Vinnie and Theo
Back in the office, I refocused my attention on the now extended phone calls happening around me. It was clear something was amiss.
As James disconnected, I started to ask what was going on. He stopped me halfway through.
“It'll be easier to watch than explain.”
He sat down at the computer and brought up our secure CCTV server. Gary put the receiver down and, already aware of what had happened, joined us at the screen.
A few seconds later, we were viewing the history log for the demolition yard.
“This is from yesterday afternoon,” Gary explained.
The recording opened at the programmed start time of 11:55 a.m. In perfect HD resolution, we were looking at an empty shed.
With a tap of the keyboard, James fast-forwarded until movement appeared.
At 12:07 p.m., Vinnie and Theo wandered into view, stripped off their work gear and got on with the job.
“Fuck, nice as ever,” I muttered.
“What’s up?” I asked. “Looks like the normal dusty shithole.”
“It happens later,” James replied as he accelerated the footage. He overshot the point we were looking for.
“Here,” he said, resetting it to 5:21 p.m.
Now covered in grime, Vinnie carefully placed the last brick onto the pallet. Their second pallet of the afternoon was complete—their usual tally.
Off to one side, Theo slowly maneuvered the forklift into position. Just as he raised the forks and looked over his shoulder to reverse, the machine suddenly lurched forward.
The front third of the load shot off the pallet and smashed onto the concrete floor. Two more layers of bricks cascaded down after it, sending up an enormous cloud of dust.
For nearly thirty seconds, the shed disappeared behind the light-brown haze.
As the dust settled, both men remained frozen.
Theo lowered the forks and climbed down. Vinnie, fortunate not to have been standing in front of the collapsing load, joined him. Together they inspected the forklift while Theo tried to explain what had happened using restrained hand gestures.
It was obvious they were in shock.
Eventually, they turned their attention to the newly created pile of rubble.
“That was Vinnie on the phone,” James said. “He described it exactly as we just saw it. Unless they've worked out the shed has cameras, I think he was being straight.”
“I had Dawson on my call,” Gary added. “The owner wasn't happy. I told him to invoice us for one pallet instead of the usual two. He calmed down pretty quickly when he realised he was getting half a load for free.”
“That was fucken close,” I said. “What the fuck happened?”
“Tired. Not concentrating. Left it in drive and was too heavy on the accelerator,” James replied. “I think it shook them up. They know they stuffed up. They only managed to salvage about forty percent of the load before the seven o'clock curfew.”
“Dawson found the broken bricks out the back.”
“I told the boys to be here at 6:30 tonight,” James continued. “I think a corrective session might be in order.”
“They'll want to be fucked,” I grumbled.
“Count me out,” Gary said quickly. “I've got the grease boys tomorrow. I need to be fresh.”
“Just you and me, big guy,” James said, looking directly at me. “You need unloading anyway.”
He jabbed a finger towards me as I instinctively stepped back.
“You wouldn't know what I need,” I replied, drawing raucous laughter from both of them.
Vinnie and Theo had been a team for more than two years.
Recruited at nineteen and twenty, we'd brought them in together. Friends since grade school and a natural fit, it made sense to keep them as a pair.
Their European heritage meant their hair lasering treatments took longer than most. They spent almost their entire two-month tire-unloading apprenticeship undergoing them. Once that was complete, James transferred them to Dawson's Demolitions.
For the past twenty-two months, the painfully straight lads had spent four nights a week and every Sunday afternoon cleaning second-hand bricks.
By day they worked as railway labourers. After hours, they chipped mortar from old bricks and restored them for nothing. The constant lifting kept their physiques lean, muscular and well defined. In effect, we had completely replaced their former after-work gym routine.
Finishing at eleven o'clock on weeknights left them little time for anything beyond eating, working and sleeping.
Despite finding themselves horny much of the time, neither seriously pursued relationships. Like all of the Phantom teams, they could happily participate in crude conversations among the boys at work, yet whenever they found themselves speaking to a woman, they froze. Even simple conversations became difficult. It frustrated them. Didn't it used to be easier than this?
Our original trap caught them masturbating in uniform inside the cab of a train. Had management discovered the footage, they would have been dismissed immediately.
Vinnie accidentally forwarded his self-recorded nine-minute clip to the contact labelled "Tire Retailer." Somehow, Theo's recording arrived in our inbox as well.
Snap.
Since then, we'd expanded their video file considerably.
They weren't going anywhere.
*
We closed the shop at 5:30 and started on the books.
At 6:30 they arrived through the side door and began removing their badly faded overalls.
Standing naked at ease, their grimy faces and stained hands showed they had come straight from a day in the railway workshop.
“Hey, Boss.” “Boss.”
They greeted each of us almost in unison.
I looked up.
“Punks,” James acknowledged, almost as a term of endearment. “What happened yesterday?”
“Sorry, Boss,” Theo began. “My fault. The forklift just got away from me.”
“Well, someone could have been hurt,” James said as he casually walked around the desk and pulled a chair between them.
He let the silence do the work.
“I think two things,” he continued. “The first is that you boys need to take a little more care.”
The hair trigger cocks of our team were well on the rise. James took a firm grip on each shaft and slowly worked them to steel. With ultra full nuts it didn’t take much.
“The second is I think what happened calls for a bolt” our word for the nut shock they were about to receive.
“Oh, Boss, really?” Vinnie blurted. “We're sorry, Boss. It won't happen again.”
“You can be quiet now.”
The words stopped instantly.
“Face each other. Take hold of your mate and don't let go until I tell you. Got that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ok, go” instructed James. Each lad took a double handed grip on the hardened shaft of his mate. Instantly their spines arched backwards, their jaws clinched tight. Sounds best described as tortured squeals, loudly filled the room. James let them be.
“PLEEEEEASSEEEE BOSS!!!” Theo screamed through locked teeth “BOSS!!!! PLEEEA.....
“Ok” he permitted. They immediately released and physically dropped to the office floor. It had been six seconds in total, a serious hit. James and I returned to our paperwork while they recovered.
Seven or eight minutes later, once they were able to sit with their backs against the wall, I told them to go and have a shower.
Still taking oversized breaths, they all but crawled out the back.
James and I simply exchanged a smile.
*
We always fitted ball rings to all our teams. Todd and Danny would get theirs sometime over the next year. The endless solid stainless loop was a little thicker that a ballpoint pen in gauge and custom fashioned to each sack. When in place we distorted the shape under hydraulic pressure to that of an oval. No one could squeeze their balls back through, but the metal wasn’t tight enough to cause constriction. A genuine gonad collar.
When installed, the circled nuts ached for a month and could never retreat into the body cavity as previously. The effect of being constantly held slightly forward made their junk look and feel a little unnatural, we didn’t care. Each fixture conferred ownership and took the guys further towards complete compliance.
Personally, I just liked the way it ‘highlighted’ their hairless bags.
*
About half an hour later, I heard movement outside the office.
The boys had recovered, showered and cleaned themselves up.
“No more fuck-ups at the brick yard,” I said.
“No, Boss.”
“No, Boss.”
I accepted that as the end of the matter.
“Boss?” Vinnie asked hesitantly.
“Yeah?” I answered knowing full well what was coming.
“Can we, fuck?” he continued, “Please?”
“No, not tonight” I responded.
“Come on Boss, please?” Theo chipped in “doesn’t have to be a long one, please?”
“Don’t you think it’s kind of strange” I asked innocently after a contemplative pause, “you guys are meant to be ‘straight’ but you keep asking us to fuck you? I know it started with a wank film but it’s you who want cock all the time”
“Yeah Boss” replied Vinnie, taking a reflective breath “But, we’re so fucken horny you’ve got no idea. So bad, we can’t think Boss! Look at us, we’re fucken rocks just standing here talking about it”. They were, and impressive with it.
“My nuts are so fucken full I can’t piss for twenty minutes every morning till my wood goes down” pleaded Theo, “we’re having more wet dreams now than when we were fifteen! Please Boss, it’s been weeks!”
I let the silence torture them.
“Alright” I relented as James grinned in the background, “but serious deep throats, serious rimming and we’re going to take the pallet of bricks out of your arses before we jack you off!”
“Yessss!!” they responded. They’d won!
A minute later both James and I were pressing our own rods of steel down the throats of our gagging quarry. We fucked them royally for forty minutes before we gave them the ‘reach-arounds’ they so desperately craved. The relief laden iron fist grip, they could never give themselves.
Still buried to my balls in Theo, I pulled him to his feet while Vinnie lay flat on his back working his tongue deep into James’s rear passage. With four strokes of the thick cock in my grasp I aimed the seemingly never-ending flow of white towards the rimming bunny.
By the time I had finished pumping him and his now super sensitive meat dry Theo’s legs were like jelly. He lowered himself to his haunches sucking in as much air as he could. He was a mess.
Within a minute he found himself drenched in Vinnie’s ropes of cum. He let it rain down upon him, he still didn’t have the energy to stand, and it wasn’t like the first time it had happened.
Scott and Jade on the Job
The night after our workshop session, Gary arrived at Lecher Meatworks. As usual, the place was deserted. He could never understand why butchers had such poor security lighting. Surely no one ever stole meat?
Using his key to enter, he reached for the alarm panel. Within seconds, the long corridor before him flickered to fluorescent life. As he made his way towards the fat reclamation area, he could hear the boys talking ahead.
“Punks,” he called as he entered.
“Hey, Boss,” Jade replied.
Scott simply nodded in acknowledgement.
It looked as though the boys had been on site for twenty minutes or so. They had the vacuum set up and were positioning the portable light over the pit. Naked, they already glistened with a light sheen of sweat. It was a warm night, and by the time they finished the two-hour job they would be drenched. Grease-coated skin never seemed to breathe. They would drive home covered in fat and reeking.
As was ritual, Gary walked over to the nearest lad.
Scott immediately straightened, widened his stance and pulled his shoulders back.
The boss ran his hands lightly over the muscular body before him. A minute later he examined the stainless-steel ball ring, nodded, and moved on.
Jade had already positioned himself for inspection.
Like every other crew, the boys had completed the body-hair elimination program. Because of the greasy, pungent nature of their work, however, they were expected to shave from the neck down every second day. Their heads were permanently clipped to a number one.
By the time Gary finished checking for stubble, both men were showing emerging erections. He ignored it for the moment and walked towards the pit.
“Done rock, paper, scissors?” he asked as he peered into the six-foot-deep pit.
“Yeah,” Jade replied, never enjoying it when the boss decided to amuse himself. “I lost.”
“Good,” Gary said. “Go and find the carcass stretcher. I'll start here.”
Jade left with his shoulders slightly slumped.
Scott remained where he was, awaiting his next instruction.
“On your knees punk, I need head bad”
Scott scampered to take up his directed place.
Gary immediately started working his gag reflux, over time. The boy struggled to catch a breath between deep throat thrusts.
Eight minutes later Jade carefully made his awkward re-entry to the room, carrying a light but bulky square framed device. Gary just pointed to the space he wanted it and focused on the mouth and throat before him.
Over the years, the bosses had made extensive use of the equipment scattered along the otherwise deserted production line. The meatworks provided endless opportunities for improvisation.
The auto washers with their inbuilt ability to deliver ‘super enemas’ were a great example. The guys would be writhing in pain as their guts relentless filled.
The day after the chumps almost had to wear nappies as fluid continued its exit well in to afternoon. For Gary and the other bosses, it was hilarious entertainment to have the punks so overinflated.
The pits themselves had once been a constant source of amusement. Sitting in fold-up camping chairs around the edge with beers in hand, the bosses would watch the boys struggle for hours to clean the slippery grease from every surface. More than once they had laughed so hard their stomach muscles ached the following day.
For the workers, there was nothing funny about it. The work was filthy, physically demanding and relentlessly repetitive. They burned with embarrassment the whole time and their deadly to touch shock cocks stayed hard for hours.
As Gary pulled himself free from Scott’s throat, the boy’s chin and chest were covered in thick slobber. He wouldn’t wipe.
Jade had placed the spreader as directed and lay positioned face up, waiting. Gary Velcro strapped the boys’ arms to the corners of the metal frame and cranked the ratchet. Jade’s already ‘spread eagle’ arms were stretched wider. His whole upper body came under lateral strain. He attempted to adjust, groaning under pressure. He wasn’t going anywhere.
With practiced skill, Gary grabbed the guy’s legs and folded them up towards his shoulders. With each limb belted, a second ratchet pulled them apart and down further toward his hairless arm pits. Jade found himself trussed like a fold-away couch. His arse sprung high in the air, vulnerable and ready for entry.
He grunted in discomfort as Gary started work on his dripping cock. He found himself ‘edged’, then left, the boss taking breaks to fuck his work mate.
Twelve minutes after Scott’s load had been sprayed across his face, Jade had his own release he so desperately needed. Despite his physical predicament he considered it fucken sensational, pure relief.
Job done, Gary simply dressed and left.
Scott released his mate and together, unburdened, got on with the job of cleaning the pit.
While they laboured in the sticky grease, they reflected on how lucky they were to have such a great boss.
Danny & Todd Settle In
Through their fifth and sixth weekend shifts, it was obvious Danny and Todd thought that it was just natural for them to be naked in our company. Being clothed just didn’t register.
Their home life had also settled, their pay cut no longer held their attention.
We sat in the office generally unnerved from a week of strange external communications.
As the boy’s container unloading progressed in the back yard, it was clear both were suffering an increased level of horniness. James commented after a lengthy view out the rear office window they were permanently hard.
Both had attempted to have a conversation about dick shocks last week, but we were unexpectedly busy, dealing with storm clouds on the horizon. We’d stayed locked in the office.
When they completed the container refill, they simply packed up and left. It was good to see them self-managing.
We stayed back well after dark.
*
I decided I had better chat with them mid-morning. When I eventually wandered out back, I found them mildly covered in tire grime and sporting two solid hard-ons. Handing each a Diet Coke I gestured towards their junk, asking what was the go?
Danny immediately explained they couldn’t lay hand to cock. If they were stiff, they generated ‘fucken huge’ electric shocks down their meat pipes.
“Fucken kills” he explained. Todd nodded in vigorous agreement in the background.
“So, this shock ends up in your balls?” I asked.
“Yes, yes!” they confirmed.
“Some of the other guys who work for us have the same problem”.
“Really? What do they do?” Asked Todd with hope in his eyes.
“Nothing,” I said, crushing his expectation, “no one seems to know what’s going on”.
“Boss! We have to do something! Anything! We haven’t had a proper wank for a month! And not at all in the last two weeks. We’re so fucken horny we've started wearing sports jocks at work. We’re hard all the time, it’s the only way to hide it”. Todd was frantic.
“Well,” I said, rekindling a spark of hope, “I’m busy now, but I’ll write down what the other guys do to get some relief. If you want you can try it. Ok?”
“Thanks boss, we appreciate it,” replied Todd, “we’ll try anything!”
I smiled inwardly.
*
As they left for work that evening I put them to sleep and deeply massaged their brains. For a full half hour, I reinforced the path they were already leading themselves down. I also loaded an instruction to come in for a Wednesday night after-work shift.
The jack off instructions were simple. Douse themselves, insert and keep in a small butt plug. Wank off and see what happens.
Later, they had great success. Enough that they actually called me that night to say they had managed to rub out a nut, without so much as a tingle. The call was spontaneous on their part. A real indication of their trust, and how much pressure they’d taken out of their bags. We were suddenly on this journey together, not as slaved and enslavers. Our process was working as designed.
They were in for a nasty realization.
Their second jack-off attempt resulted in a terrible possibility.
They experienced a ‘half’ shock.
The third attempt sent them all the way back to full blown ball belting.
*
Next weekend as they discussed the setback, I suggested they try a medium plug. They did with exactly the result from their first experience. Release, half, then back to the full nightmare.
Over the next few weeks, I’d suggested they approach women and trying normal run of the mill sex.
They reported that when it came to someone new, they could never think of anything to say. Their minds went blank. My subliminal instructions were deconstructing their escape routes.
“Regular fuck mates?” I asked.
“We tried that boss, but as soon as our cocks were near pussy the tingle started, same as before the big shocks” explained Danny “our fuck buddies think we’ve gone mad. We were too scared to do anything”
It was time to begin end-game training.
*
“There is one way the guys know works” I started “but you can’t tell anyone about it.”
“Boss?” asked Todd, “we won’t tell anyone.” He added looking to Danny for confirmation.
“Well, for whatever reason it seems that if you can cop being fucked up the arse. You can wank as normal”
“Jesus!” squealed Danny involuntarily, “no fucken way!”
“Hey!” I intercepted before the response got out of hand, “not saying you should, or even offering. Just telling it like it is!”
“You fucking asked.” I snapped.
“Sorry,” retreated Todd. “Thanks, and all, but you know……”
“No problem, but keep it to yourself.”
“We will,” assured Danny shaking his head in amazement at what he had heard.
They had no idea the info was a trigger to even more horniness.
They couldn’t think straight now, they were about to experience a new level of turmoil.
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