy feet on our cop here,
they're clean and Father here has massaged them with stuff that make 'em
soft and smooth.  Now they need you dude, so get your mouth down there, and
start sucking on the pig's piggies, and use your hands to scratch and tickle
the other one."

One last time, Brent looked up despondent and pathetic, pleading with his
eyes.  The thirteen year old overseer looked at his pitilessly, having no
intention of giving him respite.  So Brent lowered his mouth toward the
thick, wriggling toes of the police officer whose grunts and babbling
continued to be muffled and indecipherable through his gag.

Connor was proud of his feet in an unconscious male way.  They had made him
fast and powerful on the football field, with quick moves in hundreds of
outdoor basketball games, riding bikes as a kid, running around with his
buddies and playing all day long. As a kid he was often in flip-flops or
barefeet, and still on weekends, he aired those big dogs out and let other
men and women wonder if their size and musculature hinted at size and
strength elsewhere.  As a cop, Connor's feet had made him successful in the
academy competing against other guys, and now as a beat officer they pounded
the pavement in his regulation boots, heating up and getting wet and stinky
after a long day.  But a quick shower and his flip flops always restored the
soft soles, and allowed him to flex and curl his thick, long toes.  When he
fucked Ginny, he often used his feet to drive or to balance as he
corkscrewed his shaft into her sticky cunt.  And he remembered his buddy in
high school, who taught him the connection between his feet and his dick,
sucking on them to earn a chance at Connor's thick, leaky dick.  Now another
male, who relied on his feet to make him both successful as well as
vulnerable, was about to service his toes in ways no one had since his buddy
in high school.  But then, it was private…now it was in front of other
guys…fucking humiliating.

Brent's tongue came out slowly, and lashed underneath the toes, at first
intimidated by their wriggling and thrusting movements, trying to avoid
contact with Brent's mouth.  But every time Brent touched another body in a
sexual way, his cock would betray him, and once it did, his brain seemed to
follow.  Johnny watched as Brent's prong already erect, began to pulse,
reaching up to his stomach and at the same time, both his eyes closed and
his mouth closed (over the meaty cop toes).  Now his nimble tongue worked
even as Connor's toes flexed, licking and sucking them and his other hand
went to Connor's other foot, gently tickling and stroking the pale, soft
sole.  Connor squealed into his gag, and his prick went brick hard, dripping
clear drops of pre-cum onto the bed as the penis throbbed from the
excitement of having his feet suckled and tickled.

Connor threw his head back, howling into the gag from the maddening tickling
of his feet.  As he did so, Father Richardson reached up to the man's curved
and hairy pecs and searched through the thick blond hair that covered cop's
chest to find the rubbery cones of his teats that just peaked through the
forest.  He licked both of his index fingers and grasped the firm nubbins
and began to twist and gently scratch them.  Connor was lost, the two
sensations were driving him wild, and he thrust out his chest, even as he
desperately wrenched his toes to try and escape from Brent's lingual and
digital ministrations.  That's when Johnny reached between the splayed legs
of the hairy cop, and scratched his nail against the meaty connection
between Connor's hanging ball sack and his thick cock root.  As his
fingernail dragged across this sensitive spot, the policeman's penis burped
pre-snot, wetting the entire, unattended glans, and continuing to drip onto
the bed.  "Wwwwwwaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh….uuuuuuggghhh,
oooooofffffffff …uuuuuuuuggghhhhhhh" Connor grunted into his gag, his eyes
now rolling the back of his head as his handsome body was assaulted from all
sides.  Ever in control, Connor was out of control and his body was no
longer his to command.  He was being played with like a pet, and his
insatiable sexual drive prevented him from rejecting the sweet sensations
that were molesting him.

After ten continuous and grueling minutes of this torture, Johnny ordered
Brent to get up and get between Connor's legs.  The cop was now covered with
a fine sheen of sweat, and it helped lubricate both the priest's and Johnny's
fingers as they played with the man's horny body.  Now Johnny was getting to
a place where Connor had little experience, but was about to learn new
things about himself.  "K dude, now get you tongue on the cop's butt hole.
I wanna see you licking and tonguing his hole, and then I want you to get a
finger inside him and give him a good ass frig."  Once again Brent pleaded
with his eyes-nodding his head as if to say "no," and gaving a disgusted
look to his teenage master.  But his throbbing penis seemed to lead him
slowly and inexorably into position.  Once he parted the thick dark hair
between the furred and taut cheeks of the cop, exposing the pink, ragged
slit of his anus now tightly clenched, Brent closed his eyes and thrust out
his tongue, licking and flicking as he followed his instructions.  The flesh
was damp from Connor's perspiration, but he was clean from his own shower
and enema earlier, and as Brent realized there was no raunchy scent or
taste, his tongue picked up speed.

Connor was shocked by the sensation against his ass pucker.  He clenched his
glutes in the vain hope of preventing the soft, wet sensation lapping
against his previously inviolate anus.  But while his sphincter tightened
against the poking tongue and its tingling attack, he could not stop the
novel sensation rolling back and forth against the anal lips.  Father
Richardson alternated gentle pinches of his nipples, then lowered his mouth
to one nipple while he rolled the other, making the captive policeman hiss
into his gag, reflexively arching to thrust his pec toward the sucking lips.
Ah, the whorish teats were hungering for the fingering and sucking they were
getting from the priest. At the same time, the teenage jock began to chew
the crevice of the cop, licking and gently biting the virgin territory,
causing the big man to grind his hips to seek respite from the nipping teeth
and wriggling tongue.  Now Connor's toes were curling, but not from sucking
on his toes or scrabbling fingers, but from the tongue-lashing he was
receiving on his sensitive anal knot.

Connor recalled how it felt to have his first medical exam after he had
finished the academy.  He was called into the doctor's office, and the older
male who was ruggedly handsome and graying just slightly, had fingers the
size of a small anal prod.  Connor recalled how he blushed furiously when
the doctor's insistent rubbing of his prostate made him ejaculate copious
ropes of thick, sticky white jism onto the exam table against which he had
pushed in prick in the vain hope he could stop the sensation that
immediately built up when his rectum was breached.  The doctor had laughed
and said not to worry, that it seemed like every other cop he had tested had
done the same thing.  But to Connor, it seemed that the doctor had kept his
finger up there a bit longer than necessary, and used the extra time to take
a sperm sample from the clinging dregs that covered his fat, still tumescent
glans.  Now Johnny had Brent down between the captive cop's legs, prying
into his anal crack, seeking the private and sensitive trench where even
toilet paper made his cock occasionally stiffen, and where during showers
Connor would on occasion slip his finger in to cause an immediate
ejaculation when he needed to get a load off.

To keep the cop on the edge, Johnny used his thumb and forefinger (covered
with finger sheaths made from medical rubber gloves and paint brush
bristles), to gently scour the glans of the cop's fat cock, tickling and
rubbing it-collecting the thick pre-ejaculate and smoothing it over the
raging cock knob.  Fuck it was amazing to see a big hunky police man in his
hat and belt, helpless and writhing in his bonds to escape the delicious
sensations at his most private locations, wheezing and whining into the gag
that kept him from shouting for relief and release.  His fingers were
scrabbling helplessly behind his back, involuntarily moving to stop the
wicked sensations that were driving Connor insane.

Johnny made Brent get up, and take the same position as the cop in front of
the bound man.  Then he cuffed Brent's hands behind him, used a spreader bar
to keep his legs apart, and made sure that the teenager's large, curved
shaft was up against the rigid, short but thick shaft of the policeman.
Then after gagging Brent, Johnny took the circlets he'd used previously on
Brent and fixed them around both men's glans, making sure they were also
connected.  Both men squealed incoherently through their gags, begging the
teenage sadist to spare them.  But Johnny worked methodically as Father
Richardson himself leaked copiously in anticipation of what was about to
happen.  Once the two men's cocks were bound together by the electrical
wire, then Johnny and Father Richardson slipped in two respective prods into
each man's rectum.  Brent wiggled his butt as if he objected mightily but at
the same time, as the prod slid home his penis throbbed madly, leaking more
clear sap, knowing how hard he was going to ejaculate from the sensation
deep within his bowels.  When Johnny went to insert the prod in Connor, with
the priest holding the law man's butt cheeks apart, the cop yelled into his
gag, and tried as hard as he could to squeeze his ass muscles. Johnny was
prepared, he had Father Richardson reach up and twist the cop tits with
saliva moistened fingers, and the moment Connor reacted to the delicious
pinches, the young teen slid the lubricated prod into the cop's rectum when
his focus was distracted.  "UUUuuuummmmmmmm….  hhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuhhh,
uuuuuummmmmmm!"  Connor's eyes went wide, then closed tightly and he
grimaced as his ass muscles reflexively gripped the anal prod and he felt
the customary soreness at the first intrusion into the bowels.
Miraculously, he didn't ejaculate!  It wasn't painful, it was a fullness and
ache from what the prod was bumping…his fucking prostate, shit, the same
place the God damn doctor had poked when he had his medical for the job.  He
acted like he fucking hated it when the doctor slid his gloved finger in him
during the exam, making his cock twitch and then ejaculate spontaneously.
But secretly, Connor like Brent was an overly sexed male whose conscious
existence was driven by his unconscious fuck lust.  Even Connor's tits
hardened when the doc drove him up on his toes by thrusting that thick digit
deeply into him.

Now Johnny's prod had done the same thing, and it was ready along with the
other toys Johnny had affixed.  With a flick of the switch, he had the two
erect prongs buzzing from the low-level electric current coming from the
transformer.  The two fat glans were rubbing against each other within the
confines of the flexible wires, their respective circumcision scars grinding
against each other.  Their slippery pre-cum lubricated the friction between
their erectile tissue, and their hips were thrusting adding to the frottage
between the two---teenage hunk and hunky cop.  Their thrusting was
exaccerbated by the deep anal massage from the vibrators humming within each
of them.  Johnny got up and went behind Brent, thrusting his tongue into the
teen hunk's ear, while Father Richardson gave the same treatment to Officer
Anderson.  They each put their fingers on the tips of the tit nubs of both
men, scratching gently, and then beginning with the soft pinches, and
electric twists that sent jolts down to the rectums and pricks of both
sexual animals.  It took about fifteen minutes, but the pulsing glans kept
grinding against each other with the tingling buzz of the electrical current
driving them further and further up the ladder to a huge cum.  Johnny
snapped pictures as both men started to gasp, and both closed their eyes and
leaned their heads back as both pricks stretched out, the fat knobs
expanding obscenely.  Then wads of sticky sperm bolted from each set of piss
lips, coating each man's stomach and making their glans even more sensitive
from the slippery lubricant as they continued to rub against each other.
Now their groans and cries became high pitched squeals as the overly
sensitive glans continued to be buzzed and rubbed, as did the aching
prostates in their clenching rectums.  The room smelled of cum, the sharp
bleachy-starchy pungent odor, and the globs of thick white pudding coating
their strumming penises.

Fuck Johnny loved managing these two hunky sex addicts to spurt their
private male seed over their bodies.  Their big cocks drove their brains the
moment they were erect, and no matter how much they protested, they would
spit cum constantly once someone started to tease and play with their
bodies.  The afternoon was just beginning, but before it was over, the hunky
teenage athlete and the buff police officer would ejaculate twice from the
prods and coils, and once more from a sixty-nine, bound to each other.  Shit
it was hot, seeing the two of them suck the other's pricks with the threat
of one more ejaculation for the loser.  Johnny and Father Richardson played
with Connor's body in the shower one more time, torquing their soapy fists
around his fat cock knob, milking a dribbling ejaculation from him, but
enjoying the post-cum jerking of his body from their continued attention to
the overly-sensitive glans when he lost the contest to Brent.

Johnny finished the day by leaving the two spent men bound to chairs while
he had Father Richardson strip him, lick his body from head to toe, tongue
his asshole, and then slowly masturbate his own thick priest cudgel with the
bristle gloves until he came to a shattering ejaculation which he was
required to collect in a dish.  Then using a small paint brush, he brushed
and basted Johnny's cock with his cum, till is was covered in the copious,
thick spooge that had been in priest's balls since the last time Johnny had
allowed him to cum.  Once Johnny was painted with the priest's cum, Father
Richardson had to slowly suck him to a thrilling, bucking cum.  Then once
again, the priest was required to masturbate himself, this time using an
anal prod as well, and catching the cum on the plate once more.  This time,
Johnny made his coat his toes with the cum, and had the good Father suck
them clean while he jerked himself for a third time.  This ejaculation was
caught in his fist, and then after licking his palm, he had to suck Johnny
off one last time before the afternoon's pleasure ended.  The Priest, Cop
and Brent were returned to their cock restraints, and they would begin
another slow and desperate week without being allowed to ejaculate.

To be continued…I appreciate all the comments I have received since I began
posting this story.  Since this is my first written work on my own in two
years, I will continue to look forward to hearing from you.
Glaucon55@aol.com

***The above is the sole responsibility of the poster.***

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