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Subject: Masturbation Chronicles No. 4a
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Posted for author Glaucon55@aol.com

Masturbation Chronicles No. 4a
Security Guard Tony Bruno's Capture
February 10, 2008
Glaucon55@aol.com

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 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 underage boys 
which is regulated by law.  These are fantasies for sexual private sexual 
enjoyment, not for emulation in real life.

This current series is entitled "The Masturbation Chronicles" and will be a 
series of discreet stories focused around the theme of uncontrollable 
masturbation and its consequences.  I would truly appreciate suggestions 
from others for scenes or settings, and of course descriptions of real 
scenes.  Often my stories have been woven from tales shared with me by those 
of you who comment on my stories.  So please consider writing to me.

My stories are posted on http://www.pridesites.com/omelissokomos/glaucon/, 
and on ASSGM.com, and on Nifty.  I would appreciate comments on my writing. 
I certainly admire the good writers on the web, and consider myself still a 
learner.  Please contact me at glaucon55@aol.com.  They stories posted under 
the name of Glaucon55 or written by him are all his work product and may 
only be published on other sites or anywhere else, with his permission.

Masturbation Chronicles No. 4a
Security Guard Tony Bruno's Capture

The boy I have secured in the back of my camper reminds me of a buddy I had 
in high school.  The kid I have now is about 5' 7" tall, stocky bild, blond 
to the tufts on his toes, and sporting a nice thick, 6.5 inch boner, 
straight up and stiff-a little fuller in the middle, tapering to the head, 
and then a nice, fat, juicy cap.  The buddy I knew in high school was closer 
to 5' 10" and he was black haired, green-eyed, and threw a 7" prick that 
curved downwards, with a fat baseball knob on it.  His skin was pale, he 
once described it as being "Black Irish."  But I didn't care.  He was built 
like a long-legged tennis player, which is what he was.  On Friday nights, 
it was "get drunk and wasted, and let somebody drain your nuts time."  Now 
the kid I had in the back of my camper was not so cooperative, but he would 
get the same treatment-and like my buddy in high school, draining his nuts 
was what he was all about.  I've always had a soft spot for this action, 
since high school, and for boys whose pricks are constantly hard.

Cameron Collier, the kid from high school wasn't too particular.  He knew he 
wanted to cum, and he didn't care if it was some slut sucking his cock, or 
some dude's calloused paw jerking him off.  When I'd see him at snack in the 
morning he'd complain that he'd had a hardon since 1st period, and wished he 
could get a blow job at lunch time.  That was Cameron, straight-forward and 
horny, just needing to get off as many times a day as time and opportunity 
would permit.  I'd met him in Junior High, and trust me, he was the same 
then.  His mom had been divorced from his Dad since he was ten, and from 
that day on she had an endless stream of big dicked men come to the house on 
Friday and Saturday nights to fuck her silly.  Cameron would sneak to her 
bedroom door, and open it just enough during the bouts of fucking to see the 
strong glutes of some hairy dude, his big balls bouncing between his legs, 
driving a sticky, wet shaft into his mom's snatch, making her squeal with 
pleasure as his knob worried her greedy clit.  His own pre-teen pricklet 
would get stiff as a nail, all three and one half inches of it, and he 
spontaneously learned to rub and squeeze it till waves of dry sensation 
overtook him.  He was hooked on the goose bumps and the shuddering, 
tit-hardening feelings that would overtake his body. From then on he 
masturbated until junior high, when he found out that both girls and guys 
would do it for him.  There were horny cum dumps everywhere, from the older 
teen dude next door who paid him a buck each time Cam allowed him to suck 
his cock, to the middle school girls whose panties were always wet.  Cam was 
good-looking, with green eyes and that dark hair setting off an Anglo-Saxon 
countenance, and his prick never went soft---he had all the skills he needed 
along, with an arrogant confidence, to get his nuts drained regularly.

Me, I just liked the way he was always ready to spunk wads of teenage spooge 
from his ever bloated nuts that swung heavily between his legs.  I'd only 
goofed around with Cam a couple of times in junior high, but both were 
exhilarating, and I knew I wanted more.  His casual attitude toward sex was 
the opposite of my anxiety ridden guilt over the lewd pleasures of grinding 
my cock into my bed at night.wringing my own sweet dry cums from my feverish 
rod.  But Cam taught me that pleasure was nothing to be guilty about, and 
that it was easier to get than my horny, but shy, personality realized.  The 
first time me and Cam hooked up was in the bus from a field trip to a boring 
museum for history class.  By the time we'd finished the tour and heard the 
docent's endless commentary, Cam was sitting next to me in the back seat 
complaining about how stupid the trip had been, and how horny he was.  He 
said that Jessica Raymond's panties were showing every time she bent down to 
look at the captions of the floor exhibits, and that had made his dick start 
leaking.  He was sure she was wet at the snatch (and he would know), and he 
could see her cunt lips sticking to the soft material of the panties.  I 
nervously laughed it off hoping that he hadn't seen my own boner as he 
talked about his prick.  But as the bus got dark on the ride home, he 
pointed out how hard his cock was.  The dudes across the isle from us were 
sleeping, and so I openly starred at his erection as it lay on his thigh, 
making a fat ridge in his pant's leg.

Finally, after whining a bit more, he lay his head against the window, 
groaned softly as his fingertips grazed the erection, and whispered casually 
that I should feel how hard he was.  Trembling, and looking around to make 
sure no one was paying attention, I threw my jacket over both our legs, and 
slipped my near hand underneath to grasp his woody. My heart was racing, not 
sure where I had gotten the nerve to feel Cam's woody, but so horny and 
desperate to do it, that I was willing to take a chance at getting caught. 
Fuck, his prick felt so thick and strong for a fourteen year old kid, and he 
immediately closed his eyes and leaned back splaying his legs, giving me 
room to work.  I found my fingertips drawn to his knob, since his erection 
had a sort of curve that forced the middle down, and stretched the material 
of his pants over the knob aimed down over his thigh.  I knew how sensitive 
my own prick tip was, and somehow I just wanted to see what Cam would do in 
this crowded bus if I teased his knob and he had to remain silent.  When my 
fingernails drew across the material of his chinos to tickle the bloated 
glans, he jerked, squeezing his legs together to hunch away from my grasp, 
but almost simultaneously he jerked his legs open again, inviting the awful 
tickle, because, as I would learn, that's what Cam lived for.  The dude just 
wanted to get off, and the more sensation-especially on his cock head, the 
better he liked it.  I gripped his prick and let my fingers focus on fat 
tip, making him strain his legs out reflexively and draw in gulps of air, 
stretching relexively as his ejaculation became imminent.  Apparently he 
didn't mind spunking his briefs, cause soon he was bucking gently as his 
prick launched his teen cum into the white briefs, writhing and squeezing 
his eyes tightly, as my fingers continued to drain every bit of his 
ejaculate from the turgid shaft.  Finally, when he could stand the tickle no 
more, he pushed my hand away, and panted quietly until he feel asleep for 
the rest of the ride.  For my part, I was determined to get my hands on Cam's 
big boy cock as soon as I could.

The next time we hooked up was at a party held by one of the sophomore girls 
from the high school.  We were fifteen, and soon would be in high school, 
but had met some of the girls by going to the football games and hanging out 
with the kids near our age.  The girl's parents were outta town, and shit 
was going down all over the place.  Guys and girls were drunk off their 
asses, and guys were sucking face, fingering pussy, and pinching tit to beat 
the band.  But these were older guys from the high school, and younger punks 
like us were out of luck.  Cam was trashed, and when I saddled up to ask how 
he was doing when I spotted him in the kitchen pouring himself more hard 
stuff, he just grunted how fucking horny he was; his usual mantra.  I 
smiled, and with a heady temerity asked what he was going to do about it.

"Fuck, how the hell can I do anything, with all these high school pricks 
getting the pussy.  He reached down and gripped his telltale boner, and I 
smirked and said "Shit, that hasn't stopped you before."  He looked at me 
through his soggy eyes, and said, "you wanna have a dirnk?" and offered me 
his glass, spilling some of the rum as his drunken hands reached out to me.

"Thanks dude.let's go down to the basement and party," I suggested casually, 
and like a puppy dog, he followed.  I saw the door to the basement, and when 
we went in, I looked around and latched it once we entered so we wouldn't be 
disturbed.  I found that Cam, once drunk, surrendered his body to whatever 
was going to happen, as long as he was going to get his nut.  Within 
minutes, I had his pants at his ankles, his shirt unbuttoned, his flip flops 
abandoned so he could flex his long toes, and his prick firmly in my grasp. 
He bucked and writhed over the old couch we found downstairs, and as I 
reached up to pinch one of his tits, he whined out loud and shot streams of 
his cock snot over my hand, and into the air.  I let my roiling fist keep 
milking his boner after he'd cum, and though he swore and demanded I 
stop--grasping my wrist with hands made strong from years of tennis---he did 
nothing to actually stop me from teasing his fat, swollen cock knob.  In his 
helpless, drunken state, I started licking his stiff teats, and stroked his 
body from head to toe until he was rearing and ready to cum again, and then 
thumbed another sticky load from him.  I left him to snore on the couch 
after I buttoned him up a bit, and I vowed that night would not be the last 
time I drained Cameron Collier's spunk filled balls.  It wasn't.

Many a Friday night in high school, especially when we were sixteen year old 
freshmen, but even later when he could not find a chick to bang in our 
junior and senior years, I would offer to take him out to the drive-in to 
drink.  That was our standard excuse, and it was our unspoken code.  We 
never discussed our trysts and he would brag about the pussy he'd fucked 
like that was his only predilection.  If he was interested, and more times 
than not he was, we'd get together after dinner and I'd bring the booze.  We'd 
take my parent's van, and start drinking before we even gotten into the 
drive-in.  We'd park toward the back, away from the lights and snack area; 
there were always dead areas where guys and their chicks could fuck and suck 
without drawing much attention.  We'd park, and then get in the back seat 
where the tinted windows of the van offered us the maximum privacy.  In the 
darkness of the lot, and secluded from other vehicles, we had time to get 
drunk without drawing anyone's attention.

By the time we were seniors, I had added some spice to our meetings. I never 
knew if Cam approved of the stuff I did, or just accepted it since he was 
usually smashed by the time our exploits began.  I had been going to 
internet porn sites from the time I was a sophomore and got my own 
connection in my bedroom at home.  I'd discovered bondage, and the mere idea 
of guys being restrained by women dominatrix, and then milked and fucked, 
made my six inch spike throb with delight, and leak copious amounts of 
pre-fuck.  The first time I tied Cam's arms over his head, and whispered in 
his ear that some bitch had him bound and helpless, he later came like a 
bull in heat in my rolling fist.  From then on, I had refined my methods, 
and played that boy like a finely tuned instrument.

One of my favorite memories was while we were supposed to be watching "The 
Russians Were Coming."  I had Cam in the back seat as usual, and he was 
cooperatively stinko.  I took both of his hands, and wound the rope around 
his wrists, tying them together, and then using the steel seat leg behind us 
to anchor the rope and pull his arms over his head.  Then I reached down and 
unlaced and pulled off his lowtops, sliding off his socks at the same time. 
Then I tied each ankle to the bottom of the front seats, respectively, 
stretching his legs apart.  I stuck a pillow behind his back, forcing his 
chest and stomach out and supporting his lower back; now for the fun.

I always started by using my fingers to tickle inside his ears, over his 
lips and under his nostrils, and then over his pronounced Adam's apple. 
Straight guys have no sense of their own bodies, and Cam was always 
pleasantly shocked by how sensitive he was to my fingertips and fingernails, 
scratching, scraping, and flicking over his body.  Eventually, I would get 
down to his pecs, still outlined by his shirt or t-shirt, and I would scrape 
my index fingernail over the already stiff nubbins that punched out the 
material.  Fuck he was sexy, and I plucked and pinched through the material 
until his hip began to buck, he was groaning appreciatively, and I could see 
a wet spot forming where his fat fuck tip was rubbing against the material 
of his shorts and leg.  Finally, I would unbutton his shirt, or tug his 
wife-beater out of his pants, and slide my hand underneath the soft, warm 
cotton.  His firm abdominals would always shudder slightly as my fingertips 
grazed over them, searching out his deeply inny navel, my index finger 
rooting out any lint it could find and tickling deep into the sensitive 
hole.  He would grunt and hiss, and his cock would immediately burp more 
pre-fuck, beginning the inexorable slide towards his much needed 
ejaculation.  Then my other hand would reach up, and through the cotton, 
seek out his stiffly pointed nipples, an erogenous zone I had helped Cam 
discover.  He didn't know his tits could be so sensitive, but once I started 
plying them, he was like Pavov's dog, panting for more.  I scratched my 
fingernail over each exposed tit, and then grasped one, as my other finger 
continued to tickle and scratch inside his exposed navel.  Soon I would have 
him bucking hard against the bonds, pulling and moaning, as I whispered 
sick, dirty trash talk about pussy and cunt into his ears.  Then I would 
slowly unloosen his pants and lower the zipper, exposing his mounded boner. 
My wicked index finger would seek out his fat glans, and though the cotton 
briefs, find his wide corona and deliberately scratch around its pebbled 
surface.  He'd swear, and demand that I stop that shit and get him off, 
knowing full well I'd ignore his orders.  From corona to glans, my nail 
continued its relentless torture, while my other fingers under his singlet, 
scratching and pinching his turgid nipples.  Fuck, seeing this handsome high 
school jock stretched out and helpless would occasionally make me cum 
spontaneously, but my prick would never go soft.

Before the nights would end, I could occasionally make Cam cum twice, the 
first time in my calloused fist, and the second time using an old cotton 
sock filled with lube.  I would twist and slide my hand around the sock, 
using it like an oversized condom, spinning round and round his fevered 
prick shaft and bloated glans.  I loved to watch how his toes would curl 
tight, and his body would buck and grind after he came, but my attentions to 
his helpless prick knob would continue.  When Cam and I graduated, I never 
heard from him again, but at our ten year reunion he was there with a 
beautiful, big-titted blond and pictures of two kids.  I wondered who was 
taking care of his needs on the sly, knowing that his prick was too 
insatiable to remain confined to blissful domesticity.  I made a mental note 
to find out someday.  Even at 38 he looked damned good.

The kid I had in the back of my camper was a college kid walking home from 
the late shift at the Bongo Burger at the edge of town, and a couple miles 
from the campus and his dorm.  I drove past him the first time as he tried 
to hitch a ride the last couple of miles, but it was late and no one was out 
on the road.  I zoomed round the next bend, then drove back.  He paid no 
attention.  He was just some goofy college kid, dumb as shit when it came to 
common sense, and full of cum.  I turned my truck camper around, and drove 
up again, this time slowing as he stuck out his thumb and smiled broadly as 
I came to a stop.

"Where ya going kid," I asked as if I didn't know.

"Hey man, I'm just trying to catch a ride home to the college, just a couple 
of miles down the road.can ya give me a lift? He asked with an innocence 
that made my cock lurch in my pants.

"Sure kid, hop in.."

I offered him a beer, playing to his vanity, and he took it and had several 
swigs before he put the can down into one of the cup holders.  About 10 
minutes later he was out cold, the knock out drops I'd used to lace the beer 
by injecting the can, had done their work.  I drove past the college, and 
well into the nearby hills onto land I owned.  I parked inside the barn next 
to my cabin, ensuring that we would not be disturbed in my van.  Then I 
lifted him into the back of the cabin and began my work.

Stripping a mature college kid is not as easy as it would seem.but he was 
out cold and I had no problem manipulating him to get his shirt, t-shirt, 
pants, sneakers, and socks off.  I left his boxers on.I liked the way they 
looked on his cut, muscular body.  He must have played tailback on his high 
school football team, no where else to get that short, hunky frame, with 
thick legs and broad feet, and a bubble butt that just ached to be spanked. 
His chest was deceptively powerful, with sharp plates for his pecs, and 
berry red cones thrusting through the sworls of blond curls that covered 
each breast.  I tied him face down on the cushioned recliner, his feet 
hanging vulnerably over the edge.  I straped down his legs, turned his head 
to one side and placed a buckling hood over it so he could speak, but could 
not see.  The holes at his ears ensured he would hear everything I had to 
say.  I gave him a small injection, the agent to counteract the mickey that 
had put him to sleep.  As I waited for him to return from dream land, I 
flipped through his wallet.

His name was Justin Connor Maitland, and he was 20 years old according to 
the driver's license.  There were the obligatory pictures of friends posing 
in clown like expressions, and a picture of a lovely blond girl signed 
"yours forever, Karen."  He had his school I.D., and his employee card from 
Bongo Burger, and nine dollars in ones and a five.  I put his wallet down 
with the rest of his clothing, wondering if I had a boy that I could sell on 
the white slave market, or just a one night stand.  While my land was here, 
I didn't live here, so the chances of us running into each other again were 
slim.I am always careful.

As Justin stirred, I reached over with my hand, and grasped his strong heel, 
cupping it, and then sliding my hand slowly up his calf, to his thigh, in 
between them, tickling over the boxers to graze his balls, and up the line 
of his crack to his lower back and up the rest of his smooth, unblemished 
back.  The hair that profusely covered his arms, legs, trailed up his 
stomach and spread over his pecs, but was absent from his back.  I would 
later find out that what he lacked there, he made up for in the trough of 
his firm ass cheeks.  As he groaned, and then inhaled sharply, trying to 
understand why he could not see, I gripped one of his firm ass cheeks and 
squeezed it for good measure.

"What the fuck..dude.what the helll, hey, shit, fuck..lemme go.what the fuck 
is going on?"  I love college students, they are so articulate and erudite. 
I could follow each of his emotions as he realized that he was bound, 
hooded, and almost nude.

"Mister, hey, mister, you there.where are we.what happeded, Jesus, hey 
mister, you there?"

Before I answered I made him realize that my hand was still on his butt 
cheek by squeezing it again, and letting my fingertips trail down toward his 
crack where the material was now getting damp from fear.  "Shit, get the 
fuck off.hey, don't do that, who are you.shit, please say something, and 
fucking stop touching me..Christ. where the fuck am I?"  My oh my, what 
happened to that sweet boy I had picked up on the highway.suddenly he was so 
tough and in no condition to be so.  I'd tame that soon enough, but I wanted 
to enjoy his confusion and fear.  I slid my hand down from his butt over his 
hairy thigh, and down to his calf and foot.  As my hand moved, he continued 
to ejaculate curses and tried vainly to shift his body and legs, only able 
to curl his toes and flex them as well as scrabble his fingers over his 
head.  When I got to his size 10 feet.big for a boy his size, I felt the 
soft soles and meaty pads of each foot, separating the rather long, thick 
toes, and gently scratching underneath them and across the ball to his 
instep.

"Shit.fuck.stop that., his toes flicking helplessly, and straining as my 
fingernails gently scrabbled across his muscular feet. 
"Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh.shit..oooooooowwwww fuck, aaaaahhhhh, ha, ha, ha..ha, ha, 
ha..sotp, stop..aaaaaahhhhhhhh." He alternated squealing and yelling, 
telling me to stop which only increased my efforts, and made him clench his 
ass cheeks tight and continue to strain his feet in a hapless effort to 
avoid the maddening tickling.  I did this for almost ten minutes, making 
sure I wore him out a bit, before my hands began their trail up his legs 
again, luxuriating in the thick and increasingly damp hair covering them. 
The perspiration was half fear, half exertion from the tickling.but it all 
worked well, to make him seek a moment of quiet respite and he didn't insult 
me as my hands felt him up on this trip.

When I got to his butt, I let my fingers push the damp material of his boxes 
into his crack, and my index finger began to root a bit, searching for the 
magic portal.  He grunted, and then begged.

"Aaaaaagggghhh.shit.please, please don't..fuck..please.don't do this.." and 
he clenched his cheeks tight, hoping to avoid the inspection that was 
inevitable.  I had a way to deal with unruly boys who tried to resist..I 
pulled out the small slapper I had and snapped it against the nearby 
counter.  He reacted by turning his head, and again scrabbling his fingers 
and crinkling his toes.the realization that something bad might be about to 
happen.  It was time for me to speak to Justin.

"Justin, you don't know me, but let me make it clear, you will do everything 
I say and cooperate, and if you do, you'll be okay and be home sooner than 
later.  But son, if you don't cooperate, I'm going to have to keep you as 
long as it takes to make you understand who is in charge here.  Do you 
understand me, Justin?"  My tone was slow, deliberate and calm, and as I 
spoke, I let my index finger tease into his deep cleft, and gently tease and 
tickle at his tightly clenched portal.

"Why are you doing this, common Mister, I just wanna get back to school, 
lemme go and I won't tell anybody, common, please---don't!  Please stop.don't 
touch me like that, fuck.please, Mister."  As he spoke, my finger increased 
its intensity in terms of wriggling into his now perspiration soaked trench, 
and as I increased the pressure, his voice rose and became more excited.

"Justin, just one more time, I'm going to ask you to cooperate."  As I 
spoke, again deliberately and calmly, I snapped the slapper against the edge 
of the recliner near his thigh, and he shuddered from surprise as the shock 
of the sound registered near his body.  "If you keep resisting, I'm going to 
punish you, and its just going to increase the time you spend with me.do you 
understand?"  Then, as he still clenched his ass, I quickly and suddenly 
snapped the slapper against his near butt cheek, and left a slight red 
imprint under his damp boxers.  It wasn't meant to hurt, but to shock, and 
it achieved its goal.

"Jesus..oh my god..Mister, please.fuck..oh God.Mister, please, don't hurt 
me.don't hurt me!" he almost squealed.

"I won't Justin as long as you cooperate, so now, stop clenching you ass 
muscles, and from now on, don't resist anything I do.  Otherwise, I'm going 
to have to spread those handsome ass cheeks, and use my crop on you 
asshole.and that will hurt.get my meaning, son?"  In a ginger, almost 
defensive way, Justin began to force himself to allow my finger the room to 
wander inside his crack.and slowly, I reached his sweet tight slit, and 
scratched my fingernail against it through the soggy boxers.  This time, his 
toes strained outward as he forced himself to comply with my instructions in 
spite of his revulsion and fear, and when my finger tip tickled the ragged 
entrance, something happened he did not expect, he groaned 
loudly..Uuuuuuuuggggghhhhhhhh."

I looked under the raised surface of the recliner, and as I had it designed, 
the opening at his crotch revealed the thick, stubby head of an erection, 
thrusting through the fly of his boxers and exposed under the recliner.  I 
reached under and slid a cloth collar with a Velcro fastener around the 
beefy joint, and then secured it beneath the recliner to a bolt in the 
floor.  That way, Justin's big boner was secured under the table so he could 
not pull it back out, and the oversized knob was fully exposed to my 
ministrations.

Now I grasped a pair of shears and cut off his boxers, revealing the hairy 
trench of his ass, and let my finger dance and pry, finally tickling my way 
into his hot, clinging hole.  Initially he couldn't help himself, and he 
started to resist, so I whispered into his ear that bad boys had to be 
punished, and snapped the slapper against his taut ass cheeks.  He yelped in 
surprise, and begged me to stop, saying he promised to be good.  I responded 
in calm tones as the slapper came down on his pale, hairy hinny.   "Whap, 
whap, whap.."  "Now I know you'll be a good boy Justin, a very good boy.." 
"Whap, whap, whap.."  I hit hard enough to get his attention, but not so 
hard as to hurt him or leave welts.  I must say, he ground his hips into the 
table, and I wondered how he'd looked trussed up gagged, and bound, fucking 
a girl as someone administered stinging swats to his beautiful ass. 
Looking under the reclining table, I also say that Justin was a bit of a 
kink, his thick prick remaining rock hard and leaking after his spanking.  I 
returned my fingers to his hole, and warned him against any further 
foolishness. he whinned and moaned, but let me have my way.  Within minutes, 
I was gently masturbating his boy pussy, rubbing his fuck nut, and making 
him wail and tug his prick as he moved his hips, but there was no escape.

"Oh Jesus, Mister.ooooooohhhhh fuck..fuck..ooooooooohhhhh shit.aaaaagghhh" 
"Ooooooohhhhhhh God..aaaaaaagggghhhhhh."

>From the level at which I had the recliner, I could easily reach under it, 
and as I gently finger fucked Justin's itchy, hot hole, a place he had never 
touched or investigated himself, my other fist cupped his bloated fuck knob, 
and using a very soft touch, twisted my fingers and rotated my palm around 
his leaking glans.  He couldn't pull his cock away, and his toes again 
clenched helplessly while his hands scrabbled futilely, and he begged 
sweetly.

"Oh god, oh Mister.oooooohhhh fuck. ooooohhhh it tickles.. Stop, stop, 
Mister, aaaaggghhhh.no, no..aaaaaahhhhhh, Jesus..help me...aaaaahhhh it 
TICKLES!"

"Yes, Justin, it tickles, and we're gonna tickle it all night and see just 
what a big boy like you can do.."  It took thirty minutes of teasing, 
bringing him to the edge, then backing off and trying again, but Justin 
helplessly shot a load worthy of a big boy, and filled almost half a shot 
glass held under his flaring knob, and wide piss lips.  Then I teased two 
more loads out of him in this position, and fed it to him before I would 
agree to let him go.   The last time he came I used an electric tooth brush 
on his glans, corona and circumcision scar.  He wailed and squealed so 
sweetly as I tickled him mercilessly, and his toes clenched till they were 
white from the pressure, before he ejaculated one last time.  I let the 
bristles dance over his now exhausted cock head what he thought was one last 
time, making him cry out and beg he would do anything if I just stopped. 
That was what I wanted to hear, so I retied him face up, his legs over his 
head, and let him watch me as I masturbated him yet one more time for good 
measure, this time into his mouth held open with a funnel gag.  As the dregs 
of his last cum drained into the funnel cone, I smiled as he was forced to 
swallow his own swill, and I tickled his Adam's apple with my index 
fingernail as it bobbed.

The next dose of knockout drops was concentrated and the photos I took were 
perfect.  Justin returned to school the next day, but from that night on, he 
had a secret craving for fingers up his tight, blond ass, and his cock was 
often made hard by boys who touched him in casual, buddy ways making him 
blush in fear and secret longing.  It took another ten years, but his secret 
was discovered by his boss at a construction firm where he worked trying to 
support his wife and young child.  He ended up with a cock cage and anal 
prod secured up into him every day and often many nights-only freed to 
service his wife.  My prick leaked when I heard the news, imagining how 
stiff and horny Justin would be most of the time, waiting for his master to 
generously milk him dry when the occasion warranted it.

But Justin had been a passing dalliance; he was not the catch I was after on 
this trip.  I was on my way after bigger prey.  I had learned of an 
ex-Marine, now a security guard at a local prison, who had been married, but 
at 31 had been divorced for four years.  Strange thing about this security 
guard, while he hung out with the boys, and drank beer and talked pussy with 
the best in deep masculine, kinda meathead tones, he went home alone at 
night.  That peaked my curiosity and I decided to learn more about him.

He grew up in Boston, the product of Irish and Italian parents, dark hired 
smooth bodied; a big dumb chunk.  He was horny before he became an altar 
boy, and even as he went to confession and said his "Hail Marys" he was 
masturbating, sometimes under his robes.  It started by watching 
professional wrestlers on television as a kid.  He would grind his eleven 
year old four inch cock into the rug on the floor and achieve dry cums as 
the men strained and fought, rubbing their big bodies against each other in 
skimpy, clinging uniforms on the screen.  His eyes would close as the 
powerful sensations overtook him, sometimes making him writhe and shake, his 
pricklet expanding, and its fat knob scrubbing against the rough carpeting. 
But he had to be careful that his parents and siblings did not know what he 
was doing, even as his preteen prick expanded and throbbed from the sweet 
sensation. The sight of some big guy being subdued by another guy, forcing 
him to submit using a sweaty, almost naked body to do it somehow made Tony's 
big boy bone throb.  But he assumed that all boys liked such things, and 
never thought for a moment that such feelings made him less than a man. 
Indeed, as his thick penis grew, so did his pride in achieving cums, its 
classic dimensions and look earning his solipsistic and narcissistic 
admiration.  Boys like Tony were tough and the bigger their cocks, the more 
manly they were supposed to be.

He was never a big kid, but as he grew, like most short men, his sexual 
libido at times overwhelmed him along with the love for his cock.  When he 
started to cum, he would find ways to grind his prick into the cushions of 
the sofa or in his bed, encased in a wash cloth or cotton gym sock, and 
blast loads of sticky, slimy boy juice as often as was possible.  His strong 
rump would rise and his does would bend backwards as he drove his growing 
penis into anything that would chaff it into submission.  He would even jerk 
off at school, in the john after P.E., using his damp jock strap to wrap 
round his boner as he stroked his prick to the panting cums he needed so 
often and so badly.  From the day he started watching the wrestlers on the 
T.V., he liked the way some guys would take charge, and others would just 
take orders.  Tony had to be a tough kid in his neighborhood, but he liked 
being strong and silent, liked being the tough follower, never the leader. 
He was always one of the king's men.making sure that things got done, and 
order was established.  Inside, he wanted one of the boys he knew to take 
charge of him, but he just played along, did whatever the guys did, whatever 
he was told without betraying any sense of submission.  He was a strong, 
Catholic, meathead. destined to be a Marine and do what he was told on an 
official level, and to have a body that girls would want to touch and 
stroke.

My contact who had scoped out Tony, actually Anthony James Michael Bruno, 
said he grew up street wise, but shy.  At the age of fourteen he started 
screwing neighborhood girls, mostly because he needed to cum and 
masturbation wasn't as good as someone touching him, making him cum.  The 
girls he looked for were ones who would dominate him, take charge when they 
fucked.  He liked that.  Once, one of the girls he was screwing reached 
around and spanked his ass as he drove into her.and he came like a bull.his 
imagination taking him places that he shared with no one.  When he was a 
freshman in high school, he started to play football, and he learned how 
good a mouth could feel, not from a girl though, but from another guy on the 
team.  The two of them had decided to stay after practice one day, and were 
screwing around on the wrestling mat, when he sprung a stiff, thick, 6 inch 
boner.  The kid noticed, but said nothing until they were halfway home in a 
park that they often cut through on the way home.  He asked Tony if he had 
thrown a boner when they were wrestling, and Tony blushed, flustered, and 
said yes.  He wanted to lie, but this guy was taking charge, forcing the 
issue, making him confess.  His buddy, told him that he could help him, and 
told him to come with him to the park toilet.  Tony began to sweat, but his 
friend was so bold, so strong, and was telling him what to do.  He just 
followed, quietly, and inside the back stall, his friend shoved his jeans 
and briefs to his ankles, and reached up under his t-shirt to pinch and tug 
on his nipples, while sucking his cock furiously.  Tony had to grab onto the 
tops of the low partitions with both hands to steady himself and his knees 
felt weak the moment the hot, wet mouth engulfed his bulging glans, the 
tongue lashing round the sticky knob whipping it into surrender.  He blasted 
the most intense load of teen sperm he had ever shot---into another guy's 
mouth, and from then until he graduated from high school, he wished they 
would end up in the park, or his buddy's garage, having his cock blown to 
oblivion.  But they never spoke of it again, and Tony did what he did best, 
he followed.   So his cock ached for his buddy's hot mouth, but unless he 
took action it would never happened again.  That wasn't Tony Bruno.it never 
happened again.

Tony was an offensive guard on the football team, and there he just did what 
guys in the trenches do, block and hit, whatever the quarterback says.in 
tandem, like good soldiers.  No one knew, but when the quarterback barked 
orders, or yelled at the offensive line, it would make Tony's prick 
harden-especially when he got mad and swore, calling the line pussies, and 
telling 'em "to fuck" the guys across the line.  He loved it when he hit the 
guys on the other team, and they would knock him to the ground.  Later, out 
with friends, he would find a girl to screw, get drunk and fuck to the 
memory of those big boys hitting him and knocking him down, or the handsome 
quarterback pointing his fingers and swearing.

The day he graduated he signed up for the Marines, and within a year, he was 
married to one of the girl's he had screwed most often as a senior in high 
school, one who put up with no shit and gave the orders he liked to hear in 
the bedroom.  It was not so much that he loved her, but most of the guys in 
the barracks had girls or fiancés, and Tony just wanted to fit in.  In the 
gang bunkhouse of the barracks, there was little chance to jerk his bone, 
and he only had privacy in the latrine on occasion.  It was hard work, 
drill, drill, and an occasional wet dream that marked his first two years. 
Strangely, the dreams were not of his wife, but weird dreams of him in his 
Marine uniform wrestling with guys from the football team, and somehow, at 
the end, his turgid prick would pop streaming ropes of thick spooge into his 
shorts and onto the bedding, and his nipples would go stiff, almost aching. 
But Tony would not face these signs.  Instead, when he had leave, he would 
go home and screw his wife silly, fucking like a man on a mission, loving it 
when her nails scraped across his back, and she swore at him, calling him a 
big dumb bastard, and nothing but a prick without a brain--- demanding that 
he satisfy her.

Tony left the military after six years, and three years later he was 
divorced.  He never really explained to his friends why he and his wife had 
split, but that was Tony, few words and a quiet private life.  After a while 
she grew tired of his dumb jock routine, and even her orders were not 
reaching the level of satisfaction he needed.  But still he did not confront 
his needs directly.  He just started a new routine and masturbated to 
relieve his constant horniness.  When he joined the prison security force 
after he left the Marines, he was always on time, clean and neat on every 
work day, but with a quiet almost distant demeanor.  He would go out with 
the boys on Friday nights to drink or go to a baseball or basketball game, 
and once in a while they would get together for a road trip on the weekends, 
but Tony said very little about his life.  He would laugh at the jokes, talk 
pussy---mostly blushing, and he would join the guys in making comments about 
the cunt they saw on the street or in bars.  But that was it.  Little did 
they know, there was little more going on at home.

During the last year of his marriage, he started going to a seedy adult 
bookstore at the edge of town.  In dark sun shades and with a baseball cap 
low on his brow, he would go into a dirty stall at the end of the bookstore, 
latch the door, and drop in three dollars in quarters.  The first time, he 
kneaded his erect prick through his pants as he watched one of the queer S & 
M films where a guy dressed like a Marine was subdued by two others, 
stripped, bound and masturbated then fucked.  He had to take a wad of 
Kleenex and stuff them into his fly and briefs to prevent the flood of thick 
spooge squirting from his cock from wetting through his pants and 
embarrassing him.  As he got up to leave, he saw a long, thick penis 
sticking through a hole in the booth, dripping pre-cum.  He was freaked out, 
and hyper-ventilating, but it did not stop him from coming back again in two 
weeks.  This time, he alternated between watching the screen and staring at 
the hole in the booth wall.  Finally, a finger came through the hole and 
beckoned him to come to it.  He just stared, but when a napkin came through 
the hole and fell onto the floor with writing on it.he hesitated, then 
picked it up and read.  The note said "stick your cock through the hole and 
I'll suck it."  He kept reading the note for what seemed like minutes, 
staring at the words and thinking back to his buddy in high school.  Finally 
he stood up and ignoring the glory hole, began to rub the thick mound of his 
pants where his prick was pulsing and leaking in his briefs.  After ten more 
minutes, he loosened his fly and pushed down both his pants and briefs to 
his knees, exposing his unusually thick, six inch cudgel with his legs 
slightly spread.  He did not touch his throbbing boner, but looked down 
occasionally to watch drips of his clear pre-fuck drool from the wide piss 
lips, down to the floor, and then returned his gaze to the movie whirring 
ahead on the screen.  But then, without any warning, he abruptly turned and 
slid his fevered boner through the glory hole and hot wet lips, like the 
ones he had dreamed of since his freshman year in high school, closed around 
his fat knob.   Minutes later, panting and thrusting his hips, he was 
spunking bolts of jism into the vacuuming mouth that seemed to hold him 
captive, forcing him to stretch out against the partition and surrender to 
the unrelenting, siphoning lips.  From that day on, about once a month, Tony 
would get his prick sucked, his hands spread up against the wall as his cock 
was serviced and suckled into submission, his nipples aching as they poked 
through his shirt and brushed against the hard wooden partition.  He ground 
his body as closely as he could against the wall, to get as much of his 
penis down the cocksucking throat on the other side; fuck it felt so good he 
would close his eyes and whine softly from the sweet, overwhelming 
sensation, and the sense that he was helpless, in the control of the mouth 
on the other side of the wall.

After his wife left him, Tony went on the internet and found porn that 
peaked his interests, both femdom and male domination sites.  And he would 
find the time twice a week to fuck a fake cunt he had purchased on the 
internet in the form of an inflatable plastic life size doll.  Yet even as 
he fucked the doll, sometimes decked in his uniform, he would blindfold 
himself, occasionally tie his hands behind his back, and even gag himself 
once in a while.  On those occasions, he would shoot wads of thick gism into 
the doll's pussy, lined with soft material that he could replace each time 
and lubricate with soft tissue pads.  And when he came, he would imagine 
guys from the Marines whom he had known, or guys from the prison guard 
force, or even prisoners, who would be directing him in screwing his 
 "woman."  He was never in charge, and it made it all the more exciting to 
Tony to imagine that these tough men were in charge of his sexual activity. 
Anthony Bruno would still go to Mass, and even confession---and he was an 
active member of the prison guard weight lifting team, going with the guys 
on competitions that transformed his body into a tight, powerful machine. 
He wasn't a pro, not cut and defined too sharply, and without an ounce of 
fat.  But he was in top condition, as much to work out his constant sexual 
tension, as to make him strong.  Tony would throw erections constantly, and 
had to resist the temptation to jerk off each morning when he stood in his 
bathroom to piss, his morning boner and beautiful body reflected in the full 
length mirror as he finally willed down his erection and pissed.  Here was a 
guy who was ready for selection, training and shipment, and I would need to 
get some of his buddies among the local cops to help me, albeit reluctantly.

Among the Suffolk County troopers were three cops named Dom, Chet and Rick. 
I knew Dominic Christopher Morelli from a contact in the local lap dancing 
clubs.  He was a regular, and one night he got caught buying a cunt for a 
fuck on tape, after a lap dance.  From that time on, my contact made sure 
that Dom was a "recruiter" for us.  He could stay with his wife and family, 
nothing would change.but once in a while he was ours to use in a special 
sting or just for the fun of it.  He hated those times, but knew that his 
identity and life as a cop depended on our generosity.  If he produced, then 
he had nothing to worry about.  Dom was a pure Guido, a dark-haired Italian 
beef stick, with 7.5 inches of bull uncut cock, and heavy, hanging nuts.  He 
was covered in dark whorls of curly hair over his pale skin, and everything 
about him was big..his feet, his hands, his chest, his nipples.his ass.  He 
was a big boy.  Even at age 30, Dom was beginning to go just slightly salt 
and pepper, but at 210 lbs. of motorcycle cop, he was a wet dream cum true. 
Women would throw themselves at Dom and his buddies, but most of the time 
they would go home with hardons and talk pussy.  Dom's one night of 
indiscretion, cost him for years, and eventually would cost him even more.

We roped two other meathead cops, law and order types, conservative on the 
outside, but eating other men's wives' pussy and fucking them when they 
could.  We used Dom to help us, help us get photos, audio tapes and video 
occasionally on two other guys without them ever knowing how they were 
compromised.  Chet Daniels and Rick Hamilton were the two muscleheads we 
corralled.  The troopers and the cops from the local prison often drank 
together at a pub outside Boston, near to where Tony worked at a club on 
off-hours as a bouncer.  My operative made sure the blackmailed cops knew 
exactly what they had to do, to meet my demands.  Their job was to secure 
Tony for me.  Dom persuaded Tony to go out with him, Chet and Rick to drink 
off the job.  They learned his habits, his schedule, and that he followed a 
customary routine.

Finally, my night came.  Dom made sure he had a shift scheduled one Friday 
night on the graveyard so he could be at the club when Tony finished his 
shift and began the ten mile drive back to his home that followed quiet, 
deserted streets through the industrial part of town.  On a back road, 
almost an alley between dormant storage facilities, Dom put on the lights of 
his cruiser and pulled Tony over.  Initially, Tony buzzed from the beers he 
had been drinking, wondered who was stopping him.  But when he saw Dom, he 
smiled expecting that his buddy was going to share some info with him about 
their next get together, or just to shoot the shit on his late shift.  Dom 
took off his glove, and extended his hand to Tony, who reached out his 
window to shake the big Italian trooper's hand. But when the hands clasped, 
Tony felt a prick, and when he pulled his hand back, he looked at his palm 
to see a circle of pin-pricks.  It was the last thing he remembered.  His 
body slumped over in the seat, and he did not even see Dom reach into the 
vehicle to turn the key and switch-off the engine.  My van came from behind 
one of the nearby buildings, and soon, Tony was loaded into the back.  My 
operative drove Tony's vehicle and Dom, quietly melded into the night, his 
cruiser slowly driving out the area and back to his route.  As it turned 
out, Dom and his buddies decided to try and pull a fast one on me, but I 
would handle that later.  In the meantime, I had a big hunk Irish-Italian 
prison guard, and it was about to be my favorite time; training time.

Tony had his uniform in his gym bag in the trunk of his vehicle.  I made 
sure we took it with us, since I wanted to film him in his uniform.  When he 
awoke, he was reclining, tethered on a back-board.  He was fully clothed in 
his uniform, including his hat, boots and Sam Browne belt.  As he came to.he 
realized that his arms were secured over his head, and his legs were 
slightly spread and secured at the ankles in a manner that did not allow him 
to move.  He was gagged, but not blindfolded.it did not matter if he saw me. 
He would never see me again.

"Anthony.you are a fine specimen of a man." I smiled as I spoke.  His eyes 
were almost expressionless, in spite of his situation.  He did not seem 
scared, but his eyes did move from me around the room, and his head turned 
as he looked.  It was not a startled movement, but a deliberate one.  I 
flipped a lever and made the reclining board straighten upwards.  As it did 
so, Tony's big booted feet hit the floor.  I touched a switch and his arms 
which were tethered over his head to the top of the board now rose to the 
ceiling, and another switch secured his ankle stirrups to the floor rather 
than to the board.  With a careful adjustment, Tony was standing erect, 
stretched up, and his feet approximately 3 feet apart.  I wheeled up a chair 
and sat down.  "Now that's better Anthony.now I can begin my inspection," I 
smiled as I spoke, and removed his gag.  He finally reacted after gulping 
down some water from a squeeze bottle I held to his lips.

In the deep baritone of his Boston accent, he spoke; not frightened but in a 
curiously curious tone of inquisition rather than indignation.  "Whaaat 
investigation.?"

"Why of your body of course, well.at least it's yours right now.  Anthony, 
you are a perfect piece of male flesh, and I need to confirm my suspicions. 
So, I'd appreciate it if you would cooperate, because if you don't I'm going 
to have to use this nasty taser on you, and I wouldn't like to do that.  You 
know from your line of work what a painful form of behavior modification the 
taser can be.  So I hope you'll be a good boy.cause that's what you are isn't 
it Tony, I hope I can call you Tony?"  My smile continued and my voice was 
so casual that Anthony, like a big dumb lunk, just acted like the situation 
was normal.

I repeated my question, asking him if he was a good boy.  He looked puzzled, 
but not angry.  "I'm notta boy, I'm a maaan." was all he said in that deep 
monotone.

"Yes, Tony, you are a man, but from now on you're gonna be my boy, my good 
boy, and if you aren't then I have to use my taser.  So you're gonna 
cooperate, aren't you?"
 H just looked at me, almost expressionless.but I noticed that his fly was 
now bulging.  Something about telling him that he was my boy made Tony's 
thick penis erect, and it was mounding his uniform fly---fuck I love bulging 
crotches.  When I gazed down at it, so did he and he blushed deeply but said 
nothing.his eyes averting mine now.  "Yes, I think you're gonna be my big, 
good boy from now on Tony." I said with a smug attitude and tone.

I reached down to his stomach, and unbuttoned his uniform shirt.  His eyes 
did not go back to my face, but just looked down at my fingers.  He said 
nothing.  After unbuttoning the shirt, I then slipped my index finger inside 
rubbing it across his wife-beater t-shirt to root gently into his deep inny 
navel.  He just stared at my finger.but as my finger tickled and scratched 
inside the sensitive hole-pushing the material in as I rooted into it, I 
could see the front of his pants tent even further, and he took a deep 
breath.Christ, the big fucker liked what I was doing.

"Oh, Anthony, you like this..feel good does it." and at the same time I 
reached up to his powerful, sloping pecs and could barely make out where his 
nipples pushed the rough, thick material out through both t-shirt and shirt. 
Clearly he had big, stiff teats.  I used the index finger of my other hand 
to scratch across the pec ridge of the stiff material, and when I did that, 
his eyes closed and he inhaled rapidly, hyper-ventilating.  Just about that 
time, his tented uniform pants showed a wet stain at the location of his 
fat, oversized cock knob.  His dick had erected so hard, it had pushed from 
beneath his briefs and was lodged at an upward angle towards his hip.  The 
exposed glans was now drooling his pre-fuck, and apparently as I scratched 
into his navel and across his nips, he just burped more and more.  Fuck, I 
love ex-Marines and cops..they are bred for sex, its so deeply part of them, 
they are helpless to resist it.  I took his tie and threw iit over his 
shoulder, and continued to unbutton the remainder of his shirt, spreading 
the material exposing the clean white ribbed material of his wife-beater. 
His stiff nipples were poking out the material, and I could whiff just a bit 
of sweat mixing with his deodorant, the only acknowledgement that he was a 
bit anxious.  I reached up with both index fingers and scratched across his 
hard nips, feeling them stiffen more from my attentions, and Tony's knees 
buckled a bit and he swung slightly to one side, his eyes closed.  "Oh yeah, 
that feels so good doesn't it Tony.  Those big boy tits need attention don't 
they.  I bet none of the hick girls you knew in high school, or even you 
wife knew how badly those big boy titties needed to be played with, worked, 
supervised."  I pinched them gently, and twisted them, and he groaned out 
loud, his eyes still closed, forcing his chest out towards my fingers.

"Uuuuugggggghhhhhh.fuuuuucccckkk," he grunted in his "Baston" monotone."

"Yes, that's it, get it all out Tony.tell me just how good it feels and what 
you need.  I'm gonna make sure you get just what you need."  I looked down 
at his uniform pants and fly, and the wet spot had grown to almost three 
inches.shit, this big dumb Irish-Italian beef was a leaker.and a copious 
leaker at that..fuck yeah.

I pushed up his wife-beater, and leaned close to inhale the masculine scent 
of his hairy stomach, and to lay my head against the firm abdominals so 
clearly etched.  I let my tongue thrust into his navel, and reached up under 
the material of the wife-beater to reach those pointy tits unobstructed. 
When my fingertips grasped his tit tips and my tongue laved out his 
sensitive navel, he grunted and moaned loudly---"Gaaawwwd  Daaammmnn, 
fffuuuuucccck.aaaaaaaawwwwww," finally allowing himself to fully enjoy the 
sweet attention, twisting his hips in the vain hope that his cock would also 
be serviced.  This is what this big goofball had always wanted, through his 
high school days, through the Marines, and even at the prison where he was 
in charge.  Many days he would have rather have been left to the prisoners 
to let them manage his perfect body, do things to him and make him perform 
for them.especially the younger ones, so cocky and handsome.  He would stare 
at their big cocks in the showers, their big, athletic feet, and their 
muscular chests crowned by luscious nipples, and wished he was on his knees 
servicing them, growing hard in his uniform and even panting a bit at the 
thought of being their slave.  Now I was giving him what he needed, craved 
and would get from now on.

Within minutes I had him unzipped and his pants at his knees, his gleaming 
white briefs damp with ball sweat and pre-fuck, his bulbous cock head that 
had escaped from the confines of the white cage was leaking onto his hip 
bone, rather than wetting the material of his pants.  I took the fingernail 
of one hand and let it trail around his wide coronal ridge, scratching 
gently as my other nail continued to flick and scratch his aching tit nubs.

"Aaaaagggghhhh..fuck...oooooohhhhhhhh shit. aaaaaaaawwwwwww," he grunted, 
not yet articulating how much he enjoyed the attention, but by every 
movement and sound surrendering to it.  He had not ejaculated in two nights 
and his balls were full of his crud and his prick was desperate to be 
fondled. This was so much fucking better than screwing his fuck doll.and 
Jesus, his nips were getting pinched and twisted..oh fuck that felt so good.

His wide piss lips opened again and another long burp of clear sap drooled 
out, adding more to cover the straining glans now fully basted with his boy 
juice.  So I grasped the sticky glans with my index finger and thumb and 
rubbed, twisting at the same time, just enough to tickle him insanely, but 
not enough to bring him over the edge he so desperately wanted.  His hips 
bucked out, thrusting into my teasing ministrations, the tickle so sweet he 
had to have more.  Then he pulled his hips back in the next motion, trying 
to escape the wicked sensations that were focused on the helpless cock tip 
in such a manner as to tickle and not to satisfy.  But I stayed with him, 
sitting down and staring at his beautiful body in that uniform, opened and 
exposed and helpless being milked and teased, swaying as I masturbated just 
his fevered knob, making him squeal and whine, until he finally spoke.

"Jesus Christ.please stop, yer fuuucking killing' me.aaaaaaggggghhhh, 
shit.please man, please, yer killin' me!"  He still had not expressed any 
anger at his situation, only that he was aggravated that I wouldn't stop 
teasing him.  I stopped and looked up, his eyes were staring at my fingers 
now paused but still clinging to his cock head, rather than at my face, 
sweat beginning to drip from around the brow of his cap down his face, his 
chest heaving from his panting.  I smiled broadly and then responded, 
resuming my wicked fingering, but much more slowly and even more gently, 
barely feathering his pulsing glans.  He winced and groaned.thrusting his 
hips out again, hoping to get a more thorough wanking.

"Tony, you are a brazen slut, a straight acting male who wants nothing more 
than to have his big cock played with, but not by women, but by a man who 
can make you toe the line.  And I'm gonna train and prepare you for that 
life Tony, make sure we find someone who can supervise that unruly 
fuckstick, and keep it under control."  He looked at me with the first 
indications of fear, but it was tinged with hapless lust as my fingers 
danced over and around his wet prick knob.  Instead, he began turning his 
head back and forth, eyes shut, moaning softly and saying "No..No.please, 
you can't do this man..please, don't fuuucck with me..shit. please, 
aaaaggghhhhhhh."  But there was no passion in his pleading, only submission, 
and I teased his prick tip mercilessly to the edge of ejaculation, and left 
him panting and bucking.

After an hour, I pulled his briefs down to his knees to join his pants, and 
let his untouched shaft snap up and slap against his abdomen, I pushed his 
t-shirt up over his tits, exposing the turgid nubs and the sloping pecs.  I 
wheeled over a cart, and picked up two small clips with slender wires 
attached, and after licking and sucking, and gently biting his tits, making 
them as stiff and hard as I could, I clipped both.  He winced again, and 
groaned, but there was no begging, those slutty nipples finally getting the 
kind of treatment they had needed for years.  Then I got down on my knees 
and sniffed his big, smooth testicles, wet and funky with his pungent ball 
sweat, but like a perfume to me.  I lifted the big nuts up, and there was 
his ragged slit, exposed in his slightly spread legs, just revealing the 
crack at the bottom of his ass cheeks in this position.  I produced a small 
half inch round anal prod, four inches long and also wired.  As he watched, 
I lubricated it with a gel I dipped it into, wearing surgical gloves to 
protect my hands.

"You know Tony, I'll bet when you used to grind that big dick into girl's 
pussies, you wished they'd take their long fingers with those red 
fingernails and drive them up you asshole to soothe something deep 
inside.that empty feeling, huh?  Well, I'm not going to leave you 
unfulfilled son, I'm going to make sure that we get at the core of your 
needs.  See this sticky lube, it's from Brazil.  Got a buddy down there who 
gets it from the tribes in the interior of the Amazon.  You know they say 
this stuff could make a man scratch himself to death.  That's why I gotta 
keep you shackled when we use it on you..Oh, don't worry, I got an antidote. 
It's simple actually, but until I douche you with it, your rectum is gonna 
feel like there is an army of ants crawling up inside you, and it will itch 
like a son-of-a-bitch."  His eyes went wide, and he began to hyper-ventilate 
again, but his cock was rock hard, leaking more and more sap.  Yeah, I know 
my boy bitches.  I gently parted his ass cheeks, to expose the ragged slit 
of his anus with just a patch of dark hair around his rosebud, and then 
began to screw the small prod against the puckered lips.  Within moments, 
the itch at the entrance of his butch male cunt made him swing his hips 
wildly and start bellowing, forcing me to stretch him more tautly to prevent 
his gyrations from preventing my efforts.  It took about five minutes, but I 
eventually got the little prod lodged deep up his fundament, its rounded 
head with numerous little bumps, brushing up against his fuck nut.

"Oh Jesus fuck!..`AAAAAHHHHHHHH..OOOOOOOOOHHHH NNNNOOOOOO. FUCK, SHIT, 
MAWTHER FUUCCKER..AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH, HELP, OH GAAWD, STAAWP IT.. STAAWP 
IT.OOOOOOHHHHHH MY GAAWD..NO..NO..IT'S KILLIN' ME.OH JEEESUS. WHAT IS DHAT, 
ITS ITCHIN'.STAAWP IT.OH FUUUCCK..OH MY GAAWD..STAAWP IT!"  Finally, I got 
the big Irish-Italian mug to beg and whine like the pussy he was underneath, 
but to tell the truth no straight Navy Seal could resist the power of that 
gel.  I once saw a sixteen year old girl tied spread-eagle on a bed have 
waves of orgasms after the stuff was slathered into her pussy lips and over 
her clit, and a soft brush was fixed to barely make contact with her 
writhing flesh.  She finally fainted after screaming for thirty minutes.  It 
was unbelievable, and so were the sensations coursing through Tony's anus 
and rectum.

Finally I pulled out the piece de resistance, a clear plastic cap in a 
flexible elastic sleeve.   The cap slid over the bugling crown of Tony's 
cock, and had a rubber gasket around it that allowed the cap to snap just 
under his coronal flange.  Tony was one of those guys with a very wide 
corona, so the gasket clung securely under his prick knob and to his shaft. 
The cap was lined with a soft set of bristles that were also clear, and 
looked much like "angel's breath" used at the winter holidays to make 
mantles look like they were covered in snow.  These were in fact a form of 
conduit that conducted electrical current over and around whatever the cap 
sat upon.  It worked superbly with the gel, combining the ferocious itching 
with a pulsing vibration that would not allow the victim to achieve 
ejaculation, but made him feel like he needed to rub his cock knob furiously 
to relieve the awful tickle.  Unfortunately for Mr. Anthony Bruno, there was 
no hand free to help him, and none that was willing.

I switched on the little prod that was still firmly installed in his rectum, 
and when the vibrating hum reached my ear, I could see Tony's eyes were 
wide.and the words that came out of his mouth were music to my ears: 
"AAAAWWWWWW Jeeesus AND Maary, fuuucck...AAAAAGGGHHHHH, NO. 
NO.MAWTHER-FUCKER...AAAAAHHHHHH, SHIT, STAAWPIT---STAAWPIT.OOOOOOHHHH GAAWD 
DAMN..FUUUCK......NO, NO---HALP, SHIT PLEASE HALP ME..AAAAAHHHHH FUUUCCK 
NOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Tony, I'll be back in about thirty minutes, the effects of the gel will 
begin to subside, but some of the itching will continue to be intense..  I 
like the way those titties of yours stay nice and stiff when you're 
aroused.here, lemme pinch 'em a bit to take your mind off your asshole and 
prick."  I bent towards his chest removing the clips and put one of his 
rigid nips into my mouth, gently biting it, and letting my tongue lave it. 
At the same time, I scratched my index fingernail across the tip of the 
other one, gently pinched it, and then twisted and tugged, giving him as 
much sensation as I could.  Then I reattached the clips and turned on the 
juice, sending another low charge of electricity through his nubs.  His eyes 
closed tight, and he was panting fast, sweat pouring down his brow and face, 
from under his arms, and on his torso-groaning and pleading.   The horrible 
itch was driving him nearly insane, and he was relying on his training as a 
law enforcement officer to keep as much control of himself as humanly 
possible.  He would still shout, and squeal when an unusually powerful 
tickle or itch would make him clench his bowels and drive the merciless prod 
against his hard prostate, sending a desperate need to ejaculate to his 
cock.but the stimulation was not of long enough duration for him to squirt 
his spooge.  No, Tony Bruno was a trussed, dripping, fuck horny buck, being 
teased for my amusement.

When I returned to Tony, the guards working for me had finished their work. 
He had been unbound and stripped, his clothes soaking wet from perspiration 
generated by the awful tickle deep inside him, and the corresponding one on 
his fat glans.  His squeals and shouts had been reduced to a panting 
groaning, and they had no problem taking him down and removing his clothes. 
They stood him up, and attached a spreader bar to his ankles, cuffed his 
arms behind him elbow to elbow making his chest thrust out, and gagged him. 
Then they leisurely sponged him off, dragging the soft sponges over his 
sensitive skin and erogenous zones, from head to toe.   The clips and prod 
were removed, and he got a douche, standing up on his toes as they gingerly 
slid the enema nozzle into his fundament, and a cock wash that made the 
relentless itch subside but gave him another yearning erection, leaving a 
constant irritation that sought an unspecified form of relief and kept him 
tumescent.

Tony was then placed up on a plastic covered table on his knees.  His head 
was placed down on the surface, and his arms remained trussed up behind his 
back, elbow to elbow.  His legs were kept spread by the spreader bar and 
lashed to the table, his big feet and long toes now free of the boots and 
socks, the long, thick toes wriggling over the edge.  His head was also 
tethered down to prevent him from moving, and a cord ran from his bound arms 
to the top and bottom of the table, but above his body, to tighten his 
security.  I had a blindfold put on over his eyes, and then a mister was 
placed between his legs, with its small nozzle aimed at his ass pucker, 
barely visible in the deeply haired trench of his firm cheeks.  The guards 
pressed a button, and out shot a gently focused stream of oiled mist, that 
caressed his clenching anus, creating a steady tickle at the entrance.  Tony's 
thick prick immediately hardened again, aiming up towards his head, and 
drooling from the wide, deep, piss lips.  A small bolster with a cushioned 
pad covered in soft bristles was placed on the table, just perfectly beneath 
his bobbing prick, and secured to its surface by velcro.  Every few seconds, 
his bobbing prick would droop to the level of the bristles, and on contact 
Tony's hips would wiggle from the sensation, causing the sensitive area 
beneath the piss lips to get a nice scrubb by the ticklish bristles.  That 
would make Tony's big boner lunge back up only to start the cycle over again 
in a few seconds, eventually drooping down against the pad to be irritated 
and scratched again.  He would gasp each time it happened.and I felt this 
current status was worth another sixty minutes of isolation.

Tony's nipples hardened as his thoughts were dragged back just over a year 
to something he had enjoyed at work; an opportunity to express the 
perversity that lived just beneath the surface and fueled his sexual 
fantasies.  On occasion, prisoners from the local municipalities were taken 
to the local state penitentiary when the County jail and their own 
facilities were full.  On a Friday night shift at 10:00 p.m., only two hours 
before he was to be off, Tony caught a delicious break whose memory made his 
prick harden even more as he lay tied on my table.  A punk named Morgan Ray 
Anderson had been brought in by a small nearby jurisdiction, where his 
obnoxious, drunk behavior at a local country bar had gotten him arrested. 
The local police had arrived to calm down a potential fight between Morgan 
and another guy over some buxom blond, but the stupid drunk Morgan had 
gotten lippy with the cops and threw a wild punch at one of the officers. 
Forty minutes later he was being processed at the Penitentiary since the 
local and county jails were full of Friday night traffic.  In the process of 
being arrested, Morgan had gotten a pretty good bruise on his forehead, and 
the admitting officer ordered a medical exam.  Morgan continued his yelling 
and screaming at the officers, and out of sheer revenge, the admitting offer 
insisted that he have a strip and cavity search.  Unfortunately for Morgan, 
the doctor also had his hands full in the infirmary, so he was assigned to 
an empty clinic exam room for the women prisoners at the companion facility 
that shared medical services.  The officers stripped Morgan and took him 
into the exam room, and placed him on the reclining exam chair, strapping 
his thick, hairy ankles and his size 13 feet into the stirrup cuffs, resting 
his meaty heels on the foot rest.  His arms were cuffed over his head, and 
the officers placed a gag into Morgan's mouth "to prevent any possibility of 
him swallowing his tongue" according to the records, but they just wanted to 
shut him up and humiliate him.  The angry, hairy redhead roared into his 
gag, but he was a pitiful giant, 6' 2" inches tall, a massive mounded chest, 
hairy from the tips of his toes to his fingertips.  At 23 years, he was a 
well built machine, designed for the pussy hunt and cunt banging each 
weekend.  But he was also as dim as a bulb, and his daily job as a package 
delivery driver was just the speed for his 180 lb. frame.

Since no prisoner could be left alone, Tony was pulled from his regular 
assignment in the commons area to baby-sit Morgan, and it gave him an 
opportunity that made his cock drip, though he did not fully understand why. 
He and Morgan were isolated from contact and with the infirmary for men over 
subscribed and holding the doctor captive, he was assured of privacy for at 
least 1.5 to 2 hours.  He recalled that when he entered the exam room, his 
cock was rigid and his breath was coming in small gulps.  In his fevered 
mind, Tony had decided that he wanted to be Morgan, wanted to be strapped 
down and helpless.  But he could never admit that or say it.  But he wanted 
to see how a strong male body would respond to being used like a toy.  Once 
he closed the door, Tony took off his hat, and pulled off his jacket.  He 
walked up to Morgan, who eyes were narrow slits of hate, and who was still 
bellowing into his gag.

Tony looked at Morgan expressionlessly, so excited that the young man's body 
was like an extension of his own. He was sweating, wet stains beginning to 
appear under his arms, darkening his uniform shirt.  He went to one of the 
cupboards and opened it, searching through the medical supplies.  He pulled 
out a large tube of medical lubricant, and then found some small clamps and 
bandage materials.  He found packets of sealed tooth brushes given to 
patients, and medical gloves.all things he instinctively felt he could use. 
He had been going to websites for months, and his fantasies, when he allowed 
himself to masturbate, were filled with visions of male cock control.

He walked up to Morgan, and without even looking into the young man's eyes, 
he licked his index finger and lowered it to Morgan's mounded pectoral 
muscle, searching through the maze of red hair that circled the areola, he 
scratched his fingernail against the erectile flesh and watched as the fat 
bud of the nipple nub popped up reflexively to the deliberate stroking. 
Morgan's eyes widened as if he had been hit with a cattle prod, and he 
bucked up on the reclining chair, thrusting up his hips, and straining 
against the bonds that were holding him, even his hapless brain was smart 
enough to realize that he was about to be queered.  With firm determination, 
Tony kept working the tit, and then gripped the slutty, stiff nip and 
twisted it one way, then the other, remembering how girls in high school 
gasped when he did that to them.  He had played with own nipples in the 
shower, sometimes facing the mirror in the bathroom, and it made him gasp 
when he tugged on them, or used a fingernail to worry them.  Fuck, he knew 
what Morgan was feeling, and it turned him own to see the big dumb punk 
helpless and his body responding like the slut that Tony was.. As Morgan's 
nipple hardened, Tony reached up with his other hand, licked the fingertip, 
and went to work on the other tit.  Even as he bellowed, Morgan's cock began 
to rise, and his eyes closed, squeezed tight to avoid seeing what was 
happening to his body.  Shit, a cop was molesting him in the goddamn 
jail.fuck.he was bound, gagged, and alone with this pervert faggot.oh FUCK! 
As the big pale shaft rose, its downward curve arched like the neck of a 
flexible lamp---its fat knob bloated and larger than the stalk itself.  Tony 
gripped the firm shaft just under the head, and his smooth palm rolled up 
and over the glans.  Within moments, the chaffing of Tony's fist produced 
bubbles of clear pre-sap from the wide piss lips, and as he smoothed the 
natural lubricant into the knob, Morgan groaned involuntarily, blood gorging 
his bloated cock and the tickle that every man craves was itching the 
fevered cock knob.

Tony kept looking at the door and the clock as he masturbated the big 
redhead, and plucked the boy's firm tits.  Tony suddenly stopped both the 
masturbation and tit work on Morgan, and quickly slipped a glove over his 
right hand.  He squeezed some lubricant onto his index finger, and with his 
free hand, he spread the taut, firm cheeks, thick with dark auburn hair. 
Using his free index finger to part the hair and scratch the pink halo of 
Morgan's ragged slit.  Again Morgan bucked, thrusting himself up to escape 
the touch of the faggot cop who was violating him, roaring into his gag from 
the thought of some dude violating his sacred portal.  Then just as quickly, 
Tony slipped his gloved finger into the breach, and wormed his lubricated 
finger into the resisting hole.  Morgan bellowed and squeezed his sphincter 
tight, but Tony patiently persisted, scratching and probing, until Morgan, 
drunk and struggling to keep himself under control, lost it when Tony 
reached up and pinched one of the raspberry nipples thrusting through the 
hairy forest protecting each of Morgan's muscled pecs.  Taking advantage of 
the distraction, Tony's gloved finger slid up and into the warm, clinging 
fundament of the redheaded boy. 
AAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHH..NNOOOOOOOOOOO..AAAAAHHHHHHH! Morgan wailed into his gag. 
Tony abandoned the tit work only long enough to pick up one of the tooth 
brushes, and then went back to masturbating the fat wet cock knob with the 
bristles from the tooth brush as he simultaneously stroked the firm knot of 
flesh he encountered deep in Morgan's rectum.  Morgan's eyes bulged when the 
wicked bristles began to scour his bloated fuck tip, and he continued to 
squeal and wail, but his hips bucked now reflexively to thrust his pulsing 
boner into the worrying instrument of his torture that was ruthlessly 
buffing his cock head, scrubbing it deliciously, and chaffing the coronal 
ridge, making Morgan's long, thick toes curl tightly from the overwhelming 
sensation.

Tony bent down, and closed his lips over one of Morgan's aching nipples, and 
sucked hard, nipping and laving the stiff red nub with his tongue.  Morgan 
had never experienced so much sensation.  For him, sex had always meant the 
excitement of driving his trophy prick into a tight, wet snatch until the 
gripping cunt muscles mauled his fat knob into an explosion of spooge, and 
the power of dominating the squealing, begging cunt he was fucking. Now it 
was Morgan's body that was being dominated, and sensations he had never 
known were overtaking him.  His ass was aching, and yet the finger rubbing 
something up inside him made his cock flex automatically, and his fat prick 
knob kept expanding into the relentless bristles of the tooth brush, 
wringing pre-fuck and an amazing tickle from the helpless erection.  Plus he 
had never had anyone focus on his nipples.  Yeah, a chick would make him 
shiver from dragging her sharp nails over his chest once or twice, but the 
way Tony's mouth nursed on the little prick like nubs, competed with the 
finger up his ass and the twisting fist that was driving him higher and 
higher, closer and closer to a massive cum.  A dude was going to get his 
nut.AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH   FUUUUUUUCCCCCK.. NOOOOOOOOOO!  It took only ten 
minutes, and Morgan began sucking breath in gasps even as he wailed into his 
gag, lifting his ass even as Tony's unrelenting finger fucked in and out of 
the tight hole.  Morgan's fat glans expanded obscenely and it went glass 
smooth as the unforgiving bristles dragged over and around the huge 
unprotected knob.then eight long bolts of blue collar spooge spurted from 
the flared lips, launching out onto the floor, and coating Tony's now 
squeezing fingers.  He stared at Morgan's thrashing, moaning, helpless 
surrender to the ejaculation that was consuming him, and Tony wished he 
could be on the other side of the fucking and milking fingers.  Morgan's 
explosive humiliation was Tony's fondest wish.

The moment Morgan blew his spooge from the taut, bloated cock knob, Tony 
dropped the tooth brush and went to milking the cock knob ruthlessly with 
his fingers and palm.  As he did so, Tony ejaculated spontaneously into his 
own pants.  He knew the moment he saw Morgan dissolve into the massive cum, 
the handsome redhead tossing his head back and forth as the sperm rocketed 
from his bulging cock head, that that was what he craved and needed.  Tony 
was fascinated by the young man's throbbing erection and how the finger up 
his ass seemed to make more and more cum burst from the lips.  Finally, 
Morgan was whinning, pleading through the gag for Tony to stop as his finger 
continued to work the fuck nut deep in Morgan's ass.  Realizing what he was 
doing, Tony stopped fucking the finger, and slowly pulled it out, and wrung 
the last cum from the sensitive cock knob, making Morgan gasp and grunt from 
each twist of his fist, his body spasmodically jerking to the too ticklish 
fingers dancing over the still spamming glans.

Tony never forgot that night.  Little did he know that when the prison 
doctor later came in to perform the cavity search that his gloved finger 
would cause another spontaneous ejaculation from Morgan, his fevered brain 
anticipating the amazing touch that Tony had introduced him to.a feeling he 
would have to have again, even as he tried to forget how he had learned of 
it.  For his part, Tony masturbated to the thrilling image of Morgan's 
trussed humiliation over and over, wishing he had been Morgan, and the big 
redhead had been in charge of him.  He wondered what it felt like to be 
milked from the inside out.  Now, lying on the table, strapped down like 
Morgan had been and his ass pucker being teased, Tony was drooling pre-cum 
in anticipation of what he had wanted every time he gently inserted his own 
finger up his ass while he showered.  Jesus fuck, he loved the way his 
finger felt deep up his ass.and how it made his cock cum spontaneously at 
times.  Now his prick was pulsing and his sphincter was clenching, waiting 
for what he hoped would be what he had always wanted.

I walked up to Tony, and whispered into his ear."Anthony, I'm going to slip 
two fingers in your mouth, and I want you to suck them nicely, licking my 
fingers with your tongue, and hollowing out your cheeks to suckle them as 
strongly as you can.  But if you bite me, I'm going to cut off your balls 
and feed them to you.do you understand?"  I spoke in such soft, soothing 
tones he instinctively understood I meant what I said.  I removed his gag, 
and introduced my index and middle finger of my left hand into his mouth. 
He started slowly, tentatively, but soon, he was sucking steadily, and I 
fucked his mouth like a prick, making sure he understood his role."That's it 
Anthony, that's a good boy, suck Daddy's big fingers.suck and lick 'em, 
ooooohhhhh yeah, that's a good little slut, show me how much you like to 
suck..yeahhhhh!"

"Now I'm going slide my fuck finger up your cunt, Anthony.  I want to see 
you fuck that big, butch ass onto my finger and show me how much you 
appreciate being finger-banged.cause you know that's what you want and 
need.understand.  I'm gonna fuck you front and back, so you know just what a 
big boned, hard titted, dick drooling slut you are."  Tony's cock belched a 
big drool of clear sap onto the cushioned pad and his prick barely vibrated 
over the tickling bristles that continued to rasp against his bouncing prick 
shaft and knob.  Fuck, if he could just get some more friction, he could 
shoot his cum.. Jesus, he wanted to cum so bad.

I used my thick fuck finger to tickle through the wad of dark hair that 
fringed his tight anal slit.  The moment my nail scratched against the 
hidden entrance, Tony bucked his hips and reflexively drove his ass against 
my finger.  Yeah, the big whore wanted it so badly his body tried to fuck my 
finger up his hole on its own.and within a minute, my lubed finger was deep 
inside the velvet tunnel, soft and slick, until I found his thick donut and 
began to gently rub and then more firmly prod it.  He gurgled around my 
fingers, trying to speak or squeal, but I didn't give a fuck, I just 
continued to finger fuck his mouth as I masturbated his rectum.  Eventually 
I added my index finger of my right hand with the long fuck finger, and I 
watched as Tony's long, thick toes squeezed and spread helplessly from the 
aching deep inside him.  I was perfectly balanced, driving my fingers into 
Tony from both ends, on his hands and knees, head down, ass up, bound and 
spread for my use.  Fuck.it was unbelievable!

I brought Tony to the edge about every ten minutes for an hour.making him 
plead finally when I extracted my fingers from his mouth:  "Aaaaaaggghhhh, 
Jaysus, oh fuuucck, oh gawd..please.don't.don't..aaaaaahhhhhhhh, please, 
ooooowwwww."

"Tell me Tony, tell me the truth.say 'Daddy, I'm a big boy slut, and I want 
you to fuck me till I cum.say please Daddy.'"  He squeezed his eyes tight, 
panting and whinning, and then asked me again, incoherently."Please owwww 
fuuuck..aaaaawwwwww, no, no, ah shit.please, please...!"  I responded 
patiently, but without stopping my fingers from their unerring mission deep 
up his rectum:  "No, no.no what Anthony..tell Daddy, say 'Daddy I want you 
to fuck my big boy ass till I scream for more.say fuck me Daddy, and make me 
your bitch.tell me Tony, say I'm a big boy slut and I need to be fucked and 
milked for my own good.."  As the hour drew to an end, Tony, covered in 
sweat and moaning constantly, finally surrendered.

"AAAAAHHHHH.JAYSUS.OH GAWD DAMN.FUUUCK..YEAH, YEAH.PLEASE DADDY, PLEASE 
FUUCK ME.FUUCK ME AAAAAGGGGHHHH, I'MMA A SLUT, I'MMA A CUNT..PLEASE FUUCK 
ME, MAKE ME CUUUM.OOOOOOHHHHH JAYSUS..MAWTHER-FUUCKER.MAKE ME YER BITCH, 
FUUUUCCCKIN' JUST LEMME CUMMMMMMM!"

"I elevated the bristles under his prick, letting them constantly come in 
contact with his pulsing shaft, then I reached under his chest and let my 
left index finger scratch his nearest nipple, bruising the hard nubbin and 
then focusing my fuck finger on his man nut purposefully, not letting up 
when I knew he was close, but massaging it ruthlessly.  Tony wailed a long 
deep cry, and his cock flexed against the scratching, tickling bristles, 
wrenching a massive ejaculation from him.  Cum burst from the wide, flared 
piss lips, wetting the bristles and making the unescapable contact even more 
unbearable, and coupled with my strumming finger deep inside him, even as 
his muscles clenched with each ejaculatory burst, and my other finger 
working his hard nip, Tony just surrendered to the sensations he had 
imagined and longed for over the years.

After he stopped yelling and cumming, I reached up and milked his still 
stiff bone, concentrating on his wet, sticky glans by dragging it back and 
forth on the bristle pad, making him plead again for mercy:  "Oh 
Crwist.stop, stop.I can't take it..oh fuuuck.please.oh Gaawd, help 
me.fuuuuck.please..aaaaaaagggghhhhhhhh."  I made him do it my way:  "Tell 
Daddy you'll be a good boy and do everything I say, and tell Daddy thank 
you..."  I chose to make him subordinate himself to me like a little boy 
because I wanted to ensure his complete capitulation.  The macho security 
guard who had faked years of Mr. Strong and Silent was now my sniveling slut 
boy, wanting nothing more than to surrender his big boy boner to his new 
master, but I needed him to articulate it, say it, hear the words from his 
own hapless mouth.  "Oh Gaawd, yes, I'll be good, please, I promise, I'll be 
good.aaaaawwwww, please I'm sorry, I was bawd, but I'll be good.oh fuuuuck, 
please, yes, and tank you Daddy.tank you Dude, please oooohhhhh."

"That's it Tony, that's my big boy." I stripped the fat, succulent knob one 
last wringing time, and then slipped my finger into his mouth, and told him 
to suck them clean which he did enthusiastically."mmmmggggghhhhh.mmmmmmmnnnnnnn..hmmmmmm."

Next I had Tony tied standing in a shower and watched as the guards soaped 
him from head to toe, and administered two soapy enemas, leaving his hole 
clean as a whistle, and gently lubed to allow him to recover.  His cock 
sprung another hard bone, and they soaped it under my careful instructions, 
making sure his circumcision scar and coronal ridge were thoroughly washed, 
but short of another much wanted ejaculation.  He said nothing, but hung his 
head with his eyes closed, panting when they brought him close to the 
edge.only to leave his penis pulsing helplessly.

That night, before he went to sleep, I explained that he was now the 
property of a wealthy owner in Argentina who had selected him specifically 
from a field of potential candidates.  He would live a privileged life, but 
would never again be allowed to touch his penis unless he was given 
permission.  His eyes looked at me fearfully, the gag in his mouth 
preventing him from protesting though he grunted helplessly into it.  But 
even as I spoke, with him bound spread eagled on the bed, his prick snaked 
up to full erection, thrusting up, and leaking again as I described his 
subjection.  I held his pulsing, leaking boner, rubbing my thumb over the 
sticky glans, and smiling I spoke gently of his new life.  "You'll get to 
wear your uniform often Anthony, dressed to please your new owner, often 
bound, with your hard prick thrusting out of the fly, leaking streams of 
pre-jizz.waiting and hoping that he will milk you dry and give you the 
relief you need and want.  You'll thrust out your hips and plead as the 
drops of lube leak to the floor, panting and wheezing for a good cum.  But 
the days of jerking that fat prick, and shooting scum to satisfy your horny 
fuck lust, those days are over my boy.  That big prick is now the personal 
property of your new owner, and you'll learn to earn your cums at his feet. 
By the way, he's an Argentine internet zillionaire, and he's young enough to 
be your son.  You'll start be learning to suck his long, thick athletic 
toes.and work up from there."  The moment I said those words his prick 
burped a slug of the sticky lube, pooling in his deep navel.  I gently 
scratched my fingernail against his circumcision scar, making his prick 
pulse and buck, and forcing him to grind his ass into the bed, his eyes 
suddenly closed.  I grasped one of his hard tits and twirled it gently, 
tugging and pinching, making him once again gasp for release.  But once I 
had him worked up and ready, I got up, turned off the light and left him to 
his fitful sleep.  He would be bound wrist to ankle and ankle bar, 
blindfolded, gagged and a small anal prod inserted into his lovely rectum, 
for the trip to the airport, before being tethered to a leather recliner in 
a cargo container for his long trip, facilitated by an injected 'mickey' to 
keep him passive during the long flight.

He looked at me one last time before I left the room, his eyes pleading, and 
I smiled and said good bye; "farewell Anthony, dream of how many times per 
month you'll be allowed to cum, and how sweet it will be when you are milked 
dry."  Then I left Anthony James Michael Bruno, his long, thick toes 
wriggling helplessly under the blanket.  I was looking forward to the first 
video I had requested as part of the deal, watching his new owner drain Tony 
for the first time.

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25

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