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From: Marc <marc0112@yahoo.com>
Subject: Brent's Big Boner No. 15-Finale  M/t
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Forwarded for author Glaucon55@aol.com


----- Original Message ----- 
From: Glaucon55@aol.com
Sent: Monday, August 07, 2006 1:44 AM
Subject: Brent's Big Boner No. 15-Finale


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.


Johnny's Happy Ending-Chapter 15 Finale

The years passed quickly for Johnny, while they crawled for Brent and others 
caught in Johnny's traps.  Brent graduated from high school the star of the 
varsity baseball team, and an good student.  With Johnny supervising his 
every move, his hopes and dreams and ejaculations, Brent was a model of 
American male jockdom.  But no one knew that he was a cock slave, prick 
controlled, and under the supervision of a boy younger than him.  All they 
saw were his dazzling fastballs, his unhitable change-up, and the body of a 
Greek god.  Girls continued to leak into their panties wishing they could 
fuck him, and boys outside of Johnny's circle, admired the muscular, 
handsome hunk that seemed to always get it right on the field, off the 
field, and likely in Amy's pussy.

When they graduated, Brent and Amy went to a small religious college 
upstate.  Brent continued his baseball career in college, becoming a 
Division III All-American and an all-conference player.  He also remained an 
all-American piece of boy beef.  His five inch bone had filled out to a 
respectable eight inches, and the knob had grown fatter and more sensitive 
over the years.  The wide flange around the glans was so sensitive that 
Brent could not stand to have a fist roil over his knob, especially after a 
cum, and yet that is what transformed him into an All-American sex pig.  His 
long, hairy toes, his jutting, ripe nipples, and his tight, itchy anus were 
all geared by nature to make him pant with lust every time he was touched by 
other than his own hands.  Hell, even touching himself, to take a piss, to 
wipe his anus after a shit, as he soaped himself in the shower, always 
seemed to make his prick thicken, gain tumescence.  His briefs were 
constantly stained with dried fuck-sap from repeated drips of pre-cum from 
his itchy prick tip.  Behind the appearance of pious devotion, All-American 
values, and those striking good looks, Brent's life had an entirely new 
dimension that Johnny had made possible.

Amy also had matured, from a naïve junior high girl into a demanding highly 
sexual high school vixen.  By the time they graduated, Johnny had shared 
with her his years of cock management, showed her the tapes, and made her 
pussy drool with the possibilities-all under the careful guidance of Johnny. 
After graduation, Brent was still under control in college, but now Amy was 
in charge with Johnny's blessing.  Once they had settled in on the small, 
sleepy campus, Amy had found a brainy college geek with an oversized penis 
and libido who was happy to help her train and manage Brent.  His name was 
Colin Cranford, and while skinny and shy, he had sexual needs that made him 
grind his prick into the bed sheets every night to spray thick wads of 
teenage spunk as he dreamed of hunky boys doing his bidding and girls who 
pussies itched constantly.  Together Colin and Amy took complete charge of 
Brent who spent his first night standing naked in front of both, his hands 
locked behind his head, as Colin inspected every inch of his perfect body. 
Before that first night was through, Brent's unruly boner had spunked three 
times in Colin's relentless fist, his toes curling helplessly from the 
delicious friction that drove him so wild that Amy had to gag him. 
Together, they fashioned a routine that included  paddling his ass, tying 
him down, and milking him endlessly for their pleasure-and his own.

Colin invented ingenious ways to drain Brent's fat nuts, and to make him 
perform even in public settings.  One of Amy's favorite tricks was to have 
the three of them go out to dinner, and to have Colin, who for the 
opportunity to screw Amy had become a regular at the gym, unzip Brent under 
the table and slowly masturbate him to the edge of ejaculation for the 
entire period of the meal.  Bent was not allowed to show any emotion, and 
usually when the waiter was dealing with Brent and the bill for the meal, 
Jeremy would focus on palming the big boy's throbbing glans-forcing him to 
curl his toes tightly, strain to keep his composure, and often sweat 
strangely even in an air-conditioned restaurant.  Later, after Colin would 
be allowed to screw Amy, while Brent was bound and forced to watch---his 
prick drooling for relief, Brent would be required to both clean Jeremy's 
penis after his cum, and then lick out the cream pie from Amy's full 
pussy-giving her another cum.  Together, Colin and Amy found many ways to 
have the handsome hunk drink other boy's sperm, as well as suck his own cock 
for relief.  But no one would know that the star of the baseball team, and 
the wet dream of repressed boys and girls at the religious college, was a 
cock slut supreme.

When Brent graduated, he tried out for the minor leagues but the competition 
was just one level over his skills.  He went on to the work world, taking a 
job in the nearest big town.  That way, when he and Amy married they were 
able to blend into the background of the urban hustle and bustle.  Brent 
became an assistant bank manager, dressed in handsome suits with leather 
cap-toes on his big boy feet.  But more than once he had been taken into the 
vault by arrangement, and stripped naked to service hot young men and women 
whom Amy had discreetly obtained for sessions.  No one knew how the 
handsome, well built young husband who seemed so much in control in every 
venture he pursued, was carefully governed at home, cock leashed at work, 
and always available to perform when instructed.  Brent's boner had been 
conquered, mastered, and enslaved, and while it leaked beautifully and 
ejaculated powerfully, time and again, it was from age fourteen beyond Brent's 
jurisdiction.  Now as he entered his young adulthood, he was just beginning 
to fully appreciate what it would mean for a lifetime of pleasure 
orchestrated for him and others, but not by him.  Often he would stare at 
his throbbing bone, leaking and pulsing, helpless to take control of its 
beautiful, big knobbed and thick, wonder.  Even the thought of stealing a 
moment of initiative over his bulging cock tip made his anus itch and his 
prostate throb.  Brent was the poster-boy for those who wonder what rests 
behind the gorgeous faces of handsome, athletic young men-sexual need and 
surrender that is sublime.

When Wes graduated from high school and went on to college, Johnny knew that 
the big ego-driven boy could not stop seeking ways to have his fat cock 
serviced.  All through middle school and high school he had found boys to 
crawl on the floor at his feet to get a suck on his fat, leaky glans.  With 
a ready smile, and a sarcastically handsome expression, Wes made other boys 
seem small---and he liked it that way.  Johnny had turned the tables on him 
once, and showed him how he could be made to surrender his body completely. 
Johnny showed Wes to what extremes a guy could be taken on his way to 
ejaculation, and Wes' constantly horny body readily performed.  But it also 
showed Wes what he could do to other unsuspecting boys, especially those 
with big boy dicks and big boy bodies that had the germ of surrender in 
their personalities.  After all, most guys don't want to think to hard; they 
just to be cock hard.  They like to do what feels good, and shooting sperm 
is just about the most natural-feel good thing guys do.  So Wes found big 
and small boys with hard dicks and uncontrollable urges to lick his toes, 
lave his anus, suckle his nips, and nurse his big cock head.  But Johnny was 
only biding his time with Wes.  When they got together through the 
interaction of their respective families, they kept a respectful distance 
from one another with Wes acting almost a bit leery of Johnny's shy smile. 
Over the years, Johnny wanted to make sure that Wes got accustomed to 
dominating other boys but remained fearful of him.   For Johnny, waiting was 
a strategy, so that when Wes lost control again, he would long for it 
desperately, even though he would never have it back again.

When Wes graduated from high school, Johnny managed to give him a graduation 
gift that would transform his freedom into servitude.  The gift was a music 
video DVD with a hidden program that downloaded into Wes' notebook.  That 
allowed Johnny to monitor the older boy's e-mail and internet traffic on his 
laptop.  Wes had gone to the University of Idaho, seeking the anonymity of a 
large school to seek his gratification and pleasures, while obtaining the 
college degree that would launch him on the road to financial and personal 
success.  No matter how conservative the environment, no matter how 
homo-phobic the location, there are always boys who just need sex, 
constantly.  At Idaho, the home of the "Vandals", there were handsome 
barbarians for the plucking, and others who conquered with long cocks and 
perfect bodies.  In the home of straight cowboys and the ultimate whitebread 
Christian values, cocks were none the less spitting cum and All-American 
boys were letting other boys play with their studly, jock forms.

Johnny soon learned from the big boy's "anonymous" chat room traffic that 
Wes had located which restrooms on campus had glory-holes where he could get 
a hot wet mouth to suck and lick his ever hard prick.  That led him to 
provide an anonymous tip to another guy who frequented the internet sites 
used by boys on the campus trolling for subs and victims.  So Johnny found a 
way to get Wes caught by a thirty year old campus security guard who loved 
capturing college punk boys, and blackmailing them into satisfying his own 
fantasies.  The guard, using the same tactics that Johnny had used to gain 
control of Wes, caught the hunky boy on an unauthorized security tape as he 
was having his fat cock suckled by another kid in the school library 
basement.  Wes was in shorts, t-shirt and flip-flops.  His long, thick prong 
was jutting through his fly, sticking through the hole in the partition. 
Wes' hands braced against the metal divider to allow his body to lean into 
the hot sucking mouth that was servicing him.  The guard liked the way Wes' 
hips swung back and forth as he walked down the basement hallway toward the 
obscure restroom, his muscled feet were pigeon-toed like most jocks, his 
taut ass cheeks framed perfectly in the shorts, the material clinging deep 
in his crack. Wes' t-shirt hung straight down on his moulded pecs, his 
diamond chip nipples thrusting out the soft cotton.  The guard was 
persuaded…this big dicked jock-boy who ground his hips into the passionate 
blow job he was receiving and captured on tape, was going to be his toy. 
Both boys were busted.  The short brunet who had been on his knees, 
vacuuming Wes fat cock knob, was also transformed into a cock slut for 
others he knew.  But the guard, who saw the bigger boy uncontrollably 
growling with lust and satisfaction as he mashed his hips into the partition 
and thrust his rigid boner into the brunet's voracious mouth, kept Wes for 
himself.

>From then on Wes became a bitch for the hunky security guard who summoned 
the big boy jock to his office, gave him copies of the tape, and explained 
it to him in direct terms.  From that day on, Wes's big penis was 
cock-caged, and he had to spend hours learning to suck the guard's long 
thick toes and licking his furry asshole, before he was allowed to even 
touch the hunky rent-a-cop's short, thick up-curved prick.  Wes was given 
regular physical inspections in back rooms of the basements of buildings on 
the campus.  The guard would sit in a chair while Wes slowly stripped.  Then 
the guard would unlock his mesh cock cage, and then perform an inspection 
that would make the boy's cock go rock hard and dripping wet.  A thick, 
blunt finger would gently wriggle up Wes' sensitive rectum making his stand 
on his toes, and his stiff, rubbery teats would be pinched and scratched 
until Wes almost ejaculated just from the sweet sensation.  Then there was 
that oversized, wide flanged, prick tip.  The things the guard was able to 
do to Wes' pride and joy, turning him into a squealing, begging little boy, 
still insatiably horny and ready to spit spooge.  There were nights when Wes 
was trussed with his arms crossed behind his back, ankles shackled to a 
spreader bar, and a ball-gag in his mouth while the malevolent light-skinned 
black guard pinched and plied his whorish tits, stroked his desperate prick 
to the edge of ejaculation, finger-fucked the athletic white captive, and 
turned him over his knees for a good spanking that made Wes's dick rain 
pre-fuck.  He also learned to perform for the guard's buddies, a white dude 
and a mean Asian punk whose cock had a wicked down-curve as well as a thick 
knob.  After having to jerk-off for their amusement-usually twice and once 
with by running a vibrator up into his own ass, he was forced to take a 
rubber filled with his own sperm, and empty it on his tongue to savor and 
swallow.  Wes's nipples became legend, demonstrating over and over to anyone 
who touched them how much of a punk slut the handsome boy was, and how fast 
his cock became a hard clit the moment his nips even felt a hot breath, much 
less a scratch or a pinch.  Many a night, strapped down on the bed of his 
security guard master, his nipples were suckled till he went to sleep, his 
penis throbbing and bobbing, sticky with pre-fuck, and often unrelieved. 
Like Brent, Wes lost complete control of his cock, and only achieved release 
when he was given permission.  Until he was in his early thirties, Wes' 
ejaculations were on a schedule...managed by others.

Trevor Stockton was allowed to escape from his penance after high school. 
Johnny was intrigued by the big, languid redhead with the long legs and easy 
gait who grew to be 6' 7".  But he also enjoyed the kid's wry sense of 
humor, and willingness to try anything.  Johnny sensed that Trevor knew how 
to enjoy sex, and that he would make the most of his opportunities in life. 
No need to put this big jock under restraint…he would be getting more than 
his share of interesting and fulfilling sex.  As for Trevor, once he had 
been put through his paces in junior high and high school by Johnny, it was 
hard not to return to the sensations that had been his most fulfilling 
sexual experience for most of his teenage years.  There was something 
special about having Brent McDermott, the jock king of the community licking 
out Trev's hairy asspucker, or suckling his long, thick toes.  And it was 
cool to have a Priest and a cop lick his body from head to toe, even if he 
was tied down when they did it.  Trevor couldn't get enough of hunky punks 
servicing his big body. After all, his cock shot wads of gism no matter the 
source of his stimulation.  As long as he was not in pain, why not get his 
rocks off at the expense of others.

His pale skin, freckles, and red hair made him exotic.  Neither girls nor 
boys could resist his size fourteen feet with their tufts of red fur on the 
top of the big and index toes.  And it felt so good when he wiggled his 
long, thick toes in their mouths, as tongues slid over and around his pigs, 
sucking them like midget cocks.  Trevor absolutely loved the way folks 
studied his toes when he was barefoot, or in flip-flops, almost like an act 
of worship.  His high arches, slender heel, thick ankles and vein covered 
musculature made his feet look powerful, and yet they were so tender, pale 
and exposed.  And when girls drew their long fingernails down his soft 
instep and strong heels, his cock would leak copiously. Yeah, life was good, 
and "suck my fucking toes" was an electric charge to Trevor's unruly 
boner…making its long pale shaft turn into a rocket ready to fire its jets.

On the basketball team in college, he found that one of the team managers 
was always looking at him, drinking in his handsome body and his thick cock 
when he walked to the showers after practice.  But most of all, when he 
walked with that languid gait, bouncing on his big feet, his wide glutes 
big, pale and dimpled swinging back and forth, the kid was mesmerized.  Trev 
would make sure he had the kid help him with his gear, and would slowly dry 
his toes, flexing them, often near the kids face as he picked up Trev's wet 
practice uniform from the floor of the lockerroom.  He could see the kid's 
cock get hard in his sweats, and slowly, Trev got the kid to talk about sex, 
about being horny like Trev was, and how badly he needed his cock sucked. 
One night, after a Friday practice, Trev got the manager drunk, took him 
back to his apartment, and had the horny kid naked in no time and soon 
starting on Trev's wiggling toes.  The manager became his personal college 
cocksucker, trained to lick Trev from head to toe when he wanted it.  When 
Trevor was not getting laid by the numerous college girls who longed to be 
screwed by the team's star player, the hunky team manger would be under 
Trevor's sheets, sucking on the fat knob of redhead's insatiable boner, and 
grinding his own thick, stubby penis into the sheets for relief as he did 
so.  Trevor would never allow the kid to masturbate when he was servicing 
him, enjoying the boy's helpless thrusting of his penis into the sheets in 
an effort to bring himself off, but knowing that an untimely cum would 
result in him being turned over Trev's lap for a bone-inducing spanking. 
Then there were times Trev made the boy perform a rut till he ejaculated, 
grinding himself on the bedding to a spurting cum before he was allowed to 
touch Trev's furry, muscled body---hell the kid was a cum factory anyway, he 
loved it.  After college, Trev finished with basketball except in local 
leagues, and went to business school back East.  He found everywhere he 
went, there were boys and girls ready to service his huge frame, long 
pecker, and powerful feet.  Today he has a family, a good job, and discreet 
relationships with those who are drawn to "Big Red" and his easy-going, 
charming, handsome presence---and those toes.

Officer Connor Anderson resigned from the police force after two years, and 
he and his family moved to another town.  Connor was torn up inside from 
having to submit to a teenage punk that he would bust if only the 
circumstances had been different.  Plus, he had to endure the humiliation of 
being sexually submissive, of watching a Priest masturbate him in front of 
other men, and doing things that wounded his self-esteem.  He hoped that his 
sudden change of venue, and the quiet relocation of his family without 
notice, would allow him to escape Johnny's stranglehold.  But he was wrong. 
Johnny's mastery of the internet soon allowed him to track Officer Anderson 
through credit card numbers and the Social Security number he had obtained 
while the Andersons were still in town.  In order to protect himself from 
future allegations or exposure, Johnny then searched the underground life of 
the town where the Andersons had relocated and found an alpha male in their 
police department who liked to make men and women submit.

When that Captain was sent a video and picture files of Officer Anderson 
from Johnny's stash, ones that could not be traced but were authentic, it 
was a matter of time before Connor was confronted by his fellow officer. 
Within days of that encounter, Connor was standing in a dirty rest stop 
john, his uniform pants and his briefs at his knees, his shirt open exposing 
his muscular chest, one hand locked behind his head and the other holding 
his prick while pissing for the Captain's amusement.  He had to bend over, 
and finger his own ass, sliding his own thick index finger deep within his 
rectum and rubbing his fuck nut until he almost fainted from the 
sensation-grunting and moaning from the intense feeling, squeezing his ass 
muscles around his own invading digit.  Then the Captain made Anderson 
slowly masturbate his thick prick into a cup while the Captain smiled and 
watched, sitting on a bench, the doors locked so he could humiliate the 
young cop.

Unfortunately for Connor, that was not the end of it.  Soon, he was on his 
back on the bench where the Captain had been sitting, legs up to his chest, 
cinched under his knees and around his torso, and spread and tethered to a 
bar.  Connor had a ball-gag in his mouth, two electric clips on his jutting 
nipples, and his Captain smiling as a slender anal prod covered with soft 
plastic spikes was slowly and gently inserted and twisted deep up and into 
his clenching rectum.  Instinctively Anderson's rectum gripped the 
wriggling, buzzing device as it had earlier his index finger, and as it did 
anything that slid up his sensitive cop whore fuck-hole.  As the Captain 
held Connor's huge fuck stick, gently thumbing the huge sticky knob, Connor 
rolled his eyes, and the big piss lips opened to eject bolts of thick man 
juice over his chest and up to his face.  His size twelve feet were tightly 
curled as the aching sensation of his anal masturbation at the hands of this 
new tormentor drove him over the edge as it always did.  There would be no 
more running.  Connor was a broken man.  He accepted his cock cage, and the 
schedule that he was forced to follow for screwing his wife to keep things 
appearing normal.  But his bowling nights, card nights and softball games, 
often ended up with other men's pricks breaching his tight anus, and reaming 
his sensitive, itchy rectum.  There were long periods when his cock was 
off-limits, and he grew to appreciate the rough fist of his Captain, if only 
to bring him tantalizingly close to the edge of release, and to torment his 
over-sized and needy glans.

The Captain had a special treatment for Connor that even Johnny had not 
devised in this most fiendish form.  He was responsible for a canine unit, 
and the big, aggressive German Shepard had a well developed and carefully 
trained fetish for male cock.  Sometimes to amuse his other cop buddies who 
helped him humiliate Officer Anderson, the Captain would have the hunky 
young cop tied face down to a special table, with his erect cock and balls 
thrust through an opening in the middle.  With carefully wired electrodes 
stimulating every other part of his body from ears, nose, and nipples to his 
toes and anus, the Shepard named Stud would watch as Connor's oversized 
glans was basted by brush with honey, tickling the straight cop's sensitive 
cock knob causing it to leak pre-spunk.  Then the salivating dog was 
released with the smell and sight of the tasty treat just beyond his chained 
reach.  Once freed, he bounded to his victim, his long, dexterous tongue 
would go into over-drive, licking and slurping over the helplessly exposed 
cock head, forced down and erect like an oversized cow's udder.  Man's best 
friend was prepared to suckle in Pavlovian style, endlessly and 
automatically.  Better yet, when a squealing, yelling Officer Anderson 
ejaculated, the dog would intensify his licking in order to capture every 
starchy morsel and to stimulate the pleading officer's obscenely bloated 
glans and corona till he basically fainted from the sensation.  That and 
prolonged bouts of tickling his big feet at the same time he was attached to 
a milker over his prick, could make Connor Anderson the most accommodating 
and compliant member of law enforcement in the County. To hear him squeal 
and beg was a treat that made even veteran masters leak copiously.  Well 
after his children had grown and gone away to college to start their own 
lives, unbeknownst to them the handsome and athletic Anderson in his 
mid-forties was still spitting cum at the behest of his commanding officer, 
paying the piper for keeping his secret.

Father Richardson was a special case.  Johnny did not mind managing the 
Father while he was in town, and in fact they had a friendly relationship. 
Father Richardson was a nice person, but he was unable to control the 
impulses that caused him to initiate sexual relationships with teenagers. 
Johnny understood when kids fooled around with each other, but he could not 
accept the Father seducing younger boys under the cover of his authority and 
the church.  He had no intention of leaving the divine there to use his 
sacred office to entrap more boys.  He had told Richardson this, and urged 
him on many occasions to stop using the confessional to meet his needs.  But 
in spite of the Priest's cock restraint, time after time, Johnny would come 
home to tapes of the Father "ministering" to some boy's healthy boner, 
draining the juices from him as he panted and sweated to keep quiet as the 
young Father's hands or lips were milking him.

The straw that broke the camel's back involved a boy directed to the Parish 
from Juvenile Hall.  Juwan Mckenzie was eleven and a half, but a well built, 
and physically mature black pre-teen.  His mother worked two jobs to try to 
keep Juwan in the local Catholic school, so she could not monitor his 
behavior, especially after school.  Juwan had befriended a thirteen year old 
boy named Devonne Johnson who lived in the same apartment building.  For 
almost a year, Juwan had been grinding his already healthy five inch boner 
into the sheets of his bed at night, delighting in the excruciating 
sensations fucking his bed created for him.  He could enjoy up to four dry 
cums consecutively, but after that his prick would be sore, and he had to 
stop the delicious friction on his fat, bloated prick tip.   But Devonne had 
showed Juwan that there were ways to achieve his orgasms that did not 
require him to bruise his exquisite curved shaft and fat prick knob.  Within 
weeks of meeting each other in the Catholic Middle School, Devonne was using 
liquid soap to milk Juwan to repeated dry ejaculations, making the younger 
boy his sex toy.  It was only the unexpected arrival of Devonne's mother 
home early from work one day, that ended the after-school games.  She 
complained that Juwan had been the instigating to juvenile officials, and 
both boys were separated and remanded to counseling.  For Juwan, that 
counseling came from the local church at his mother's request, and the good 
Father Richardson was assigned his case.

Father Richardson could not believe his luck.  He found a room in the church 
where Johnny could not trace his actions with the ubiquitous cameras and 
recording devices.  There he soon had Juwan firm milk chocolate body naked 
and surrendering to his expert fingers.  Juwan had firm diamond chip nipples 
that when scratched, made his pre-teen boner leak clear fluid copiously.  He 
would rest his head back on the shoulder of the good devine, while sitting 
on the Priest's lap, and soon his nipples were plucked to stiff little cones 
and his fat prick knob was roiled in the Father's fist until the boy gasped 
and groaned his way to two and three orgasms each visit.  He loved the 
sensations, and with his relationship with Devonne now ended, Father 
Richardson had become his source of surrender.  As for the Father, he loved 
the way the slender, curved shaft was narrow at the base, widening to the 
flared knob with its wide corona and glass smooth glans that fairly fucked 
anything that grazed it.  Juwan was insatiable, and the Priest unable to 
resist his charms.  Accidently, Johnny learned of the relationship when 
Juwan came to confession one day, pleading with Father Richardson to 
increase the time they spent together.  The Father was only able to meet 
with Juwan maybe twice a week under Johnny's strick regimen.  The boy wanted 
to have his cock worked more regularly, and the confession confrontation and 
pleading were carefully recorded despite Richardson's efforts to stop the 
conversation once he realized what Juwan wanted.  Johnny forced Father 
Richardson to stop seeing the boy, and to have another Priest take over his 
counseling.  But the incident convinced Johnny that he had to do something 
with the Father before he left the area for college.

Before Johnny left for college, he made sure the good father applied for and 
was transferred to a remote Mexican village in the southern part of Mexico. 
Actually, Richardson never knew that he had applied for the new position. 
He thought that the Church had decided to send him to a new post where his 
talents were needed.  But in fact it was Johnny using the magic of the 
internet and with the ability to hack the Church computer that set Father 
Richardson up for his new assignment.  Little did the Father know that he 
had been secretly sold over the internet to an urban gang of drug dealers 
whose prison experience and life in the city made them desirous of a white 
male slave.  They had enjoyed a couple of American prisoners, college boys 
who had been foolish enough to get caught in Mexico buying or dealing drugs, 
and then put in the jails where the gang had been incarcerated.  There was 
nothing like a handsome American college boy, with his legs up over his 
head, his long athletic toes curling from the sensation as a thick Mexican 
cock slid up and down his hot, moist rectum.  The thought of having one of 
these squealing boy-men for their use and pleasure while living far from 
regular police authority, seemed like a good arrangement.  Once purchased 
(re-assigned), Father Richardson would be the local parish Priest, but his 
ministry would change dramatically once he arrived and settled.  He would 
also spend time servicing the young, virile and inventive young men who had 
purchased him when he was not meeting the needs of the villagers as their 
devoted priest.  His cock cage was wired to a small anal prod that remained 
inserted up his ass most days and nights.  The head of the gang possessed 
the remote control that would send at his discretion a steady vibration 
humming up the Father's rectum at a moment's notice, forcing him to drool 
copious amounts of pre-cum from a constantly stiff boner, but never allowing 
him to ejaculate.  This was how the Father gave confessions now, unable to 
play with his prick or control the sensations coursing up his rectum and 
buzzing his fuck nut as he tried to focus on the words being spoken through 
his cubicle screen; squirming on his bench like a man with a hemorrhoid 
itch.

Father Richardson's ejaculations were actually profitable for the gang. 
They were saved for a special apparatus that looked much like an automatic 
milker for cows.  On special nights Father Richardson was placed on his 
knees, his wrists bound to his ankles forcing his chest and mid-section out. 
Braced with a special bolster, electric clips were attached to his nipples, 
on his balls, his ears, and at the opening of his nostrils and occasionally 
on his big toes.  Then when the vibrator up his rectum was activated, the 
milker was placed over his cock head and secured.  Finally, the electric 
current was switched on activating the buzzing clips.  On those nights, the 
good father often was drained three to five times for the amusement of the 
gang or its visitors, and his sperm sold to sperm banks around the world on 
the internet.

As he approached forty, he became adept at knowing every cock, every 
asshole, and every set of toes in the group of men who owned him.  They were 
handsome and virile, and they made him worship their bodies, sucking their 
thick, ever hard uncut cocks, and licking their sensitive, hairy ass holes. 
Each year, new young men were brought into the gang, and the good father 
could satisfy his lusts, even if he could not gain release to play with his 
own throbbing member.

Darren, Johnny's boyhood friend and confident, grew to be a strapping and 
naturally athletic young man.  Darren never became the brightest bulb, but 
he was loyal and could not resist the many inventive ways Johnny had of 
milking sperm from his ever hard boner.  His huge cock and over-sized balls 
produced endless amounts of sperm which Johnny carefully managed…and 
extracted.  That's just the way Johnny liked it.  He adored trying his 
newest ideas and inventions out on Darren, and his friend who liked nothing 
more than to shoot his sperm, rarely complained.  After all, it was in the 
service of his friends plans, and since they were a team someone had to be 
the guinea pig.  Never very smart, Darren continued to follow Johnny's 
direction.  After high school, they even went to the same small college that 
Johnny had picked out where he knew Darren could gain admission, and far 
enough away from the beaten path that he could gain a foothold with his 
technological skills that would reduce enough handsome boys and men to 
provide him with a constant source of pleasure.  To this day, Darren and 
Johnny remain together, Darren subservient to Johnny's needs and his plans, 
his cock securely under Johnny's management and supervision.

As for Johnny, he perfected the business of getting athletes, police 
officers, security guards, business jocks, and Army and Marine boys to 
surrender to his carefully executed traps.  For three years after he 
graduated from college, he continued to work moving from one small town to 
another in the great rural and dimly educated stretches of Middle America. 
He made a specialty of Mormon boys.  Then he left the United States to take 
his business activities to Eastern Europe where an endless supply of 
strapping young men with few resources and options make his selection 
opportunities even greater than in the United States.  He markets and sells 
his DVDs of Americans he taped and recorded to an enthusiastic audience 
abroad.  But he is also proving adept at getting poor and uneducated young 
hunks from Eastern European countries, from the recently freed towns and 
cities of the former Iron Curtain, where horny boys and American money are a 
perfect combination.  Their lack of control and their big dicks eventually 
find many of them performing for Johnny in ways that will only sharpen his 
trade.  All this started with a thirteen year old boy's sexual infatuation 
with the hunk next door, and how he managed to get the delicious Brent 
McDermott to surrender his big boy boner.  Today, Johnny is a boner master, 
and boys and men from countries far and wide who love to cum are often 
squirting for him on a regular basis.

So ends the story of punk kids, high on sex, and the mastery and control of 
Brent's big boner.

The End

If you enjoyed this story, and have suggestions for me for other stories or 
concepts, please feel free to write me at glaucon55@aol.com.  Once again, 
remember that this is fiction for stroke play, and nothing more.


 

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

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