This story is (C)Copyright 2005, by TM. All World Wide Rights Reserved. This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.
SAIL AWAY CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
My mind was a mess, my body was even worse (I think); as I began to wake from
what was a deep sleep. I couldn't see clearly at all, and I just knew that I
wasn't in the same position, now, that I'd been placed in to sleep.
I didn't, or couldn't, hear any noise from any of the other slaves. My body felt strange, yet comfortable. I could make out that my head, shoulders and arms were in contact with a human. I could identify the smell of a human. For what it was worth, at the time, I could only think that I was in the arms and loving care of my mom. Had everything up until now been no more than a bad dream or nightmare?
I was able to move my head, barely; and when I turned it, my face came in contact with a human. The smell was becoming clearing with each passing second. The smell was that of a man; meaning that I could smell his sweat and even a faint odor of piss.
I wiggled the fingers on one of my hands and felt the same contact as my face. I tried to move one of my legs, in an attempt to take the pressure off of my nuts, which were trapped deep in between my upper, inner thighs. Again, more contact with this human form. I tried, hard as I might, but still my eyes couldn't or wouldn't focus; as everything seemed to still be pitch black.
There just wasn't any way that they'd done something to me while I was sleeping; but how can I now be in such a precarious position. I had to admit to myself, that at least this position was a heck of a lot better than falling asleep while I was kneeling on the floor.
It was still unnervingly quiet in the whole cellblock. I tried once again to get some light into my eyes but failed. I wasn't scared, nor was I nervous. I'd have said that I was more apprehensive. But then my whole world came to life, as unexpectedly as had most of my other mornings lately.
I felt a hand, then another hand touch my exposed skin. No noise, no words, no nothing to accompany the two hands which were now ever so softly trying to tell me that everything was going to be okay. One hand gently ran over my head, while the other one soothed away the soreness and stiffness in my legs. I felt something moist touching the top of my head. It didn't last long, nor did it appear to have even startled me. I could only relax and allow the person to use me as he desired. I, for some reason, woke this day; resolved that there was nothing I could do at this point, to fend off these perverts and their scheme to train me as a sex slave. I know that deep inside my soul, that one day I would come to regret this decision; that I had so unwillingly made. I had no idea why or how I'd come to have such a defeatist attitude.
My thighs began to feel better, but they would have been feeling great if they still weren't connected to my ankles. I don't see why they left me bound in such a way; unless this is something my master wanted, but then that haunting demon entered my mind, searing it with the image of my father.
My mouth was extremely dry, like the desert; and I could easily tell that the
new large ball in my tongue wasn't helping matters any. I began to feel the pulsing of blood as it coursed its way through my now mangled cock. I wanted to look at my cock and see what it looked like, but I still was unable to see
anything or anyone. I could only muster up an image of my dick, pierced now three times; probably swollen down the whole length of the shaft, perhaps even black and blue. I wondered why I didn't find myself with my 'normal' morning urge to empty my bladder.
I was enamored by the hands touching me. Between the two hands, the softness of the body beneath my head offering me support and the scent of a human was one hell of a way to start the day. I knew this was a dream, of sorts; yet one without a need, desire or want for it to end any time soon.
"Easy baby", came a voice into my ear. "You've had a bad night, but I'm here with you now, so don't be scared." I struggled to determine who was whispering in my ear. It was a man, that much I know, so that assured me that I wasn't
dreaming or thinking that I was in the arms of my mom.
"The doctor gave you a powerful sedative and sometimes it will mess with your
brain and other parts of your body. Everyone is still asleep, so please don't try and talk or move. Just don't be afraid, I'm here now with you and for you. We will get through this together, just you and me."
The recognition of Jordan's voice finally registered in my fucked up brain. I
tried to move my leg, but couldn't. I tried to move my arms but couldn't. I could only move my head, ever so slightly. Whatever was in that pill sure was
doing a number on my body as well as my brain.
The moist feeling on my head returned, and I recognized it to be a kiss from Jordan. I turned my head, to what I thought may have been toward Jordan. From
just the few days I'd spent on the ship with him, the closeness we had shared; I recognized the scent of his pubic region. I took as deep a breath as I possibly could and relaxed just knowing that Jordan's two arms were protecting
me.
Jordan continued to massage any part of my body that he could reach. When he used the back of his hand to sooth my face, I knew then that there was something terribly wrong going on in my head. I inhaled again, sucking in every ounce of his scent as I could. This isn't me doing this. This isn't me feeling this way, at least not towards another man, for God's sake.
"You were crying in your sleep, so I got off the cot and pulled you onto me. Geez, nothing like dead weight for the whole night, resting in my lap. Here, let me see if I can get your snout ring out of the way so you can breathe easier."
No sooner had Jordan moved the ring out of the way, my nose was resting directly on his beautiful cock. That's where his manly scent was coming from, I guess. It took a minute or two to figure out where my face was in relation to his cock. Jordan's newly pierced cockhead was only a fraction of an inch from my lips. He began to stroke, to massage, the one closest butt cheek of mine. From there he began to softly run one of his fingers over my grotesquely bound nuts. The sensation was titillating, not to mention comforting. It would have been better though, had it been one of the girls that I'd gotten once or twice to lick and suck on my hairy nut sack.
Jordan must have sensed my apprehension, as he whispered "easy baby, I'm here, I'll take care of you." He continued to work every inch of my body that was
within his reach. I could tell that he'd found the base of the plug which was up my asshole. He tapped it several times, letting me know that he had discovered it. "One day baby, it will be just you and me, and you won't need a plug up your ass. Nothing but your Jordan's cock in there, pumping his manseed into you."
Jordan moved his hand away from my useless nuts and ass; beginning once again to rub the stiffness out of my back muscles. His other hand, he'd placed lightly on the back of my head. "Go ahead baby; you know that you want to. It's just you and me and we're all alone baby. Go ahead, open your mouth and get your tongue to just touch my manhood, baby boy. It will be our 'special moment' together."
A little more pressure applied by Jordan and my lips were now touching his cock. It seemed so perverse. Jordan continued his coaxing, until I relented and opened my mouth ever so slightly. My tongue felt the smooth steel ring that they'd implanted into his cockhead. Jordan wiggled his hips a fraction and my tongue was now touching his piss slit. It was warm and soft. There was no obnoxious odor or taste. It took everything I had, to keep my tongue there. Jordan was pleasingly relentless with his words.
It was only a matter of a few minutes and Jordan removed his hand from my head; using it to pull his own dick out of the way; which presented me with yet another circumstance beyond everything that I'd grown up to respect but not like. "Keep your tongue out baby, just a little more now. That's it baby."
I'm not a rocket scientist, but I didn't need to be one to know that my tongue was now touching his nuts. "Go ahead baby", he chided, "keep your tongue out and move it around a little. Feel how much of my seed is waiting for you baby."
His words seemed rather disgusting at first. How could he think that I wanted to eat his dicksnot? But, out of thanks for his kindness, I followed along; and licked his soft, hairless ballsack. He managed, some how, to feed me one of his balls as it plopped past my lips. I could feel my tongue piercing rubbing up against it, as I slowly began to apply a rather crude and novice way of sucking on it carefully. His remaining ball was pressing relentlessly against my closed lips; begging for service. He coached me through another 'lesson', as I did my best to work both of his nuts, equally, with my tongue. I was amazed that I was beginning to loose my inhibitions towards man to man sexually contact. But on the other hand, how can men combine torturous actions and intimate sexual passions in the same manner, with the same individual, so that one or both parties achieve some distinct primal pleasure.
Jordan moved closer to my ear, whispering nothing but sexual innuendos; interspersed with him sticking his tongue into my ear and driving me absolutely insane; with such a high degree eroticism, that would soon change my life, my way of thinking forever.
He slowly withdrew his nuts from my mouth. He reached for my left hand, which he placed around his hardening penis. I shook with a degree of mistrust, degradation and excitement all rolled into one. He coached me, using his hand on
top of my hand, to slowly and firmly stroke his dick. I thought for a minute
that I could actually feel his pulse just by holding his cock.
As I stroked his manhood, he positioned my head so that my lips were touching
his cock head. I don't know why but I began to voluntarily lick his slit. I got a strange taste on my tongue, but it wasn't piss. I didn't taste bad at all, come to think of it.
"Now baby, daddy's going to cum ", he whispered with a degree of certainty, "I don't want you to put my manstick in your mouth. All you have to do is keep your mouth open and your tongue out and daddy will do all the work, baby."
Jordan's voice sounded so trustworthy, so domineering. I couldn't find fault with anything he was saying to me; not even when and after his manmeat spouted forth a considerable amount of seed. He didn't say another word for the longest time. But, I knew he was finished with his orgasm because he pulled his
cock off of my tongue.
Now, I felt used. Jordan had used me just like I'd used a few girls in my past. Now I felt degraded. How could this have happened? Was it Jordan's sweet talking, taking advantage of my drug induced stupor? Had I really wanted all this to happen? What are my friends going to think; once they find out that I licked balls and cocks, not to mention eating another mans sperm? And, to make me really feel confused; the last time I saw Jordan's dick, it had a catheter in it, from which I was forced to swallow his piss. How did he get the damn thing out, or did someone take it out for him?
"Oh baby, you made daddy feel so good. To think that daddy was the first one to feed you manseed. You will do better in time. You'll even learn to love it and crave it."
I sensed that I was now listening to Jordan, acting as if he was one of my teachers, or like we were still aboard ship. But my emotions were put on hold as Jordan told me the lights had come on; about the same time that I heard the
steel door sliding open.
Jordan lifted me off of his lap, propping me up against the cot; where apparently he had been leaning against the entire time. I felt like I had a hangover or worse. Blood was racing through my body so fast that I was feeling nauseous.
The next sound I heard was the food cart rumbling down the walkway; which I knew would cause me to receive a severe prodding if I couldn't make my way to the cell door. "Don't worry baby, I'll get your food for you. I don't think
that you will get punished for it, since the doctor has got you all drugged up."
I didn't hear a word said, so I guess everything was all right. But, with the
lights on now; the Headmaster and the doctor could watch the entire block of
slaves as we ate.
The other slaves began talking amongst themselves, which was allowed; with the one arrogant slave next to my cell starting right up where he'd left off the night before. I couldn't respond even if I'd wanted to. Nothing, I mean nothing on me was working. I actually felt like a wet washcloth... limp and totally useless. All my eyes could see, for now, was the color grey and moving shadows. I tried to lift my hand to my face, but it didn't move.
I didn't know where Jordan was, or what he was doing. But he soon was beside me, explaining that he had eaten his meal first. "Open baby, daddy is going to feed you now."
I opened my mouth and Jordan stuck two fingers in, with what must have been maple flavored oatmeal. It tasted rather good, but the first two times seemed to have mixed with remnants of his manseed as I swallowed it down. Each time I made sure to suck his fingers clean, as he kept up a steady rhythm of scoop and feed.
"Now baby, the doctor has left a pill for you to take with your meal. I don't
know what it is, but it's probably something to help keep the swelling down on your slave dick and to keep the pain away; so open up one last time baby, so daddy can take care of you."
Like a dumb ass, I opened my mouth and Jordan put the large pill deep into my
mouth; then surprisingly enough he took one of his fingers and forced it down my throat, causing me to initiate my gag reflex. I guess it was the only thing he could have done, since we didn't, I didn't have a water bowl; or did I?
The slave came around a picked up all of the empty bowls, but not before he and the slave in the next cell exchanged words; words that I couldn't make out.
Shortly after he exited the cell block, all of the cell doors sprung open. >From what I was told three of the slaves ran into the young boys cell; where yelling and screaming ensued. The young slave managed to escape their advances by running full tilt into my cell; as he clung like fly paper to Jordan's arm
pleading for Jordan to protect him. Jordan was at a loss. He couldn't help the poor boy, because the other slaves might take out their frustrations on him too.
I tried once again to speak but my voice was silent. I heard the nasty things
the slaves were saying to the boy, things like; 'so you want to be a slave',
'you want cock up you boypussy', 'you want to eat shit and be a boy bitch'.
I could see the shadow of the boy, as two of the slaves pried him loose from Jordan. Jordan told me not to listen, but how impossible was that.
The boy began to kick and scream as on slave began pissing on his face; before lifting him off the ground. Two more slaves had each picked up one of the boys legs; leaving the boy about three feet off the ground, face down.
I could tell by just listening that one of the slaves was forcing his finger up the young boy's ass, while the first slave was getting his kicks by slapping the boys face. When I heard the one slave say, "Now let's see how much he likes eating his own shit" I wanted to rush to the boy's defense, but sat aimlessly; held helpless by the medicine.
I knew that the boy was forced to feed off of his own shit, as he grunted and
with muffled voice tried to fend for himself; as Jordan sat at my side, comforting me in a moment of despair.
Next came the blood curling yells, as the boy was getting his ass beat. How many of the slaves partook in this devilish behavior, I had no clue.
I had to believe that the Headmaster had sanctioned this activity, as he nor the doctor were anywhere around; probably both were watching the whole thing unfold as it was happening from a safe and comfortable distance.
There was a commotion which followed the ass beating, which I took to be several slaves holding the boy down and removing his youthful hair and eyebrows; all while the boy pleaded with the slaves not to touch his golden top. I just can't imagine what father would do this to his son, let alone watch.
The laughter was increasing, as were the derogatory comments; apparently caused by the fact that the boy was getting rinsed off with male piss. After that, everything seemed to quiet down; as the sobs and choking back of tears could plainly be heard.
All this time, Jordan had had one of his arms around my shoulders; comforting me as I endured the sounds of torment; some of which brought back vivid memories. As my cell seemed to have cleared out, except for the sniveling boy; Jordan began playing once again with the steel contraption which was encompassing my scrotum and nuts. His soft touch began to cause a stir in my gut.
I started to feel sick to my stomach, light headed and numb all at the same time. I couldn't understand these feelings, except the one time I had the flu and mom had to keep me home and in bed for almost a week.
Jordan began using his other hand to gently squeeze my tits. It was a most exciting feeling, even with the two huge steel nipple rings pulling them downward. I must have died and gone to heaven. The sexual excitement in my body was sending every pulsing drop of blood into my dick. I could feel it trying to erect, but the cinch ring and everything else seemed to make it impossible. I
didn't know if my dick would ever stand tall anymore; considering the Prince
Albert and the two new ones down my shaft.
With the nauseous feelings combined with the sexual ones, I wondered just what in hell was happening to me. The last things that I remembered were the young boy crawling over and laying next to me; staying away from Jordan, and me laying my own head on Jordan's shoulder inhaling the intoxicating scent of his manliness.
In the darkness of my sleep, I thought much about my mother and her loving ways. I thought about school and all of my friends. I even thought about Alan, wishing he would have come to my rescue. Most of my thoughts seemed to center around nothing but pure unadulterated sex. How was vividly reliving each and every action which Jordan and I had just done. There were many serious questions that I'd ask him, once my voice returned; however, not withstanding were the wonderful feelings of friendship and caring which he'd shown towards me.
I couldn't think, clearly, as to why he was being so kind to me; after having
been involved with my scheme to get rescued. Seeing him yesterday, not the same person I once knew; comparing him to the hairless and beaten man of today was too much for me to comprehend. But, he did smell nice, he tasted even better and his sperm sent me right to the edge of believing I was in love with him. The deeper my sleep, the more I thought of Alan and Jordan. The more I thought of them, the more I began to wonder which of the two I was in love with. Had these past several days, begun to tell me that I was head over heels in love with a man? Geez, I sure hope not. It seemed like an eternity, but I was finally being awakened from my sleep by the doctor. He seemed to be speaking to me and lightly moving my shoulder attempting to get me awake. At least I was able to recognize his voice, as I was still only seeing the 'grey'. I didn't feel as bad now, as I had earlier this morning. Other than the doctor's voice the entire cell block was quiet. I wondered if the Headmaster might have been across the walkway with his son.
"Good morning 'boy', I hope you slept well. We've got things to do and 'you' have places to go; so let's get started."
The doctor helped my off of the cold floor and onto the cot. The first thing I noticed was that my ankles and lower legs were no longer bent and tied up. I began to feel whole, once again; although I could feel that the leather was
still surrounding my hands, feet and knees. I kept my eyes open, thinking and praying that my sight would fully return. The doctor methodically set about, washing and sanitizing all of my body jewelry. The only thing that really hurt was the two rods going through my cock; as he twisted and pulled cleaning off any and all of the crust and dried blood.
"While you slept, some of your teachers removed your anal plug and gave you your daily enema, replacing the plug when they finished. They also did a decent job of giving you a scrubbing, mindful to stay clear of all your beautiful rings."
I listened with a great desire to learn more. I seemed to want and need the doctor's description of what had transpired while I was out cold.
"The young boy is now resting comfortably in my exam room. The Headmaster had me remove the boy's testicles and scrotum. You see, the two young boys are not really the Headmaster's sons. They are a product of our slave breeding program. Once a boy has left his mother's tit milk and is toilet trained, they are sold to people all around the world. There are so many naked boys running around in town that it is hard to tell who is a breeder slave and who is simply a bastard slave. None of them have ever worn clothes, and they are not permitted to have any females' bed with them."
The doctor's hands were cold; well colder than Jordan's' anyway. He seemed to
take pleasure in his work, yet there was something about him that set him apart from the others. He quickly and efficiently finished up my rings; saving the tongue for last. The cleaning solution hadn't changed... it still tasted terrible.
"And as for your shipmate, Jordan, well he's not here either right now. Apparently there was a situation this morning with him stealing your morning rations. The kitchen slave reported him to the Headmaster for taking your food; but unfortunately you won't be eating until later on tonight, so you'll have to
just make do with the energy that you can muster up."
I tried to speak, to yell; that Jordan didn't take my breakfast food. I couldn't even make a simple sound. I guess the doctor was alerted to my efforts to speak, because he quietly calmed me down and said; "Don't worry or be afraid 'boy'. Some of the drugs you have been taking not only render your limbs and other parts of your body useless, but they also affect your vocal cords. Now that really isn't a bad thing, is it? The way I see it, if you thought you could fight your way out of here; the Headmaster would have had you down in my office for a really difficult learning experience. And, besides, if you could speak now you probably would have said something that would have gotten you into deep shit. So just relax and enjoy the 'pampering' that you are receiving. Besides, when you father arrives day after tomorrow, we wouldn't want you taking a swing at him or saying anything bad to him, now would we. I'm just looking out for your best interest.
Unlike your Jordan, who is with two of his teachers this very moment; you can
feel good about yourself that so far you've not done anything which is considered a punishable offense. I'd suspect that your Jordan is getting the fucking of his life and it isn't a pleasant experience from what I've been able to observe. He won't be the same slave by the time he gets back to the cellblock; if he gets back at all."
What in the hell is happening to him? I couldn't think of what the doctor meant by the 'fucking of his life'. They weren't planning on killing him were they? But I had little time to ponder those thoughts, as two large muscled black goons came into my cell; to which the doctor informed them that "pussyboy is all set to go".
The two goons easily picked up my 155 pound body and carried me without a problem, down the walkway, passed all the doors and into the bright sunlight. The fresh air was the most refreshing thing I'd smelt in the last two days; other than Jordan's scent of course.
They set me down on what I could only tell to be a wooden plank or platform. The sun was so bright that it had actually helped me see a little better, past the hazy shade of grey. The goons fixed my knees and ankles to the platform with chains. Next, they slid a wooden post like thing right in front of my head, into the thing I was kneeling on. From there they put another board up, at the top of the wooden post. I could only think that this was something out of a sci-fi flick.
The goons moved my body forward, tightening the chains on the knees and ankles; and placed my throat onto a curved out part of the last board. Then they picked up my arms and put them into similar curved out portions of the wood; completing their task by placed an identical piece of wood over my wrists and the back of my neck. Now the only thing that was touching the platform were my knees; as my head could only face down. I could feel the warm air whisk across my body, more noticeably my butt and what I could only perceive to be my butt plugged ass.
Lastly, they took two pieces of thick, heavy chain and attached it to the two
rings on the bottom of my nut binders; from there they yanked the chain, stretching (painfully) my nuts until the chain was able to be fastened to two steel rings directly behind and below me. Then, everything seemed to come to a halt. Nobody was messing with me; there was neither sound nor voices. It stayed this way for at least an hour, as my skin baked under the southern sky.
The commotion, coming from behind me, alerted my senses once again. The goons
were making most, if not all the noise. It was soon apparent that there was someone in front of my platform, as the words from the goons so indicated.
I could hear them discussing how to fasten something to something. Then one of the goons attached a chain to the front ring on my collar, pulling my head and neck even tighter than it already was.
I heard a swoosh! Then I heard a scream, and then I felt myself moving. I didn't know then what was happening; but now hours later I do. Jordan had been harnessed up to the 'platform', which was on rubber tires. The large ring behind his nuts was chained to my neck, a couple of other thick pieces of his leather harness were attached to the front of my cart; and he was made to pull me, and the cart down a dirt and pea gravel road. The goons kept striking his body with the whips, if they thought he was moving to slow; but soon they had to slow him down, along with the cart as the road was gradually making its way down into the town.
There must have been a party or a parade of sorts going on in town. I heard people shouting gleefully and continuous hand clapping as we were now apparently on the main street of the little town.
As the noise of the crowd got louder and louder, I began to wonder what the celebration was all about. I'm not one for the 'hometown parade or summer carnivals, but anything would be better than me naked for the whole world to see. I guess that they were going to give me a bit of a break from what I'd known what was in store for me back up at the school.
The cart came to a stop, and I suddenly became aware that I was the parade; I
was the fucking carnival. Throngs of people, males, surrounded me. There were so many naked men around me that they began to partially block out the sunshine. I could only imagine what was going on just ahead of me, with Jordan.
A thud, the sound of wood hitting wood; alerted me to the fact that just in front of me, someone had placed a set of wooden steps.
People, more precisely, naked males were now climbing onto my platform; scampering up the three steps just to feel my white boy body. They were all over me like ants at a picnic. They pulled at everything they could get their hands
on. They even pulled my lips apart and got inside my mouth; pulling my tongue out, amazed that I had such a large bead for a tongue piercing. What little time I spent paying attention in Spanish class didn't help much.
I translated one sentence into English, 'Guatemalan white pussyboy'. Another few words I picked up were, 'nice ass', 'cute dick', 'nasty nuts' and 'pussyboy suck dick'. What a mess I was in now. Everybody continued to laugh as if I was nothing more than a piece of beef at a 4H auction.
I could hear the instructors yelling for the kids to jump down and move back;
apparently they'd been videoing the whole circus. I still felt weak and helpless; which probably was a good thing. I had energy enough to deal with anything they threw my way; but without my body responding to my brain, I was like a boat without oars. If only I knew that Jordan was alright.
The hive of boys seemed to grow quiet; as if waiting for the instructors to say something. I don't know why or how, but my bladder let go and piss splattered all over my legs and completed covered the platform I was attached to. This sent the crowd into hysterical fits of laughter; until they were once again ordered to calm down.
Although the tension I was experiencing was subsiding a little bit, I still felt so fucking vulnerable to the situation. It was then, and still is hard for me to explain. There were times when these boys were pawing over me that all I wanted to do was to crawl into a hole and die. Yet, there were moments that I seemed to feel okay with what was going on. I don't know if my mind was allowing me to think something out of a novel; like having a harem of girls caressing and fondling my body; or if it was the fact that I sort of liked the idea of these younger males making a fuss over someone like myself. Do you see, can you understand what I'm trying to say here? I'm thinking that my thought process towards sexual behavior and the lifestyle of any and all slaves needs to be addressed by me, and me alone. Why did the world, my life, have to become so fucked up?
There seemed to be a mixture of English and Spanish being spoken. The teachers were gathering the boys into groups; groups of boys in the same age bracket. One of the goons was instructing each group of boys to stand, saying something like, and 'this is your line'. I could tell that the boys were aged anywhere from eight to sixteen. It was impossible, in my current position to tell exactly what was happening behind me.
The whole group settled in, listening to another teacher explain the 'point system'. As he spoke, his voice got closer and closer to me.
Before I knew it, the teacher was standing right next to me, parallel to my butt; and this is exactly what I heard and felt.
"Anywhere on the legs is one point. Anywhere on the butt is two points. Anywhere on the 'boys' balls is three points, his scrotum is four points and if you are lucky enough to hit his cockhead that is worth five points."
As he began pushing on my butt plug he finished by saying, "and if you hit the 'boys' pleasure plug that is worth ten points."
Damn Almighty, what were they going to do? Were these ignorant jungle slaves going to shoot arrows at me? Maybe they were going to play darts, with my asshole as the bull's-eye.
I began screaming, my still silent screams. Sweat was now pouring off my body in places that I didn't know even could sweat. My bladder let go one final time and all I could do was close my eyes and think of my mom.
I knew that because I was drugged up, I probably wouldn't feel it to bad, if at all. And, if they were going to eventually kill me, then I probably wouldn't suffer much either.
"And to the winner of this years, "Paint the Whore" contest... the winner will receive a full course dinner including a hamburger and fries, AND the winner will also get to spend an evening with the 'boy', the day to be determined by
the Headmaster of the school. LET THE GAME BEGIN"
I heard a poof, and then I felt something hit my butt. "TWO POINTS" shouted the teacher. I felt something run down my butt as he was saying that. Whatever had struck me, didn't hurt to much at all. Perhaps it was because it was my butt muscle; which 'cushioned' the pain. The third or fourth time that I heard the 'poof', my brain screamed out in pain. "THREE POINTS!"
There seemed to be a quick pause as I heard the teacher say "Next boy get ready". Somebody was also wiping my body with a wet rag, paying close attention to my balls and scrotum.
This game went on for a lifetime. The discomfort from getting 'hit' got more intense each time a different age group was called up to play 'Paint the Whore'. What I found out later was that the boys were using a paintball gun, with me as their target. As age of each group got older and older, the discomfort was gone; replaced by sheer pain and torture. The 'starting line' had been moved up with each age group; which should have been the other way around.
Apparently the game was rigged. No 'young' boy would be the winner unless it was pure luck. You see, this game was played once a year. Each year would mean a year's practice on a fellow human. Thus, the older you got, the more practice you got as well. Each boy got five shots at my body. Consequently, over the years, the majority of 'winners' were from the older class of boys.
I couldn't tell you how sick I got. I do know that I puked twice. The older boys, knowing the 'value' of points and also the 'value of their own balls and
cocks' seemed to be quite skilled at hitting mine. They must've known, from past personal experience, just how much pain they were inflicting on my body. All for a fucking hamburger and fries.
When it was over, the winner had scored twenty four points. He was permitted to wash away all of the final bits of paint from my body. Each time he scrubbed over where one of the paintballs had hit me; it stung like a bee.
Then he mounted my platform, standing next to my head. There were shouts and jeering, abundantly vocalized, towards the winner, or should I say the 'victor'. He stood there, from what I could tell, motionless; as if someone was taking his picture standing next to his 'trophy'.
All I wanted to think about was my 'mom', but two other things kept me thinking of them....
if you would like to read other stories by the SanibelBoys go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SanibelBoys Just be sure that your profile shows your 'adult' age ,no exceptions, thanks, marcus, trey and billy