Carson stood in front of me, a tablespoon with my own cum on it, trying to make me swallow it. I stood on a bench in Larry's living room, my legs tied wide apart and my wrists held at each end of a rod across my shoulders that was hooked to the ceiling. This 13-year-old kid thought he could make me do whatever he wanted. His buddy Taylor stood beside him.
"Come on, Jason, open up wide now. Get it while it's hot."
Taylor added with a smirk, "And there's more of that stuff on Carson that we need to get in you too."
I shook my head and turned it as far to the side as I could. "Never, you little pricks. That's something I'll never do."
"OK then. You'll be sorry. Hey Taylor, go behind him and pull out another bead."
"No!" I shouted. But Taylor was already behind me now. I glared into Carson's smiling face. Then I felt Taylor begin to pull on the chain.
I shuddered and convulsed and thought my whole insides were coming out back. It felt like something the size of a baseball was being pulled out my ass. All the beads in the chain moved down a little as it was pulled, and the glow heated my prostate and my whole ass track beyond belief. My dick bounced and immediately got hard again, and my balls started churning. I surged with the most powerful sexual charge I could ever imagine. I couldn't believe that although I had just shot off, I was suddenly this sexually charged again.
Both guys were laughing. Carson still held the spoon. He looked at my dick, which actually still had a drop or two of cum at the tip even though Taylor had cleared the channel.
"Well we can add those drops of cum to the spoon too," he said, and reaching down held the spoon there while his fingers squeezed the last drops out. I shook from the charge of his fingers on my dick. It was so erotic I couldn't stand it. My dick was at full height again, begging to be worked.
Carson put the spoon back in front of my lips. "Open wide. We don't have all day. Or do you want another bead pulled?"
I shook my head in despair and opened my mouth. The spoon came in. At first I didn't do anything. Then Carson tiled it to get the cum to run out. I felt the stuff in my mouth and couldn't believe I was doing this.
"Go ahead, swallow it. All of it."
I shuddered again and did what he said. I gagged, but managed to swallow it all. Then he turned the spoon upside down in my mouth and said, "Lick the spoon. Don't let any go to waste."
Feeling Taylor's hands on my butt again, I did what Carson wanted. I couldn't believe all this was happening to me. Carson then took the spoon, after he was sure I had swallowed it all, and began scraping the cum off his face and hair and putting it on the spoon.
"You sure shoot off a lot when you shoot" he said.
Taylor had come around to watch. "With balls as big as his, I'm not surprised."
Carson had gotten just about all of the cum now. The spoon seemed almost full again.
"Here we go, Jason. Wrap your lips around the spoon and suck it in good."
The word 'suck' made Taylor giggle. As he watched me take the dose of cum, he giggled more. "He sucks good."
Again I had to swallow it all and lick the spoon. It was thick and cold and goopy now. I shook myself to gain some self control.
Taylor said, "Hey did you notice that every time he shakes himself, his dick bounces up and down? That's kinda cool."
Carson had put the spoon down and had his notebook out again. "I've got some more questions to ask you."
"Can I measure his dick now?" Taylor asked. It struck me that Taylor was entirely too eager about these things.
"Oh well, go ahead. And write down the measurements in here" he said, handing him the notebook.
Taylor took the tape measure and measured the length of my dick, then the circumference, and finally the size of my balls, which were getting full again. He wrote them down and returned the notebook to Carson. Carson glanced at the measurements and grinned.
"Great work, Taylor! Can't wait to tell everybody his 'stats.'" They both laughed.
Then Taylor as an afterthought, but with a happy gleam in his eyes, reached up and took the head of my dick in his fingers, with the thumb underneath where he could secretly massage without Carson noticing, and pulled the whole bone down. With a final quick massage he let go, and it popped up against my stomach with a slapping sound.
"That's a great sound - sort of squishy." Actually it was the precum starting up again. And I could feel the heat from my balls at work. Plus the fact that those damned beads never left me alone. My body was getting slightly sweaty, sort of oily. Particularly my dick and balls. I decided I better make my move.
"Listen you guys! You may think you can do what you want to me now, but when I'm free I'm going to find you and I'm going to strip you, and I'm going to poke my middle finger up your asses and wiggle it until you go crazy. Then I'm going to tie you to the fence by the athletic field where everybody can see you."
Oddly enough, that didn't bother them at all. I wondered why until Carson explained, "When we finish with you, we will have done so much to you, stuff we could tell everybody about, that I don't think you'll ever even want to see our faces again."
For a moment I remembered Norton running out earlier with the video camera and today's tape in it, and then I had another awful thought. The tape Woody had been showing Larry was still sitting in the VCR. It looked like everybody was out to get me. I had never had so much bad luck in so short a time in my life.
Carson must have thought my silence was acceptance so he went back to his list of questions. "How long does it take you to beat off?"
"Depends," I said.
Taylor took my dick in his fingers again and pulled it down. "That's not an answer," he said. He gave a twirling motion with the head and let go. It slapped noisily against my stomach.
"I don't time it. I don't look at the clock."
Taylor reached for my dick again.
"Why are you guys asking stuff like this? Are you just little perverts?'
Carson answered. "Listen, we're not the one with his pubes shaved, his dick marked on, and a chain of marbles up his ass."
"Right" Taylor chimed in. "And we're not the ones so horned his voice gets husky every time we touch his dick. We're not the ones with dicks dripping stuff constantly." He grasped the tip of my dick and slid his fingers all the way down the bone to my nuts. I trembled with the feeling, and hated myself for my reaction.
"You're really up for this, aren't you?" Taylor asked.
Carson went back to his list. "I'll try again. How long does it take you to shoot off?"
"I don't know how to answer that. You know how it is.
Sometimes quick and sometimes not so quick."
"Then tell me the average," and he paused a moment as if thinking, then grinned and went on "and the longest time and the shortest."
"I don't know exactly. Why do you want to know?"
"Pull a bead, Taylor."
"NO!" I reacted so violently that they both were startled. I was shaking, struggling to get loose or at least do something to get free, and consequently my dick was slapping and bouncing everywhere, spewing precum wetly in all directions. For a moment they actually stood in awe.
Then Carson asked, "What do you do when you want to make it last?"
"Go slow. Stop and start. Things like that."
"So how long can you make it last?"
"I don't know."
Carson sighed. "OK then, let's try working yours and see how long we can make you go before you shoot."
I shook my head, but Carson was already standing beneath me, reaching up for my dick.
"I get to do that" Taylor objected.
Carson sounded disappointed. "OK, you can go ahead. But we need to find a clock so we can time it. See if there's one in the bedroom."
"No!" I said quickly, remembering the two bottles of Larry's with the hot stuff and remedy that were in the open drawer in there.
Carson was quick to figure out something was going on.
"You mean there's something in there for us to find?"
Looking around wildly, and dripping precum all over the place, I saw an electric clock on the TV.
"No. It's that there's an electric clock here that has a second hand, so you can keep an accurate count that an alarm clock might not do."
Taylor said, "I can see it from here. Shall I start now?"
"Jason, before he starts, do you want to go for speed or distance, the shortest time or the longest?"
I gritted my teeth. "Shortest" I said.
"Oh heck" said Taylor, "it'll be over too soon. That wouldn't be much fun."
"Don't worry, Taylor. After we do it for speed, we can do it for longest time."
"No way! You guys are nuts!"
Taylor reached up and touched my balls. "No, we're not nuts. These are nuts, and they're yours. We're just your little friends, helping you to have a very happy time."
With that he reached up and wrapped his hand around my dick. Instantly I tensed and then bucked as he gave stroke after stroke, pumping up and down my shaft while I rode his hand. My butt and pelvis thrust back and forth with the strokes.
"Look at him go!" Carson cried. "Work that thing, Taylor, make him ride it fast!"
I was sweaty, my abdomen was sticky with precum which was sloshing out with every stroke, his hand was so slick it looked like he had lard on it, and my balls were generating like mad.
As he pumped away, Taylor said, "I think he's getting ready to cum!"
I had my head thrown back, my butt clenched against the beads, and my dick muscles starting to take over on their own. Carson grabbed the spoon and stood in front.
"Not again" I said.
"Oh yes. Get ready to give us your donation. It's for a good cause."
I determined that whenever I got out of here, I would make that kid pay for all this.
"He's cuming!" Taylor said. And true to form, I shot.
I was surprised it was as much as it was, because it hadn't been that long since I had shot that massive load. But Taylor's hand worked magic. He milked all of it onto the spoon. Carson raised the spoon to my mouth.
Suddenly there was someone in the doorway, someone who said, "Well, well, Jason, are you still hanging around here? I thought you would have dressed and gone home by now."
It was Woody. He came in grinning. Carson stood frozen, the spoon still held near my face. Taylor was wide-eyed. He also began trying to wipe all the moisture and slick stuff off his hands as if he was getting rid of evidence.
Woody came over. "Are you the two guys Butch talked to?"
They nodded and Woody laughed. "I've never seen anyone get Jason this good. He's always trying to get people, but this is the best 'getting' yet."
They told him what they had been doing to me. As he listened, Woody's eyes shown, and his dick practically tried to jump out of his pants. With each new thing they told him, that dick would push again his trousers, as if Woody was squeezing his butt tight to get the best feeling.
When they finished, he said "That's great. You want to go ahead and give him his cum now? I've waited a long time to see a sight like that. The great Jason being forced to eat his own cum."
In that moment, I decided I would get Woody too when this was over. "Hey Woody, cut me loose. I need to go. Where are the others?'
Woody seemed surprised when I reminded him of the others, as if the sight of me and all this had made him forget.
"Yeah, there's big news. But swallow your cum first so none of it drips out."
Taylor went behind me and I felt his hands on my butt, rubbing and sliding them and getting near the beads. My balls felt emptied, my dick was going down, and I decided what the hell, I wasn't going to open my mouth. Let him pull another bead if he wanted to.
I shook my head. Carson barked out a command. "Taylor, now!"
Another bead came out, and just like before I spasmed, I felt like my whole ass had suddenly jumped out of my hole, and my dick jumped to attention. My balls got the message and started manufacturing cum again. Damn! Worst of all, in the confusion I had opened my mouth, and the spoon was now depositing the cum.
"I should have brought my camera" Woody said. "The look on your face when they pulled the bead out, and then the look when you swallow the cum, would be worth a lifetime of memories to me."
"Woody, why are you doing this? What did I ever do to you?"
"What did you ever do to me? You were one of the chief ones who would point at my bone and call everybody's attention to it. If I had to take a crap during lunch, you'd follow me to the bathroom and hold the stall door open and tell everybody coming in to come see Woody's woodie. You did things that I swore I would get even with you for. And you were the one who got the others to help you strip me behind the gym to see if my bone would ever go down. And you were the one who made me shoot off. And then you told the other guys to hold me to see if the bone would go down. And while they did that, you ran off in the gym with my clothes."
I guess I sort of remembered all that. But at the time it had seemed different than what he made it seem.
"Woody, I'm sorry. Truly I am."
"Well it's a little late for that now, isn't it?"
Taylor and Carson had gone off to the side. At first I thought they were giving us some privacy, but then I realized they were looking at my dick in profile, and whispering to each other.
"Woody, what happened to the others?"
"Oh them. Well, it seems Norton had another business on the side, selling drugs. I don't think Butch knew about it, but anyway when we got there the Drug Squad had searched the place and had arrested Norton as soon as he walked in. But what's hilarious is that Larry burst in ahead of Norton, and they tried to arrest him. He couldn't admit he had come to steal an incriminating tape of himself, so he was heming and hawing about why he was there. And the more he beat around the bush, the more suspicious he made himself look. Finally the cops took them all down to the station to sort things out."
"What about Kevin?"
"He won't have anything to worry about. It was obvious to everybody that he didn't have any connection to anything except that he's Butch's younger brother. He'll be the first one they let go, once they get everybody's names."
"Why didn't they take you along too?"
Woody really grinned then. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his press card. "Even if I'm only a trainee at the station, I was given this card. I told them I was working on a story. They said if they needed to ask anything, they'd get back in touch."
It took me a minute to take all that in. Then I said, "Well, Woody what do we do now?"
"'We'? I'd say what do these two guys and myself do now. You don't have much say in the matter." Turning to them, he asked "What else did you guys want to do to him?"
Carson immediately started his thing about length of time in beating off. Woody listened intently. Finally he said:
"Jason, I'll make you a deal. Let's have a sort of game or contest, and if you win I promise I'll cut you free and we'll all go home."
I was suspicious. "What kind of game?"
Woody took the two little guys aside, whispered to them, and they exploded in laughter. Then he came to me. "If you can guess the number of strokes it will take for us to make you shoot off, say within 20 strokes say or maybe even 30, we'll let you go."
"What do you mean? How can somebody know how many strokes?"
"Well Jason, you've been beating off since you were what, about 12? That gives you almost seven years experience. So you pick a number you think is fair, and if you shoot off within 20 strokes of that, you win. But if you shoot at least 20 strokes below that number, you lose. And if you go more than 20 over that number you loose."
"What if I cum too soon or too late and loose?"
"That's the beauty of it, Jason. We just let you pick a new number and we start the whole process all over again."
(End of Part 9) ---------------------------- Thanks for the feedback, guys. - Bart