The Itch: April 25, 1995 ________________________ Author Contact: Glaucon55@aol.com Reader Comments welcomed ________________________ NOTICE: All the Standard warnings about being of age, being aware of your community standards apply to the following story! Please read no farther if you are underage 18/21--or live in a conservative area--or are offended by explicit sexual stories. ________________________ This is a work of fiction and any resemblence to anyone is strictly coincidental. ________________________
The Itch Part I I picked the two of them up on the Highway, hitching between coastal towns in Texas. The boy, Michael Allen Caldwell was twenty, the girl, Susan Lee Daniels was nineteen. They claimed they were married; I laughed under my breath; they were about as married as I was. They were trash from one of the backwater towns, trying to sneak away from mean parents and dead end lives. They claimed they were on their way to Houston, but hell, they didn't know anybody in Houston. They were just two punk kids, running away. The boy was a fucking jerk dream. His faded 501's fit tight on his muscled thighs, and flat butt. He was about 5'11" tall and 170 lbs. His chest was broad and his pecs jutted rather than projected. His nipples were cones that thrust down, poking the tight white cotton singlett out in two little darts where it clung to his chest. The size 10 walking boots were worn and scuffed, and the white crew socks drooped around his ankles. Dark brown hair curled up and over the neckline of his singlett, and there seemed to be a dark patch that divided his pecs and swirled down towards the waist of his jeans. Lighter brown hair curled down his forearms and covered his fingers, and I guessed his toes. Above the edge of the drooping socks, there was more thick, curling hair. His eyebrows were dark brown, but the hair on his head was lighter, like that on his arms. I wondered what nestled between the firm mounds of his ass. He had full lips, green eyes, and a light brown mustache that was too thin to be mature, and darker goatee. I wondered how sensitive his little ears were. I made up my mind to find out. You have to love these backwards white trash. The punk was too stupid to realize how much some men desired him, his dick was constantly erect for pussy and the smell and sight of a firm titted cunt made him lose any sense that might have been located inside his thick head. Michael Caldwell had always just done what he was told so he wouldn’t get whupped by his father, and when he turned eighteen he knew it was time to be on his own. He didn’t think much, didn’t try to understand things, he just lived. He’d dropped out of high school in his junior year to begin working on cars at the local garage, and the only thing besides a hairy snatch that made him boner up, was the sound of his a motorcycle throbbing between his legs. Unfortunately, he’d smashed up his, and so when he and Susan had decided to take off, they had to hitch. His green eyes were so vacant, so beautiful, I just knew that getting the two of them would not be hindered by any street smarts located in Michael. Susan was in a short skirt, with tanned, long legs, and shapely feet in sandals. Her breasts were full, and thrust up, the nipples poking out the material of her skimpy halter. She was blond, but the roots were dark. I wanted to see more; it looked like she had a cum every time she rubbed her legs together, grinding those thighs and sighing through parted lips. I imagined her clit was 1/2 inch long, and jutted out to get a good rub against Michael’s fat dong every time he screwed in and out of her, causing her cunt to spasmodically grip and massage his big boy pecker, its knob rooting deep in to her and hitting her sweet spot deep inside. That thought made my cock go hard and start to drool, as we drove in silence. When I offered them a place to stay for the night, a meal and a shower, they were grateful rather than suspicious. They were simple kids, though not local. He looked like he’d been in the military at some point; maybe they'd taken off after the end of his tour. I wondered how easy it would be to make them just disappear. I had clients all over the world who would jump to get a pair of bodies like this, pure sex on the run, unrefined and randy, always ready to ejaculate or orgasm and hardly conscious of the reasons why. After dinner, while she went upstairs to take a long bath, I slipped him a mickey in his beer. It did not take him long to pass out on the couch, his legs spread, his body slouched, his head lolling back. I sat down next to him for a minute, tracing my finger over his lips, into his ears, and then rubbed them against his nipples through the t-shirt. Even unconscious, his rubbery tit meat hardened and coned, so I gently rolled then through the white cotton, plucking and pulling on them to make them stand out. I couldn't wait to roll and suck ‘em. I squeezed his full crotch, and felt the long, fat bar inside. Yeah, this would be a pleasure. I lifted him over my shoulder, and took him downstairs into my cyclone basement. It took only a few minutes to slip him out of his clothes, pausing to stroke firm pecs and nipples, pick lint out of his navel, sniff his starchy balls and his wide, muscled feet. His prong was a the fat spike as I expected, jutting from his groin, curved like a scimitar, but not too long; I figured it would be about six and one-half inches hard. But his clipped knob was a fat and rosy helmet, with a wide flange and deep, long piss groove...one of my favorite types. I closed my fist around his prick tip and it fit like a golf ball in the palm of my hand. His prick involuntarily stiffened a bit, and I could feel his dick head getting rubbery. Shit, when that fucker was hard it would take all kinds of work. My dick was soaking my boxers. I put him on his knees on a padded stool with an upper rest for his torso. His head rested on the upper portion of the bench, and I affixed a collar that attached to the bench, and fixed his face sideways. Spreading his legs, I attached his ankles to padded restraints on a spreader bar to keep them wide apart on the stool, while his sexy feet draped over the back edge of the bench. I noticed the long, curved toes did have hair on the two largest on each foot, and he had one of those index toes that ‘s longer than his big toe. I cinched his arms behind his back and pulled them up and secured them to a rope in the ceiling. He wasn't in pain, nor stretched too tightly so that he would cramp. But he was secured firmly. Then I fixed a funnel gag that allowed him to breathe easily, but kept him from being able to say anything. That's how I like my men, strong, sexy, secure, and gagged. Before I went upstairs to the girl, I palmed and stroked his prick to a quick but useless erection. I had a natural here. A handkerchief over the nose ended a brief and useless struggle with Susan. When I finished with her, she was secured on her back on a four-poster bed in the guest room. Her legs were attached to padded restraints over her head, and spread to the two corners at the top of the bed. Her arms were secured outward from her body, and allowed to flap helplessly over the edge of the bed. She had a ball gag, but a rubber one with air holes and not too large for her mouth and I blindfolded her. I propped up her back with a special pillow to support her lower back. Jesus, her pussy was spread before me, light blood hair all around her hole, but the lips were relatively smooth and visible. Her clit was large, and just like her nipples had hardened while I secured her naked and helpless on the bed. I imagined that from the time she was thirteen, he clit had ached to be touched, made her hole long for something to get deep inside and make the itch stop boys had probably been fingering that hole for years. I learned later that when she was fifteen her stepfather had got her drunk and sucked her pussy till she thought she’d die, and then fucked her to her first three cums. From that time on, whenever a good stiff dick was near, her pussy seemed to know and started to drool, making her tits get stiff and her cunt ache. Time to have some fun. I pulled out a slender vibrating dildoe just an half inch in diameter, greased it up, and gently slid it up her firm butt. Then using some straps and a leather holster I secured it around her hips. I switched on its vibrator to the low setting. She had come out of her unconscious stupor and had begun to try to get a sense of what had happened when the vibrator clicked on sending a humming buzz deep into her bowels. She jumped like I had used an electric shock on her. Her butt squirmed, and I began to smell the tell tale signs of pussy. Her head lolled back and forth, she made small squealing sounds through her gag, and scrabbled her fingers uselessly over the edge of the bed. I noticed that her toes, tethered up over her head, curled from the delicious sensation up her anus. I discovered that her brother used to finger her butt before he’d screw her when she was sixteen. He’d seen her getting laid by her stepdad, and one night slipped into her room to get his share. He’d poled her with his eight inch eighteen year old cudgel while strumming her clit and pinching her tits, making her cum and cum again. It wasn’t the last night she’d serviced her handsome older brother. I crawled up on the bed, looking straight up between her legs, I could see her clit slip up and out of its hood at the top of her slit. The lips of her pussy slicked, wet and greasy, and then turned dark and red. Slipping the fingers of my left hand up to her left breast, I began rolling her hard nipple, which turned red and caused more groans and gasps through her gag. With my right hand I took up a very small, firm horse-hair brush, like the brushes women used in the fifties on their eyelashes. It had about a quarter inch of tightly packed, stiff bristles on a small handle designed for fine work. I began a slow, tantalizing path up one side of her pussy lips and down the other, just avoiding her clit for the moment. Once in a while, I'd threaten to burrow the bristles into her cunt hole that seemed tight but could not resist the tiny brush. Then back to itching the sensitive lips. Within minutes her cunt was swimming in clear goo, wet and slick, the lips peeling open to expose even more of the red gash. Soon I had her ass grinding up and down on the bed against the pillow boucing helplessly from the wicked sensations of the merciless little bristles working on the tender, sensitive cunt flesh. Then I turned my hand into mini-vibrator and twirled the bristles against her defenseless, exposed clit. It stretched out in a primitive, mindless angry demand for attention, and I gave it a workout. God, but to see those bristles torturing that clit, making it stretch and redden forcing her ass to move madly from the agonizing and sweet tickle. She began to cum, unable to control her spaztic cunt and insatiable clit. I worked her through a series of spasms, pulling and tugging her titties, and turning up the vibrator in her ass to keep her mind off of finishing her cum. I could hear her screaming into the gag...yeah, a 'screamer!' As long as the brush worked its magic, she kept yelling and groaning. When I let her down, her clit stayed erect as if it could not get enough of the scratchy bristles. I made a mental note. Her chest heaved, and I let her rest. The night was just beginning...I whispered sweet nothings in her ear, told her that she would be just fine as long as she cooperated. I explained to her that a cunt like hers needed constant work to stop the ITCH, and I would make sure it felt good, real good. I told her that her clit would get rubbed by lots of hard pricks, different sizes and shapes, but all with a hard ridge that would maul her joy button and keep it satisfied. Just to help get her ready, I rubbed some special cream I’d bought on the other side of the border onto her pussy lips, into her hole, and on her nipples, and greased the dildo again with the stuff and slipped it back up her squirming ass. I watched as in seconds, her natural moisture coupled with the horrible irritant in the cream I used made her ass start grinding again, this time from the terrible ITCHING. I used one gloved finger with a little bristle pad around the tip to slip more of the cream deep up her cunt hole, making sure the walls were well greased and that I scratched the itch which was driving her insane. Her tits went hard again, and I lubricated them with the same cream and finger pads, and she began babbling again behind the gag. As she groaned, I scratched a fingernail on her still tumescent clit, then leaned close and blew some of my hot breath against it. She jumped having a mini cum that only made the tickling high up inside her cunny more unbearable. I’ll be back Susan, now you just lie here and get some rest, don’t let that itching get to you and try not to cum too much. I heard her gasp and yell something unintelligible into her ball gag, and as I walked out the door heard her scream as she spontaneously had an orgasm from the constant tickling and the work of the little vibrator up her ass. But her butt kept bouncing, unable to stop what was happening, and I smiled as I left her to baste in her juices for a while, her clit stabbing into the air begging for some attention. Down in the basement, I found the boy had awoken but was a still a little groggy, his fingers struggling futilely to loosen the bonds holding his wrists tightly behind him and secure. Perspiration rolled down from the dark hair under his arm pits and wet his brow. I was on the side away from his eyes, and I blindfolded him to make his situation truly helpless. He tried to move his head and speak through the gag, but his efforts were fruitless, coming out in muffled grunts and groans. I leaned down, and took a deep whiff of his body. The perspiration was musky, but not rank. His hair still smelled of soap from the shower he took when we first got to my house. I leaned down behind him, and took a deep scent close to his balls. The strong starchy smell was an elixir, and the eggs had involuntarily tightened in their pebbled pouch. Much to his surprise, I gently spread his ass cheeks and smelled his hairy crack. There was no strong scent, or pungent smell of shit, just more vestiges of soap and the sweaty scent of manhood. I used my finger-nail to gently scratch the puckered pink ass lips encircled by a thick thatch of hair. He jerked his hips, rotating them, as if to escape the finger. Then I drew a fingernail over each duck egg nestled in his full scrotum, and then along the fat, thick ridge from balls to ass pucker. He wiggled, he grunted, and best of all his dick quickly hardened involuntarily...I could hear him sucking air through the funnel. I squeezed some of the special cream lubricant I had used on Susan onto the index finger of a latex gloved right digit, once again covered with a thick shock of short horse hair bristles. Lowering the finger, and spreading his strong cheeks with my other hand, I began a gradual but firm irritation of Michael’s clenched butt hole. The dark hair in his crevice almost obscured the tip of my finger when he flexed his ass against the invasion, but he could not obstruct my inevitable path to his most private and protected portal. Plus, once the cool cream touched his hidden anal entry, and the tender flesh of the lips, it became at once irritated by the maddening itching sensation. The itching caused the tiny knot to spasm and the muscles to relax and then flex. I was able to breach the portal on one of those spasms and worm my fingertip gently and oh so slowly into the clenching channel. Once I got my fingertip in, I removed it suddenly and replaced it with a nozzle of a squeeze bottle. I squeezed some more of the creamy lube up and into his hole, then I once again screwed my fingertip in behind it. The result was spectacular. When I finally, gradually, wormed my blunt, finger up his confused hole all the way to his prostrate and let my nail, outlined against the thin latex and covered with the bristles, scratch against it, Michael let out a yelp through his gag that meant I struck paydirt. Once there, I prodded the thick lump and then scratched it again and again. The relentless fingering achieved my intent. His prick jerked rock hard, curved and jutting up, dripping a clear lube from the deep piss slit, straining to accommodate the unfamiliar pressure deep up his butt. I whispered into his ear, telling him how boys like him needed strict cock supervision. ‘He’d been playing around and using that dick too much, but I would take care of that for a while,’ all the while watching his thick, curved pecker strum with vibrations from the intense sensation up his fundament, the fat knob now covered with his sticky pre scum. I explained that in my experience, guys like him were better off being secured, their big boy pricks under restraint, and then when appropriate, those angry hard dicks milked and drained on a schedule. Then I rubbed his nut hard prostrate again, making sure the bristles danced on it and the angry red dots that no doubt now covered its surface. Up burped more pre-scum, lubing his fat dick knob that rested against his stomach atop his painfully hard prick stalk. He squealed and groaned behind his gag, and his body tensed from the new and strange sensation deep up his asshole. The pressure was unrelenting, but his dick though straining and rigid, could not yet reach ejaculation. I whispered again: "yeah, that's it, someone should have been doing this to you since you were sixteen, keeping that dick hard and wet, but not letting you waste the gism. I'm gonna give that cock relief on a schedule, train it and you, and you're gonna earn it by keeping in good shape and following every order I give you. Otherwise, you're gonna be tied down and shown what happens to disobedient boys...you got that tiger, you need training and I'm gonna give it to you." His hands clenched helplessly, and his perspiration dripped in streams from under his arms, and his brow and from behind his gag loud and persistent though indecipherable noises. He couldn't see or speak, only groan and moan as I handled his precious body, a body that had never been out his control in this way. I had the fucker sex hard and scared shitless. He gasped and groaned as my finger continued its unerring work, tried to plead or talk or something, but when I wet the fingers of my other hand and begin rolling his conical tits, I was sure he lapsed into a new kind of moaning. Yeah, he was the kind of boy whose body dictated his response. He wanted to fight, he wanted to escape, but his dick, his tits, and ass betrayed him, making him a howling boy slut. I alternated the fingers from plucking the sensitive rubbery teats, to tickling his piss lips and cock flange with my finger pads, revolving my callused fingertips around his pebbled, hard glans, to gather the lube and moisten his titties for more of my roiling. After his dick was slick from lube and desperate for some rough contact that would relieve his tension, I suddenly plunged my tongue deep in his exposed ear held fast by the collar. At the same instant, I used my fingernails to scratch, rather than tease his plump, over- stimulated dick tip. Without warning, his glans expanded from this sensation, and his cock spasmed, helplessly squirting ten long ropes of thick, white cum up and out. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven...ten shots of varying distance and force, then drips, finally ending in a drool while my finger played a number on his prostrate, and my fingers pulled and scratched the stiff tips of each tit. His chest heaved; his body dripped sweat. I noticed his strong toes had curled hard when he came. I wondered how they would react if I used a stiff bristled brush on them while I probed up his asshole with a vibrating little prod to make the cum squirt from his fat balls. I picked up a slim dildoe with a spiked tickler on the tip and gently, gradually screwed it up his hole so he would not be in real pain. Using a harness, I secured it around his waist and thighs. Then I turned it on low, a steady buzzing testifying to the maddening work on the unprotected prostate, already sensitive from the previous prodding of my finger and the continued work of the itching lubricant. His dick snapped up hard again after a brief respite from the initial cum. More lube burped up to the lips of his thick, wide prick knob. Using the dregs of his cum and the new lube, I began a slow twist of my fingertips around the sensitive glans once again. The angry red of the irritant soon appeared all around his fat sweet dick knob. His cock was desperate for real contact because it had not been massaged into submission in a clenching fist or gripping pussy when he had come the first time. As he gasped and groaned, desperately trying to keep his prick tip from my rough, tickling fingertips, I whispered again into the ear so recently wet from my screwing tongue. "Yeah that it big boy, that prick without a conscience need adult supervision needs to be tickled and played with it by someone who knows that you’re one of those straight boy whores who lives for his cock. Guys like you need to be kept prick hard for a week before you're allowed to screw some chick, and then if you cum too quickly, you should get a cattle prod on the balls. From now on, that pecker will only cum when its given permission. You got that tiger, you're just a dick on a boy from now on, and you're new job will be to satisfy others with that thick cudgel...and maybe, just maybe, you'll get a little relief too. Those spunky balls are going serve up slime on command from now on...yeah....but if you’re not good, you may never touch it again." As I tickled his dick almost beyond endurance, I also told him that I knew some guys who be happy to relentlessly fuck his girlfriend into a delirium of orgasms, so he shouldn’t worry about her. I told him he would hear her groan and beg for dick as they masterfully fucked her silly, and gave her itchy cunt a cum bath to soothe the endless ITCH. I told him we would jerk her off in restaurants, on car trips, in bars, just to see her eyes roll and watch her bite her lips as she gushed pussy juice on waiting fingers. And using a remote controlled, powerful little electric ass plug up his butt, he’d have to sit there and watch with a hand massaging his hard pecker, but not enough for him to cum. We’d invite guys in johns to give him hand jobs, and take him to drive ins where he could be moved from lap to lap while we pinched his titties, sucked his ears, and played with his pecker. When we had both of them at home, he would be strapped right below long and stiff dicks reaming in and out of her hungry pussy, and he would have to lick her cum and theirs from her sticky hole to soothe her twat between screws. His job would be to keep her primed and ready for more dick, and fuck if he wasn’t going to see dick close up in her cunny from now on. If he didn't cooperate, I warned him I'd use an electric brush on his balls, feet, abs and under his arms until he screamed himself silly begging us to stop tickling him. God I love whispering nasty shit into their ears when their prick hard and tied down. Even as I spoke, though, fuck if his randy dick didn’t just hardened up even more, his tits jutting against my plucking fingers, and he moaned like I'd said stuff that got to him and stretched his fuck pole with unexpected, mindless pleasure. I told him if he licked pussy good, and also the men's hairy assholes to help them enjoy the fucking, he would get the gentle dildoe up his hole and a nice rough palm on his prick to soothe his needs on a regular schedule. If he licked the guys toes, and their arm pits, he'd be bounced on laps while his boy dick was massaged to gism spewing cums. Otherwise, I use my own version of an electric toothbrush on his dick knob and up his asshole, and I'd add some irritant (the cream) to raise angry red bumps on his prick tip, on his tits, and up his butt along the sensitive lining. The last thought must have sent him over the edge, because without warning, he creamed again against my teasing fingers as I rasped out the threat of scrub brushing his dick knob. I immediately decided I'd try it anyway since the thought seemed to cause him such pleasure. "Oh, oh... now you've been a bad boy, and creamed without permission. Well, I'll just have to come back here and give you the appropriate punishment, later...." He sagged in his restraints, and seemed to sob behind the gag. But his dick hadn't gone soft. This boy was going to stay hard until I decided who would get both he and the girl for the overseas market. I wondered how he'd look with his legs strapped over his head, and mouth gagged open while his hard prick was jerked off into it and filled with ropes of his own cum? If he was lucky, I’d have guys bring over some of their boys stashed away around the county, to be masturbated into his funnel for him to swill their cum too. Some of these boys were only not allowed to cum without permission for days, depending on how unruly and undisciplined they were. There were a couple of hard cases I knew, one ex- Marine and a good old boy trash, that had been kept bonerized but without relief for more than two weeks. Yeah Michael would get some good loads down that throat before we shipped him abroad for some rich folks’ pleasure. These young, mindless kids, they’ve just got the ITCH, and they need to have it soothed and managed. Michael Caldwell and Susan Daniels were now lost from the pages of history, but their supple young bodies would serve as tasty morsels for many a wealthy person's palate, and getting them ready would be an absolute delight. As I left him to return to Susan, I scooped some of the thick white scum that had burped from his dick onto my finger and tasted it. A nutty, starchy flavor, and more where that came from. Boy was this gonna be fun....
The Itch: Part II, August 30, 1998- Revised November 11, 2001 What was I to do with them? The girl was easy to dispose of, there were men whom I knew who would take her to Mexico, and through connections sell her abroad. She would fetch good money on the international slave market. Especially since she was unable to control her orgasms, there would be wealthy people who would pay to see her trained into a female squirt gun, day in and day out. The boy was more complicated. Yes, there were folk who would purchase him. But boys are more difficult to manage. And although Michael was a pussycat with an unruly dick, there would still be fewer contacts that would be willing to deal with him. I decided that as long as I had both, I would play with them for a while until I could dispose of them both. While my connections made arrangements, there were still moments of fuck lust to video. I carefully checked their identifications. His wallet was a beat up thing with a Utah driver's license. There were no pictures of family in the wallet, and I could find no telephone numbers. I learned later that he was an only child from a strict Mormon family, unusual to say the least the way Mormons fuck. He had rebelled against the strict rules that kept his dick hard and aching all the time, run away to Arizona, and had eventually found his way to Texas where I had picked up both he and the girl. She was from Northern Arizona and didn't seem to have a background. She was two years younger than him, and had few possessions. There was a telephone number in her wallet for a cousin in Pennsylvania. But the paper was old and had obviously not been removed from the wallet for some time. These kids were on their own, and now they were temporarily in my possession. After our first night which I described previously, I tied Michael to a bed in a room next to Susan's. I kept him blindfolded, so that I could manage him better. He had calmed down considerably, and in spite of his feeble efforts to show bravado, his fear ultimately made him do everything I asked. I told him that if he and the girl just cooperated for a few days, I'd take them back out on the road, and let them go. I said I would blindfolded them, but with at least one hand free to loosen themselves. He bought it, but begged me not to hurt them. Shit, I wasn't going to hurt them...though the thought of a little torture was clearly on the agenda. My goal was to enjoy their superb physical beauty, and milk the juices out of them for my pleasure before I made some tangible profit from shipping them to markets where white boys and girls are sold for sex at a premium prices. It was one thing to get a Chech, Yugoslav, Bulgarian, or Romanian boy or girl. They were sexual animals that were well appreciated on the open market, and easy to obtain... especially the ones between 17 and 22. But to get Americans was one of the top market scores. Since I specialized in that market, I knew these two lovely kids would fetch a fine premium. Initially, I tied Michael spread eagle, with his fine, muscular feet open and exposed, as well as his hairy armpits. His firm stomach muscles, etched with youth and work, were carefully delineated, his navel barely visible from beneath the hair in and around it, and his sweet cock, resting flaccid and exhausted from the night before over a sac of big, heavy testicles that were already brewing another batch of boy crud for my enjoyment. I had taken him cuffed, with a spreader bar, and blindfolded into the shower and washed him down. Fuck, to see him hobling to the shower, his big feet padding on the rung, the spreader bar making him almost hop. His hands cuffed up behind his back, and the blindfold forcing him to accept my direction. He was so big, so pale, and so sexual, and so helpless. The sweet boy funk and the natural musk had washed down the drain. When I washed his prick it immediately erected and giving him a gentle douche rather than a full enema had tickled his prostate and made him start to drip sap as if on cue. After drying him, inspecting his ears, cleaning the lint from his navel, and looking carefully between each toe, I had taken him to the room. He'd been wearing flip flops when I picked him up, and I guess keeping his feet exposed kept them clean as well as strong. I was surprised that his heels and soles were not callused, just naturally soft and supple in spite of the muscular strength of each of his feet. I oiled his soles and the palms of his hands, knowing how sensitive the skin became as it was softened. I'd use that feature, and I know it would make him even more appealing to clients. Susan remained in her room. I kept her legs separated by a wide spreader bar, that caused her labia to be separated just slightly. That way, any breeze that entered the room, from the fan in the corner or even the window if I opened it, would send a sweet shiver right to her clit, and cause it to make her drool cunt juice. Even a hint of a breeze, or the sense of a touch, would cause her fine nipples to harden and crinkle, almost painfully-desperate to be massaged or pinched. The night before, I had gotten her to describe to me how it felt when Michael fucked her. Jesus she was a slut. As I licked her tits, and scratched my rough fuck finger up and down her slot, she told me the whole story. Between..."mmmmmmmnnnnn...uuuuugggghhh.... Aaaaahhhhh... mmmmm... aaaaghhhhhh...." from the insidious tickling of her cunny, she said she met him at a bus station in Tucson, and when he saw her sitting towards the back of the bus going to Dallas by herself he immediately joined her. She liked the way he talked, his soft drawl, and the way his jeans fit his thighs and calves, his long muscular legs and pale muscled feet, and then there was the fading bulge at his crotch. By the time the lights were out, and the bus driving through the night, he had one blunt, callused fuck finger, stroking the outside of her damp panties, making her wet them more, and squirm from the delicious feeling of his finger pad gently pushing the material between her cunt lips and roiling her clit. While they talked in soft tones, without anyone realizing, he used that finger to make her cum twice as they drove...and he knew it. She said that though his voice was soft and deep, and he spoke so gently, when he felt her cum he said stuff to her that made her crazy. He urged her to squirt her juice on his finger, to submit to its rough, domination...talking low and dirty. As she described his insidious finger fuck, I had slipped my own rough digit up her slot, and used my thumb to two work her whorish clit as the story continued. Once they dot to Dallas, they found a room in a cheap motel, and he fucked her three times the first night, making her squeal with pleasure as his thick curved cock rasped against her insolent love button, exposing it, and bending it against the rigid stalk as he stroked in and out like an experienced bronco buster. He continued to talk sweet and low, but fucked like a champ, flexing those strong thighs and driving that tight ass and keeping her pinned beneath his strong, lithe body. The next day, while they were hitch-hiking from Dallas he took her behind a road sign, and sucked her pussy and pinched her tits until she cried that she couldn't cum one more time. He gave her that sexy, handsome smile, his face wet with her juices, and then unbuttoned his jeans so she could suck him off once for the road. The laughed at their own inside jokes, as the talkative business man who gave them their next ride, had no idea how recently they had been spiting fuck juices. I began trolling my tongue between her fat, sticky cunt lips as she babbled her confession, occasionally flicking her clit, but mostly rolling her tits, and her gasping and grunting as I made her squirt more and more strong sap onto my tongue. I told her until she got the whole story all out, I wouldn't let her cum again, and she hastened to comply, anxious to have that cunt contract just one more time. God I love a helpless snatch that can't control the need for a soothing touch once the juices start to flow. Before I let her cum, I made her describe how her step-father and brother felt when they fucked her, made her describe their cocks in detail...describe the taste of their cum when they shot sticky loads down her throat, and how their fat knobs would torture her clit when they fucked her. When she got to her brother bringing one of his buddies home and fucking her twice each, and getting her to suck them to one last cum, I felt her cunt contract and then flood my tongue and mouth with her tangy soup. Before I left the room, I had her legs propped back and up at the knees so they rested against her boobs, still wide apart because of the spreader bar. Then I placed a board with a short dildo attached to it between them and inserted its slender but pebbled surface just inside her cunt lips, coated with the lovely gel that would drive her almost insane. She could mash her clit against the short prod just barely, and tickle her sensitive labia that were itching terribly from the sticky lube. But she couldn't bring herself off, so she spent the night in a fitful sleep, occasionally awaking to desperately try to jerk herself off, but unable to do so. Her tits were like firm stones when I saw her in the morning, aching from the need to be relieved of the natural and induced itch deep up her trough. The more she drooled, the more the sticky gel irritated her cunt hole, clit and labia, making them itch madly. Michael was a more difficult case. He wasn't the kind of boy who blabbed his private life...mostly because unlike the men who brag, Michael actually got the piece of ass he wanted. His stunning good looks and easy manner, that soft, deep voice and the lazy way he spoke lulled the senses, and made panties get wet. I unleashed his feet one by one, while he remained blindfolded, and attached them to spreader bar placed under his knees. I then detached each wrist and attached them to the ends of the bar, outside of his legs. That way, Michael was deliciously bowed, exposing his hairy little ass pucker and balls, and the tender soles of his feet. Not surprisingly in this position I was able to extract a considerable amount of information from the tasty little punk. First I told him that I wanted to get a full account of his sex life from the first ejaculation to the present. I wanted to know about the chicks he'd fucked, the strange places he'd jerked off in, and the times he'd let guys touch his cock. At first there was nothing, but when my finger began to tickle his ass pucker, he got the message and began to talk. But Jesus, it was clear that he'd never spoken of this stuff much, so I told him that he needed some incentives: "Michael, ten words in succession is not a story...and I know you've heard guys tell tales of cunt and cock. So you've got to do better. And just to make sure that you understand that I mean business, here's just a taste of what you'll get if you don't make this confession a hell of lot more interesting." I picked up an electric toothbrush that was plugged into a wall socket. I'd added the spinning bristles to the powerful motor of an automatic screw driver. Some modification gave me the power, at various speeds, with the motion of the brush both back and forth and with the press of a button, bristles spinning. The brush I'd attached had various bristle tips, and the one I put on now had firm, upright bristles. I switched it on, and brought the vibrating base next to Micheal's face...he could hear the buzzing motor and feel the nearby vibrations. "Michael, you know, I learned a long time ago that big strong guys like you are often unable to stand something as simple as a little tickling? Am I right...(he said nothing, but I could see the perspiration beginning to form under his arms and at his temple and his hands and feet moved aimlessly in their bonds). Maybe if I just helped you relieve some of your tensions, you could do a better job of telling me about your prick life, what do you think?" He babbled that he'd do better, but I had not intention of letting him off the hook. I wanted to be sure that he'd sing like a bird when I was through. I lowered the brush, set at the lowest level, near to his face. The whirring bristles got closer and closer, and he thrashed his head back and forth to avoid them..."no...don't I said I tell ya what you wanted...com'on, no, don't...fuck...don't do this, why're doing this...I told ya I'd tell....nnnnnoooooooo." That last plaintive plea came as the bristles made the slightest contact with the space next to his ear lobe, on his cheek, and then whirled through the emerging stubble of his beard, down to his neck. God I loved it how he thrashed and scrabbled his fingers and toes, gurgling and begging, as I worked that toothbrush back and forth over his adam's apple, and just under his nose and into the tender entrance to his nostrils. He howled and pleaded, saying he'd do anything...but he already had...springing a raging hardon that was drizzling clear pre-sap over the wide piss lips and fat knob of his big boy pecker. When I let the bristles work up each of his tender, rubbery nipples the cones turned red and stiff from the sweet sensation of those wicked little bristles, suddenly twirling round and round with a press of my finger on the button, making him arch as little as he could under his current bondage. But the real test of my efforts came when I used the stiff little tooth brush over his rock hard abdominal muscles and scoped out his hairy little navel. That's when the song began..."AAAAAHHHHH, AAAAAAGGGGHHH...HAHA, NO HAHAHAHA...NO...I CAN'T BREATH...PLEASE...AAAHAHAHA....NOOOOOOO...I'LL TALK, I'LL TALK....AAHAHAHAHA.....!" His toes were tightly curled, and I had not even reached them yet...and all the while his throbbing erection spurted drops of pre cum, basting the bloated fuck tip and making it a perfect target as our session went on. But I was satisfied for now that Michael was ready to spill his guts, and when I asked him to begin, I was so pleased with the progress that only fifteen minutes had produced. I realized though, that the intense reaction to tickling ensured that Michael would be put through a complete session. His dick drooled too much to miss the chance to see how it would respond when his senses were totally confused, and he could not control himself. With me fiddling with the toothbrush, gently dragging it here and there on his firm young body, Michael reluctantly told me his story. When he was twelve he'd learned that his dick could provide exquisite pleasure. He'd started out, quietly masturbating himself in bed at night, first by fucking the sheets, and later by lubing his fist with spit and sliding it up and down his big, curved boy pecker. But when he was thirteen, the older boy next door showed him after a wrestling match that boys naturally got hardons and that they were supposed to be relieved. For about a year, their relationship developed and the boy showed him many ways to shoot cum, including getting one's dick sucked...a pleasure that Michael could not resist. He refused to suck the older boy's cock, but once he got hard, it always seemed it was just a matter of time before the kid had Michael's own pants down at his ankles along with his briefs. It felt so good to have his rough palm sliding up and down the boy's curved prong, and when his tongue was licking up and down the helpless teen's aching erections, eventually sucking until he shoot streams of boy juice, Michael wanted to resist but couldn't. These sessions continued until Michael was fourteen, but then he'd discovered girls. Girls always seemed to want to touch him, and he let them. It started with the older sister of one of his friends, who seduced him when he'd come over to visit his buddy. His cock seemed helpless once introduced to the tight muscles of a clinging cunt, and she'd drained three ejaculations from him while he learned to suck her tits and make her grunt and groan in pleasure. From then on, he never was without a chick to drain his dick. Blow jobs at the drive in movies, Friday night fucks in the back seat of the car on some lonely road, wherever he could, he got his dick serviced. Only once more, before he'd graduated from high school had the neighbor kid sucked his dick. He'd come home from a date, drunk...and his girl had puked before he could nail her. She'd cried and wanted to go home, and his week's load of boy scum had his balls bloated. His neighbor, now nineteen, saw him staggering in late and managed to get his hands on his crotch as he offered to help him into the house. He said he couldn't remember what happened, but somehow he was on the couch, while he parents and siblings were sleeping, getting his thick curved cock expertly sucked. His ass had bounced instinctively as the neighbor's hot mouth lubed and nibbled, sucked and vacuumed, licked and lashed his sensitive cock knob until he had shot volley's of teen cum down the voracious throat. He woke up the next morning in his own bed, and he never spoke to the kid next door again, always making sure to avoid him whenever he saw him. Once he left Utah, he seemed to always find a gal "that needed what he had to offer." He'd screwed several college girls, a housewife, and a bar maid in Tuscon during the time he stayed there. He'd learned to keep his hands off his dick so that he could fuck forever, and he loved the way women whined as he long dicked 'em, grinding their clits with his rigid stalk. Seemed like there was always a horny bitch wanting to suck his dick, and he never disappointed a lady with a wet snatch. He just liked to make them purr and squeal when he sucked, fingered or fucked 'em. The way a pussy clutched his dick, just made him want more and more. He couldn't get his wick dipped enough, but he was never mean or pushy. Girls just saw that handsome, sweet boy next door mug and melted into whatever he wanted to do with their sticky pussies and taut titties. I made sure his dick remained rigid while he told me his story, fingering his nipples, scratching inside his navel, rubbing the tooth brush gently against his ball sack, inside his thighs, or briefly against the bottom of his feet. Here was one of those boys whose cock worked independently of his brain, always ready to get touched and sucked. I used a ball stretcher and cock-ring on Michael, once I masturbated him into another unwanted erection. Then I lubed and slipped a very slender and short dildo up his asshole, covered with small, stiff points that rested just below his prostate. Every time he moved that night, the remote sensor in this wonderful little device I bought in Hong Kong, would activate its vibrator, and he would be given a sweet little massage on his fuck nut that made his prick go stiff and drool. I later learned that he had only had a finger up his butt once before he encountered me, when an older cousin of his tied him up and stripped him when he was fifteen during some horsing around in a barn. The kid had lowered his pants and briefs, sucked his finger, then tickled it up the resisting hole while Michael threatened to kill him when he got free. But he admitted that he sprung a boner, and that his cousin had pulled it down between his legs, and hooked it under the briefs that were at his thighs. He said his cousin's taunting finger fuck, coupled with him using the other hand to just jerk and tickle the knob of his aching schlong, made him shoot crud for what seemed like a minute. He'd yelped and groaned from the overwhelming sensations and the ticklish itch that seemed to envelop his prick tip. People just couldn't keep their hands of Michael, or his dick. Now that I had learned both of the backgrounds, I wanted Michael and Susan ready the next day for more fun and games. I was not disappointed. The next morning, after I let him piss and shit while I supervised and wiped him clearn, I hosed down Michael in the shower, and fed him while blindfolded and bound. I placed him on his knees on a floor level rolling cart. His knees were spread by a bar, and his arms tied down to his ankles, bowing his chest out the opposite direction he'd been while trussed on the bed the day before. I put a collar on his neck, and fastened a chain from the collar to the cart in between his legs which dangled off the back of the it. That caused his head to be tipped slightly backwards. I supported his lower back and neck with a firm pillow bolster I made for this use, and it allowed him to thrust his tits up like a girl, keep his asshole available from underneath, and tip his head up towards anything that his tongue might have to service. Much to my surprise, but also my delight, Michael's thick cock had erected and was dripping by the time he was wheeled into the room with Susan whom he could not see. For her part, Susan was crouched in a wide, standing squat. Her legs were keep separated and her feet on the surface of a table split wide enough to roll Michael's cart between. By firmly attaching her feet to fixed bolts in the thick wooden surface of the table, Susan was squatting high enough for Michael's head to just reach her sodden pussy. Two strong metal braces lined with padding and fixed to the respective side of the table-top took her weight off her thighs and calves by supporting the bottom of her buttocks and the top of her thighs. Her arms were cuffed up high between her shoulder blades so that her breasts were thrust out, and her nipples aimed upwards were fully exposed and engorged. I had a blindfold over her eyes, and a small vibrating penis gag in her mouth. I also had her ears covered so she could hear nothing. The squat of her legs allowed her blonde pubis to thrust out and down between her buttocks, open and ever moist. From below, I had a stream of moist air flowing up from a narrow and specially designed blower fixed on one side of the table between her legs, moistening her cunt lips to make them wet, red and irritated and making her molested clit ache for a soothing touch. I used one had to twirl her nearest nipple, and rubbed my rough thumb at the top of her labia, causing her to grunt against the ticklish gag in her mouth. God I liked that immediate, instinctive response. Now the games were to begin. I rolled Michael over to the squatting woman who had been his lover less than 48 hours earlier, but whom he could not see. She for her part did not know he was in the room, and could neither see nor hear him. I asked him, as his upturned face and his nose came under her now moist and fragrant cunt, what he smelled: He said nothing until I scratched my fingernail in his armpit, and then he croaked: "I smell pussy, Mr." "Yes indeed, Michael, something that I know you like very much. I'm told by Susan that you're quite a dog, and that you lap cunt with the best of them." "I've always have had a hankering for pussy juice since I was sixteen," he said with a sweet honesty that indicated he'd decided to go through this and just get out alive, "and my best friend's older sister let me lick her snatch one afternoon after baseball practice while I waited for hm. She showed me how to stick my tongue up her hole, and tickle her joy button, and I kind liked the way she squeaked each time I made the mark." I watched as the perspiration began to drip from his armpits. "Well, Michael, I've got a ripe pussy for you to lick right here. It belongs to a girl that can't stop juicing, she's a regular prick hound. In fact she's got one fine little snatch, nice and blond with fur all along the hole, and the lips spread so you can get to the tasty meat just inside, and a clit that looks like its a half-inch long and throbbing for something to rub it. Jesus, I'm looking up into that hole, just above your nose Michael, and I can see the juice dripping down, ready to coat your face." He asked me whether she was clean, he didn't want to eat a nasty cunt, but I smiled as I noticed his dick had gone rigid, and was curving up and out, sticky wet from his pre-cum, dripping down. "Oh she's clean right now Michael...you're lucky. But you never know...she's so horny for dick, we might need to find some young guys to fuck her and fill her with their sap, and then we'd need to have someone clean her snatch out...maybe you?" He protested, saying he wasn't into that and telling me he'd been cooperative, so why would I want to do something like that...he just wanted to finish so I'd let him and Susan go. I assured him he'd be okay...not to worry, just concentrate on the job at hand. There was a sticky cunt, sweet and hairy, just waiting to be sucked and he was the man for the job. But now I was going to add some fun for both of them that they were not suspecting. I took a half-inch paint brush, dipped it into a bowl of thick clear gel, and swabbed the lips of Susan's horny cunt, rummaged the bristles all around her clit and its fleshy cover, and then deep up the hole to her joy spot. She squealed and howled through her gag, the unsatisfying tickling driving her wild, making her hands scrabble behind her back. I turned on the penis vibrator in her gag to its lowest setting to distract her from the sensation of the bristles. She grunted and groaned in frustration from the ticklish intrusion that failed to help her achieve a much needed orgasm. Then I took the same brush and basted her conical tits. What she did not know was that the gel was a fierce itching compound and topical aphrodisiac that worked on the erectile tissues, and with the chemical composition of cunt juice or sperm. Within moments, the interior of her cunt, the weeping labia, and inside, around and on her unprotected clit, little red bumps appeared that were not painful but itched to the point of distraction and madness. The same occurred on her tits, and soon would be doing the same up her asshole. I inserted a thin glass rod with horsehair bristles coated with the cream up her fundament, and the end of the thing had a wire that led to a console where it could be activated into a quivering, spinning probe that could not be ejected because of the harness that kept it in place. Over her tits, I slipped two loose clips that would not cause pain but would conduct electrical shocks to the itching nipples, and sometimes a steady current that buzzed those already stiff nodes into a tickle that could not be imagined. Within seconds of activating the entire combination, Susan was squealing helplessly, her disobedient cunt craving the horrible sensations that flooded her dick obsessed brain. When she started to squeal and scream around her buzzing penis gag, I turned on its vibrator to the next level so that the plastic would tickle the roof of her mouth and buzz her teeth, rattling her out of her ability to concentrate on the incredible itch and tickle that had overtaken her body's most erotic locations, and prevented her from concentrating on a much needed cum. Now came the final piece of the puzzle. First I told Michael to open his mouth. As he did so, I slipped in a retainer that helped him keep his mouth slightly open, and allowed his tongue free movement. I then slipped a special, flexible sheath of soft plastic over the end of his tongue, and was secured by small rubber bands into groves on the inside of the retainer so it would not slip off. The sheath could move back and forth, sideways, and up and down as the tongue moved, tethered to the retainer. The plastic sheath covered the broad surface of the tongue, and the protruding tip beyond. Michael had a long, flexible tongue, and I could imagine how girls had loved to see his handsome, movie star face, and then had a small orgasm when he stuck his tongue down their throats. Just the thought of that soft, long, flexible tongue made their cunts go sticky. The further genius of the device was that the soft plastic cover was coated with a fine pad of stiff, short horsehair bristles. The consistency made the bristles flexible and soft one the one hand, but scratchy and firm enough to irritate on the other. I rolled Michael back slightly so his nose was nearer Susan's palpitating asshole clenching from the bristle massage deep inside, and his mouth was poised right at the line of the quaking, slippery cunt. I sprayed some neutralizing liquid into his mouth, to prevent him from developing the maddening bumps from the gel that coated Susan's hole. But if his tongue slowed from its appointed rounds of making the sliding bristle pad graze back and forth over Susan's labia and clit, and deep into her spasaming trench, a brief shock would be delivered to his tongue by virtue of a small sensor wire to remind him of his duty. I had a narrow mteal band that fit just under his fat glans, with another small sensor wire. I circled his heavy, hanging nut sack, and clipped his tits. The same treatment slated for his tongue would be delivered to his dick, his balls, and his tits if he did not perform vigorously. The sensor sent that signal along with a random spinning, flexing and thrusting motions to a special little vibrator that I slipped up his asshole covered with the same tickling horsehair, as I had given to Susan. I told him his charge, and set him in motion. "Michael, you need to try and wring six or seven orgasms from this slut within thirty minutes, or I'll slip a mechanical milking device over your dick and leave it on you all night. So let's get to it shall we?" He grunted from the thought of my threat, but that throbbing erection of his just dripped more and more sap as he launched himself into his task. Michael thrust his blind tongue straight up to where he thought the cunt was located, not knowing that he was torturing sweet Susan, his bus-stop fling. When the bristle came in contact with the angry red bumps, Susan went crazy. She loved the bristles because they momentarily soothed the itch, but then they would aggravate it all the more in concert with the gel that I continued to baste onto her sensitive parts with the little paint brush, making her cunt spasm and spit juice. And when he thrust tongue up and into her cunt hole, reaching up deep inside her, and the swipe of the bristle pad penetrated to the exposed expanse of her throbbing clit....I thought Susan would pass out. Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for her, she did not. Moreover, just as she would be ready to succumb to the awful sensations, I would pull Michael's cart away. Her cunt would throb, and drip, clench, and quiver, but her hardened clit could not get what it needed desperately. For his part, Michael's angry red wang was covered in the little bumps since I decided to baste his knob as well, waving helplessly and futilely...hoping that some hand or something would soothe it. I slipped on a little finger pad with the horse hair bristles on the end, and just lightly scratched the big, overwrought knob of the young man's fuck stick. That, and I alternated the wicked flexing anal probe that worked his prostate by playing with the dials on the console. Both their sexy feet curled and flexed, testifying to the sensations that were driving them. Their fingers scrabbled helplessly behind their backs. When Michael finally could not stand the tickling against his prostrate and over his tortured dick head anymore, his cock tip expanded obscenely allowing me a greater surface on which to twirl the maddening bristles. Then, after having brought him to this point several times for almost an hour, I kept the bristles whizzing on his circumcision scar and flange until he erupted with nine long, copious spurts of white spunk that squirted upwards because of the wicked curve of his cock. The first two bolts shot up and hit Susan's cunt, melding in with the juices that dripped non-stop from her cunny and back into Michael's own mouth. I used one hand to roll his pointy tits, and the let the wicked little bristles on the fingertips of my other hand continue to dance on his prick knob making his hips jerk wildly to void the awful sensitivity. Susan must have been sympatico with him, because the moment he shot scum she burst into a long series of orgasms from the scratching bristles. I couldn't keep track of how many times she came. She started immediately to contract her pussy muscles around the horrible bristles, and after ten, I just stopped counting and let the parade continue. She was young and horny, and her cunt betrayed her from the moment the bristles began to work their magic. As I later rolled Michael's dancing tongue away from Susan's cunt and turned off the dials, I could see that she had drenched his face, her legs, and the floor between her legs with a copious flow of cunt juice. I left Michael to his devices in the next room, the little probe up his butthole working now only on batteries, but still able to keep his attention and make his dick grow stiff again. But for Susan, I sat down in a chair in front of her, now using my little bristle pad finger glove to tweak and toy with her now freed tits, and to search out her exhausted clit for some final treatment. I just had to feel those cunt muscles grip my fingers a few times as I finger banged her for the fun of it. I took off her gag, and listened to the sweet music from her mouth: "Aaaaaaaaggggghhhhh....noooooo, nooo, please stop.....aaaaaaahhhhhh, my cunt, oh, no, not there....aaaaaaaagggghhhh.....stop, oh jesus, oh my god, oooooooohhhhh nnnnnoooooo....not again....not again....aaaaahhhhhhh....AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEE.....!" Over the next couple of days, those kids shot more juice than I thought humanly possible. I spent one night just alternately tickling their spread-eagled bodies and masturbating them until they basically passed out. But bless their sweet young hearts, they were ready by the next morning, after a shower and a good meal. By the end of the week, Michael was on his way to Brazil strapped into a cage, gagged, erect and dildoed for the journey. He pleaded through his gag, his eyes begging me not to betray our bargain, reflecting a wild eyed look of terror realizing that he was going somewhere other than back to the freeway I had promised. He was to live in the interior with a Brazilian couple that wanted a handsome and sexually insatiable young man for revels at their estate far from neighbors and authorities in the Amazon basin. There the special skills of the native people, and their special potions would raise the unsuspecting boy from Utah to a whole new level of sexual consciousness. Susan was bound in an "X" frame for a trip to Malaya. She was blinfolded, gagged, and dildoed both front and back for her journey. A Chinese plantation owner who had his own fascinating ideas about how to make young girls shoot their wad repeatedly had paid a pretty premium for her. He wanted her kept horny but unsatisfied for the five day journey so that when she arrived, he would be able to start with a "bang" so to speak. For my part, I was about to entertain a young twenty year old Marine from Corpus Christi whose family in North Carolina had not much contact with him, and a sweet young girl of eighteen who met him at the beach on a summer vacation fling with college girl friends. But that is the next chapter in my story about folks who have the itch and the ways I've learned to both satisfy their needs and wrest control of their lives.
The Itch: Part III, September 26, 1998 ----------------------- In response to a recent postive review, I am posting another chapter of my story "The Itch." In the previous installment, a young couple hitchhiking were kidnapped for sale to foreign buyers. They went through testing and training before transport. In the current story, Part III, another couple is kidnapped for sale. ----------------------- The Beach at Corpus Christi reveals so much succulent trash, that I have to limit the number of times I go there. Otherwise, I might get too daring and get myself fucked. There are so many hot and rootless boys and girls playing there, hoping to get into each other's pants, that for me the sensations are almost dizzying and the opportunities endless. But if I keep my wits about me, I can always get what I want, which after all is the whole purpose of the excursions. Corpus Christi is so close to the Marine training base, that much of the meat that I observed was lean, thick, stupid and big dicked. From all over America, bad boys, average jocks, blue collar hunks, and thick headed hayseeds converged to be turned into fighting machines that follow orders. That's just what I wanted, a young, big dicked, hard muscled boy whose intellect was arrested at the stage of "yes sir" and "no sir." On the beaches, with weekend passes, hard up Marines looked for cunt to drill and relieve their instinctual passions never realizing that much of the time they were the prey that was being stalked, both by women and by guys like me. For sure you could give a blow job to some drunk Marine who couldn't land a date in the john on the beach late at night...but the big oafs never realized that when they got their dickes sucked, they were auditioning for possibly bigger and better roles. When those cocks came through the glory hole in the dirty head, I'd take digital pics that were matched up with the ones of their faces caught as they came in or went out. And when I could reach through and tickle an asshole, or scratch a nipple, I made sure to note my findings in my data-base at home. Each of these boys whether I got to touch them or not, were ensuring that business would be good...and of course most were in search of sticky pussy, so the other half of my equation was always solved as well. The Marine I had selected for my current client was so clean cut, so fucking gorgeous, that I considered it a challenge to see if I could get him and the sweet meat that he had been fucking for the past two weeks. I learned through careful efforts, watching and making my contacts at the nearby base, that his name was Troy Emerson Taylor. He was 20, and out of Missouri where his mother and step-father were blue-collar folks just making a living to support five kids. He was the oldest by eight years from his mom's first marriage, and had left home right after high school looking for work. He bummed around for a year, working odd jobs from dishwasher to delivery man, and finally decided to join the military to support himself and to get out of crummy motels and long hours earning shit. He told his parents he was joining the Marines, but their correspondence had already been slim once he left home, and it dried up altogether after he'd been in the first year. There was no animosity, but the younger kids were taking all of his mother's time, and his step-dad had never been close. They assumed he'd be OK in the Marines, and he assumed he'd see them when he had the chance. Fuck, the Marines had worked him into a physical specimen. He had been transformed from the muscular, but slender kid who had left Missouri. Now he was 5'9" tall, blond with dark roots, and a body to die for. His narrow waist flared out to a firm, wide chest with two rasberry nipples pebbled and sensitive that poked out of the thick blond shag that encircled them on hard pecs that forced them to jut down towards his feet. His hair trailed back between those pecs, and darkened as it swirled in his bellybutton, then descended into his crotch. There a thick dark patch rested at the top of his dick root, and turned light again as it lightly forested the top of his low hanging nuts, big as duck eggs, the right one slightly higher than the left. His butt was a tight set of melon cheeks, covered with blond curls that gave way to a dark carpet that obscured his asshole. His firm thighs and big calves were blond furred, and his thick ankles were actually made to appear thin by his big, wide, high arched feet. They were pale, those size eleven feet, and on the tops of both, and each long, curved toe, was a patch of blond hair, except on the little one and its immediate next door neighbor. Jesus those feet were strong and muscled, veins showing all over the tops of 'em, and his heel was smooth and narrow. I figured those feet had played sports with wild abandon in his school years, and now trapped in hot, humid Marine boots, they were kept pale and tender from the rough, hard work that was demanded of them virtually every day. His arms were guns, with thick hairy forearms, and bulging biceps. He had the face of angel, and the mind of a sewer. Those bright blue eyes and that turned-up nose with dark eyebrows and dark roots at the base of his Marine hair cut, belied the horny cunt lapper that blushed a lot when he talked to girls. But what really made him a cunt man, was that pecker that lurked between his powerful legs. There was nine inches of gristle that flared in a hard curve from his balls upward when hard. But it was so heavy, and so thick, that as it got larger from his root to the oversized knob, it was prevented from aiming directly at his navel by the forces of gravity. The pisslips were deep and long, and his circumcision scar was sensitive and almost smooth from the stretching of his curved prong. Whenever he did wrap his hairy blond fist around that overwrought meat, he had to slide his fist up and around the curve in order to reach the prick tip, torquing his fingers over the ticklish dick lips quickly. He couldn't stand constant friction on his prick tip, it made him cum quick and tickled too much. Often he had to find ways to hide his dick when it got hard in his uniform, rubbing against the rough material when the knob poked out of the boxers. It always embarrassed him when others saw it hard, and they marveled at its length, width, and the size of the head. A Missouri Catholic boy who felt guilty every time he got a hard on, and only jerked his meat in desperation, Troy spent as much free time as possible trying to get laid. And that's how I found him with Cherry Tang. Her parents were immigrants from Malaysia, and she had left home in Arizona to work in Texas. After years of strict rules at home with her very Asian and old fashioned parents, she was now on her own as a nineteen year old without any overbearing restrictions to cramp her lust for handsome white boys, and with a romantic streak that would serve me well. She was 5' 3" of Asian delight. Her firm, conical tits were full, heavy, and curved up, with two dark cones on the end that looked like they needed to be twirled forever, and made her weak in the legs when they were sucked. Her waist narrowed nicely, then flared to a taut set of smooth asscheeks. When she was on her knees, legs spread, looking over her shoulder with that long, black hair and her tits jutting, her pussy pouch was a nice fat bulge, with what seemed like a constantly wet slit and an exposed clit at the top nicely framed by a small thatch of black hair. She was smooth, sexy and horny, a girl who loved a fuck finger in her snatch, tickling her constantly hard clit. Such a good combination in my business. Troy, I learned later, met her at a dance club. He often went on his own, without his buddies from the base, because he thought that they would hang around too much with each other. He was friendly, and shy, but determined to find a cunt he could shag. He had gone once with his buds across the border to Mexico to get laid in a cat house. But when things did not work out, and he was returning in the van they had rented, drunk and horny, he awoke to someone's mouth sliding up and down his steel hard shaft. There had been a finger tickling his hairy bung hole, and another rubbing back and forth over one of his tits hard against his silk shirt. He wanted to escape, he wanted to beat the shit out of whoever was queering him, but the mouth felt so good, and his cock ached so bad. He surrendered and let the voracious mouth vacuum his dick head until he squirted a gallon of sticky jizz down the cocksucker's throat, that damned insistent finger scratching and poking at his dank hole, and pinching at this tit. He didn't see in the dark who had sucked him, but he shied away from the guys recently, fearing that he might end up in that situation again. Every time he thought about that sucking mouth, his dick went rigid, and he feared that there was something he liked about it. Troy had met Cherry a week earlier. She had been at a dance club in Corpus with a group of girls, and the moment he saw her something clicked in him...especially his balls. The idea of having that sweet little Asian mouth wrapped around his dick knob, made him pant, and imagining her tight little cunt milking his prick put a stain on his briefs from his pre-scum. He only danced with her the first night, but the way she lowered her eyes and the kiss on the cheek he got, made him ask for her phone number and have blue balls for a week until he could see her again. The next weekend they met without her friends, and danced the night away early on. But later he'd driven her to an overlook above the freeway and when the clock struck twelve his finger found its way under her panties, the rough calloused tip gently sliding up and down her sticky trough. He finger banged her until she had cum three time around his rooting finger. Jesus, the way her cunt gripped his thick, blunt fuck digit and how she mewled and panted as he worked her hard little clit and thrust his tongue deep into her throat...yeah, this bitch was in need of his dick and he ached to prong her. She'd gotten up the courage to unzip his fly and when his huge, curved baby-maker forced its way out, her soft little hands tickled and squeezed it until it was sopping in his pre-fuck juices. When she squealed the last time he got her nut, he shot his wad, streams of cum spurting onto the dashboard and the floor of the car as her hand pulled away in fear. That night, back at the barracks in his bed, he'd planted his feet into the sheets, and spread his knees, kneading his fist up and down his still unrelieved joint. His eyes were closed and he muffled his own groans as his rough palm roiled up and down his jutting curve and torqued over the fat plum head. The thought of her mouth on his fat cudgel drove him to another huge, sticky ejaculation while around him his bunk mates slept off their own lucky nights or glory hole blow jobs. Troy couldn't wait to get Cherry into a bed so his hunky frame could pin her as he drove his fat prick in and out of her insatiable cunt. The night I got them, Troy and Cherry were in a motel off the highway, her legs thrust up to her chest and her painted toes pointed and taut. His tags bounced as he drove that nine inch cudgel up and down her greasy channel, moving his hips this way and that, and scraping her clit as the thick stalk reamed in and out. Jesus, he loved the way her cunt clasped his cock in a death grip, grinding her cunt muscles along its endless length to make him grunt and groan as he fucked her deep and steady, working himself to the explosion that he needed. They had only known each other two weeks, but he had learned that he could fuck her for almost an hour before he spat thick wads of scum up her trough, drenching her pussy walls. She loved it doggy style, she loved it standing up with her legs around his hips, she loved it missionary, she just loved it...and he wanted to oblige her as often as he could. He never went soft after a first cum, and could keep ploughing her for another hour, just to enjoy her whines of lust and screams when she came again, and again, squirting her tangy sauce over his well saturated prick meat. After following them around for the past week, and after casing him for almost a month, I knew this quiet motel out in the middle of nowhere was my best chance. They had come here twice before, because it was quick and easy after a night of dancing and drinks, quick enough to allow them as much time fucking as possible. I slipped into the room quietly using a passkey made just for these occasions. I worked silently and quickly as he fucked her with his eyes closed, drenched in sweat and breathing hard, both too lost in their passion with the television blaring and the windows open to cool down the hot summer night to notice a moment of extra noise from the street when I opened the door and slipped in. The bed stank of her cunt juice and his cum, but it was ambrosia and nectar to me. I moved swiftly to the bed, and without a hitch or a flinch, I stuck a small syringe into his powerfully flexed butt, and squirted enough relaxant to knock him out instantly. Cherry didn't even notice me when Troy collapsed on her, thinking that he had grown tired and was just taking a rest. She was just opening her eyes when I jabbed her in the arm. She made just a small squeak before she too was out like a light. I carefully packed their clothing into a bag I had brought with me, and put them one at a time in separate, large clothing duffels. Using a dolly, I plied them out the door, and placed them into the rear of my van which was parked with the rear doors facing their room. Dressed like a workman with a cap lowered over his eyes, and at 1:00 in the morning, no one was interested in what the fuck I was doing. Once they were in the back of the van and I had closed their room, turned off the lights and locked the door, I placed them still naked on their knees, with legs behind them, and tied each set of hands to the corresponding feet. Then I chained there feet apart to fixed bars on the floor so they could not move. I gagged them both, and blindfolded them, and placed a collar around each of their respective necks. Then I attached a chain from each neck to their respective bars. That way, their heads were pulled back. The Marines had just lost one of their finest AWOL, and Cherry's parents would search in vain for a few months for their wayward daughter. All in all, it was quick and easy. Now the fun began. I drove into my garage, under the house, and closed the garage door. Then after turning off the engine, I attached an electric outlet to the van, so that I could spend some time in the van with the lights on without wearing out the battery. There were no windows in the garage, and long ago I had made it sound proof. I crawled into the back of the van, and put a low bolster on the floor on which I could sit between my two new charges. I wanted to get a "feel" for the both of them, before I took them into the house. First I removed their gags, and then I began an investigation of their torsos, bulging from their bondage out to my prying fingers. Using my left hand, I took one of Cherry's coned nipples, and began a scratching, plucking, rolling of it. She gasped, and now groggy but awake, began to speak. "Ooooohhhh...Troy, Troy is that you...what are you doing...why do I feel so bad... Ooooohhhhhh...Troy...why am I tied up...pleeeaaaaseee, let me go, I don't understand... pleeaaaseee, let me go...uuuugggggghhh. In response, a simlarly groggy Troy answered helplessly. "Shit...Cherry...I'm in the same place you are...fuck, what is this...I'm tied up too, and I can't see shit...who the fuck has us, and what the fuck do you want?....Cherry, baby, you OK?...god damnit, lemme out this shit...what the fuck do you want?" I said nothing, but instead, continued to roll Cherry's titty, and let me right hand begin to explore the taut and bulging hairy inner thighs of my Marine. Cherry pipped up, now in slow realization and fear? "Ooooohhhh...Troy, whose playing with my breast, ...ooooooowwwwww noooooo, I don't know who it is....Oh, Troy, help me...I'm scared, Troy are you still there, I'm scared! But even as she spoke, I could see the sweet nectar of her pussy beginning to wet her cunt lips, and those fine succulent labia, beginning to spread and open in search of some touch. For his part, in spite of his predicament, my boy wonder was beginning to get a boner. "Cherry...it's not me...I don't know what's going on baby, just keep calm...com'on, who ever you are...just let us go...we aren't hurting you...we never did nothing to anybody, why don't you just let us go...why are you doing this?" Com'on man, or whoever you are...please, I'm asking real nice, we won't cause any trouble, just take whatever you want and let's us...Cherry, don't worry, they won't hurt...tell 'em whoever you are, tell her you won't hurt us...." At that moment, I let my left middle finger begin to tickle just inside the sticky, and now opened labia of Cherry's tight twat. Running my finger from bottom to just below her clit, I scratched and vibrated my insolent finger in her helpless cunny. Then with my other hand, I ran my index finger up under the big boys heavy, sweaty nuts, and began a tickling probe through the dense blond hair back to his hidden ass pucker. Jesus, you would've thought I had shot them both, they began to squeal for their lives! "Aaaaaahhhh, Troy, he's touching me...oh god no, Troy make him stop, he's touching me there, Oooooohhhhhh...nooooooooo, not there....aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh, he's touching me...aaaaggghhhh!" "Get your fucking finger outta my girl's pussy, and get your fucking fingers offa me too...god damnit, I'll kill you if I get my hands on you...comm'on, stop all this fucking around and let us go. We don't got any money, we can't give you anything. I got some of my pay saved in my bank account, if you let us go, I'll take it out and give it to ya! Just let us go, god damnit! Let us fuckin' go!" I couldn't help but laugh when he started yelling at me. And that seemed to shock them both into silence for a minute. So as I laughed, I slipped my finger all the way up her trough and began rubbing my fingertip against the walls of her now drenched pussy, and I tickled my finger just into his anus, gently breaching his portal when he was yelling and lost control of his clenching muscles. Now it was time for me to speak..."A cunt and a pissant...you two aren't going anywhere. You're my guests, and I have lots of visiting to do with you before you leave. I'm going to find out just how much cunt juice you can drip sweetheart, and boy wonder here seems to have a swollen prostate that needs to be massaged. I'm going find out just how much you two can cum, and then see if you can cum some more. What do you think?" At that point, Cherry began to cry, but her cunt dripped juice even faster, and began to clutch my finger, especially when I used my thumb to graze her now exposed and slutty clit that was jutting from its protective cover. And Troy's rammer, had gone bone hard, and was drippin' clear drops of pre-scum, which was falling in a long string from his pisslips to the floor of the van. Even as he yelled at me, and called out for help, and she blubbered, they were both turned on completely, and their bodies were beginning to sway and bounce on my dancing fingers. I continued to stroke Cherry's snatch in a way that finally turned her crying into moans and groans, and in spite of his yelling, my finger fuck of Troy's sweet shit hole, accompanied with my thumb rolling his big balls, and my mouth beginning to suck on his hardened, rubbery tits, was making him grunt and groan, as much as swear. Yeah, two pieces of fuck meat, slowly going up the ladder to cums they could not stop nor avoid. Within fifteen minutes, Cherry had stopped crying altogether, and her breathing had gone deep and her sighs loud and clear, especially when I rubbed her clit, or leaned over and sucked one of her now hard nipples. And Troy was grunting each time my finger rubbed past his solid fuck nut, making his dick flex, and causing more goo to drip from its wide piss lips. When I clamped my lips around one of his turgid nips, and gave it a slight nip, and used my finger to vibrated against his prostate, he gave us the ghost.."AAAAAGGGGHHHHH SHIT, YOU FUCKER, YOU'RE MAKIN' ME CUM...UUUUUGGGGHHHH FUCK YOU, YOU COCKSUCKING PRICK HEAD, AAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" And with that last gasp, he shot ten long streams of gism that hit Cherry's belly, and laved her pussy without my hand ever touching his dick stalk or head. That's when she gave it up too..."OOOOOHHHHHHH, OOOHHHHHHH NNNNNNOOOOOOO .....AAAAAAHHHHHHHH.....OOOOWWWWW, AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE, whimpering and screeching!" Then her cunt walls contracted, and she began to shoot out her owns steams of pussy juice, milking my finger in a reflexive act, unable to stop treating it like it was a dick doing its job deep up inside her, gently massaging her sweet spot while my thumb danced around the overwrought tip of her whorish clitty. As they gasped and dribbled the last of their ejaculations, I quickly inserted new gags into their respective mouths. First hers, since she was so pliable. I used a wiffle ball gag that let her breath, but prevented her from articulating anything but grunts and gasps. Then when he opened his mouth to yell at me once more, I slipped a slender penis gag into his mouth, and buckled it around his head. The little dildo had a vibrator, and turning it on to low, I let the thing begin to tingle and tickle his palate and buzz his teeth. He whined and groaned again, and immediately, the little fucker's dick began to rise, still slimy from his cum, but naturally inclined to respond to the treatment he was receiving and the unfamiliar stimulation his hunky body was experiencing. Similarly, when I slipped my finger into Cherry cunny one last time, she gripped me for all I was worth, and began to buck and twitch from the delicious sensation of my finger in her snatch again. Jesus, I love it when I pick 'em so good...two perfect specimens for me to enjoy before their ventures to foreign lands. I loosened latches in the floor of the van, and both of them were suddenly mobile, on little carts I had built into the vehicle. I could move them just as they were, with spreader bars, and chained on their knees. Now I was able to move them to my work rooms. I could rolled them down a ramp I had moved up to the back of the van, and took them as is, into one of my basement holding cells. Our night was just beginning, and I wanted to make sure that they were comfortable for all the pleasures I was about to enjoy. Using a bit of ether on each of them, I rendered them unconscious for a while so I could rearrange them. Tonight they would sleep, and in the morning I would awake them for my next examination. I only had two days with these two. I had made arrangements to have them picked up no later than Sunday. They were too prominent not to be missed...it's always that way with very beautiful people. So by Sunday they would be in transit to their new homes. But since I had all day Saturday to enjoy them, I was determined to do so. I lay them on their backs, and strapped them spread-eagled on beds in respective cells, without gags or blindfolds. There was nothing to see and they could scream to their hearts content. They would not even be able to hear one another, and they were in adjoining rooms. With their emotional and physical exhaustion, and a shot I gave each of them, they would be out until the morning. I washed them up completely, and used a neutralizing agent to give them a respective douche and enema, not wanting to cause any bodily harm. When I left them, they smelled sweet and clean, and looked like angels. I kissed each one good night on the lips, then showered and went to sleep. I wanted to jack off desperately, but I was saving my own jizz and my aching hardon for a special use the next morning. When Cherry awoke the next morning, she found herself on her hands and knees in a praying position. Her ass was up in the air, and her hair was tied up on top of her head. A spreader bar kept her legs well parted, and her arms were cinched up behind her back, and chained to the spreader bar so she couldn't move anywhere. She was blindfolded and had ear muffs that completely kept sound from reaching her ears. A collar on her neck had a chain running from it to her cinched arms, so she could not easily move her shoulders or torso. I had placed her on a low gurney that allowed me to roll her to any position I chose, and wheeled her into another room. I reached down between her legs, and used my left index finger to just tickle her labia, and search for her resting clitty. The moment I touched her she tensed, then she began to plead...but as she spoke, her cunt began to drip, helpless to stop the lust that caused her sweet nipples to harden reflexively. Her face rested sideways on the gurney pad, so she could speak. "Oooohhhhh, pleaaaaasssee...who ever you are....please. My parents have some money, I know they would pay you.... pleaaaassee aaaaaggggghhhhh, don't do that...oh, god, it feels so funny, so itchy when you do that....please, don't touch me there....aaaaaaaaaggggggghhhhhhhh....." The way her hips moved, I just fucking got off on her panting, rutting response to my insistent finger. "Now Cherry, why do you want to be so unfriendly? You didn't mind when Troy's big dick was rooting up inside that nice sticky cunny of yours, did you? So why do you want to give me such a hard time for putting my little, teeny finger in that hot hole, huh? You keep telling me to stop, but your titties are rock hard, and that clit of yours seems to search out the rough pad of my finger, begging to be petted and itched? Maybe you cunt is just a slutty little hole, and you're a good girl? But whatever, sweetheart, that little pussy of yours is holding on to me for dear life." By the time she got the last little 'uuuuuuuggggghhhhhh' out, I was giving her a gentle frig with my fuck finger, making sure to give her now hardend clit a good little workout. I made sure she didn't cum though, bringing her close and occasionally pinching her nipples gently so she was ready to blow...then slipping my finger out of her snatch or stopping my rooting up her hole. She showed her true colors then, making a desperate attempt to fuck the digit herself, moving her hips and getting as much finger as she could. I did this for 30 minutes, making sure she got her pussy in a lather, and both her legs and thighs were saturated with cunt drool, leaving her hot and bothered. The I rolled in her dream lover. He was on his knees, with his big, wide, pale feet hanging over the edge of his gurney. Like her he was kept in place with a spreader bar, collar and arms cinched and shackled. I wanted his big nuts, his dick, his navel and his nipples exposed, but his strong, pale ass up in the air...spread open for work. His asshole was a pink little knot, hiding in the forest of dark hair that was slightly damp from his masculine perspiration, but smelled like perfume to me. I had already taken him to the shitter when he woke up that morning, wiped him after I made him spread his legs so I could watch him crap, and then made him raise his legs up while I gave him a gentle enema to wash out his hole again. He had to lean back with his legs up to his chest while I slipped the little nozzle in his hole, and rubbed it back and forth over his prostate to his grunts. I also held his dick when he pee'd after he finished cleaning up, and when he got an erection, I waited until it went down enough to allow him to finish. I talked to him all the way through, telling him he was just a fucking punk kid who needed someone to hold his dick for him, and to wipe his butt, and I humiliated him and although his body language spoke of resistance and defiance, he followed every order I gave him while he was shackled, blindfolded and gagged. Nothing like playing with a straight, muscle stud while he's helpless and hard. Now, as he lay there, I gently used my index finger that had banged his girlfriend just moments ago, to tickle his sweet little anal portal, watching it flex and cringe at my insistent scratching. He tensed, but as if on command his half hard cock went rigid, hanging down in a heavy curve, its bloated knob already getting sticky with his pre-sap filling the wide piss lip well. I used the other finger to tickle his navel and tug on his rubbery male tits, making them hard and pebbled. Fuck, I liked the body on this boy...it was just the kind of stuff you wanted to come home and suck and fuck every night...the kind that lay sprawled across beds in fraternity houses and in bachelor apartments across America, often naked, many times with boners, and always horny. A body to die for, and one that would serve his new masters for years to come. I rolled Cherry's gurney up to Troy's. I put a bolster under her stomach, with openings on each side that allowed her breasts to hang down, and ran up to her neck and held her face aimed forwards comfortably. In this position, still blindfolded and unable to hear, I slipped a harness over her head. The stiff metal harness was firm on her scalp, and then buckled securely on with a strap under her chin to keep it in place. In the front, over her nose, was a rig that held a small, firm dildo that aimed straight out from her face. Her nose did not hit the base of the dildo because the frame of the rig kept it firmly away from her, and was effectively padded to cushion any movements that sent the casing back towards her. In essence, she looked like a human rhino with a penis for a horn. The dildo was slender, only about three-quarters of one inch in diameter, and gently curved like a real prick. But it was covered with stiff little bristles that filled it out to one inch. There were also randomly placed bumps and nodules that made it touch here and there wherever it was lodged. Plus, the randy little thing was a vibrator that could speed up and slow down, and occasionally gave a slight spin, one quarter, one half, or one full turn, first this way, then that without Cherry feeling the sensations against her face. Years of tinkering in my garage had produced this wonderful little device that had made many a pussy and an asshole jump from the sensation, then drip from its affects. Now my butch, blond, Marine stud was about to be introduced to its wonders. With his feet firmly shackled over the edge of the gurney, and the wheels in front and back locked down, I had him spread and ready for a good fucking from which he could not escape. He knew it was Cherry behind his butt hole, but she did not know it was him. His long, thick toes wiggled in anticipation, flexing and curling, but unable to move in their rigid yet padded binding. His hands scrabbled uselessly in the middle of his back, and he whimpered and whined even thought nothing had yet actually touched his precious fuck hole. I began to speak into a microphone that fed directly to her ear muffs, and which Troy could hear clearly every word. "Cherry, I'm gonna to bring a dog in from my kennel. He's got a long, wet, flexible tongue, which just loves to lick quim. I'm gonna baste your pussy, and especially your clit, with his favorite sauce. I've made it special, and while it won't affect the chemical balance in his mouth, it'll feel like Spanish Fly on and in your cunny. Then I'm gonna turn him loose on you. Now in front of you is a no count loser that I bummed off the county work farm. He's nobody you know, but he's supposed to be punished for his unrepentant ways, and I've been assigned to make him pay. I'm gonna give you a choice. You can have that dog lick your cunt until his tongue reaches all the way up inside you to your sweet spot, or you can use the little dildo horn I have attached to your head to give that prisoner the fuck of his life. Now I'm going to slip that dildo up his asshole, then I'm gonna give you one minute to begin your work. After, one minute, my dog Brutus gets his chance at your sweet snatch. You got it...tell me now...you understand what I saying to you?...that's it, nod your head and speak to me." She began to whimper, and then to plead. "Ooooh, please Mr....who ever you are...nnnoooo, pleaaaaseeee...don't make me do this....I don't know you or who this man is....I'm afraid...he'll be angry and he'll hurt me....pleeease...don't let the dog loose on me....I'm afraid of big dogs...no please don't do this..."and tears began to wet her blindfold. But I reassured her, while her boyfriend who could hear every word waited in helpless silence knowing exactly what I was about to do. He tried vainly to grunt through his gag, but there was nothing he could communicate to her, because her muff kept any sounds from reaching in from outside. "Don't worry Cherry, he won't hurt you. You don't think I'd bring a prisoner in here and let him get free? No way sweet heart. No...I won't let this mean little punk get near you. He's totally tied down. All you have to do is fuck him...and if you don't that the dog is gonna get his nice long tongue so far up your poon tang that you will think there's a little snake wriggling around deep up in there...." That must of persuaded her, because she let me guide the little furry penis head towards Troy's fine, rosy anus. I squirted some lubricant on the bristles, and then took a little squirt bottle and slipped its thin little nozzle up his hole in one quick, deft motion, then squeezed. He jumped like I had put a bee up his butt although the nozzle went in only an inch. But the real squirming was about to start, cause to tell the truth, that lubricant had a little irritant in it I got from Mexico that made the lining of your ass feel like there was a swarm of ants eating away. Shit, can you imagine, like when you've got one of those scratchy turds that rubs your rectum lining on its way out...well this was no "shit" (pardon the pun), but a sensation like a million little scratching, clawing mandibles working up inside you. Then with all deliberation, and as gently as humanly possible, I slowly began to screw that little dildo into Troy's powerful butt. Fuck, what a sight. That spasming, clenching hole resisting to the last moment, but the insanely tickling itch up his hole made him yield to the temporary soothing sensation of the bristles. Soon, I had the awful thing inserted up his fundament, and only then did he realize that I had coated the bristles with the same lubricant that I had squirted up into him. Moreover, the way the little gadget worked, I could push a button, and more of the stuff would shoot out and coat the inside of his hole while the buzzing demon was working insistently deep up inside him. Yeah! You should have seen Troy clench those powerful toes that hung over the edge of his gurney. He was hoping to squeeze that insanely fucking vibrator out of his shit hole, but Cherry was in no mood to back up. She had incentive to keep moving forward, and his name was Brutus, snuffling and barking behind her splayed thighs. Brutus was a fine German Shepard I had picked up across the border. He had been used in a brothel for his first four years to put on shows for wealthy patrons who liked to see teenage girls tied down and that long, eight inch tongue dance over their helpless quims, curling around clits and plunging down sticky holes. I bought him on one of my business trips, after watching a sixteen year old get eaten into five monster spends by the energetic canine. Now I gave him a once per week dose of his favorite desert, poon tang. Cherry did not have a clue. Whether she fucked the unknown boy whose ass loomed in front of her or not did not matter. Brutus was about to get his hair pie for the week, and this tasty little Asian bitch was going to give him a sweet syrup made up of the wicked stuff I squirted into her cunt and all along her ragged, puffy cunt lips, and doused over her protruding clit. Already the little red dots were appearing along the lips of her cunny, and I knew they extended up inside her as well. Her clit began to look like bees had stung it, making a pebbled hill where here smooth clit had once thrust up from its hiding place. Cherry began to sing for me, and that was the cue for Brutus to get into the act. "Aaaaaa, nnnnnnnoooooooooo....ooooooooooohhhhhhh.....wwwwhhhhhhaaaatttt, isssssss ttttthhhhaaat! Oh sweet jesus....oooooooooowwwwwww....mmmmmmyyyyyyy gggggggooooooooddddd! Help me! Oh help me! Someone help me! Aaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhh, it itches, oh stop it, make it stooooooopppppppppp it itches ssssssoooooooooo bbbbbbaaaaaaadddddd!" With that last whining squeal from Cherry's frantic voice, and her ass bouncing back and forth to make the itching that she could not scratch, stop, I let Brutus give her the magic tongue that would send her into orbit. Fuck you should have seen that hound chow down. His long snout pushed up to her oozing crack, and ground against her pulsing clit. At the same time, the long licker ploughed up and through her slot, slurping at the tangy sauce that seemed to cover her trough and weep continuously from it. For my part, I kept squirting the special sauce into her convulsing trench, making Brutus that much more determined to thrust his flexible tongue deep into her muscular hole, and up to and around her throbbing clit. Then with the sense of a homing pigeon, the dog's twisting, eight inch, mindless tongue torqued into the clenching nook of Cherry's cock-pit. I could imagine how her eyes, now covered with the blindfold, must have widened with the sensation of that wriggling muscle, plunging deep inside her, twisting and flicking the itching, dripping walls of her clasping pussy. But what was even better, and signaled Troy's undoing, was the shrieking wail that accompanied the dog's instinctual search for the girl's joy spot, deep up inside her cunt: "AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!....OH MY GOOOOODDDDD!!!,NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO....AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" Cherry's head thrust forward unexpectedly, and Troy who had been hoping against hope that she would move her head only slightly and allow him to avoid the worst of the thin bristle dildo, was suddenly forced into a gagged and uncontrolled screech: "AAAGGGHHHHHHH!!!" Cherry was moving her head back and forth, and as she did so, the wicked bristles brushed and scraped back and forth against the lining of Troy's unprepared rectum, and nudged his unprotected fuck nut. The bristles were not hard. To the contrary, they were maddening...firm, yet soft. With the lubricant inside his clenching bowels, making him itch furiously, the bristles were both a relief and an agony. Plus, the little bumps and ridges raked back and forth over his proud, male nut...reducing the tough Marine into a fucking whore, moving his own butt involuntarily to get more grinding and scratching against the horny button that made his cock drool and vibrate with lust. For my part, I used the index finger on one hand to scratch back and forth over one of Troy's firm, pebbled nipples while with the thumb and index finger of the other hand, I pinched and tugged on Cherry's coned nipples, making her respond even more excitedly to Brutus' relentless tonguing. But I had one more surprise for Troy. Not only was his girl giving him the fuck of his life, and he wasn't able to let her know about it, but I was about to add a touch to his experience that would give him a sense of how life was going to be for the next few years. I pushed a button on the console near the gurneys, and a panel on the nearby wall slid open. Suddenly from behind that panel came six cats, one callico, one white, one black, and three black and whites. They rushed toward Troy's gurney, totally ignoring both Brutus and Cherry. They were accustomed to Brutus, but they avoided Cherry because the sauce I prepared for Brutus' meal in the girl's drooling cunt was not the same 'cat nip' that I had prepared for Troy's big, hanging nuts, his oversized pecker, and the big, wide, soft soles of his feet. While Brutus had been warming up Cherry, I had been using a small paint brush to baste Troy's big cock, especially the oversized, fat knob, his hanging, starchy nuts, and every nook and cranny of his handsome, athletic feet, with a brew just made for my cats. Without any hesitation, one went straight for his big prick tip, slurping its rough, scratchy tongue over the constantly flexing knob. The rough cat tongue was more like a brush, but with a soft, flexible and unpredictable motion. Another went after his big nuts, banging its head into them, and rubbing its face and tonguing them this way and that. But each of his athletic feet drew the attention of two cats. One cat each went for the wriggling, flexing toes of each foot, flicking desperately trying to make the tickling, rough tongues leave the unprotected pinkies from being mauled. At the same time, two other cats were focused on each of the wide soles, and their high arches, licking and occasionally pawing the muscular feet with their sharp kitty talons. My tough Marine went hysterical. He cried and laughed, wailed and pleaded from behind his gag. "nnnnnnnnnnnggggggggg.....uuuuuppppppppphhhhhh...aaaaaaaggggggghhhhh....iiiiieee eeee.... aaaaaahhhhahahahhahhhhhhhahhhahahahahhah...." The sensations up his bowels and emanating from his very ticklish feet were more than most people could imagine, but the rough tongue swabbing his horny pecker, moving all round the pulsing knob without staying long enough to give satisfaction, giving it enough attention to drive him up the all, but not enough to cum...this was the kind of work that ole Troy was going to get for a long time to come. For her part, Cherry was lost. Brutus had shoved his snout hard against her pubic bone, and his wet nose rubbed maddeningly back and forth over her bursting clit. His sticky, wet muzzle was opened against the ragged cunt lips, and his tongue was slithering up and down her clinging trench, touching every part of her horny box. Here was a gal who could not get enough tongue to soothe the sweet itch up her cunny, and this instinctive animal was willing to lick her to oblivion. And as she writhed in exquisite rolling orgasms, her bobbing head sent her over stimulated boyfriend over the edge. Without any warning, except the bucking of his ass and the grinding of his butt against the disorganized thrusting and movement of Cherry's nasty responses to the wicked canine licker tantilizing her rutting quim, Troy's body went rigid. His cock suddenly expanded, its nine thick inches turning to steel, and the skin stretching over its bloated tip, widening and expanding the surface for the cat's scratchy tongue. He was helpless, being licked and fucked to the kind of giant ejaculation that he once enjoyed with girls kneeling between his strong legs, worshipping his totem pole with their hot, tight little mouths. The pisslips opened, and bolts of thick white spooge spewed from the deep well, coating the cat, shooting up to Troy's chest, and covering the surface of the gurney. Like the animal he was, he shot and shot, his asshole gripping convulsively around the rotating, churning bristle dildo, wrenching even more scum from the depths of his big boy balls. Ahh fucking shit, I just love to watch hard boys squeal in joy as their buzzers go off, and they purge themselves of enough sperm to populate a small town, their fuck poles being milked into submission. Troy's hands clenched and opened, his long toes curled shut and his soles crinkled one long, last time, and his butt roiled as his rectum gripped the buzzing intruder deep up him. Then after ten long streams of boy slime, the shots were not reduced to drooling dregs; Troy had released his resistance and surrendered his body to me, and I was master of that big fuck rod. Behind him, Cherry was mewling, working her round ass any way she could to keep Brutus' lovely tongue rasping her clit and siphoning out as much cunt juice as the little bitch could squirt. The more his tongue skewered her cunt, the more she spurted her slimy pussy juice, feeding his insatiable taste for quim sauce. I gently moved her gurney away from Troy's, releasing the wheel stops, and allowing the dildo now completely soaked with lubricant and the boy's ass juices, to plop out of his hungry, gripping hole. I spoke to the entranced girl as I moved her: "Good work Cherry, you gave that bad boy just what he needed, a fucking that he won't soon forget. Now I can send him on his way to the penal colony and he'll be much more cooperative." But Cherry could hardly hear me. Brutus had followed Cherry's gurney, and was still laving the split crevice, wrenching more cunt stink into his eager mouth as her hips continued to dance uncontrollably. For his part, Troy was so exhausted he didn't react to my words. In fact, I know had broken his defiant spirit. He was a fuck toy ready to be shipped to his new playmates. Cherry had always been one, and I almost thought I would hook her to a electronic, vibrating dildo all the way to her new home just to keep her happy. My last fling that afternoon, before the two were shipped out, found shackled on his back on a plastic covered bed. I had his knees bent to his chest, with a spreader bar under them, and his ankles tethered apart with his lovely, pale, big boy feet exposed. He had a ball stretcher on that keep his big nuts pulled down and spread apart, and his every ready dick was hard again, with drops of clear slime filling the piss well. Over him, on her knees, with her arms cinched and her legs tethered apart, was Cherry. She was supported by a sling that kept her cunt just over Troy's mouth. "Now Troy, get that tongue up in Cherry's spice pot. That's what your tongue is going to be doing for a long time to cum, licking out quim. So let's see how you match up with Brutus? What'ya say Troy, can you give your girl some tongue. His nostrils seemed to flair with the smell of pussy, and like a good boy, he reached his own muscular licker up and lodged it between the wet, split peach of Cherry's tangy hole. But what a surprise! As he slurped out cunt juice, along with it came wads of thick gism. I had fucked Cherry twice on her back, using my own blunt headed crowbar to make her cum three or four times before I filled her with two healthy loads of stored scum. Now Troy was getting the privilege of tasting sperm, and he'd need to acquire the taste, cause lots of the cunts he'd be licking in months to cum would be filled with the starchy stuff. Shit-Fuck, the thought of his big Marine laving cunts sprayed full of other men's slime made me go hard. I'd have to get some video of that from my client...a little perk for my acquisition of a superb boy to meet his wife's twisted tastes. Troy tried to turn his head away and began to plead: "Aw fuck, naw man...not this, I'm not fucking queer...shit....please, don't make me do this...aw fuck, it's drippin' on my face...no, man, please....nnnnnooooooooo...." But I reminded him of his duty: "Work that Marine tongue Tory, or I'll roast these big nuts of yours, and serve them to Brutus for dinner..." and I laughed as I used a little electric hand wand on his balls for a brief moment to get his attention and remind him that he belonged to me. His tongue danced back to its work, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed my swill and Cherry's gravy, grunting from the strange new taste as he worked. I slipped my mouth over the toes one of his securely tied feet, sucking the big muscular digits and tickling them with my tongue. His cock went rigid from the sensation, so I slipped it into my fist. The neat thing was that I was wearing a glove coated with soft bristles, and so as I sucked his studly toes, and used the other hand to tickle the exposed mouth of his anus, he reflexively fucked my fist, torquing his traitorous cock back and forth against the bristles. His own pre-cum lubed my fist, and soon Tory was pistoning that randy, mindless pecker back and forth to get just enough fist to help he shoot his sap. When he came his toes wriggling in my mouth and his tongue lapping frantically against Cherry's pussy lips, slurping her rainy dew into his mouth, I closed my fist around the bloated knob and squeezed and rotated my palm until he cried out and begged me to stop: "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh.....nnnnnnoooooooooooo...not my dick head....no, STOP IT!.... aaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, please mister...please....I'm doing what you said.....aaaaagggghhhh... GOD DAMN FUCKING SHIT....oooooohhhh jeeeeeeezus.....please ....not my cock head....you're killin' me....oooooooohhhhhhh fuck, you're KILLIN' ME!" Cherry could hear Troy, but her gag prevented her from saying anything to him. She just rolled her hips and grunted as his tongue now left her straining pussy alone and deprived her of the sensations that she was addicted to. I held his dick up and used the glove on his glans for about five more minutes, intermittently, making sure that he didn't pass out, and didn't so soft. I fucking love to hear boys talk dirty and beg at the same time. Later, after they were cleaned and prepared for their respective journeys I kissed each of them good bye as their wide eyes and gagged mouths appealed to me one last time. I had managed to hook Cherry up to a randomly programmed little pussy prod that would occasionally buzz her cunt, and tickle her clit. She'd be ready to fuck a horse when she arrived, though the extent of her animal acts would be limited to the searching tongues of cats and dogs. As for Troy, he had his own little anal dildo that worked like Cherry's, so his big boy pecker would be up and stiff most of the time. His nuts would be ready to be drained when he arrived. In two or three years, they would both be back in the United States, showing up suddenly to families that would be shocked and surprised. But from now on, they would be sex slaves to whomever discovered their secrets; they both had that uncontrollable itch that made them so fine to suck and fuck. As the truck drove away with them in their large shipping crates, I walked back into my study. Time to look at my photo files and find the next two candidates on my list. I couldn't keep my clients waiting.
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