Parkside Delivery

Toilet Toy Boy

Now that he was fully trained, he would make great bait for those slow, old grey sharks that circled around that park toilet, feeding on fresh minnows that might get caught in those murky currents.

They had tossed him like a sack of trash into the open bed of the Main Man Maintenance pickup truck, wrapped loosely in his own bedsheet, his baller pants around his ankles, his shoelaces knotted together and that belt wrapping his wrists tightly.

Tony only bounced once and they smirked at those low moans coming from this boy who had already seen his full share of abuse.

There were skid marks on his knees, cum splattered and drying across his body as he turned over slowly, still disoriented from that fog of poppers under that teeshirt pulled up and covering his head, spilled just at his nose onto that rag jammed into his mouth.

Rashid and Kurt would be able to watch as he rolled across the floor of that cab in the grime left from yesterday's sodding project on the football turf. Damn, Tony should consider himself lucky that there was some sod left over, stopping him from rolling too far, even softening that bumpy ride.

Rashid had finally gotten his revenge and Kurt had gotten to work over another fresh piece of Corpus Christi boymeat.

Rashid accepted Community Service as punishment for that “altercation” with the cops, Officer Harding and Rashid Sr. agreeing it might be best left off the arrest rolls, better for all concerned.

Rashid Jr. was not offered a full Basketball Scholarship at Corpus Christi College but was accepted as a Legacy/Townie student with the understanding he would join that Squad. He was resentful but resigned and when the Coach was less that supportive and Rashid had lost any drive to do better academically or on the court.

His family could barely afford the College tuition, never mind the additional costs of tutoring and they had loud discussion over dinner as to his future, further angering Rashid Jr. and any prospects he had on getting away from this backwater Town.

When that opening appeared for the evening and weekend slot on the Security Squad at Corpus Christi it was his father's idea to apply, as they offered free classes during the day, even an opportunity from a full diploma.

Rashid had already sent out feelers to that staff with little knowing of the hot house environment in that Catholic College. All the rookies on the Security Squad were expected to man that overnight shift and these Friday night with Kowalski made those long Summer weeks manageable.

Kurt smiled at the thought of that short trip down those rutted back roads off Campus and a short jaunt along Highway Nine to that park toilet. They would barely see any traffic cruising down Highway Nine but, even then, he doubted Tony would have any strength to get onto his knees, never mind jump naked from the trunk traveling at 40 miles an hour trussed by his belt and his own shoelaces, that tee shirt pulled up and over his head as if a shroud, a penitent prostrate in shame and remorse.

After the major fucking over that he had just endured in that Dorm toilet stall at the hands of those two sadists even Tony knew he wasn't going to be too much trouble.

He nearly drowned held facedown in that toilet, his body aching in spots he'd never touched.

His asslips were so worked over that cumload leaked and ran down his ass cheeks. His balls felt twice as large after the abuse they had taken locked through that gloryhole. His nipples throbbed, scraped raw by those fists gripping his pecs from behind as he was broken and trained like a circus animal, responding on command. 

Tony knew where he was, had seen this Grounds Crew truck yesterday on the field while practicing sprints with the Baseball team. He could feel the grass sod, that gritty dirt coating his back as he lay there. In that moment he felt that he belonged in the bed of this truck, just another pile of trash tagged and bagged to be disposed of at the local dump.

With that rag again stuffed tightly in his mouth he felt like a sack of shit and smelled even worse than those bags of compost thrown onto the truck’s open bed.

He didn't think he was gonna be killed but Tony was too aware of his helplessness, reminded of those bad-ass gangsta flicks his Pussy Posse would watch at the Bijou, identifying with those thugs beating on some decent, upstanding guys doing right in the wrong place.

Sometimes they lived to tell but most times were never seen again. The way he felt Tony didn't ever want to be found, certainly could never tell how he wound up in the condition he was in right now.

He was just a turned-out piece of queer trash and all he could do was lie there, that sweet green turf rubbing against his shoulders, grateful for it's soft touch and that deep earthy smell. It certainly smelled sweeter than him, encrusted in cum and ass juices from those dicks that he had sucked, that had fucked him and had made him their bitch, a howling dog in heat.

He had licked them clean, shiny as a bone from the butcher’s shop, as hard as his own dick that shot it's last heavy load while reamed out by that thick Polish baby maker as Tony groveling in complete surrender. This bed of grass was a relief, a respite from whatever they had planned, wherever they might be taking him.

To Be Continued..