Day 4 - Part 2

For his part Fat Sam blamed Scott for ruining his slave trading empire. He

swore that someday he would have his revenge. Fat Sam moved his business

interests into other areas of human depravity, and of course he made


For three years Fat Sam kept tabs on Scott. When he got word that Scott

regularly crossed the border to play with a combo in a Mexican cantina Sam

knew he had his chance. When he heard that Scott had a boyfriend and that

the boyfriend was going to be with him in Mexico, Fat Sam knew the time was

right. He had waited three years to get his hands on Scott.

Now he had him!

Eleven Months Before 'Day 4' in California:

Scott found himself on the table looking up at Fat Sam. Then at Sam's

direction the table was shifted so that Scott was upright and facing his

demonic kidnapper. Scott was still tightly bound to the table, wrists,

ankles, waist and neck; he was plastered against the damn contraption.

Fat Sam smiled, 'I've been waiting three years for this little rendezvous.

I can promise without a doubt that this will be the most exciting weekend

of your life, little Scottie... May I call you Scottie?'

Scott shot back, 'Listen you fuck, you can call me anything you damn well

please. Either you'll kill me or sooner or later I'll get off this table

and break your fucking neck.'

Sam smiled, 'Scottie, your biggest problem is that temper of yours. You'd

think a senior control like yourself would have better command of his


Scott returned, 'Sam, you're a pig and you disgust me. There's not a

scintilla of value in your existence. Every minute you live causes other

people pain. You're a disease on humanity and I'd love to be the cure.

I'd like to eradicate you. I saw what you did to those kids you kidnapped;

anyone who could do that is just plain evil. I don't control my temper

around you because I don't want to. I want you to know just how much

animus I feel for you... you miserable fuck.'

Fat Sam smiled, 'Scottie, Shakespeare said that revenge is a dish best

served cold. I agree with that sentiment. I've waited for this moment.

I've waited to properly thank you for ruining my slave business. You cost

me millions and I intend to extract every penny from your flesh... slowly.

So dear Scottie you'd best get your emotions in tow. You're going to be my

personal pussyboy starting now.'

Scott shook his head, 'You'd better put a bullet in my brain right now

fuckface, because I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire. Just kill me

and get it over with. Besides, I expect my brother and his pals will be

here any minute to end your life and rescue me. You know my

brother... he's the guy who runs half the world.'

Sam scratched his head, 'Dear Scott, you underestimate me. Just where do

you think you are? We took you in Juarez, but we didn't stay there. My

boy we moved. We're in my headquarters now. We're just outside Tijuana,

in my compound. It would take an army to get in here. Besides no one

knows where this place is. Hell Scottie, no one knows where you are. So

get those ideas of rescue right out of your head. I've got you. You are

mine... all mine. And before this weekend is over you're going to be my

willing pussy, my personal cuntboy.'

Scott just smiled, 'You're gonna need more than an army for that; you're

gonna need a miracle...'

Sam interrupted, 'Scottie, you should shut the fuck up till you have all

the necessary information. You see, we did more than just kidnap you. We

did more than just move you across the country. While you were sleeping we

were getting to know a friend of yours.'

And as Fat Sam snapped his fingers Scott felt his stomach tighten. One of

Sam's men opened the heavy metal door and another of Sam's cookie cutter

blondes (the famous Jaws) walked into the room tugging on a leash. Scott

wasn't prepared for what he saw next. At the other end of the leash, Jack

came crawling in on his hands and knees. He was naked and sticking out of

his ass was the other end of a long double headed dildo. Jack's eyes were

unfocused and cloudy; his mouth was open and he was drooling. It was

obvious that he had been drugged... and god knows what else.

Sam beamed a big smile, 'Scottie we have all come to know and love your

friend Jack. We've come to know him and we've come in him and we've come

on him. He's been very accommodating. I can see why you find him so

charming. He's a gifted communicator. I go as far as saying that his

mouth is very persuasive. Now Scottie, before you start to make all kinds

of nasty comments and before you get any strange ideas let me TELL YOU A



Scott used every ounce of his control to hold his temper and think. His

mind was going a hundred miles an hour. He was calculating the distance

between himself and Fat Sam. He was going through every Kung Fu, Ninja,

Jiu-jitsu, Karate, and acrobatic move he'd ever been taught. At some point

they had to move him or take him off this table or reposition him. He

might only have one chance to strike and he was determining the best way to

make that strike. In a millisecond he decided to kill Fat Sam at all

costs. He'd break his neck or tear out his throat, whichever was easiest

before Sam's goons could kill him in return. He'd have maybe one chance

before he died to put Fat Sam down. It would be worth whatever the cost.

All these thoughts were racing through Scott's mind as Fat Sam drew his

next breath and continued his speech.

'Now Scottie, I know that all you Organization cunts are good with your

hands. I'd lay odds you're planning my death as I am speaking, but you'd

better listen to me. Do you see that doggie collar around Jack's neck?

See that cute little blinking LED? Well Scottie, there's enough C-4 in

that collar to blow Jack's head clean off his shoulders. Yup, you go for

my throat and either I or one of my men will press one of these little

remote controls and BOOM, there goes Jack's head. Now Scottie, is that

what you want? Do you want to have to explain to Jack's parents how you

loved him so much that he wound up losing his head over you? Scottie I

want your solemn promise that you won't try any heroics... none... or poor

Jack will suffer the consequences. And Scottie, I have one of these nifty

Organization gizmos that does a voice-stress analysis. It's gonna tell me

if you're being honest with me. If it says that you're lying. Well then

you're gonna watch as we make the rest of Jack's life a living hell, and

then we're going to blow his head off and I'll just kill you. It would be

a real bore, but I'm willing to do it. Let me just say this. If you don't

cooperate and you force me to kill your lover here; well Scottie I'm going

to do my very best to come up with the most gruesome torture I can possibly

think of.... and Scott, you know how creative I am when it comes to

pain... long... agonizing... misery.'

Scott thought it all over. He was trapped. This miserable fuck was

holding all the cards. Scott didn't have a choice. He could cooperate or

watch the guy he loved be hurt. That was unthinkable. He would do

whatever Fat Sam wanted. Anything to save Jack... Anything. Scott

summoned all his mental control; he summoned it and focused all his energy

in a new direction. For the moment he would do ANYTHING... ANYTHING. He'd

be Fat Sam's pussy; he'd be his whipping boy; he'd do whatever he was told.

Scott focused all his will in that direction, toward being totally

cooperative, totally submissive to Fat Sam... whatever he

wanted... ANYTHING.... ANYTHING.

Fat Sam was beside himself with glee, 'OK Scottie, you speak right into the

voice analyzer. Are you going to do whatever I tell you?'

Scott answered, 'Yes.'

Sam shook his head, 'Now Scottie, it's going to take more than that.... and

you fucking know it so stop screwing around. Are you going to be my boy?'

Scott answered, 'Yes Sam I will do whatever you want... I will be your boy.

I will do whatever you ask. Just don't harm Jack.'

Sam went on, 'And you will not try to hurt me or any of my men?'

Scott replied, 'No Sam... sir... I will not try to hurt anyone.'

Sam interjected, 'or argue, or be uncooperative.' Scott added, 'or argue,

or be uncooperative.'

Sam continued, 'And you're gonna be my pussy.... my whore... my cunt... and

do anything.... anything... and everything I ask of you.'

Scott tried to calm himself, 'and I'll be your whore, pussyboy.... whatever

you tell me. I'll be whatever you want Sam.'

Sam furrowed his brow, 'Now Scottie, this little thing-a-ma-jig is telling

me that you're being truthful, but boy I can see for myself that your heart

isn't in it. So lemme just spell this out for you. Scottie boy I'm

feeling confident that I don't have to worry about you trying to kill

me.... or my men. You aren't that stupid. I think you know that I'd blow

your lover's head off as easy as scratch my ass. So that part's pretty OK,

but Scottie, if you won't cooperate in all my games, well then let me make

it clear to you that I'll just use Jack here. You don't wanna be my

cunthole cumdump then I'll tenderize your friend here and use him. The

problem is that I can't vouch for his health and well-being. His ass, so

to speak, will be in your hands.' and Sam started to laugh, 'Did you hear

that Jaws? Jack's ass is gonna be in Scott's hands.... That's downright

funny.... Jesus, I should be a comedian... Now Scottie in your little love

matches with Jack here I don't know who does the pitching and who does the

catching, but I'd say it's a sure thing that Jack here, takes a lot more

than he gives. So you may just want him to take your place. Who knows, he

might like getting fucked by dozens of strangers. What do you think


Scott tried his damnedest to be sincere, 'Look Sam, I understand what you

want and I'm going to give it to you. I'll do whatever you say. Just

leave Jack out of it. Leave him alone and I'll be your whore. I'll be the

best cuntboy you've ever had. Just leave Jack alone.'

Fat Sam's self-satisfied smile returned, 'Scottie, Scottie, Scottie that's

just what I needed to hear. And let me just say this you fucking cunt;

after this weekend you're going to know once and for all that you screwed

with the wrong guy; you're going to realize just how bad it was to mess

with me and my operation; you're going to be sorry you were ever created.

BUT if you do what I tell you Jack here gets out of this alive and in one

piece. I'll have some fun with him. You're out of your head if you think

I'm not going to play with him some, BUT he'll be able to walk out of here

in about 48 hours, even if he's walking a little funny. I can't say the

same for you. You cost me money, a lot of money and I'm going to extract

every cent from your flesh. By the way, other than the aphrodisiacs and

priapic medications and the Viagra etc. I won't be giving you any drugs.

Nope, I want you to feel everything; I want you to remember everything. So

even six months from now when you're a fucked out bag of jiz, with no dick

and no balls, half way around the world in some freak sheik's harem of ugly

transsexual slave girls, you'll still remember every detail of your

downfall... Are you with me Scottie? Do you get my meaning?'

Scott got Sam's meaning; he was head to toe covered in terror sweat. This

miserable fuck had plans to castrate him and sell him as a woman; it was

his worst fear made real. The lump in Scott's throat was growing into the

size of a boulder, but he had to control himself. He did not want to give

this bastard the pleasure of his fear, of his tears, but for the first time

since he'd been taken Scott didn't see any way out. He was absolutely

convinced that Sam was word for word on the level. He knew that he would

do whatever it took to keep Jack safe. He decided to do whatever Sam

asked. He used his own hypnotic control to override his sexual

preferences, to work against his natural dominance, his strong male ego,

his basic nature as a top. He put himself back in the position of a

candidate. He had to use that programming turned inside out to give his

will over to Fat Sam. In the Organization 'transitioning,' relinquishing

your will was done for your own greater good; so that you could grow

without limits. Now he had to surrender his will.... period... end of

discussion.... no growth... only total submission. For a moment Scott

realized what a great Yield this whole scenario would have made. The

'Yield' was that one final test in every candidacy; it was different for

each person; it was considered Top Secret; devised and known by each

candidate's panel of senior controllers. The Yield had to successfully

demonstrate that the candidate was capable of total surrender for the

'greater good.' As such candidates didn't know anything about 'Yields.'

They didn't know to expect them. They had no idea what they were or that

each of them would face one especially designed for their specific

circumstances. In any event Scott saw his predicament as a perfect Yield

and he realized that if he honed his mind set properly he could get himself

to fully cooperate with Fat Sam if he 'pretended' that he was a candidate

and this was his moment of truth. That is what Scott did. That is how he

made his mind wrap itself around his total submission, something utterly

foreign to his nature. He kept thinking of C and all he'd taught him. He

was confident that this is exactly what C would do. So he did it.

Scott answered, 'Yes sir, Sam. I am yours to command; whatever you wish.

You only need to speak the words and I will obey sir... you are my lord and


Sam bubbled over, 'Christ this is gonna be sweet.' And he grabbed Jack's

leash and pulled him over to an overstuffed leather chair. Sam sat in the

chair and pulled Jack onto his lap. As he considered what to do next he

absent mindedly began to fingerfuck Jack's ass. Scott closed his eyes and

waited for his orders.

In a couple minutes Jack's cock was bouncing against his belly and prefuck

was dribbling down his shaft and dripping off his balls. He looked like a

naked ventriloquist's dummy sitting sideways on Sam's knees. As Scott

watched his drugged out lover getting his prostate massaged he felt a pang

of jealousy. Even sky-high, Jack was adorable, sitting on Sam's lap, half

a smile on his stoned face, staring off into space, getting ever more

turned on, starting to breathe deeply, a faint shimmer of sweat rising on

his muscled young body, his light brown hair hanging into his dreamy eyes;

he was so captivating, so genuinely pure and sweet.

Fat Sam finally spoke, 'Shithead, go and get Timmy. He's hanging like a

side of beef by his feet, down the hall in room six.' Sam's tall Aryan

slave-man-boy left the room, presumably to get 'Timmy.'

Sam continued, 'Scottie, we need to soften you up a bit... get you in the

bottom frame of mind... get you to see you're only purpose is to be a

cumdump, a pussyhole, a pissboy-jizbag, a big sloppy cunthole You're going

to love Timmy. I bought him from his drug-addict-whore of a mother for

five bucks and some methamphetamine. Timmy was sixteen and he'd already

started to peddle his ass to the rest of the trailer park for food. That

was ten years ago. Timmy was a sweet piece of ass for a few years; then I

ran out of ways to make him scream. Now he's a totally fucked out bottom

boy who is no longer of any value to me. He's so tenderized that he can't

even get a hard-on unless he's in horrible agony, and even then it takes a

lot of constant grisly pain for this jiz-hungry hound to even think about

getting himself off. Timmy's been so orgasm-deprived for so very long that

he no longer cares. I could cut his cock and balls off right now, with a

rusty knife and no anesthetic....and he'd love it... And I really honestly

mean he would love it AND he wouldn't miss either his little prick or his

oversized, swollen, punched out useless testes. Yup, all our Timmy cares

about is getting other guys off, taking their anger, taking their beatings,

and then sucking down their cum, and then getting hurt some more. Timmy's

idea of a good time is having a dozen bikers beat the shit out of him and

then rape the shit out of him with their monster cocks and then the icing

on Timmy's cake would be if they kicked the shit out of him once more after

they all finished raping his ass and his face. And when Timmy gets raped

he wants guys with huge joints to rape him.... the bigger the

better.... especially if they make him bleed. That's our Timmy.

And Scottie, what I want is for you to bottom for my timid tiny

Timmy... and Scottie I have no fucking idea how you're gonna get Timmy

off... or even hard for that matter. BUT I figure if you can bottom for

Timmy, well then you're ready for the next phase of my little plan. When I

put it all together on video-tape, you're gonna make me a fortune, and I

think we'll call it something like 'Cum on Scottie, Top to Bottom' or

'Revenge is sweet and so is Scottie's pussy,' something like that.'

A couple minutes later the Aryan brute came back in leading a boy on all

fours by his left ear. The poor kid's ears were both bright red and

stretched out. Using the same ear the goon pulled the kid to his feet.

Scott got a good look at the young man. His first and most striking

impression was that the kid looked like a trapped animal, with huge dark

eyes that darted around the room. The boy couldn't have been taller than

5'4' and no more than 110lbs, but he was in prime condition. Timmy didn't

have a single hair below his chin. He did have a long black ponytail that

offset the whiteness of his pure alabaster skin. He reminded Scott of some

of the smaller wrestlers he knew back in high school with muscles that

looked like knotted rope, bulging at the shoulders, with beautiful pecs.

Timmy's oversized nipples had been 'worked on' they were an inch long and

stood out like the erasers on pencils. His areolas were the size of silver

dollars, way too large for his small frame. Each of Timmy's nips had a

large gold hoop through it as well as a lot of obvious scar tissue. Scott

surmised that those nipple rings had been torn out on more than a couple

occasions. Timmy's body was covered in old and new bruises, scars, and

lacerations. His ears looked permanently damaged, and his back was covered

in horizontal and vertical whip marks and scars, old and new. Timmy's

uncut dick couldn't have been more than two inches long and was so

shriveled up into his foreskin that it looked as though it was trying to

retreat back into the boy's body. The kid's foreskin hung down four or

five inches past the lump that had to be his dickhead. The dangling

foreskin was dotted with holes and bruises; like it had often been chewed

on. His balls were a mess. They hung about six inches below his dick,

both were the size of large eggs and the left nut hung two inches lower

than the right in their stretched out sac. His whole scrotum was swollen

and purple. From a distance Timmy looked like a prepubescent boy, but he

had the bruised, scarred up face of a forty year old war veteran. And as

Timmy stood there Scott could see his toes all curled up clawing at the

floor, trying to dig a hole for the boy to crawl in.

Scott was at a total loss. How in hell was he going to do anything to this

kid, with this kid, let alone bottom for him? Timmy looked like one good

BOO! would send him into cardiac arrest.

Sam shot instructions to his man, 'Shithead bring our Timmy over to meet

Scottie. And Scottie how about you give our Tim a big kiss. Fuckface,

release Scott's neck and wrists. And Scott, one funny move and Jack gets

dead. We do understand each other don't we?'

As Fuckface released the bonds on Scott's neck and hands Scott replied,

'Sam, I understand everything and I am going to do whatever you say. You

needn't worry sir.'

As soon as Tim was within range of Scott's arms he reached out and pulled

the boy to him. Then Scott pressed his lips to Tim's and opened the boy's

mouth with his strong tongue. Scott gave the boy a long, slow, wet kiss.

All the while Timmy's eyes kept darting around the room. He was waiting

for the pain to begin. He was hoping for the pain to begin. He could lose

himself in the pain. All this relative quiet was filling him with abject

terror. What awful horror did Fat Sam have in store for him?

Scott asked, 'Sam is Timmy drugged? Are you going to give him some

Viagra... an aphrodisiac? Anything?'

Sam smiled, 'How would that be any fun? If I drug Timmy into an

erection.... well then this whole exercise would be a sham. Nope, Timmy

hasn't been given any kind of drugs at all, no sedatives, no stimulants, no

hallucinogens, no sex enhancing meds, nothing. Scottie, you've got to

learn how to bring out the fucked up, cock hungry, bottomboy in yourself.

I know you can do it. I know you're a big pussy at heart. I think all you

Organization assholes are actually cunts in Armani suits. You want to be a

big Nelly, I know it, you know it. You've just got to let that great big

cum hungry fag-slut in you out. So get busy!'

Sam had his man Shithead completely free Scott, but first he showed Scott

two things. The first was the tiny remote that would trigger Jack's collar

and blow his head off; the second was the small pistol Sam had in a

shoulder holster. Sam couldn't very well blow off Jack's head while he had

him on his lap, but he could put a bullet in him at the drop of a hat.

Scott once again swore to be cooperative.

With that Sam gave a bunch of orders to his men. They brought out video

equipment and microphones and hooked everything up. They even dragged a

big four inch thick wrestling mat into the center of the room. Then the

black goon pulled out a large brown box and began to take out items like,

whips, dildoes, duct tape, nipple clamps, and handcuffs and threw them into

the center of the matt.

Sam said, 'There you go boys. That's your little love matt. Scottie you

and Timmy get down there and get busy. And for your information the whips

and clamps and dildoes are all for you Scottie. Those are all for Timmy to

use on your big pussyass. You aren't going to restrain him or hurt him in

any way. Let's face it he's your man, he's your big butch top and you're

his big Nellie cumdump bottomboy; let's not forget that for one second.

And Scott I don't have all night. I want a show. So get busy you big


And for a few minutes Fat Sam turned his attention to Jack. He turned the

young man's face to his own and began to kiss him. Jack was still in

Never-Never Land; in so much of a haze he happily complied and opened wide

as Sam explored his mouth and continued to finger Jack's ass. Jack was

getting off on all the attention. and truth be told he was close to coming

all over Sam's lap.

Meanwhile Scott was on the floor with poor terrified Timmy, and he was

racking his brain for everything he's learned as a skillful Control. He

remembered back to his conversation with C almost three years ago when

they'd rescued those slaveboys from Fat Sam's ranch. C had told him to go

to their level, to take them as they were and lead them out. That together

with his knowledge of hypnosis and mind control gave him an idea. He laid

back and pulled Timmy over top of him; he placed his right hand in the

small of Timmy's back and used his left hand to pull Timmy's head over his

left shoulder. He had his lips up against Timmy's right ear. He

alternately tapped four pressure points on Timmy's lumbar spine,

alternating randomly with the tips of his fingers. He'd tap one point with

his index finger then shift to another point and tap it with his little

finger. He was using a modified form of the handshake induction. It used

misdirection to confuse the conscious mind. As he randomly tapped these

pressure points Timmy's brain received several confusing messages. While

his consciousness was trying to figure out what was going on Scott

whispered into Timmy's ear. What he said bled into the boy's unconscious

without the usual resistance. The suggestions would take quickly. Scott

kept saying to himself, 'Meet him at his level and lead him out.'

To Timmy Scott whispered, 'Pain is pleasure is pain is pleasure is pain is

pleasure is pain is pleasure.' Gradually Scott shifted the emphasis in his

voice till the mantra became, 'Pleasure is pain is pleasure is pain is


Scott prayed the suggestion would work. It was so damn simple. Was it

possible to rewire this kid so easily?

'Pleasure is pain is pleasure. Pleasure is pain is pleasure. Pleasure is

pain is pleasure.' Scott repeated it over and over while he alternately

tapped the pressure points. It was time for a test. He moved Timmy's head

over his own. Timmy's eyes were vacant. He was under. Yes! Yes! Yes!

Time to see if the suggestion was in place. Scott brought Timmy's lips

down to meet his own. To Scott's surprise Timmy initiated a kiss. Scott

went for it. He let the boy savagely kiss him. YES!!! Pleasure is pain

is Pleasure. Timmy could have his pick. Pleasure or pain. The suggestion

left them interchangeable. It might not last. Once the trance was lifted

Timmy would probably revert to his prior programming, but it was working

for the moment and Scott wasn't about to look this gift horse in the mouth.

Scott felt something hard pressing against his abs. IT WAS TIMMY'S DICK.

The boy was hard! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Scott started to talk to the boy, 'Fuck me Tim. Fuck my ass. I'll be your

whore Tim. Make me your pussyboy. Fuck me Tim.'

And Timmy went ballistic. It was as if all the years of horrible abuse and

pain had been washed away. The boy found his backbone. The boy found his

bone! And he was in heaven. He began raking his hard five inches all over

Scott's washboard abs.

Scott began to actually enjoy his role as Dr. Frankenstein. Sure he was

playing the role of Timmy's bottomboy, but in Scott's mind he was kind of

fucking himself. He was so damn proud of his creation. He decided to let

the boy enjoy his new found dominance.

Scott moaned into Timmy's ear, 'Let me suck your giant knob sir. Let me

suck you cock master Tim.'

Timmy leap-frogged over Scott's shoulders and slid his hard dick into

Scott's warm mouth. Since Tim's hard prick wasn't exactly huge Scott was

able to stuff the boy's oversized ball sac in his mouth next to Tim's

prick. Sure it was a mouthful, but what the hell.

At about this point in the festivities Fat Sam shifted his attention away

from Jack who'd had a giant cum all over Sam's shirt front and was in the

process of licking it clean. When Sam saw Timmy playing top to Scott's

bottom he did a double take. What the fuck was going on? This was not

possible. He had wanted both Scott and Timmy an impotent mess. He figured

he's let them screw around unsuccessfully while he berated Scott for being

such a failure as a human being. He had planned on having his goons work

Scott over with all the sex toys for a few hours and then move on to the

next part of his plan. BUT Timmy had an erection. How was that possible?

This kid couldn't get hard till he'd had thirty or forty lashes, even then

he couldn't cum till they beat him nearly to death. Now without any

violence Scott had the boy fucking his mouth.

Sam was pissed! Still, he was also fascinated at the amazing change in

Timmy. So he watched... besides Scott was playing bottomboy like a pro.

Meanwhile Scott grabbed Timmy's joint and began to chew on his sizeable

foreskin. It had seen a lot of abuse and had dozens of holes in it, but

Scott was careful and tried to give the boy a real thrill. He whisked his

tongue all around the head of Tim's prong while he moved his foreskin back

and forth. Timmy started yelling, 'Yes, yes, yes, yes.'

Then Scott took advantage of Timmy's position to lick under his balls and

trace his tongue around the boy's stretched out asshole. Scott slurped at

Tim's perineum and nibbled on his thighs. He played with Tim's ass with

his hands while he mouthed his crotch. He traced Tim's crack; he slapped

his ass cheeks; he fingered Tim's hole while he flicked his tongue all

around it. Then he went back to Timmy's cock and sucked it for dear life.

This went on for several minutes. Timmy's eyes rolled back into his head.

He closed his eyes and squealed; he laughed; he yelled; he rode Scott's


Scott pulled his mouth off the boy's cock for a moment and said, 'Fuck me

Tim.... sir.... Fuck me master.'

That did it. Timmy's dick began to fire. Scott quickly popped the prick

back into his mouth and sucked out the last three or four shots of smooth,

sweet, boycream. And then he just kept sucking. Pretty soon Timmy's dick

began to deflate. Scott did some fast thinking and brought his shoulders

up. In that movement Timmy went back as Scott came up. Scott kind of

rolled over Timmy till the boy was on his back with Scott looking down into

his face. He grabbed Timmy and rolled onto his back so that they were back

in their very first position. Scott immediately redid the beginning of the

induction. This time Timmy was there way ahead of him. His mind was eager

to accept these pleasant suggestions. Ten seconds later Timmy was hard as

stone and drooling boy Spooge.

This time Fat Sam saw what Scott did. Sam thought to himself, 'This clever

motherfucker thinks he can outsmart me. Christ this arrogant cunt is going

to need some real pain and humiliation... before I kill him.'

Scott began his monologue again, 'Come on Master Tim, fuck my ass. Fuck me

good Tim, sir.'

Timmy said, 'Now I'm gonna fuck your ass.' And he slid down between Scott's


Scott for his part grabbed his knees and gave the boy easy access to his

waiting hole. Timmy applied his gooey prick to Scott's asshole and it slid

all the way in. Timmy had never fucked anyone else in his life. He liked

it. He liked it a lot. Scott liked it too. Timmy's prick wasn't much

larger than Scott's own index finger. It wasn't like the boy was going to

leave him bloody. For Scott it kind of tickled. Timmy on the other hand

was in heaven. He began to gently rock back and forth. He tried to bend

down and kiss Scott but the closest he could get to Scott's face was the

middle of his chest. So Timmy licked the hairs between Scott's nipples and

he moaned and he moaned and he moaned.

Scott used his muscular control to give the kid a good ride. He

alternately squeezed Timmy's cock as hard as he could and then opened up so

there was almost no contact at all. Scott milked Timmy's prick. It drove

the boy nuts.

In his final act as Timmy's bottomboy Scott pushed Timmy onto his back and

sat on the boy's dick. Scott was careful not to apply his whole weight to

Tim's small pelvis. At the same time he used his concentration to hold

onto Timmy's little prick and give him a good fuck. In the last few

minutes Scott worked up quite a sweat bouncing up and down very, very

quickly to make this the best orgasm the boy had ever had. Scott did his

best to make Timmy feel like he was really plowing Scott's ass.

Scott said, 'Jesus Tim sir, you prick is so hard, sir. Your cock feels so

good up my ass master. That's it master fuck me, fuck my ass. Thank you

master for giving your pussyboy suck a good fucking. Thank you sir for

suck a good fuck. Thank you sir for your hard cock up my worthless

ass. Thank you sir. That's it, fuck your boy sir. Fuck your boy!'

In another moment Timmy hit the note over high C and held it as he fired

volley after volley of boyseed into Scott's ass. The cum leaked back out

spilling all over Timmy's crotch. When Timmy stopped shooting Scott laid

down next to him.

Timmy rolled on top of Scott. He stared down into Scott's eyes. For the

first time Scott saw how really beautiful this boy was. Timmy's eyes were

clear. He brought his head down and kissed Scott, a genuinely honest,

warm, thankful kiss. They closed their eyes and lost themselves for a

moment. Scott felt little taps on his cheeks.... it was Timmy's tears. The

boy was crying softly. Timmy whispered, 'Thank you Scottie, thank you,

thank you.'

Next thing Scott's eyes began to fill with tears.

Fat Sam jumped out of his chair tossing Jack onto the floor and yelled at

the top of his voice, 'Fuck this shit! I don't believe it. You cunts are

both pussies. You have ruined my evening.'

Sam snapped his fingers and screamed at his man shithead to get Timmy out

of his sight. The huge goon grabbed the boy by his ponytail and dragged

him screaming out of the room and down the hall. Timmy squealed all the

way, 'Scottie....Scottttttttttttieeeeeee!'

Scott yelled, 'Please Sam don't hurt him. I'll do whatever you want, but

don't hurt that boy.'

Sam rifled back, 'Who the fuck are you, Mother Teresa? Have you come to

save the world? I hate your fucking guts. I should kill you both right


And with that Fat Sam grabbed the small remote and put his thumb over the

button. At the same time he pulled out his gun. Then he hesitated for a


Scott tried to reason with him, 'Hey look that was your fault. You told me

to bottom for that boy and that's exactly what I did. Now you're

pissed.... and why? Because I did exactly what you told me to do? You

wanted a bottomboy and that's what I was. What are you so damn pissed


Sam narrowed his eyes, 'Don't play the fool. It doesn't suit you Scott.

You know damn well that I never expected that little scenario to work out.

I wanted to see you get all... well, never mind... forget it... just forget


And with that Sam put his gun away and helped Jack off the floor. Sam put

his arm around Jack's waist and pulled the young man up to his body. He

licked Jack's neck and toyed with his ass crack. Jack's cock sprang back

to life.

Sam said, 'Let's move ahead. We have a lot to do and very little time to

get it all done.'

Scott didn't like the sounds of that... not one bit.

Sam said, 'OK Shithead, you and the boys, I want you to top for

Scottie. And if any of you smile... or begin to thank each other... or do

anything nice.... I'll fucking kill you all!'

With that Sam went back to his chair, Jack on his lap, while his three

favorite goons began to manhandle Scott. They dragged him to the center of

the matt and while the big black creep began to undress, the Aryan guy

picked up the largest dildo and unceremoniously shoved it into Scott's ass.

Scott was still lubricated from Timmy's fuck so the dildo didn't do the

kind of damage Sam might have hoped for. It did surprise Scott and he did

yell a bit. The damn rubber cock was huge; almost as big around as Fat

Sam's real dick. The muscled blond-blond began to ram the cock in and out

of Scott's ass; at the same time he grabbed Scott by his hair and wrestled

him around till he was on his hands and knees. As soon as the black goon

was naked he replaced the rubber cock with his own big black uncut prick.

He began by shoving all eleven inches into Scott. He didn't stop till his

ball sac hit Scott's. Then he began to powerfuck him. The Aryan youth

took the opportunity to open his pants, pull out his own nine inch prick,

kneel at Scott's head, and push it into his mouth. Scott did his best to

accommodate both pricks; he did his best to give these guys a good time so

they would come and get off of him. Sam's third man made sure to capture

every degradation on video.

Meanwhile Fat Sam watched the festivities; toyed with Jack's asshole;

chewed on his neck; and periodically spoke. He said, 'See Jack, your new

man is a cunt at heart. Look how he's taking it up the ass and loving

every moment...Listen Jack, hear how he's moaning like a bride on her

wedding night. Look how he loves to be fucked. Jack how could you ever

let that pussycunt put his cock up your ass? Where was your self-respect?

Can't you see what a cock hungry whore he is?'

Scott's ears were burning. Then Sam told his guys to 'liven things up,'

and they began to slap Scott's ass and grab his balls and use their

fingernails to dig into his nipples. While the black stud fucked Scott's

ass he picked up the handcuffs and handed them to the blond whose dick

Scott was munching on. The blond reached down and grabbed Scott's right

hand and snapped on a cuff; then he pulled Scott's wrist up off the floor

and pulled it roughly behind his back; then he reached around and grabbed

Scott's left hand and pulled it off the floor; then with help from the

black stud they cuffed Scott's hands behind his back. Scott had to balance

himself on his knees as the black goon continued to fuck his ass and the

blond kept pounding his mouth. The blond was holding onto Scott's hair

with both hands and doing his best to choke Scott on his prick. The black

creep picked up the roll of duct tape and tore off a piece; meanwhile he

never missed a beat of his power-fucking Scott's sore asshole. The huge

black man took the piece of tape, and wrapped it around Scott's furry

thigh. He pressed the tape to Scott's leg and in the next second he tore

it off along with all the hair stuck to it. Scott tried to scream but

wound up gagging on the blonde's big rod instead. He coughed and choked

and lost his breath; he struggled to free his hands and tried to pull away

from the dick that was cutting off his air. The blond tightened his hold

on Scott's hair and shoved his dick further down Scott's throat. Scott was

going crazy, choking and gagging and retching. He started to close his

mouth, but the blond was faster, he let go of Scott's hair and grabbed his

jaw, forcing it to remain open, his hard prick still rammed down Scott's

throat. Scott's face turned red then purple then blue then bluer, and just

before he lost consciousness the blond pulled his cock back a few inches

and Scott was able to heave in a gulp of air, and then another before the

blond rammed his cock back into Scott's throat. Scott thought he was about

to die. He could not breathe; he began to shake. Finally, both of Sam's

men eased off for a minute and Scott coughed and coughed and choked and

choked; he struggled to draw one ragged breath after another; he fell

forward and his head hit the mat.

The blond boy bent down to Scott's face. He said, 'Breaks over!' And he

grabbed Scott's hair and the black stud grabbed his hips and in another

minute both men were hammering at Scott's ass and throat once again.

At the same time they began to talk to him, 'Yes baby take my cock up your

ass, you whore, you cunt, you pussy.... That's right fucker suck on my

knob. Suck it real good so I can shoot my load down your fucking

throat.... Hey Scott, can you feel my prick way up in your guts you fucking

cunt? I'm gonna shoot a shitload of cream way up your ass and then these

other guys are going to take my place.... We're gonna fuck you up like the

woman you are...That's right sweetie, suck my prong.... now lick my balls

while I slap your face with my dick for a while.... that's it lick my

sweaty balls you cumdump, fucking whoreboy...get way under there with your

tongue and lick my hole... get it all... Hey Scottie boy I'm gonna shoot my

load up your guts. Are you ready because here it comes.'

And with that the black stud began to fire his load into Scott's ass. That

sent the Aryan over the edge and he applied load after load of thick white

jism all over Scott's face. And without stopping for more than a few

seconds the two men switched positions. The big black goon rammed his

thick black prick into Scott's mouth. The huge black dick was covered in

boyjiz from Timmy along with Scott's own ass slime and the black guys white

sperm. The uncut black cock was a filthy mess, covered in a mix of body

fluids, goo everywhere all stuck under his foreskin and in his enlarged

pisshole and Scott was forced to down it all and suck it and lick it, and

clean it off, while the blond-blond began to ream his ass.

And the creeps continued to degrade him at every chance. They slapped his

face and punched his balls and tore at his nipples as they fucked his face

and ass. Then they rolled him onto his back and continued in that

position, with Scott's cuffed hands crushed under the weight of his

painfully arched back. When these two finished two more came and took

their place. One of the men picked up a buggy whip and as two others

ravaged Scott's throat and asshole, he whipped Scott's stomach; then he

moved down and used the tip of the whip to sting his cock and balls. The

creep got the whip moving fast so that it hit Scott's prick and balls

several times a second. In a minute Scott's dick was red and stripped with

whip marks and his balls were beginning to swell under the beating. When

the guys fucking Scott pulled him back up onto his knees, the guy fucking

Scott's mouth reached over Scott's back and took hold of the handcuffs. He

pulled up on Scott's arms; he pulled them as hard as he could up over

Scott's back toward his head. Scott's arms tore at his shoulder joints and

began to ache like hell. The guy with the buggy whip changed over to a

wider one inch whip which he applied across Scott's back. He whipped him

with such force that each welt began to sweat blood at the edges. Scott

was soon covered in sweat with blood and welts and bruises beginning to

show everywhere. They went on like this for two more hours.

All the while Scott was being savaged Fat Sam kept up his running

commentary to Jack who had two more 'accidents' all over Sam's lap. Each

time Sam made Jack crawl off his lap and lick up his 'mess.' Then he

continued to point out to Jack what a cunt Scott was. Toward the end of

the session Fat Sam called over Jaws and had him suck off Sam's very hard

fat dick. Jack did his best to help by licking Sam's balls. Every hour

Sam gave Jack another injection; a mixed cocktail of drugs to keep him

horny as hell and higher than a kite.

After a total of four hours Sam told his men to 'straighten up.' Scott

thought he was going to get a few minutes peace. Boy was he mistaken.



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