Family Plan

Uncle John was easier than my Dad, not that he was smarter or better looking or even more available, just that he was less suspicious. In his mind, and for years, he was getting what he wanted which was me all fleshed out to be what he wanted physically, mentally and, to his mind, willingly. His boy, eventually his man, on his side of...everything. He was even able to justify the distance between us as he’d set up, for me and where I was, what he wanted me to do, learn how to do and, finally prove that I could do it. Fine. It was all that I wanted to do so this dovetailing of wants, needs and wishes worked to all of our ends. Not that they were quite the same but why trouble him with that modest difference?

Another plus, John and Dad had what might be called a ‘fragile’ relationship’; I never knew what caused the strain but just knew it was there. The young do not bother about adult relationships unless it interferes with what they want and this vague animosity was, in fact, a help. For example, must have been three? Four years since the men had actually been in the same space, spoken and only then for some family event, a funeral of an aunt nobody much remembered but...as she had some sizable estate, everyone showed up wondering what might be their cut in the will….to be read after the services. Doing it that way kept all comers on their best….well….contained behavior until the clods of earth were tossed, the false regrets regarding her passing were said and all were back indoors having a stiff drink.

Her attorney, who reminded me of Uriah Heeps from some novel by Dickens, gathered all involved around the dining room table to give a truly unnecessary dramatic reading, well, he thought it was, of the will. I’ll give it to the old lady, she had a hold on the future and pretty much divided things up to cause the least internal furor although no one was going to be pleased. Dad and John were the big winners with a dark horse, me, coming in a close third. Mine was in trust until I was 21 but the sneaky thing she’d done was make both men my trustees and I had pretty much the final say. Oh, one other codicil…..to put it bluntly, if either of them fucked up in handling the funds, then….what she’d left to them was diminished by a certain percentage. Moreover, if they wrecked it or couldn’t get along big time, then I got it all. You could almost hear their guts grumble at the thought of several years of enforced agreement-possibly even having to speak with each other but with me as the final arbiter….when I turned 21 clearly I would vote for one of them. Fine, easy for them to think that, whether it was correct or not? Well, the future was cloudy and my being 21 was some way off. In short a problem to handle...then.

Almost before we could leave the room, both of them started a charm offense on me that was only funny if you knew what they were up to. And I did. John, ever the man whose life revolved around his body, wanted to make sure I had plenty of fresh air, strength and body building training, so found a gym near me, set up a work out schedule, paid for all of it and, the next day, took me by to meet the men there. Fine

Dad, having been aced out of getting me in shape-or sports and games in general- went for the father/son bonding thing which meant lots of ‘togetherness’, something John couldn’t provide as he lived nowhere nearby. A Freshman psychology student could have read that one for precisely what it was but, what the hell, Dad was a pretty good companion and, added to what I was doing at the gym, again it all dovetailed together; By the second year, if we shot a moose-was I tempted to shoot him?- no problem for me to field dress it then haul the bits of the carcass to our pickup (Which I found my trust had paid for….just as the same financial entity was paying for all the workouts, special training, making sure I was in great health. I was. I couldn’t really complain about the raiding of my trust, the money had been well spent and, looking at my body, no one could deny I had been the recipient of it as the results were clearly evident.)

Somewhat after my 18th birthday I began to feel that for all the good that was being done for me, the object was actually for a big payoff when I was 21-effectively I’d get the leftovers that they had not spent plus the inheritance from the unloved and, by now, forgotten aunt. The good thing about being a dutiful son and nephew is that your good manners can-and did-conceal my own agenda which, simply put, was to get all the money without the bother of sharing any of it.

I started with Uncle John because he was the furthest and, therefore, the least likely to suspect anything. Also, he had a secret that I could plow like the best of wheat fields yielding a bumper crop. As he was only infrequently around the city I was in, what he did there was more easily discussed. In specific, one of my coaches, somewhat annoyed at what he was paid to train me, told me that John had come on to him, offering quite a substantial sum if he’d drop by his hotel room and….spend the night plus, what else?, have sex. I apologized for my relative’s behavior but then got the rest of the story which was….the coach had finally given in when the amount hit a certain level. (This was my money, I felt certain, paying for his ass so knowing about it was only fair. And, I hoped, Uncle got what I paid for.) Wasn’t too proud of it but what they paid him at the gym didn’t cover everything he wanted. Only thing to do was blush, look at him, look down and mumble out that I had kinda wondered what it would be like to, you know, be with a man. Just to ice what was an easily baked cake, I said that when I saw my Dad naked or my trainer-him for example- the one I was speaking with, naked, I kinda got hard. And looked down to cover the fact that I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed.

Larry, the coach, was pleasantly surprised then danced around whether I was really interested or was this just…..I shyly put my hand over his shorts where his cock was rising, looked up, tried to look questioning, actually forced out a couple of tears then said in a quiet voice…. “I’ve always had a sorta crush on you….hope you’re not mad at me.” (There are some lies we tell that we have difficulty even believing ourselves and this was one; That he didn’t take me right there in the locker room only didn’t say, but screamed, my sexual future was right under my hand.) I guess that’s why he gave me a hug and said, not asked, he’d call my Dad to arrange a sleepover that evening. Something about a late something or other….Dad would have bought it if he’d told him we were going to attend a mob lynching.

Larry’s role as coach expanded that night when he found I was interested, even anxious, to find out what sex with a man was like and, since he’d trained my body, who was better to ascertain how the training paid off? While nothing of great interest happened just then, by morning I’d decided that, at 18, I’d like an apartment of my own. Larry knew of one in his complex-in fact I was just going to move in with him but that was too much information-but sold my father on the idea of a bit more freedom with, of course, his being there to bird dog me to see that I got into no sorts of trouble. Dad, probably a bit relieved of having to do the father/son thing saw no reason not to so….by the third day I’d moved out of his home and into Larry’s apartment. And bed.

The only modest drawback was that….Larry had something, I found out, of a clientele who were not interested in getting a work out but more in being worked over. Never one to miss what I could see as an educational opportunity, first I took some lessons in basic sex and then perfected them by watching Larry then, after he’d finished with whomever, recreating what I’d seen. Show with no bother to tell as actions do speak louder than, well, if not deeds, the finer sexual points of whatever you’d observed.

Did I let Larry entertain a certain group of gentleman who had a taste for young tail? Certainly. Learn by doing; Also I gathered some insight as to what men the age of my uncle and father wanted….which was largely flattery as to their prowess, their equipment and their looks, fading, faded or otherwise-some were Larry’s clients so it was to his enjoyment, and cash drawer, to make sure they were well worked out so when he, or I, turned them out, they looked like something another man would want.

I had just mastered playing ‘kid’ to businessmen-wearing a cut off T shirt from a local High School, shorts, sneakers and not much else. I was the ‘son’ they’d always wanted to fuck….and here he/I was. Brimming with boyish glee, full of how the big game went, great to see “Dad” ( well, Dad for a couple of hours..)….my arms around his neck, then moving South so at least one was around his cock while the other began to undress him to a litany of my telling him how I’d always wanted my own daddy cock and, well, if he wouldn’t mind? Could he maybe fuck me? (Larry had missed explaining role playing for fun and profit but, it evolved, I’d figured it out by observation.)

Does a wild bear shit in the woods?

Larry was proud of me, saw that I had a future and, with my very well trained and visible body, I could, if I wanted, move from sonny boy to whatever role the client wanted. And we had one client specifically in mind.

Uncle John.

Edward Albee couldn’t have written the scene to more perfection, the one where, through tears, hiccups and (suppressed) laughter I told Uncle John that…..I was a gay man….liked being fucked, in spite of everything Larry had done, I’d found my way into some beds and then…..could he forgive me?…..accepted money for my favors. Time, momentarily, stopped whilst John tried to at once decide how to play stern relative while ripping off my shorts and perhaps fucking me on the floor…..While my head hung down-theoretically in disgrace- my hands surreptitiously loosened my belt and undid a couple of buttons on my shirt.

Pompous ass, he drew himself up, one could almost see him consult with the spirits, look up, look down and drew me to him.

“Cooper, while I cannot say I’m pleased, you have only done what many men do but you’ve had the courage and honesty to tell me and….I’m proud of you.”

Must have been, pride apparently covered having one hand on my ass.

“Uncle John”…...I hesitated trying to give it real sincerity…. “there’s one other thing…...”.

“Son” (Oh for the love of God, give me a break; Son? With your hand creeping down my belt line?”)

“…..it’s real hard to tell you….. but…..” I gulped. “Uhm, I’ve always had a kind of a thing for you….can you forgive me?”

“Cooper, we’re family, there’s nothing you can’t tell me.” Well, there was but he’d find out….eventually.

“Would you fuck me?” Simple declarative question, only requires a yes or no answer and, to facilitate that, as he seemed to be catatonic with this revelation, I scooted out of all my clothes, offering him a very well toned man, almost his height and, to prove what I’d just said, a hardening cock pointed right at him.

I hoped he hadn’t damaged his knee caps when he fell to the floor.

Good thing he didn’t need his hands to start sucking me off, they were occupied undoing whatever he could reach; Object, Nudity. Even with his mouth filled with me he forgot it’s impossible to get pants pulled off until the shoes have been removed. Unfortunately he wasn’t wearing loafers so scrambling behind him, and unwilling to turn loose of the holy grail of our family cocks, he finally got all shed...although I did hear a kind of ripping sound that meant something wouldn’t look the same when put back on.

Time to up the ante.

“Uncle John…..will you...I mean….I’ve been broken in but, well, you know, it was always you…..I wanna be fucked by you…..” Okay, so it was a bit redundant...as they say playing Poker, I was ‘dressing up my bet.’

Good thing he didn’t rip my nuts off, that’s where his hands were just then, maybe providing encouragement to the nice piece of flesh he was desperately tonguing. He paused….

“Oh, yeah son….oh fucking yeah…...I want that smooth ass of yours, I want to stick my plunger in, I want to find your waterworks…..”

These references to plumbing made me feel like a plugged toilet. “I want you sooo bad.” And then I pole axed him. “Right after it gets dark….I’m afraid to do it in the light.” Somewhere Larry had his head so deeply in the linen closet….we’d plotted this, something about anticipation and what it did.

“Dark?”

“Oh, yeah, I wanna feel you creep up my thighs, sense that big organ, hard, stiff, erect, ready to stick me like the feral pig I want to be. Run me in, take me to the barbecue, roast my ass on your hot stake….get ready to eat me raw….Jesus I want you in me, all the way, wanna feel that brush you got scrubbing my man cunt, make your dick pulse, make me scream…..nothing but my Uncle John screwing his nephew who wants him sooooo bad. Jesus, I could cum on your face right now…..”

But, of course, I didn’t. The opposite happened. In my litany of what I wanted him to do, kinda like the best phone sex, I’d taken him over the jumps, through the hoops then forced his prostate to give it up, give it all up. He almost collapsed at my feet man milk pulsing from him as if I’d just dropped him making his milk bottle break. It’s good to know the power of sex, better to put it in practice, the ultimate when you’re going to fuck over someone who wants to do the same to you.

“Uncle John? Are you all right?”

“Oh yeah, kid, oh I am so alright just thinking about…..when it gets dark.”

“Can I do something?”

“Absofuckinglutely, Son, you can do anything you want, name it.”

“Can I shave your snatch?” It wasn’t what he expected. “Those egg smooth balls rolling in my hand, your smooth cock, that place under them where, you know, if I press, I can make your prostate do the Hokey Pokey…...all smooth, shaved….makes me want to lick you starting here….” I put my finger on the head of his cock. “All way to…….” I moved my finger down his stiffy, over his balls, across his perineum and stopped just short of his ass hole. “Like to have your man cunt eaten out? I always wanted to do that to you….” He was transfixed. Larry had, naturally, taught me how to eat men out but never, ever, had the mention of it had the effect it had on Uncle John. Never. Fortunately there was a chair for him to collapse on.

“You….you’d stick your tongue up….I mean, back there, your tongue in my hole… You want to do that?” I got down on my knees, took his cojones in my fingers, rolled them like the eight ball and cue ball, looked at him….. “I bet you taste real good…..I want to feel the lining of your big man’s cunt…..all freshly smoothed.” Well, that took us two baby steps back to reality.

“You know how to shave?” Stupid ass, I was 18, I intentionally had a bit of five o’clock shadow, of course I knew how to shave. What he meant but couldn’t get spit out was, “You know how to shave down there?”

“I got Dad’s straight razor…..” This wasn’t, to him, happy news. Stupid shit probably hadn’t shaved with anything that didn’t have a motor in two decades so the concept of a cut throat blade applied to his balls…..wasn’t a vision he liked. Of course as he tried to get his mind around that, I’d deep throated him.

Only one thing to say. “Uhmmmmmmm. Lot better when I don’t have to pick fur out of my teeth.” I guess he agreed, his head was flopped back, his abdomen beginning to spasm. Jesus he was easy; I thought about giving him a moment but, with me or without me he was about to launch-unedged-so I took my lips, put them right over his piss slit and sucked in; Had less in him than I’d thought-for the second time-but….enough to, as I pulled on his nipples moving up to his face, spit back his crème into his mouth.

“See how good you taste?” It was a redundant question as he wasn’t into quality control just then.

Elsewhere I could just hear Larry, choking with laughter, make his way someplace so, as I played a scene called, “Nasty Nephew Fucks Uncle John”, he wouldn’t give himself away. Besides, he had the next episode to set up, the one after I made John take three times as long eating dinner as any two people at Denny’s might take. However, almost on cue, when I swallowed the last morsel of a Grand Slam Dinner, it got dark out. My only concern, and as I’d been feeling him up during my leisurely consuming a salad leaf by leaf, was that his penis, now more of a steel I beam would tip over the table….if he could even get up and move out. Also the earlier damage to his trousers would make it difficult to scoot through the room without revealing that not only was June busting out all over, but that a full moon was rising in the East.

Uncle John needed to be taught some sexual manners; Christ, we barely had the doors closed on his car before he hauled me over, ran one hand down my pants in front while the other discovered if, after a hefty meal, if I still was bubble butted.

I was.

By now he was so diverted by his imagined pleasure of not too far away, he wouldn’t have listened to anything that did not serve his, uh, end result, Which is why I could say that I’d heard there was a motel just a mile or so away that had gay porn in the room….if you were willing to pay for it; I believe I added that I’d I had heard it accepted all major credit cards. He seemed uninterested in this piece of information, his mind being fixated on another piece to whom credit cards weren’t a consideration.

My head snapped back when he accelerated once I gave him the address and the name I ‘thought’ might be the place, The spray of gravel when we found the door to the motel where you checked in could have pitted glass. In under two minutes, his hand was shaking too hard to sign much, and after they wrote out his receipt (He was too smart to use a credit card…..just in case) we were off to number 49, on the end around back. Perfect.

Oops….I forgot the razor and that I wanted to be shaved by him...and to return the favor….I said I thought it would be a turn on, me naked, watching him cover me with foam, work it in, slowly draw the blade over my big teenage balls, getting all nice and slick, my cock smooth, just right to slide in or down or on or….wherever he wanted it. And then I’d return the favor, using my drooling spit as the medium, let him watch as I tossed aside his hair, verified the smoothness with my tongue, couldn’t wait to finish, take his man sized testicles, roll them, lick them…..

His face was a study of a man torn between rampant desire and temptation to see if he could somehow up the sexual ante…..the latter won. Out the door and on a high lope in the car to find someplace that sold shaving supplies at that hour-I’d suggested he ask at the front desk but, for whatever reason, that idea lacked traction.

The only thing in the sleazy room I would touch without sterile gloves was the telephone receiver so I made a call. The laughter at the other end, although voices I didn’t recognize, assured me that all was well, my alleged (questionable) virginity was safe….for a while.

One final bit of stagecraft: I took all the towels from the bathroom, on the theory they were probably clean, laid them out on the bed, stripped, lay down carefully facing the door with my legs up and wide open. ‘Come Hither’ couldn’t have been more obvious if I’d written it on my stomach in “Ident Orange”.

It took less time than I might have thought or he got lucky at one of those places that sells gas and over priced groceries, plus other supplies, 24/7.

“Got ‘em!!!!” He held up a bag as if it were a sort of trophy. I smiled my enthusiasm and cranked my knees just a bit wider.

“Oh, Jesus, I gotta get a taste of boy dick now, fuck shaved, we can get around to that.” With which he got on his knees, planted his head in a good position for cock sucking, put a hand under my nuts and started what he fondly believed was to be the warm up...

Given the position of my head raised on a pillow I could see shadows cross the window.

A booted foot kicked in the door, hands grabbed him just as he was about to finger my ass but…. another man pulled me to, theoretical, safety. Hard not to notice the large, shiny star on the big man’s chest.

“Well, well, well, looky here I do believe we got ourselves one of them pEEdo files, caught him in the act.”

His hand over John’s mouth did not permit his participation in the conversation.

Looking at me, “ Son, you okay?” In what I tried to look like my best shocked expression, I wagged my head. “Okay, Frosty, take him out, Son you’re safe now but by jeesus this piece of shit….”

As if on cue Larry, dressed in a smart business suit, pulled up in an expensive car, hopped out, hustled over, waving some papers said..”Officer, what’s going on here? I’m his guardian…..” He came to me, took me from the younger cop-who deserved some personal attention later if not then. “I was afraid of this so I brought my papers…..” The sheriff paid as much attention to them as if they were an advertisement for a church social.

“Sir do you know this man?” John was now efficiently cuffed and gagged-probably both frightened and confused but...who gave a shit? I didn’t? Larry didn’t and, as we were to shortly find out, neither did the gentleman playing the sheriff.

“So your ward was taken across a county line for immoral purposes by this,….person.”

“Seems so, I thought he was just going to take him for a ride in his new car but...that was hours ago. This brave boy got loose and called me for help which is when I called you.”

Well, sort of-it sounded good, just like that might have happened just like that...

Larry, whoever was acting as the Sheriff plus the man who was the ‘deputy’ had never been more than two hundred yards from me ever since we left the restaurant.

If Uncle John didn’t see this for the set up it was, he was remarkably dumb…..but then….he was remarkably dumb. I had only one last thing to say so in a (false) quavering voice I asked what might happen to him?

The ‘Sheriff’ got real serious, fixed an eye on John that the average Bengal Tiger would have envied….. “Son, it’s kinda your call but the usual around here is….there’s a farmer quite a piece from here who, lets say, collects men, says they’re just as good as animals, sells them now an’ again, take him out there. Only thing left to do is to find out if he wants him gelded before we bring him out or….” the Sheriff laughed a nasty sort of laugh, “let him do it the way he likes...saw it once,” He shuddered” “ ….that about do it for you?”

Do you need to ask?

“Maybe just get him outta here, this farmer person…..”

“Good call. I’ll let him know he’s got a new piece of life stock…” He paused, winked at me, “Son, how’d you like a souvenir so you know this pervert ‘ll never do something like that again?”

I seemed to be confused.

“Want his nuts or his cock? Personally, after what he was aiming to do to you, I’d get ‘em both.”

Uncle John got a reprieve, sort of.

“Just get rid of him…..” Stark naked I turned into Larry’s arms...everyone-except Uncle John-was having trouble not laughing.

“Get that pick up with the cage in back, throw him in there.”

Exit Uncle John.

A couple of hours later we were sitting around Mark and Joey’s place, the guys who had formerly playing the roles of the Sheriff and the Deputy. To show my gratitude I was on the floor doing my best suck job on Mark who leaned back, eyes closed clearly enjoying this.

“Hey, Larry, I’ll trade you for a while, you take Joey and I’ll keep this fine lad, some young ass would feel real good and….you’d be getting a man who loves his kink...kinda like I remember you do.”

Any further conversation stopped while Mark enjoyed a really good orgasm and filled me up as much as any man ever had.

“After that, cuz it would take me a while, I gotta fuck you.”

I turnned over. “How about starting with Doggie style?”

Mark seemed agreeable so I rolled over, got up on my hands and knees and waited for him to mount up.

An audience, Larry and Joey, always added to my abilities and, I guess, to Mark’s as well.

You can tell a lot about a man by the way he starts to fuck….if he jumps you, no. If he can’t seem to decide which he’ll like best, no. But Mark took one hand, worked it around just on the edge, leaned over me, told me he wanted me, just relax and let him do what he knew how to do. I knew truth when I heard it so slipped down until my shoulders were on the floor so he had the best angle I could give him.

He moved into me with direction and two purposes, one to enjoy himself and the other to make me want him again-already a given. His body over mine, warm, furry, comforting, made me want him to stay in me until….well….just until. He knew how to do it, good, deep, strokes, ones that made his staff thicken while my ass widened wanting him to come further, almost like I was hiding my prostate, wanted him to take a long time to find it…...and he did.

As we went on he whispered that this wasn’t going to be the last….he knew it and I felt it, there was….something. Oh holy shit was there. We both found a bed, relaxed flat, keeping that good, deep penetrating rhythm that two people who are tuned in can get and we were….again his voice in my ear, in my head, in my deepest sexual place…. “I’m going to keep you….for a while….I’ve wanted some young tail but you’re more than that….”

To prove his point that’s when he gave it a might push, practically shoving my mans G spot into my bladder, making me splatter male juice on the bed while his tide of warm sperm sprayed my insides, painted it to say, “You’re mine…..”

We lay there, him on top, fiddling with my nipples, saying things, private things, telling me how and where and when…..but mostly that I was now his...at least for a time.

And I was.

One thing I wanted was to kiss him so slowly rolled over. But what he did showed me something about him and that he meant what he said about wanting me; I’d shot on the sheet but rather than go for the kiss, he knelt then started licking up what I’d deposited. His eyes closed, this was the finest taste to him….what he didn’t slurp up, he wiped into the hair on his chest then came to me for the kiss. Good taste, a man you like mixed up with your own juice then nicely delivered by a stud who wanted you to enjoy both you and him….

I did.

There was what I guess I’d have to call the ultimate in male dining specials. Never knew how coaches got plays into teams with just their hands but found out. While he worked over my mouth with his, gave my nipples a good work out, he signaled Joey and Larry to catch a part and a piece of the action; Joey got a good latch on my cock while Larry went where he had so often been screwing my ass, regardless of who’d just been there. Probably seen in half light and a few steps back it looked like a pile of Moray Eels trying to get either top or bottom space devouring a very tasty fish, depended on how you saw it.

In me something, something I’d never known but now did, the finish line between youth and being a man: Lust. I wanted Mark because he was Mark, not just another cock or something to kill time. I wanted Mark’s body, his mind, his parts that made him a man, I wanted Mark to want me.

He did.

In short, gasping words he told Larry and Joey to go some place, sorry, but I was now going to be taken and he needed no help, just the two of us. No point in looking, I could hear them scuffle around, maybe find clothes, a door closed and then his face in mine. Nothing to say, no need to….all I wanted was to slide down, take his balls in my mouth and start to chew while he did the same for me….what would come after that? Didn’t know, didn’t care. I suppose you could say it was a hyper-aggressive 69 but that ends, the blowers pull back, it would be over but we were headed on into somewhere made smooth by sweat, spit, whatever came out of us but no matter what, we were there, together making our minds force our bodies into someplace that is just naked sex and would keep us there until?

Since we’d both shot our juice recently, this suck fest was about nothing but the pleasure of feeling balls and a cock in your mouth. Personally, I’m a balls man, nothing like a good pair in a sack to get my mouth opened wide, just let ‘em slide in then close, start working them over like testicle tartare...just not served on a plate but better, hanging from a man with another amuse bouche right above them. Made you sorry your nose didn’t come with a tongue, could lick along the line leading to the head while his sperm factories worked overtime encouraged by a moist, warm environment. Better if you were getting the same...and I was.

Mark was all man, just then my man, who showed every interest in pursuing that situation.

“Got something I’d like….”

I’d already been in him so whatever else was about, I was for. Hated to turn loose of my treat to agree but that was the only way.

His smile changed. “I like my young men kept still while I work ‘em over...had this built special.”

He picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, walked to a door, opened it which revealed a room painted black. There was one spotlight in the ceiling which illuminated a metal bondage device, the sort where neck, ankles, wrists, cocks, were positioned so that all parts of the body were secured but available to whomever wanted to do whatever amused them, aroused them, played to their kink...the whole range of sex with a non-participating partner.

Being put in and clamped down was….erotic. He had me on all fours on the black floor, first taking my hair then positioning my head in the lower half of a metal circle. As the upper half was closed I got hard waiting, wondering, hoping I could please him. Each wrist went in cuffs attached to the collar then a wide, heavy leather strap around my abdomen which hung from a bar that came up and over my ass. Ankles similarly secured only one dangling part left. It was already hard but he wanted to make sure it stayed that way. Only once had Larry used a sound on me but Mark held a bright, shiny steel rod in my face then worked around to slide it up my dick. Once there, a metal circle came up from the cross member on the floor to cage my nuts while an extension rounded my stalk to encompass my corona.

“It’ll be better when we get you pierced so I can hang that fat cock from a nail….” I was almost at that moment where nothing mattered but my building orgasm...nothing. The plug down my piss chute made that impossible only making me shudder, writhe as best I could, cry out….demanding he let me come.

He laughed.

The steel gag went around my head tightened in back while in front...a rubber coated cock was stuck in my mouth stopping all my attempts to make noise. I had never felt this turned on, this demanding that I be fucked, that sex, naked pure sex be performed on me….however he wished….JUST DO SOMETHING TO LET ME RELEASE MY CUM!!!!!

“Knew you’d like bondage, strong body like yours, made to fight it, want it, make you know you’re a man but one who can’t perform like a man. Two words that go together, Bondage and Frustration. Here’s how we do the second part….cuz I want you so hot you shoot your milk out every hole you got.” He put a clock in front of me, hit a button on the top which started the timer. Holy Shit…,Sixty Fucking Minutes!!

“Get comfortable…...”

The sound of a door closed behind me.

Agony? No. Obsession with my own body, feeling each part, sensing the cold metal get warm as it touched me, wanting both in and out, wondering what being like this, put on display forever…..? But the overriding sensation was the desperate desire for Sex!Sex!Sex!...fuck me, beat me off, suck me, chew on my tits, stick whatever you’ve got up my ass, up anywhere on me, anything to make me release the terrible, wonderful, insane desire for pure sex.

But nothing happened. I was like an animal, caught, caged, forgotten, hung out for some future attention….if I was remembered. Internally I was screaming, tears were flowing but….nothing happened. Silence. Darkness. Nothing. Dammit, I wanted the fucking clock to tick, to make noise, do anything not just display numbers that lost meaning. Nothing.

The door opened. Bare feet walked toward me, that slight slop that a foot makes as it slowly goes heel and toe, heel and toe and then stops. Behind me. Silently but...just the vaguest stir of air caused by movement through it, someone stood there watching me.

The first sound.

No one who has ever doubled a leather belt, pushed it close then snapped it out can forget the popping crack it makes. Leather makes a sound like no other material and that is what I heard. A belt, doubled, being prepared….for me.

“Boys get spanked, men get whipped. You’re a man, I’m looking at a fine piece of tail, bet it wants something to happen…..you’ll get whipped until you bleed….the first time.”

His swipe caught me by surprise for, even warned, I could not believe it, wanted it, wanted it from him but suspended all sense of feeling until the slice of the leather on my ass. I tried to scream but could not. He paused. Now I could hear the whish of the strap as it moved through the air, knew it was coming, anticipated it, wanted it to crush my flesh, make it suddenly tense, waiting, wanting, expecting the hot second of contact.

It did not take too many, he was an expert, was preparing me not for the whipping but for the bonus of the whipping, the agonizing desire for….him...to whip me however he chose, it didn’t matter.

I felt his tongue lick the tendrils of blood on my butt. He snarled like an animal taking his first pulling bite of a fresh kill still jerking in death spasms ….his hands went around me, grabbed my nipples, jerked them, milked them as blood seemingly pressed out of my, no, his flesh. I had been ruined for him taste and pleasure but still there was sex but now I knew it was not mine to want but his to take or give, my only contribution was to be there, prepared like a sexual thing dying for what he knows will come.

But it did not.

His body folded down beside me, a hand rubbing my back, the other one picked up the infernal clock and smashed it on the floor. Slowly he withdrew the steel spike from my blood and semen engorged penis….holding his hand at my piss hole when the rod fell out then to the floor.

“Feed me, I want it all, these nuts are….full to overflowing so...feed me.”

I did. The gush of warm juice came out and into first one hand, until it was filled and then the other. The smack of his lips told me I’d done what I’d been ordered to do, he was fed, enjoying it, gently rubbed my still hard dick trying for the last bite of what I’d made. Squeezed my nuts, massaged them and, Jesus, I could almost feel more silvery white fluid fill them...ready itself for the fast journey out of me into his gullet.

“You’re a good stallion, just what I wanted….still young, ready to become what any man, if they’re worthy, will want and you will know whether or not to take them...you will live in a world of hot male cunts wanting to nibble at you, have you in them…..”

I was, even with the gag, panting, sweating, letting anything my body made come out, be evident, still wanted him...in me, hard, fast, he had his own milk and now free of my desire, I wanted it. I’d given him my body now it was time for him to pay up, satisfy me.

He knew but more than understood my need to be mounted, realized there had to be a way to show that I was getting what I wanted. He removed the gag then quickly moved to my back and stuck me like a feral pig going all the way in. It wasn’t a scream from me but the deep almost vulgar sigh of satisfaction telling him, yes, you’ve done it, I’m filled. He leaned down to kiss the back of my neck.

Knowing that I had accepted the metal surroundings, he was slow in releasing me, making each snap of a lock like that of another crack of the whip, wanted but...not. In the end, I simply collapsed on the floor expecting him to use me however, hoping he would be wanting to be touched but knowing I had to let him first touch me as the tamed animal waiting to be petted for the first time.

He rolled me on my back, brought his body over me, lowered himself to kiss me pausing only to lick the tears. Carefully I reached up to caress him, hold him, draw him to me, feel his hard cock against mine wanting to take it in my mouth. To show him my submission, I rolled on my back, spread eagle, opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue and waited. In the gloom I could see the slight smile as he leaned in directing his hard member toward my soft lips…. “I knew you’d want this.. and then you need to take me up my ass….I want it just as you did.”

I stuck him fully until I could feel the soft mush of his prostate and hear his deeply felt groan of pleasure.

Later that night, after we’d bathed, laid quietly by one another he told me I was now to live with him….at least for a while.

He and Larry had been working on a plan to get what I wanted, all the estate.

Hearing that I was stunned….never occurred to me that they even cared. Seems Larry was genuinely fond of me, had Mark at the gym when we worked out, seen me fucking other men, wanted me, arranged the trade for Joey-who really was into kink-and now all we had to do was let some time pass.

_________________________________

Dad was not especially aware that Uncle John hadn’t been seen for a while so only took an interest when he began to get calls wondering as to his whereabouts. (The one that rang his chimes was from the trust department at the bank which needed a signature regarding my trust.) Naturally he couldn’t answer, asked me, who, cooperatively, looked at him then told him I had no idea, I hadn’t seen him either. (A statement of fact and one of the few I’d made about the man that weren’t lies.)

Probably then was when he had the realization that if John was indeed MIA, he might well be DOA which moved him closer to the entire estate. Only one hurdle left, his dutiful son whom, he assumed, would agree to whatever he suggested.

WhatIsuggested was we get back to more father/son time and, to that end, ask/told him to join the gym as it was my one great pleasure. What, after all, could be better looking than a father and son buffed up and clearly material for a Speedos ad? As with the unmissed John, Dad had the same vanity so what I wanted him to do was fine with him; His first few weeks he was almost too enthusiastic which left him stiff, sore but motivated. Possibly other guys helped encourage him with their compliments not only about his progress but how lucky he was to have a son equally well into body building. It will come as no surprise that two of the guys watching and commenting on his progress were….Mark and Joey-to whom I was introduced by Dad: Ever suppressed laughter face to face? It’s not an easily done thing particularly since less than six hours earlier, Mark and I had exchanged blow jobs.

A year went by. Clearly wherever Uncle John was-or wasn’t-Dad felt enough time had passed to begin proceedings to have him declared legally gone forever. I was the last person to see him and, as I testified at the coroner’s inquest, he was in his pick up. said he was headed home…..Told them we’d had dinner at Denny’s-for whatever reason I still had a part of the cashier’s tape from the meal and after that? Well? No idea.

We were all at the gym when Dad arrived with the papers certifying that John was now the late John…..he wondered if the bank where the trusts were should know this as, clearly, he alone controlled them-only an idiot would not have known they already knew…. At least until I was 21 but he assumed he’d aced that as I would be no problem, always the dutiful (well built) son….

Which led us to act two of the plan to get what I wanted-sharing it with friends of course-and seeing, also, that Dad got what was coming to him.

Mark should have been an actor or in some occupation that allowed him to portray that which he wasn’t; In this case he became, over time, Dad’s best buddy. Did everything in buddy-dom….(except what he was doing with his son-which he probably enjoyed more)…..together. At times their burgeoning bromance was almost cloying but they were close, Dad would follow his leads and suggestions….take it to the bank. Which is just what I intended to do...although relieve the bank of it was more a more accurate statement.

Laughing, Mark strolled, naked, into the locker room holding a flyer; Apparently he’d read it so the next thing was to share it with his bud, his workout partner, the man he spent a lot of time with. Oh, and the man whose son he was routinely screwing….plus time out locked down in a black room….Dad looked at it, looked puzzled, looked down, looked at Mark’s cheerfully smiling face, the sort of look that was almost conspiratorial, just for them.

What my favorite fucker had was a flyer that portrayed itself as a charity event for whatever. Mark’s interest was that the method of fundraising was the old tried and true getting well build guys to be ‘auctioned’ off to join the winning bidder for dinner or cut their lawn, whatever; Some sort of marginal physical service. Mark said he’d already agreed to it-one did that by telling Larry you were in-so it followed that Dad, Joey and I would also want to participate. For all his vanity, displaying his body that publicly was troubling to him….while he could stroll naked all around the gym, the assumption was that this would include the presence of ladies and he just felt….

Remember I remarked on Mark’s acting skills? He found the perfect way to maneuver Dad in without resorting to shame or similar. Nope. What he did was say, “Well, sure, I guess I understand, your body...good as it is...but if you’re not comfortable….”

And just then his son figuratively stuck his hand in the air to ask if there was an age requirement, cuz’ if there wasn’t, hell, put me in a thong then shine the spot light on my crotch.

How could a good Dad refuse to do a good deed when his son was all for it?

The next several weeks all of us worked overtime to achieve something that would look salable at an auction of good looking male flesh….Kind of a competition sprung up over who could raise the most money which indirectly suggested who hit the cat walk with the best a man could be? Or, as was privately discussed at the gym between the four of us, who hauled the biggest package down the runway?

We all agreed, no cheating, no socks, no cups, just flesh and spandex.

The only stumbling block, or almost, was when Larry showed up with the “Official Bathing Suits” we were to were. As he explained, this kept the competition fair and even, everybody wore the same thing cut the same way.

And that way was minuscule.

Each was the same color, navy blue with a horizontal red stripe right across the crotch, right where it emphasized the best a man can be. Anyone who has ever worn or seen a man in a Speedo will have an idea as to the breadth and width of what we were to slip into...that is if a Speedo had been down sized. Substantially.

Nothing to do but try them on, get a look at our slightly covered nether regions in a mirror then try to figure out how to arrange two balls plus one cock so that they were at least covered if only as obvious as trying to conceal a baseball bat and pair of soft balls in a paper napkin from a drive in. Four of us thought nothing about it, Dad almost had apoplexy….I will concede if he had a good point, or points, they were swinging in his crotch-easily the best endowed of all of us but, at this juncture, that was more of a problem; The only way he could get his cock in was to lay it sideways...which extended some distance and, what else?, put his equipment in bas relief. The rest of us certainly ‘showed’ but it was Dad who served the meat barely wrapped.

He looked at himself-we all did-pondering how to get out of what he was in.

Mark, again. “Wow, Jesus fucking Christ, you are the easy winner….One ball alone has got to be worth….” He made that gesture where you throw your hands in the air and shrug. Said it all. To see if I could help, I slipped next to him, looked down then announced that I was glad I might still have some growing to do, I wanted to look like good old (Hung) Dad.

Slowly he reached down, fondled the suit, almost causing his junk to fall out, then began to subtly grin then full out smile. “Yep, gents, I got it right front, it really is what’s up front that counts!!” Inwardly I sighed, he’d bought into the action….all that was left was showing up, getting oiled up before getting looked up. Simple.

Larry, as contest liaison, said no point in going until just before we were to ‘go on’. There was a dinner, speeches about the charity, all shit that sitting around basically nude we didn’t need to do. Joey had an SUV so we could go in that, ready to display our wares but carrying some clothes for ‘afterward’ assuming we weren’t expected to go from the platform to the arms of the winning bidder. Sounded like a sensible plan.

The day of the contest we all were at the gym getting ‘pumped up’, and, oops, another surprise, a body shave. Again Dad had another gulp as he wasn’t the sort to ‘manscape’ plus, apart from a Urologist-if he’d ever seen one-the only man who’d ever fondled his nuts was his GP.

We paired off; The buddy system if you will which meant Mark was Dad’s barber, Joey was mine with Larry, who routinely kept himself peeled, as a sort of adviser on how to do this. All but one of us enjoyed it, almost too much as restraining erections as foam was applied with an old fashioned brush was...difficult. Of course, four of us didn’t give a damn and, to Dad’s horror, jacked off right there. The advise Larry gave him was to follow suit, emptied now prevented a hard on at an ‘unfortunate moment’. Just to be the admiring son, I wondered if getting a stiffy would bring more money? (All of us, except Dad, knew that keeping it up and ready was a prerequisite for some activities, some that involved money the way we played it….)

Good thing he quit blushing before we were off to the charity event. Also, Mark did a helluva a job, getting him shaved and, to accent him further, removed some fur around his nipples highlighting them. All in a good cause.

Larry was on the phone with wherever this was to be so knew about when to hop in the van and scoot over there just in time for our appearance. Also, he had our order of appearance, I was first, Mark, Joey, Dad then Larry. It had been decided that since we were not professional body builders, oiling would not be necessary.

It was dark back of wherever this was. Mark and I were somehow separated from the other three, lost in curtains...Mark took my arm and pulled me through a slit then down into the audience. Apparently we weren’t auction material. However, if you were back stage, you heard the recorded voice of an auctioneer, sounds of bidding, the general noise one would expect unless you were actually out front.

In fact there were only four men seated in a row of chairs, evidently the ‘bidders’.

Same voice announced me then Mark, offers of money were heard, applause but then there was a change in the score card. After a pause of maybe twenty minutes, Dad appeared stark naked, gagged, his neck and hands in a wooden stock while he could only walk, or be pushed, as he was manacled at his ankles with an old fashioned iron ball, must have weighed fifty pounds, attached.

I could see Larry and Joey behind him each holding a gun to ‘encourage’ him. The lights were all on him which prevented his seeing anything, just hearing.

“Okay, gents, next up, one Caucasian male, 46 years old, stands just at six feet even, 200 well muscled pounds and I’d draw attention to his cock and balls. For those of you looking for a stud, here’s what you’re looking for. Strong, too, good worker once he’s trained, we don’t often get prime beef like this too often so if you’re interested, now’s the time to speak up and let your money talk. Only one like this but there was another one, sold about two, three years ago, maybe some of you seen him, out by Jake’s. Says he’s a real addition, good sperm count, didn’t take long to break him-said the whip was real useful-so we might think this one’d be about the same. Jake says he meant to geld the other one but when they did the sperm count, held back while he was still running that high on the wriggler count. Minimum bid is a hundred grand but there’s a reserve so be aware of that.”

There was a moment of silence. It was oddly erotic to see Dad bound up like meat ready to be butchered, reached down to play with myself but Mark anticipated my reaction and was already sliding his lips over my ripening cock….I guess that was why Mark had finally confessed, he wanted to be mine and I arranged that. He admired my dominance, my abilities, the way I fucked him….so becoming mine just made sense. Beside, we had a helluva lot of fun together that didn’t involve a bed.

“Two Hundred grand….”

“Two fifty”

“Two Seventy five”

“Three and a quarter”

The auctioneer spoke up. “Gents, the reserve has been met. If you want to feel him, there he is. Only stipulation, after a feel you’ll have to make a bid. Usual Rule.”

I felt myself standing up, pulling off my suit, walking toward the platform, my hand outstretched…..As I passed the man with the gavel I simply said, “I’m the seller”. He waived me on.

When I came into the light Dad noticed me, probably thought I was there to get him out of this mess. He hadn’t heard me identify myself as the person offering him up so there was one more shock to him. Why I wanted to do it? Don’t know. Reached out, hefted his meat, looked up at him, smiled, then turned away.

“Anyone wants him cut before they take delivery, I’ll give ‘em a discount but I keep what you slice off, one or sausage or both eggs....” Then walked back to sit by Mark.

As the bidding continued Mark and I stroked each other down. Actually, the final sale figure, Seven hundred Thousand, was reached before we shot...didn’t matter. The buyer elected to keep him intact, stood up, took a long handled tong from a barrel with fire in it, approached his property, hit his ass with the brand which permanently ended the sale and the transfer of property.

Dad, or rather the meat, was hustled off to wherever, some of the men shook my hand, told Larry to keep his eye out for anything interesting and, I heard, one say that if that young one should be available, call him, his kid was no good and I looked like a good buy to replace what wasn’t going to be around much longer. I took it as a compliment.

I got all the money.

Several moths later we were standing in front of the door to the black room. Walked in, shoved Mark down, latched down his head, wrists, ankles, ran a skewer up his cock, gagged him, stuck a nicely heated Dildo in his ass, anchored his balls to the floor, slapped a clock in front of him, hit the start and walked out making sure the belt was hanging by the door. Looking back, the iron bondage frame looked good with him in it-course I thought I looked better- glad we’d kept it.

One thing I’d added without telling him. That steel stake up his dick….now and then I’d put a candle just at the end of it...heat travels in steel so, unless I blew it out, he’d be cooked from the inside out. The potential for poached meat always added a little something I always felt. He always returned the favor but used a propane torch just a bit further away.

The money I finally got bought a lot of things also got me a lot of offers, one of them was Mark another was Larry whom I gave to Joey for his own uses. How did I buy Mark? Well, he sold himself seems he wanted a hot young tail but one that would work him over….

About Joey and Larry? As mentioned, they were really into kink, the truly twisted kind. Time or two Mark and I watched some of what they did….glad they enjoyed it, sent us home shuddering not even tempted to even consider trying it...but they offered us all sort of….experiences....

Don’t get me wrong, I love Mark in my own way, wouldn’t have bought him if I hadn’t but I’d spent too many years as feeling like property myself so being an owner, well, I just found it to be real hot….like the brand I put on him. He’s still a good fuck, enjoy having him ride me whenever I want and, of course, there’s the black room...owner or not, you can’t get me any more aroused than when I feel that collar slam down around my neck….No You Can’t.