TAKING WALLY TO GAYTOWN, psrt 4 By Master Redbeard (redbeardedsf @ yahoo.com)
(This story is inspired by Waddie Greywolf, who was himself inspired by Richard Davis. Greywolf allowed me to read an advance chapter of a story that is as-yet unpublished. His story is about a fundamentalist Christian father in Texas who enslaves his sons. My story about a father and his sons is very different from Waddie's, but it is based in the same universe and was inspired by reading Waddie's story.)
(This is a fantasy story set in a world in which slavery exists. This story includes gay sex, some of which happens between an adult man of 18 and older men. If any of this is offensive to you or if it's illegal to read such a story in your jurisdiction, go away now. If you have trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy, do not read this story - go get help now.)
How much of this could I blame on all the alcohol I had consumed?
I was completely sober the previous day when I found the naked sex pictures of men among my son's things. And I was clearheaded when I enslaved Wally in accordance with everything I (and my church) believed. It had been a strange experience taking my boy to the slave hall in Gaytown. As a devout Fundamentalist Christian, I had avoided interacting with people like that. But the Major, the man who had ultimately purchased Wally, did not seem like one of those gays at all. I was pleased when he told me that the only sex he had with men was using slave boys. Both of us belonged to churches that preached that sex with a slave boy did not count as the sin of homosexuality.
The Major was an impressive man, a real man's man. He had paid $120,000 for Wally - more money than I'd ever known in my life. His insistence that I attend his birthday party that night hadn't seemed like much. I even surprised myself by getting along with most of the gay guests at his gathering. When I'd expressed concern as to whether any gay sex might be happening at his party, the Major assured me that the only sex would be "with the slave boy" so it would not be sinful in the eyes of my church. Of course, in this case, the slave boy was my newly enslaved oldest son.
But Wally had been caught up in an odd party game that the Major devised. He made his new slave dress in some of his free boy clothes and act the part of a free boy who was brought to the party by his father. I had played along and even chuckled as I told my "supposedly free" son to be nice to the men, to let them touch him or take down his pants. The Major had encouraged Wally to react like a free boy and for a moment the boy had tried to fight off the men and get away from them. But now he was bent over a table, his undershirt pulled up under his armpits and his briefs tangled in his thighs.
The Major stood over my son lightly touching his own large penis. "Once you're broken in as a slave, boy, nobody will have to hold you down for me to fuck you," he said philosophically. "But for tonight, when the spirit of a free boy still runs through your body, it'll be a special kind of fun."
"Please, sir," Wally called out breathlessly. "I'm not a slave. My dad made a mistake. You know I'm not a queer boy. You know I don't belong a slave. Tell my dad. Please, sir, don't do this to me."
The Major moaned and said, "You know how to make an old man's cock throb even harder, little fella." The men gathered around as the Major slapped the teen ass and said, "Just yesterday afternoon, gentlemen, this cute little ass was swimming in a small town community pool. Just yesterday he pulled down his swimsuit in that locker room in front of a bunch of his high school buddies and showered with them after their swim. All those other free boys got a look at these delectable cheeks and the hairless crack between them."
Warren had been hungrily and noisily licking out Wally's butthole. At that point, the big man smacked his lips and said, "None of them knew that the very next day this boy's delectable ass would be main course at a banquet in Gsytown." Now there was raucous laughter, including the Major. But I saw that Wally was quietly sobbing as he lay pinned to the table by the group of older men.
Warren had been pushed from his place at my son's butt and now the Major was standing there, gently touching the head of his thick penis around the opening of Wally's anus. The man was using his cock to toy with the boy's ass.
Wally was softly whimpering, "Daddy, don't let them. Daddy you can stop them. Give him back the money, daddy. Don't make me be his slave, daddy." I sat upright. Through the alcohol fog, I took in the scene. For a moment I reacted as any father might. I saw my innocent teenage son being overpowered by a group of men. His clothes had been ripped off and he was pinned across a table with a big penis threatening his bottom. For that split second I was ready to rush over to the table and fight those men to protect my boy.
But then the Major called out to me, "Dad! We need you here, dad!" I shook my head and the fog cleared once more. That very afternoon I had sold my son Wally into slavery and the Major was his owner. Everything I was watching was a game being played for the Major's birthday party. Well, I suppose it wasn't a game to Wally. He was dealing with the very real situation of having been stripped, bent across a table and pinned, and now had the hands of a bunch of homosexuals all over his exposed body and had a thick cock head toying with and threatening his anus.
When I looked up in response to the Major, I tried to adjust the crotch of my pants. I didn't want to come closer to his group of men displaying my obvious erection. But he just smiled and said, "We've all seen that you're hard, man, and none of us blame you. Come as you are. We want to make use of that weapon of yours."
There was a loud holler from Wally as I approached the table. When I was close enough to see there was the Major's thick penis stuck into Wally's bottom hole. From the length still exposed, it was clear that only the very head of his cock was inside the boy. But even with that, I saw that Wally's face was flushed red and he was breathing hard as if he'd just run a race. The Major was rotating his hips to the right and to the length. He remarked that this was a good way to stretch out a fresh boy hole. He then assured me that, whatever else Wally may have done, the boy's ass had never before been invaded. Each time the Major pushed forward a little bit more, Wally grunted and breathed hard. But there were no more shouts as there had been with the initial entry.
I didn't understand whether the Major had called me over to the table just so I could be a close-up eyewitness to my son's deflowering. Was this why he wanted me at his birthday party? When the Major came to rest I saw that the entire root of his large cock was all the way inside my son's rectum. His lush salt and pepper pubes were pressed right up against Wally's hairless round cheeks.
At that point the Major smiled at me and said, "I want you to be the first to feed a load of cum down the boy's throat."
I looked down at my son's beautiful face. His lips barely moved and the sound barely emanated from them as he whispered, "Daddy, no." How could I do what the Major asked me to do? And yet my cock was throbbing in my jockstrap and precum was oozing out of its head as I focused on those soft pink lips.
"Come on, man," the Major said with a mixture of impatience and good cheer. "All my buddies here are jealous of you. I know they'd all like to go first. But given your special relationship and your history with my new slave boy, I insist that you take that honor.
"I know you've put that cock of yours into slave boy mouths before. That doesn't detract from you being a straight man. And since it was sex with slaves that doesn't take anything away from you being a good Christian." The Major chuckled softly and seemed to be adjusting the position of his hips, which moved his cock that was deeply embedded in my son and caused Wally to gasp. "But look at the lips on this boy. I bet you've never had a slave boy suck you who had such a pretty face. Look how soft the lower lip is. Just touch your finger to his lower lip. See how his lips quiver in anticipation when you touch them lightly. Look at the way the boy's upper lip curls up. That's what I call a cocksucker mouth.
"Look at that look in the boy's eyes. He keeps telling you he doesn't want it. He keeps telling you that he's a straight boy. But look in his eyes. How long has this boy been dreaming of a chance to kiss his daddy's big cock? And you know what kind of dreams I'm talking about, dad." There was something hypnotic about the Major's voice. I wanted to pull away and let these men continue their games without me. But then the big man said, "Just take it out of your pants, dad. Take it out and have the boy give it a kiss for you - a kiss you'll both remember for the rest of your lives."
And just like that I found myself opening my belt and unzipping my pants. I let them fall knowing my shirttail covered my exposed ass. Some man remarked, "He wears a jockstrap?" and another said, "Men with big dicks who don't want to go around showing off." But all these sounds were going on in the background. My focus was all on the table in front of me. Wally's chest was pressed against the table. His t-shirt was pulled up revealing his spine and lower back, but was still tangled under his armpits. His butt was at the edge of the table sticking up and the Major was attached deep inside the boy. One man was holding one of Wally's arms down, while another man held his other arm. There had been more men pinning him initially, but now the Major and I were in position to hold him in place.
I pulled down the front of my jockstrap and my thick cock popped out. I was close to 40. I couldn't remember the last time my cock had been so rigid. It stood out on its own. I brought it close to Wally's lips. The boy looked up at me and said, "D-daddy, don't. I'm not a..." Whatever he had meant to be the next word in that sentence was lost in a gurgle and a slurp and a gag as I slid my thick cock between his lips. I don't know what possessed me. I had merely intended to put my cock head to his lips for a kiss. But as soon as I made contact, I just wanted to go deep inside that mouth.
Soon my hips were moving back and forth. Someone called out, "Yeh, feed the boy your spunk, daddy!" and I started going at it with more fervor. But Wally was gagging and choking and struggling. I pulled away. When I looked across to the other side of the table, the Major was gently sliding his thick cock in and out of Wally's asshole. "Go on. The boy needs to learn to suck a big one!" the Major barked at me.
Warren turned out to be truly helpful then. He turned Wally's face so the boy's throat was lined up with his mouth and then nodded to me to go for it. Just then a man touched my butt and I jerked away. Warren admonished the crowd, reminding them that I was straight and didn't want any of them touching me. As I was about to thank him he said, "But you could do us all a nice turn and take off your shirt. You're quite a man, dad. We'd all like to get a good show of you feeding dick to your son." I was flattered and even as I started slowly sliding my cock in and out of Wally's mouth, I unbuttoned my shirt, let it fall to the floor, and then peeled off my undershirt. My wife had complained I was too hairy to suit her, and I suppose I was even hairier as I got older. But these men didn't seem to mind as they whistled and gave catcalls. I'm sure they were just having fun - I'm at an age where I'm getting a beer gut and my muscles are not as hard and defined as when I was young.
I looked across to the Major and he and I seemed to be in sych with our movements. He called out, "Time for some longdicking!" This meant that he pulled his cock almost all the way out of the boy's butt and then slid the full length in fast and smooth. Each time the Major slid his cock deep in, Wally grunted and his grunts were massaging my cock head and making me leak copious amounts of goo down the pretty slave boy's throat.
That's when I truly began to my son's mouth. Now I was longdicking him. I looked down at his beautiful features. The same cute nose, the same sweet lips, the same soft blond hair he'd always had. Only now his face was distorted and his lips stretched around my thick erection. Men were calling out obscenely, "Daddy's gonna feed you his sperm, boy." "Daddy's breaking in that mouth, boy, make you an expert cocksucker." "Eat it, Wally. Be a good boy for your dad."
There was no way I could hold back. I cannot describe what my scream of release was like because it was as if it was someone else screaming in some far-off dimension. My cock felt like a cannon and I could not stop for a moment to give any consideration to Wally's mouth that had to deal with the outpouring from my organ. I was brought back to reality by the shouts of the Major who collapsed forward across my son's torso. I could tell from the redness of his face and the way he was gasping for breath that the big man was filling the boy's guts with semen.
When I eased my penis out of Wally's mouth my cream dripped from his lips. The Major reached for the boy's face and pinched his cheek as he said sweetly, "In future, you'd best not spill a drop or you'll be punished. But, after all, this is your birthday, little fella."
I could barely stand up. Warren helped me over to one of the sofas where I fell across it. I didn't fight him as he took off my boots, my pants and my jockstrap. But he didn't make any attempt to molest me. Any other time it would've bothered me to have a bunch of homosexuals see me naked like that, but none of the men were looking at me - their attention was directed to my newly enslaved son.
Brian, the retired actor, called out, "I wanna taste his daddy's spunk right off his tongue." Then the rugged man grabbed Wally and gave the boy a sloppy kiss. I could tell even from the distance that Brian's tongue was deep in my son's throat. I blinked at the scene. I had recently seen one of Brian's old movies on the late show, a western, and he had given a steamy kiss to a beautiful Mexican actress. But the kiss he gave my son was much more passionate.
I heard someone else call out, "Let's have the boy judge a kissing contest. C'mon, Wally, you'll pick who kisses best."
That's when I fell asleep. I never saw any of the kissing contest and never found out who was judged the winner. When I opened my eyes I wasn't sure what was a dream and what was reality. There, in front of me, I saw Wally dressed in his new blue suit, with a pressed white shirt, a dark tie, and his black dress shoes. I had bought him that suit to wear to college interviews. He had worn it to deliver his graduation speech. He only wore it to church on special occasions. Now, as I drank in the scene, the boy seemed to be standing on a low table and delivering his graduation speech.
Was I dreaming this scene of him delivering his speech? Or perhaps the whole enslavement had been a dream? Maybe I had fallen asleep during the graduation ceremony? But then I became aware that I was sprawled naked on a sofa in a lavish parlor. And I became aware that five of the original partygoers were gathered around the boy, listening to his speech. The men, however, were all in various states of undress. A few were totally naked. The rest had their clothes opened and disheveled. Some sported erections quite openly.
As my son delivered his graduation speech from memory, the men shouted encouragement, but they also touched him sensually. One naked man got on the table behind Wally, reached around and opened the boy's blue suit pants, pulling them down. Wally faltered in the speech, but the man behind him called out, "Keep going, boy. You were doing fine." Two different hands were already reaching inside the front of my son's briefs at the same time, while the man behind him was reaching around and ripping the buttons from his nice white shirt.
A vague thought occurred to me that I should protest the way they were ruining good clothes. But then I realized how silly that was. I was going to give those clothes away anyway and, as far as I was concerned, the clothes were the property of the Major, my son's new owner. I became aware of the Major sitting sprawled out on the sofa directly across from me. The man was naked except for his cowboy boots and was lightly toying with his semi-erect penis as he watched the scene unfold. He smiled at me and said, "That's some boy you've got there."
I just said, "He's your boy now, Major." Then I fell asleep again.
It seemed as if I was asleep for less than a minute when a loud holler woke me. "Fu-u-u-u-uck!" boomed a powerful man's voice. My eyes blinked open and I saw that Mel, the short banker, was fucking Wally in the ass. Two different men were holding Wally's feet in the air and wide apart. The boy was still wearing his dress shoes and black socks, and there were tattered bits of fabric that had once been blue slacks. Mel was naked and had a very toned body for a man in his 40s. And he was obviously in the midst of a powerful orgasm as he spewed forth a string of epithets and filthy blather. Then he was trying to catch his breath but telling the other men who had been watching, "The next time some pretty boy like this, wearing a blue suit like this, comes into my office for a job interview, I want all you guys to be there to rip his clothes and hold him while I fuck his ass." There were some scattered chuckles. I realized that Wally being dressed in the suit and reciting his graduation speech was all part of the game the Major had started - pretending they were having sex with a free boy.
This time when I fell asleep I was sure I would sleep soundly. But I was awoken by a bump and a thud. I wiped my eyes and realized that the sofa I was lying on had been bumped. Not three feet away from me on the adjoining sofa I saw my son sitting on the lap of his former swim coach, Ryan. The look on Ryan's face made me think that I had been bumped on purpose. He grinned and said, "Sorry to wake you, dad. This is how I've wanted to see Wally all night. Actually, this is how I've always wanted to see Wally."
Wally was wearing an old pair of Speedos I had tossed into the duffel bag. They had the high school name across the rump. Ryan was naked, one arm around Wally's shoulder pulling the boy against his chest, his other hand exploring Wally's body, pinching and twisting his nipples roughly, then fondling between the boy's legs, squeezing at his flesh. The look of unhappiness on my son's face made me glad that I hadn't ended up selling him to Ryan and his older lover.
Ryan looked at me slyly and said, "I'll show you what I dreamed of doing each day after swim practice with your boy here. I used to look in on the boys in the showers, always paying special attention to little Wally and always getting where I could see his round little ass cheeks. Hell, the kid had a fuckable bottom even back then."
Leaning toward Ryan I used my quietest but most intense voice to say, "You sick fuck, he was just a little kid then, and he looked even younger than his age."
Ryan started laughing out loud. He pushed Wally from his lap and positioned the boy so he was bent over the sofa. Wally was standing with his knees resting against the front of the sofa, but was bent over so his face and arms were resting on the back of the sofa. Ryan then took a huge knife and I was about to lunge for the man to protect the boy when he used the blade to cut the side of Wally's Speedos. The knife was tossed aside and the fabric from the swimsuit fell away but still clung around one of Wally's thighs.
"You sold your son into slavery today and you fucked him in the throat. If you wanna see a sick fuck, look in the mirror!" That said Ryan positioned the head of his penis against Wally's butthole. From my vantage point I could see that my son's anus was already distended and wet from previous fuckings. Then in one swift move Ryan shoved the full length of his cock all the way inside Wally.
Wally's howl of pain turned into a series of staccato sobs. But Ryan would not let up. He was determined to fuck my son as hard as he could. Each time Ryan's larger body slammed into Wally's butt, all the air seemed to be knocked out of the boy.
"P-p-please, sir, you're h-h-hurting me. C-c-coach, p-please."
"For the love of God, you bastard, you're hurting the poor kid," I shouted, standing to my full height.
That's when I became aware of the Major, who was still reclining nearly naked (he still kept his boots on) on the third sofa. In a calm voice, he said, "Now, hold on, dad, you're a bit out of line there. That slave boy is my property and he has to get used to being used any way my guests like."
I collapsed onto the sofa. Was that the moment I was hit with the full impact of what I'd done? The son I had raised for eighteen years was now another man's wholly owned property. Warren appeared then, took me by the arm and helped me up, saying, "I think you should've been in bed a while back, dad." I was wobbly on my feet.
As Warren helped me slowly out of the room I could hear the continual bang and oomph of Ryan's rough sex with my son. I also heard Ryan rattling on in a loud voice, "One day while you were in the pool I went back to the locker room and I got your white underpants out of your locker, Wally. I wrapped your briefs around my thick man-sized cock and beat off. I didn't sperm all that much since I was beating off a lot on days we had swim practice, but I wiped my spunk inside your underpants, little fella. I watched when you pulled those briefs up yr smooth little legs that day and when I knew you had my spunk against your hairless cheeks and balls..."
Warren and I were on the second floor and I couldn't hear any more of Ryan's story. But hearing what my son's middle school coach had been saying didn't even faze me. There had been too much to absorb that day. With Warren's help I found the room where the Major had placed me. I saw that large double doors were open between my bedroom and the Major's bedroom. I fell into the bed and pulled the blanket around me. Warren took a seat beside me and just looked at me for a moment.
"Ryan is going to get his," the heavyset man said in a matter-of-fact way.
"What?"
"That snotty son-of-a-bitch who was fucking the new slave so hard and hurting him - he's going to be enslaved within a matter of months."
This had gotten my attention and I encouraged Warren to continue. He said, "Nigel always finds these cute young guys and is always so solicitous of them. He spoils them rotten and these boys start to think they're real hot shit who have Nigel wrapped around their little fingers. But after about two years Nigel loses interest. That's coming up pretty soon for Ryan. I can see a lot of the signs.
"Within a few months, maybe weeks, Ryan will find out that all those papers he signed were loans from Nigel, and he'll find out the loans are due and that he is legally enslaved. Nigel has a little habit of taking the money he gets from enslaving one boyfriend and using it for a lavish vacation with the next boyfriend."
"You're saying this old guy has followed the same pattern over and over?" I asked incredulous.
Warren nodded and went on, "If you're wondering why nobody has told Ryan, it's because Ryan is such a total son of a bitch that nobody cares to let him know. That's the other funny thing in the pattern - Nigel always chooses a good-looking athletic fellow who's thoroughly nasty and obnoxious."
"How does someone get into a pattern like that?" I asked, suddenly feeling wide awake.
Chuckling, Warren said "Who knows what goes on in those English boarding schools that Nigel attended so many decades back?"
Then Warren looked at me as if considering whether he wanted to continue the conversation. "Do you want to know about the Major's pattern?" Warren asked. The look in my face clearly gave him an affirmative answer. "I've known the Major longer than any of these others. I knew him back when he was still married to a woman and keeping his attraction to men on the down low. But this incident I'm going to tell you about happened after he was divorced, kind of early in the time he was leading a gay life, and well before he made his peace with the Lord and joined his present church.
"The Major has homes in different parts of the world - usually places he has business interests. This happened on the day of his 40th birthday and we were celebrating with a group of gay friends, holding a barbecue at a home he has overlooking the Mississippi River. He got a phone call from the office and when he came back outside to join us he was grinning like a cat that ate the canary and holding a copy of the small town newspaper.
"We were all curious what was going on. He told us the phone call had been from an employee who had to come and bring him an envelope. He then opened the newspaper and showed us a photograph of a boy in a baseball uniform - this very pretty boy, blond hair in his eyes and adorable smile, had been the hero of the league championships. The Major pointed to the picture and told us this boy was the son of the employee who was coming to deliver the envelope. Then he told us that he had encouraged the employee to bring along his son for the ride. He had told the employee that he wanted to meet the hero who had brought the league championship to their little town and that the boy might enjoy a tour of the place.
"It was an hour later when the employee showed up. I think his name was Martin, his last name I mean. This Martin fellow was quite a hunk to begin with. Blond crew cut, shoulders out to here, a chest that was practically popping his buttons, but slim hips and long strong legs. And it was clear that this boy took after his father. The kid was named Cody I think and was even cuter in person than in the newspaper. So the Major is all charm to both of them. He wants the dad to stay and have a drink. He offers them both some barbecue. And he's grilling them both to talk about themselves and all this time he keeps refilling the dad's drink."
I looked away to hide the fact that I was blushing. Asking questions and refilling drinks had been the Major's pattern with me.
"So then out of the blue the Major starts talking about the fact that he's gay. He talks about the fact that all of his buddies at the barbecue were either gay or they enjoyed dabbling with men. You could see Martin wasn't used to being around gay people. First he sends his son to go and explore the far side of the garden. Then he was squirming and looking at his watch like he couldn't wait to get out of there and this employee was talking all kinds of crap about how he's not prejudiced and he doesn't care what people do in the privacy of their own bedrooms.
"But the Major isn't about to let this father and son leave that easy. They got on the topic of age, this being the Major's 40th birthday. I remember Martin was something like 33 or 34, but he could've passed for 26." I started calculating in my head. I wasn't sure where this story was leading but, if that was the dad's age, could his son be 18? Even as I was on the verge of asking, I kept my mouth shut. Maybe there were some details better not to know.
Warren continued without missing a beat, "The Major comes right out and tells Martin what a good body he has and asks him to take off his shirt. Now, this fella was the kind of guy where if someone gay came up to him in a bar and made any kind of pass, he would beat the living daylights out of the homo. But here's the owner of his company, this powerful wealthy man, saying he'd like to see him without a shirt. Martin is hemming and hawing and turning red and wondering if this is all a joke or a test. So the Major looks him right in the eyes and says, 'Tell you what. If you strip down to your underpants right now and spend the rest of the day with me and my buddies just like that, I'll give you a thousand bucks.' This guy is frozen. Like he never imagined hearing hearing such a thing and he couldn't even be sure he had really heard it.
"When Martin finally talks, what do you think he says? He says, 'If you're serious, I could really use that thousand bucks and it doesn't sound like it'd do me any harm, but what about my boy being here?' So the Major looks like he's thinking for a long minute and says, 'I'll give you two-thousand bucks if you and your boy both strip to underpants and hang out with us for the rest of the day without putting any clothes on.'
"Well now I'm really working hard not to crack up laughing. Y'see I knew the Major well enough by then, and I knew the Major's tastes. Even though the dad was hot and had a great body and would've been the fantasy man for 90-percent of gays out there, I knew the Major was more interested in getting that son down to his underpants. And, well I guess you know the Major can be a persuasive man. I was boning up wondering just what would happen once this dad and son had both taken down their pants."
(end of part 4 - to be continued)