Disclaimer/Reminder: The following story is a work of gay fiction although based on non-fictional occurrences. It contains sexual acts between males in high school as well as with males beyond high school age. There are scenes of definite humiliation, some of them graphic. If this subject matter is offensive to you or if you are too young to be reading it, please exit now. You have been warned. This story is the property of the author under U.S. copyright laws, and may not be used elsewhere without written consent. Otherwise enjoy. Emails expressing interest or wishing further information can be sent to: mtnuda@hotmail.com.
Note: All names and locations have been altered to protect the innocent. The state in which the story originally happened - coincidentally - has a legal age of sixteen; the "fictionalized" location does not. Also descriptions of unprotected sex are fictional due to story restraints. You understand you are reading a work of fiction; behave accordingly. Again, do not read this if you're a minor or are offended by gay situations or activities which can be classified as bdsm.
Now, back to our show --
Chapter eighty-six
Saturday August 10 continued
"To understand contemporary culture, you have to be willing
to move beyond intellectual definitions and academic disciplines.
You have to be willing to throw your net out widely and be willing
to take in science, politics, and art, and science fiction, the occult,
and pornography. To catch a sense of the whole in pattern recognition,
you have to leap across the synapse and follow the rapid movement
of informational bits. You treat in a paragraph what you know
could take up a whole academic monograph, but jugglers are
too restless for that: the object of the game is to grasp the object
quickly, and then give it up in a flash to the brighter air.
William Irwin Thompson, Evil and World Order
Kroos was led over to the bench, one eye on Joel wincing from the strain on his arm twisted behind his back, courtesy of Arn and his improvisational skills now that the prearranged script was more half-forgotten memory than strict guideline. The way Joel's shorts were bunched around his thighs, his green-slicked hardness telling Kroos the Viagra was still strong in his system. He looked down at himself and saw his own jock were doing nothing to cover his own full hardness pumped and shiny, the pouch pulled to the side all but pointless. And the way Mort and Bernan were bending him over the bench he knew his ass was on full display for the audience, twin hairy muscled globes, the hairier crack between them wide open and the cameras! but he could do nothing about it without breaking character. Which for all purposes was an admission of defeat, an admission they had trumped him at his own game. And right now Kroos' game was making sure the entire cast was gathered here tonight for his gang rape, because that is what it would be soon enough, even if he was not swinging fists and blackening eyes as they took their turns forcing him to take their rods up him. In his mind Kroos imagined this would have evolved at the office in a more orderly manner, that one-way mirror installed almost for that very reason, the second-string team there suiting up or down as the case may be. When he visualized that scenario in his mind's eye, there were dozens and dozens of guys, almost lined up for a non-stop assault on him, both ends at once, each guy ejaculating his orgasm in him then quickly returning to the end of the line for seconds, thirds, hell, Kroos saw it as an endless conveyor belt, non-stop pistoning choreographed by his hips and shoulders, rocking forward onto some guy's cock down his throat and backward onto some anonymous cock deep inside his rectum, over and over, until... but in that vision he could see certain figures were there, had to be there, must be there in order to create sufficient sexual frenzy, to make the second stage rockets fire, to complete the sequence past orbit to... what? That part Kroos could not see.
That was what he had to discover, even if it meant subjecting himself to all of this pain and abuse.
So Kroos crouched there, his knees spread against the side of the hard bench, knowing they wanted him to kneel there next even before they said it.
He had to submit to this, even if it meant allowing them to force Joel to invade him anally in front of the whole group he knew he had to go along with it. This single episode was all their script called for, he suspected.
All of these elaborate ruses were so much window dressing for the main event: Kroos and his butt! Part of him hoped once they forced Joel to fuck him like this they would proceed to their next scene whatever that may be, and let him catch his breath. But there was that frightening and familiar thought they were all going to line up for a turn at his butt, his dream made flesh. So all of this play-acting so far was both comical and alarming. Who now was arranging, directing all this? He had been here before, when it had been Mark or once Mort himself who was forced to perform for the cameras. That was why he continued to look around, trying to figure out which one of his "associates" had replaced Joel's attempt at calling the shots. He kept guessing Mort and kept guessing wrong.
"Okay on the bench, on your knees" no suprise at the command, but great surprise it came from Mort. Kroos looked at Mort's sweaty face, suspecting a vetriloquist behind him moving the levers. So was he the ringleader after all? For a while Kroos thought the puppetmaster was his "friend " Arn. Now what?
Kroos did not need to be told where this was going. He knelt on the bench, then slowly leaned forward, until his hands were grabbing the plank on either side of him. He watched the shadows shift as the lights from the cameras rolled into place.
"Okay can I take a shower already and get this off me?" Joel's hands struggling to get at his crotch, his cock and balls shiny with the gel and waving in the breeze. He knew they had other plans, but if they wanted him to play his part, they had to play theirs as well.
"Not so fast!" Arn twisted Joel's other arm behind him as well, knowing he would meet little resistance. But having this half-naked kid pinned in his power like this was having the desire effect. If one thing got his cock to twitch it was wrestling someone like Joel, his bare ass rubbing back into Arn's crotch like a mind reader.
"But I gotta -- "
"You gotta what? First you arrange some nasty stunt to force your coach here give a blow job to our out-of-town guest -- where is he by the way? -- and now you're planning what? Now you really in such a big hurry to... fuck your coach huh?" Arn pushed Joel's shorts down past his knees. Joel gave a hiss as he felt them hit the floor, his tan shirt barely covering anything below his ample waist.
"Never saw anybody so eager to fuck!" Arn gave Joel's backside a few bumps, making his cock bounce once or twice, testing whether it was hard enough to do the deed. It was hard and primed and Joel moaned at the warm contact against his sweaty ass.
"Knock it off. Mort?" Moose took a step forward, his face red.
"More?" Mort turned to his cousin "y'say y'want more?" hoping to force him to back off. At least not use his real name again.
"We didn't come here to see you coaches pick on the kid -- "
"What did you come -- I mean what were ya expecting?" looking down at Moose's state "cause whatever it was, looks like yer enjoyin the view!"
"Wait -- " Moose took another step, but Bigfoot John behind him pulled him back,
"Relax" he whispered "this isn't the time."
Moose pulled away from his grip, but gave Joel a quizzical look. Joel lowered his head, nodding.
Kroos caught some of this out of the corner of his eye, trying one last time to signal Joel to back out of there and leave this for the adults, but Joel nodded at Moose, then at him. Kroos heard the rustling, then caught the silhouette of Mort, yes Mort, pull a buttplug from that ridiculous bag and start to grease it up. And a rather significant plug it was. A good eight inches long and as big around as... but Kroos lowered his head and closed his eyes, bracing for the invasion of his already sore and greased asshole.
"What the hell y'gonna do with that?" from that "Rick" guy, his shorts barely containing his fully hard cock, the head almost poking out the fly. His free hand was under his t-shirt, rubbing his nipple still feeling the effect of the green goo from before "y'ain't actually gonna..."
"No way he's gonna let ya put that in him" Doughboy added "is he?" The way he was standing almost asked, will he?
"Well Kr-Chris?" Bernan let go of Kroos' shoulder and stepped over the bench. He stood facing Kroos, close enough to Kroos' face he could feel his breath on his crotch. Bernan leaned forward grabbing both of Kroos' shoulders, preventing him from struggling free.
"No... please... not in front of all the guys..." Kroos knew it sounded false but saw their reactions.
"They gotta see if you really gonna do this, have the whole school see this" Mort snarled at him "see if ya let this open ya up right here, see if ya let someone push this in your ass like some punk whore... watch it stretch that hole wide open... get it good'n ready for the real things, cause you know half the town's in that hole before the night's over."
"Just get it over with then" Kroos muttered back.
"I'll try to make this feel real hot'n nasty for ya" Mort checked the cameras, making sure they got a good view. He squeezed a glob of lube onto the end of the plug and without more warning started pushing. Kroos was guided back into it with Bernan's help, feeling it start to stretch him wide. By that point he had little resistance left. Mort almost lost his balance as the widest part eased Kroos' ring open and with a wet slurp popped in. Kroos gave a loud grunt and that was it.
With Kroos bent over, the plug buried deep inside his ass, Arn grunted in Joel's ear,
"How bad y'want yer dick in there now?" indicating Kroos on the bench.
"You don't expect me to put my cock in some guy's ass?" Joel stood there half-naked and bone hard, trying to look shocked. They guys closest to him knew his red face was not from embarrassment, but from his eager lust to get in there.
"Only way to clean that off your dick!"
"Gotta be another..." Brian murmured out loud.
"I just want this shit off me!" Joel was squirming, his hands behind him, his chest large and panting.
"Before y'hurt yerself..." Arn's hands were back at Joel's pulling them this way and that "turn around."
"But -- "
Joel struggled and mugged for the cameras, glad that Dougboy guy was too busy taking pics of Kroos' plugged hairy butt to get a close up of Joel and Arn twisting and writhing. Joel could have tossed the bigger guy on his ass if he wanted but after a suitable time allowed Arn to wrestle him to the floor, his arms twisted behind him. With one hand, Arn unfastened the web belt from his shorts and had them around Joel's wrists in record time. Joel swore and protested but his wrists were secured.
There was some protest from the guys on stage and even from the folding chair brigade but the grumblings stopped with Joel being lifted to his feet, Arn doing the deed one-handed, the heavy corded muscles in his arm pumping and mugging for the closest camera.
Joel stood there trying to look resigned and beaten. But his balls and cock were still bright red and shiny under the lights. And his Viagra-filled cock was so swollen now it looked like it had spent the last two hours in a vacuum pump, the green goo spread over its head starting to thin running down the length of his cock, all the way to his exposed nuts. Tears were starting to form in his eyes with the pain, but there was no more Joel could do; he already had thrown in the towel, as it were.
"So y'gonna tell us what you're hiding or we gonna make ya shove yer dick up the coach's ass here?" Arn looked at Mort, then back at Joel.
"I ain't tellin ya shit!" Joel heard something resembling one of thelines he read backstage "lemme wash this off me!!"
"Told ya already" Arn had one hand on Joel's bound wrists, the other keeping his pants up "only way to make yer dick stop burning is--"
"Okay okay y'win, anything, just lemme get this off my balls! I can't stand it any more" Joel was trying to fight off the tears, fearing he looked like a total wuss in front of everyone, but he was enjoying the attention no end "yes!"
"Okay stud" Arn led him over to Kroos' bent-over frame "in front of everyone, buttfuck yer friend -- "
"But I can't -- "
"Why not?" Arn tried to look shocked "suddenly you don't like the idea of everyone seein ya fuckin guys in the ass?"
"No -- I mean yeah -- I mean" Joel looked around "I can't with 'that' in him!"
"Well take it out" Mort nodded "he must be gettin real uncomfortable like kneeling there like that -- "
"And he's probably gettin hot for the real thing right Kr--Kramer?" Bernan lifted Kroos' head "y'want him t'fuck you in your ass don't you?"
Kroos just lowered his head, almost nodding.
"Well don't keep us all waiting!" Arn looked around the stage "fuck yer buddy's hole in front of everyone!"
"But his buttplug-- "
"Well take it out already!"
"Untie me then!" Joel lifted his bound arms.
"Y'don't need yer hands" Arn looked at Mort "right?"
"What?" Joel and a few others shouted.
"Use yer teeth perv!" Arn looked at Joel "here, lemme help ya."
And Arn grabbed Joel by the shoulder and pulled him to Kroos, then forced him down to his knees. It didn't take much effort to push Joel's face into Kroos' crack. Joel gagged and tried to pull away.
"Suit yerself" Arn looked at Mort and Joe, who was pressing himself into Kroos, wedging him in place "but the longer ya wait, the more that shit's gonna burn yer balls. And the longer we all gotta wait" he looked at the guys on stage, or rather their crotches "and the longer they wait the hornier they gonna get. They get too horny, they're gonna come the kid on his knees next."
There was a protest from both Kroos and Joel, but after a while Joel leaned forward and found the end of the buttplug with his chin. Kroos gave a moan as it pushed deeper into him. Eventually Joel found the small hole on the plug's base, where a cord or ring would be attached, and found he could grab it with his teeth. He grimaced and dug into the plastic, more for show than anything. It wasn't like he had never had his face so close to Kroos' hole; he just did not want to make it look like something he could do with both hands tied behind his back.
With Joel's tugging and Kroos' squeezing, it took a few minutes for the fat middle to be tugged free of Kroos' sphincter. And when it had passed that point, it took a slight yank from Joel to pull the whole thing free. Joel knelt there with it in his mouth, looking the completely whipped dog. He felt the the complete perv, all eyes on him. A great chunk of the guilt he felt for staging this whole sick thing dropped from his shoulders as he dropped the greasy plug to the floor, his penance accomplished.
"Good boy I knew you could do it" Arn patted him on the head, making the effect complete. He picked up the plug from the ground and helped Joel to his feet. Joel's cock was hard and ready for the next part of his penance.
Arn guided Joel's crotch to Kroos' ass until his cock was lined up with Kroos' swollen strectched hole. Because his arms were still tied, Joel could do nothing but stand there helpless, feeling the head of his cock make contact with the slimy puckering hole.
"Okay gentlemen" Mort looked around "you came here tonight to see this man get his just deserts as it were. You want to see justice done, and we could not think of anything more... satisfying" looking at their various states of arousal "than seeing Mister Kramer here getting buttfucked for everyone to see" he took a step back, nodding towards Mister Johnson/Jones at the control panel "enjoy the show."
He nodded at Arn who grabbed Joel by the hips giving him a slight nudge. As he did, Joel's swollen cockhead pushed against Kroos' hole and stretching it wide, pushed in. Both Joel and Kroos could shout or protest, but he was in. Joel was in Kroos' ass, for everyone to see. And there was nothing either of them could do about it.
Between the pain coming from his stinging balls, and the pressure on his also-stinging stretched cock, Joel could only stand there, not moving a muscle, waiting for the overwhelming sensations to subside. So when Arn gave his butt a hard slap, Joel almost passed out, but his cock lunged a good three inches further into Kroos, and Kroos would have screamed with the sudden invasion had his face not been buried in Bernan's crotch.
Several of the guys, with Brian and his Y friend at the front, came closer to see this for themselves. At first they suspected there would be some faked simulation of fucking, but elbowing Mister Doughboy and his disposable camera out of the way, they could see Joel's cock was indeed buried deep in Kroos' hairy crack. Matt was so blown away, he barely felt "Rick"'s hand wedging itself beneath his towel. By the time he noticed that Arn guy return with a weightbelt from a locker, he panicked as that hand was slowly masturbating him.
Arn flipped the belt over his shoulder as he picked up that still greased buttplug and brought it towards Joel's clenching ass.
"Hey, not that!" from Bigfoot John "not the kid!"
"He needs some encouragement, don't ya kid!" and before Rick or Brian could stop him, Arn pressed the end against Joel's unprepared hole. Joel gasped and plunged deep into Kroos trying to get away from the invasion. But Arn gave it a slow steady push and before Joel could squeeze tight the wide middle had slid past his sphincter. Arn almost lost his balance when it popped in, Joel's earlier greased butt was helping a great deal, unknown to Arn.
Mort noticed Mister Johnson/Jones directing one of the cameramen to get a better closeup of Joel's plugged ass as it clenched forward and back, his tortured cock trapped deep in Kroos. But Arn elbowed the camcorder to the side, pulled the belt off his shoulder and before anyone could react, brought it down hard against Joel's butt! Joel screamed and lunged forward again, his cock slamming itself into Kroos' ass to the roots. Again and again Arn swatted him in the ass, not as hard, keeping Joel fully buried in Kroos. But each time was enough to cause him to clench his ass muscles, tightening the plug inside him as he jerked forward, fucking Kroos deeper and deeper. Arn kept up the rhythm, in effect directing Joel's thrusts into Kroos again and again. When Joel started to whimper with either the pain or the approaching climax, Mort told Arn to knock it off. By that point Joel's pelvic thrusts were coming automatically, his hips jerking again and again, his tightening balls lifting and clenching in spite of the gel. Joel could do nothing to lean forward or brace himself against Kroos' back, his arms pinned behind him, his back muscles flexing with each thrust as he tried to keep his balance.
Joel closed his eyes, hoping now to bring this humiliation to an end. The Viagra was keeping his cock rock-hard in spite of the pain, and the gel-slick muscles flexing inside Kroos' ass were having an unbelievable effect on Joel's cock but no matter how hard he thrust he could not get closer to cumming. He feared all the activities of the day may have drained him and now he could not finish if his life depended on it. And the harder he thrust the more his orgasm eluded him. Five, six maybe ten minutes he stood there, his hips pistoning his fat cock again and again into Kroos, each thrust pushing the plug against his knob, fearing this must be as painful to Kroos as it was to him.
When he felt like his cock was going to be rubbed raw and his ass could not take the fullness any longer he let himself glance at his teammates, seeing here and there the effect his show was having on them. His gaze shifted to that Mister Bigfoot behind Moose and Doug, his long cock hard and red between the two butts. Joel told himself he was doing that, he was making his hard from watching his brutal fucking. That and rubbing his hand against Moose's and Doug's buttcheeks in tandem. Joel managed to catch Moose's eye, nodding at his friend's constant gropes. Moose looked at him, what? Joel gestured at Bigfoot's cock. Finally Moose got the idea and let his hand rub against the guy's cock and balls in return. That was all it took to cause a jump or two from his cock, the slit beading with a great deal of pre-cum. Moose raised a finger to the goo, and started to smear it over the guy's cock. At first Bigfoot pulled back, not expecting this expert contact with his cock. But when he heard Moose whisper something, he leaned forward into Moose's hand, and let him start to jack his cock as only Moose could. As Joel was hoping, it did not take more than a few moments before the guy was bucking his hips in time to Moose's hand and while Joel concentrated, the guy's cock swelled up and exploded, shooting a long thick rope of cum to the floor. Joel sped up his thrusts into Kroos, the sight of the guy's orgasm starting to push him over the top. When Joel finally started blasting a numbed painful load deep into Kroos, he was too far gone to be aware of it.
It was not until he felt Arn's hands on his waist pulling him away from Kroos' ass did he look down at his cock sliding free of Kroos' still open hole. His cock looked like it was rubbed raw it was so red, but the stickiness at his slit was white and only meant one thing. He thought he heard cheering and then he blacked out.
Kroos was about to lose his balance when he heard Joel behind him start to scream. He tried to pull away when he felt that hot wet feeling start to flush his bowels. Joel was cumming inside him and as he did the itching tingling of the green goo began to ease slightly. As least inside his guts it did; his cock continued to swell and burn, every punch to his prostate making it throb painfully.
But when Joel pulled out, and the cold air hit his still open hole Kroos felt like someone jabbed him with a chunk of ice. He was almost starting to topple when Bernan grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back into his crotch. Kroos lifted his arms and wrapped them around his beefy thighs, holding on for dear life. Kroos was not surprised with the hard lump pressed against his left cheek, noting how aroused Joe let himself get watching this brutal fucking.
Bernan helped him to straighten up, and gradually get his feet back on the cool floor. Kroos' knees were stabbing pain, supporting his significant weight the whole time on the hard wooden bench. He bent down to rub some circulation back into legs, hearing some commotion coming from the seating area as he did. But all Kroos could think about was forcing some feeling back into his legs, distracting his mind from the constant throbbing coming from his asshole and his cock. By this point his trussed scrotum was all but numb. He looked down and his balls were discolored with the laces, so he reached down and started to untie the wet knots, not caring if anyone tried to stop him. No one did.
Instead, he looked up and Joe and Mort were coming to help him. As soon as the shoe was untied from his scrotum, and the blood started to return to his tortured balls he felt himself forced down to a kneeling position on the floor. He was on his knees barely ten seconds before someone's crotch was pushed into his face. He did not have time to see who it was, but a wet sticky cock was pointed at his mouth. Without further prompting, Kroos opened his mouth and that penis was against his tongue. He tasted what could only be semen, oozing from the softening cock!
"Shit he really does suck dick huh?" from a voice behind him. Kroos guessed it was one of the guys from the Y, unless someone was disguising their voice. Not a bad idea he thought.
"Man, I wish I woulda known that ages ago" from a younger voice, maybe Brian?
"Why? So he could blow ya?" that was Matt, no mistake.
"No shit!"
"Shit it ain't like he's goin nowhere."
"Y'mean...?"
"Go on" from Matt again "the mexican's already shot his load" Matt came up to Bernan "c'mon let Br-I mean Bruno here get a shot at the doc."
"Why don't you do it?" Brian twisted free of Matt's pushing, trying to trade places "you the one likes gettin yer dick sucked!"
"What's that supposed to--" Matt broke free and as fast was grabbing Brian again, hoping to get him to shut up before he spilled the beans in front of the whole group.
"How's it feel to clean the cum off every guy's dick?" Mort lifted Kroos' chin so he could see Mort's expression "cause that what you're gonna do! >From now on any dude you make lose their load gonna -- "
"Like this guy here?" the Rick guy pointed "Bigfoot here couldn't hold it" hoping the attention would embarrass him enough to force a costume change.
"Come here!" yelled Arn, still trying to keep his pants up now that Joel and his belt had left for the shower area "yeah you!"
"Why?" John Bigfoot waddled over in those too-large borrowed shoes "I commit some crime?"
"You cum easy huh?" Arn directed him towards Kroos kneeling on the floor "but now the coach here hasta do his duty, ain't that right?"
"What duty?" from both Kroos and John.
"Clean off that dick" Arn barked, steering John in front of Kroos, his pants drooping in the process "get that slime off this dude's cock now you made him blow his load with your little fuck show --"
"But -- "
"Do it!"
John folded his arms over his chest as he felt that warm mouth engulf his shrinking cock. When he felt Kroos' tongue start to twist over and around his sensitive flesh, he tried to pull out, but felt the front of Arn's uniform press against his back. His bare ass had to feel that impressive lump the way Arn was leaning forward.
"Yeah clean it good, clean every last drop from this poor guy's cock, making him cum like that, watching you take a dick up your butt, the poor slob just unleashed and now y'gonna make it up to him."
Kroos could not ask what he meant with his mouth full of softening cock. But when he heard Arn's next comment he knew things were getting serious.
"And to show him you're sorry, and show him and everyone what a good cocksucker you are, ya gotta get this dude hard again. Like now!"
"But..." John tried to protest "but... man I just came!"
"Then the coach here gotta real challenge like" Arn pressed his crotch into John's bare ass, his pants now around legs, the filling jockstrap finding a home in the guy's warm crack "do it! Let's see ya get busy!"
Kroos felt the dick in his mouth shrivel to almost nothing with the initial shock. But after a few minutes of expert sucking, Kroos knowing and finding every sensitive area of penile anatomy, John's dick started a gradual swelling in the vacuum of Kroos' suctioning.
"Dude's fuckin gettin boned again!" Matt looked over "damn!"
"Looks like we got us a live one" Bernan came closer to see what was pistoning in and out of Kroos' mouth now "so Bigfoot y'useta havin a dude's mouth on your dick?"
"Fuck..." John Bigfoot looked down at his sensitive dick sliding in and out of Kroos' mouth. He grabbed Kroos by the ears and started forcing it deeper, seeing how much of his dick Kroos could take. All seven-plus inches started going deep into Kroos, deep enough to start easing down his throat.
"Daaaaamn" Brian came over to Kroos' side, his hard shiny dick rubbing again his shoulder "Kroos' -- I mean Chris here's like deep throating the dude!" his own cock starting a slow pumping against Kroos' hairy deltoid "hurry up dude I wanna piece of that throat."
"Hey kid!" Bigfoot felt his cock deep in Kroos' throat and Brian's cock dangerously close to his hip "keep that dick away from my butt!"
"Thought y'were interested?" Arn reached down and started playing with Bigfoot's ass "nice hard jock cock up ya?"
"Your turn!" Bigfoot pulled out of Kroos' throat. A few comments broke the nervous silence when they saw what Kroos had been dealing with. John was sporting a good eight inches of hard circumcized cock, pointing out and down to his right, a curved hose of shiny meat "y'wanna stick that is somebody, stick it in the doc -- coach whatever -- stick it in him. The kid got'm nice and ready for that" looking at the shiny pole next to him, almost as long as his own.
"Hey do not think you are going -- " Kroos raised his head, looking at Brian.
"Well?" Arn and John asked almost at the same time "well kid, up t'you!"
"Y'mean you expect me to..." Klu looked down at Kroos "y'mean he'll let me..."
"He ain't lettin ya" Arn looked at Kroos "he's beggin ya, right... coach?"
"What?"
"Go on. Beg the kid here. Beg him t'fuck yer stretched hole!"
"No I will not do -- "
But Arn's belt came down with a loud crack on Kroos' ass. Kroos jerked and screamed. Had Kroos still been sucking that John's dick he might have chomped it off!
"Do it! Beg him!"
"Okay okay!" Kroos tried to yank the belt away from Arn, but his hands were too greasy "but no more whipping! Okay, Br- I mean kid, I am begging you to... fuck me in the ass with your... cock..."
"Furreal! Sweeeeet!" and Brian was moving into position fast when he caught Matt and everyone looking at him. Suddenly he remembered where he was, where the cameras were. He covered himself fast, his actions hanging a big flashing sign around his neck: homo pervert! He was about to fade into the shadows when John said,
"What's the matter? Losing your nerve?"
"Shit..." Brian looked at him "y'don't really expect me to..."
"C'mere" John put his arm around Brian's waist, directing him behind Kroos.
Arn saw their movement and pulled Kroos' head down and into his crotch, making sure he did not see what was coming "just like this..." and John directed his cock into Kroos' crack "see?" and holding Brian next to him, started a slow pressing into Kroos' ass. Kroos moaned and tried to straighten up but Arn's strong arms kept him bent over "man..." John felt the green goo start to hit the sensitive areas of his cock as he rammed it home "daaamn..."
"What's wrong?" Brian was getting a ring-side seat of the action, his cock bobbing up and down seeing Kroos' ass getting penetrated right in front of him.
"Nothing..." John eased the length of his cock back and out of Kroos' loosened hole "now you."
"What? I mean now?"
"No time like the present."
"But don't ya wanna...?"
"We can take turns" Bigfoot looked at him "like tag team. You ever tag team before?" he looked into Brian's eyes and whispered "milt?" as Brian almost fell on his ass. Before he broke free, John had directed Brian's crotch to replace his and before he could deal with the shock of this total stranger knowing about something he could not know, he had the new shock of his tight dickhead sliding into the greased hole of Kroos' lubed hairy ass. He was deep and thrusting before he knew what he was doing. He would have kept going and deposited his week's worth of jizz into that hot burning chute had John not pulled his hips away from Kroos' sweaty backside, and replaced Brian's throbbing hardon with his own
Kroos was doubled over, his hips supported by John's hands and his shoulders held by Arn. And there was first one then a second dick deep fucking his ass, his prostate taking a major pounding over and over. In spite of everything, all the abuse in the last twenty-four hours, Kroos started to feel himself responding to the near-incessant pressure there, his own cock swollen and bouncing even though he knew the Viagra should be wearing off by now. No, something else was taking over; all this constant stimulation was starting to overcome any discomfort or distraction going on around him. He was sliding into a familiar territory, the sexual tension building and growing whether he wanted it or not. And as it did, he closed his eyes, but could still see the room around him, see the aroused bodies around him, like glowing red neon signs in the gloom, seeing how turned on these guys were by all of this. Kroos kept his eyes closed, concentrating on the images unfurling before him.
Kroos was only aware of someone's orgasm deep inside him as his prostate felt the hot fluid ejecting inside him, the itchy burning lessening with the semen diluting the gel inside him, causing him to become even more turned on by everything going on now.
Brian leaned back, his spasming pole still buried deep in Kroos' furry ass, the camera coming around his side to see him pull out. He wanted to stay in there, feeling the cum swish around his cockhead and maybe go for seconds but John was in his ear,
"Okay Bruno, switch!"
"Dude like lemme just!" his cock pistoning on auto-pilot, squeezing the last drop from him.
Mister Bigfoot almost yanked Brian off-balance in his hurry to line up his shiny hard foot-long at Kroos' ass.
"Wait!" Mort looked around " somebody else should get a turn" looking at Moose in particular. Moose made a point of anywhere else, hoping someone, anyone! would jump into the fray. When no one did, he grumbled,
"Yeah right me? No, let that dude with the camera get his rocks off" pointing at Mister Doughboy "he probably hasn't gotten any action in years" and chuckles broke out from the stage as well as the folding chair crowd. Even the guy at the console could not keep a straight face.
"Moo-Moondawg you sure you don't want to get back -- I mean get your turn?" Mort egged him on when the laughing stopped. John used the distraction to position himself behind and then inside Kroos' ass, only Arn noticing and giving him a curious, pissed look.
"Don't worry cuzz" Moose narrowed his eyes, betraying him "I got other plans" and backed up almost as far as the shower room doorway. As he did he could not help but notice another guy he remembered getting friendly with Brian and Matt earlier sidle back towards him as well. This was that dude in his early forties, reddish blond hair fighting a losing battle with a receding hairline. He was one of the few dudes to be wearing glasses through the entire evening, so Moose assumed he was missing most of the action, between the shower fog earlier and the locker area beyond his sight.
But Moose gave him a once-over when he oozed up next to him. The dude was not in bad shape for his age, not too lean, not too big. But that washboard ab look the basketball/nautilus crowd was currently parading around everywhere had eluded him for most of his life. What did catch Moose's eye was the dude's full chest, dominated by two large nipples as bright pink as the circumsized cockhead Moose vaguely remembered from the showers earlier. Moose had been glancing over at him from time to time, knowing it was sooner rather than later the dude was going to loose that skimpy towel, having to use both hands to keep it around his firm belly. Now that the guy was lockin in him instead of Matt or Brian, Moose had to rethink all the looks he kept giving the guy, fearing the dude had interpreted them as a green light or some shit. Moose shrugged and let him press against him, a small inconvenience compared to the four-ring circus going on around him. And it kept Doug in the clear as well. But Moose's eyes returned again and again to his cousin, fearing the disintegrating script would betray him sooner or later.
Gil return to the seating area, his shorts stained with his supposed victory, expecting Chuck and then the rest to clap him on the shoulders and shake his hand. He was almost pissed to see his chair next to Chuck taken by some fat kid! Damn, he did not go through with all of this only to have Chuck shrug his shoulders and thumb at the back row! He found the empty seat at the end of the second row, next to some dark-haired guy sitting with his hand in his lap. Gil sat down and almost jumped back up when the dude's right hand beelined for his wet dirty crotch. If he thought Gil would return the favor the dude was trippin!
But it wasn't long before the guy grabbed Gil's hand and forced it down into his lap, the white briefs damp and stained with his pre-cum. As soon as Gil's wrist was rubbing against his crotch, that guy's short mushroom-headed cock started to swell again. Twice Gil tried to pull away and each time the guy grabbed his hand and brought it back. When the stocky muscular guy in the next chair started making noises about the struggle, threatening to bring more attention their way, Gil finally relented, his left wrist almost hovering over the fat head. And when the dude's right hand -- palm side down for crying crissakes! -- started bringing a third erection from Gil's cock, Gil sat there as quiet as a mouse, fearing they would make him get up on that damn stage again. When Chuck turned around and saw his condition he smirked at him and shook his head, then returned his attention to his predicament.
Nothing Chuck enjoyed more than fucking with his bud, and making him get up on that fucking stage after making him blow his nut right there in front of everyone was a year's worth of taunts and snide comments. Man, how stupid was that! with the whole world seeing you could not control your dick, and not one chick in sight! Talk about the lowest of the low, he smirked. Never mind he was sitting there, his own goods on display, hard and even dripping a bit, his left hand now in the lap of some dumbass highschool kid.
And from the way the kid was squirming around, he knew he could be sending him up on that stage next, his cum-soaked undies making him the next laughing-stock.
But this big-dicked mexican to his right was a growing major concern. Right now everything depended on that dude two seats down making Mongo-Dick here shoot his load before the bastard got Chuck's nuts even more worked up.
The two loads he emptied into that Janice chick last night were not enough to keep him from getting all boned and horny now. And this whole sick stage rape show was not something he found a turn-on. Was it? He looked down at his cock, and then up and down his front row, a bit amazed how much everyone was actually getting into this. Even if some camera was in the way half the fuckin time. Not that he was angling for a up-close view of that big hairy ape getting his ass split open or anything, mind you. If he was looking to see someone get it up the ass it would not be that big slob. Maybe that kid with the fucking huge shoulders he was fucking with back on the road, the one that tricked him out here. Yeah, now that would be something worth seeing. Fuckin highschool jerk bent over the bench, with Chuck's eight-incher buried up his chute. That brought a spasm to his cock, a burp of pre-cum to the stretched piss-slit. And damn, if the mexican didn't pick up on it, his knuckles smearing it up and down his shaft. Fuck, another coupla minutes of this and he would be in the same cum-stained shit as that horndog Gil!
He turned his head to the other side, seeing this new kid with his eyes screwed shut, his breathing short and ragged. Chuck looked down and saw the front of the kid's briefs getting almost shiny with his juices. Bingo! he thought. Get this kid to nut and he's off the hook. Again.
With his first and second knuckle he managed to burrow into the kid's fly and find the end of his nice cut cock pointing down his leg. The kid's eyes went to Chuck, a snide smile on his face as the slimy cockhead finally popped through the opening.
"Dude I knew you want my dick sooner or later..."
"Gonna make ya join yer buddies up there" Chuck whispered back.
"Yeah right..." Carl looked at him, then to Huey "think yer man enough?"
"Get ready to burp some fuckjuice kid" and Chuck squeezed Carl's cock between the second and third knuckles, trying for a steady up and down motion.
"Y'want my jizz yer gonna hafta blow me!" Carl said loud enough for half the row to hear "that pussy hand ain't shit.."
"Somebody's goin up there next kid" Chuck whispered "who's it gonna be?"
Carl leaned back in his chair, taunting Chuck to try to make him cum. He was hoping the redneck could jack his meat for a while and nothing would happen. His mouth however.. shit that would bring out a load. Especially with his everyone! Dude, how sweet to have some dickhead suck yer joint and no one can stop it! Too fuckin hot! Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Baby Huey's little kid dick, straining to stretch his bad choice of underwear in spite of the fact Carl was barely touching him. Up to this point he had been using Huey's crotch more as an armrest than anything, not wanting to draw attention to his unfortunate shortcoming. Now Huey was starting to get all horny like, inspite of Carl's best intentions. Shit, maybe the kid was all boned because it was his hand, Carl's hand! on his dick! What weird can of worms did he open?
Chuck's hand gave another push to the fly of Carl's boxers and before he knew it, his swollen cock was full out of the opening. Chuck brought the back of his hand to his mouth, spitting and licking it, maybe even smelling dick on his hand a bit, and before Carl could stop him, the slippery knuckles were rubbing hard and fast on the kid's cock. Carl hissed and twisted, thrusting his cock up to meet Chuck's strokes in spite of his better judgement. Still not a blowjob but dangerously close.
Carl looked up to the stage just as Brian was pulling an amazing length of shiny cock from Kroos' ass, turning his head back to Carl? the cameras? and winking.
"Way t'go, one for the Miners!" Sal shouted almost by accident. There was a great deal of laughter and elbowing from the seats, but the commado guy to his right grabbed Sal's cock hard and that brought a cough and then silence.
"Shut yer mouth Sal" Carl whispered over Huey "don't be stirrin up the crappers okay?"
But Carl was feeling those knuckles start to have a growing effect on his shaft. Okay maybe if he wasn't careful, he might get into having some jerk hurting his dick. In a sick masochistic way he might almost let this get his nut. But not like this, he prayed.
So Carl sat there, watching Brian grab his towel and step off-stage. When he made his way back towards the group he gave a hi-five to Sal then looked around for a seat. Mister Johnson/Jones was right behind him, his attention like a spotlight focusing on the group.
But the timing could not have been worse. Jimmy gave a shudder and a grunt and Carl felt a blast of cum hit the back of his hand. He quickly covered the spreading stain with his big paw, hoping Mister Johnson/Jones would not see it.
Jimmy panicked, unable to stop his cock from pumping out several week's worth of cum in spite of his best efforts to stop it. He looked down and his cock would not stop erupting, and damn! that Mister was heading over! With both hands, he tried to shove Carl's away so he could cover himself in time but now his eyes met Mister Johnson/Jones'. He felt like a deer in the headlight. He was dead meat!
Carl looked down at the poor shit, knowing what his teammate would have to face. Then it hit him like a 220 volt short between his eyes! Fuck would it work?
Will quickly smeared as much of Huey's cum onto his own cock as he could, jumping to his feet.
"Whadda FUCK!" he yelled glaring at the blond redneck jerk next to him "now y'made me cream too ya faggot!"
"Couldn't hold it could you?" Mister Johnson/Jones turned to Carl, who was trying to distract him from Baby Huey as much as he could.
"Fuckin bullshit!" Chuck yelled as well "you know I ain't--"
"First yer little mexican punk now me!" Carl's act was convincing for the volume if nothing else. If anyone could play the indignant victim, it was Carl. He had this one down to an art.
"You know the agreement" Mister Johnson/Jones' eyes were all over Carl's crotch, then to Chuck's hand sticky with the evidence. And Jimmy sat there, knowing his red face was gonna betray him any second. But Mister Johnson/Jones looked at Chuck,
"Looks like you have a real skill there, eh?"
"Leave me outa this" Chuck looked around at the rest of the group "the kid's lying!"
"Y'callin my teammate a liar?" Sal was all the way over Jimmy, his fists going for Chuck "nobody calls a Miner a liar!"
"Fuckin right" Juan joined in, elbowing Chuck hard "y'play with fire y'get burned."
"What kinda crack -- " Chuck spun around to face Juan.
"First yer little mexican amigo, now this poor victim of a kid" Juan was talking more to Mister Johnson/Jones than Chuck "y'sure as hell can't keep yer hands off our dicks" looking down into his own crotch "like right here too, right?"
But Chuck started using his hands for something else, taking a couple of fast swings at Juan. He connected once with a chin before Juan started swinging back. It would have turned into a full-blown fight but Chuck found himself incapacitated by the two large bulls behind him, that big blond dude and his bigger black friend. Jerry was on him as well, pinning Chuck's right arm against him, almost crushing Carl in the process. Mister Johnson/Jones made a few quick signals to the control board before turning his attention back to the group.
"Too bad all this sexual tension cannot be used for something more..." he looked at Chuck then at Juan again "more... productive."
"And educational" from Juan, of all people.
"Yes..." Mister Johnson/Jones looked at Juan's thick tube lying like a vacuum hose against his leg "you."
"Me?" Juan looked at the group "what about me?"
"Come with me" Mister Johson/Jones started for the stage "and bring your friends" indicating Chuck, and of course Carl. Carl looked at Baby Huey as he started to stand, then felt a hand behind him pulling him back into his seat.
"I'm keepin my ass right here" Chuck sat down, folding his arms defiant "don't even think about it" and shook his head with something like distain when he saw Juan grab his pants off the floor "it's the cumrag kid here ya want!"
Mister Johnson/Jones gave Jimmy a look, seeing him almost have a heart attack right then and then. Carl stepped into the line of fire,
"It's me ya want!"
"Normally yes" Mister Johnson Jones could not keep his eyes off Juan, and now he was standing, the situation was more than he expected "b-b-but I must b-b-break our rule... this time. Sit down."
"With pleasure" Chuck settled lower in his seat.
"Not you" Mister Johnson/Jones spun at him "you seem to be the center of the activity back here. As long as you are sitting with the group, it appears no one can get any peace or enjoy the show as intended. So I..." he narrowed his eyes "must... insist."
"But..." Chuck felt things sliding beneath him "Gil?" he turned to his friend for help. But when he saw Gil just shrug he knew the worm had turned. He turned back to Mister Johson/Jones hoping to stall for time.
"If y'know what's good for ya, you'll join the party" Chuck heard behind him "unless y'want that white Saturn of yours put through the computer... again" and before Chuck could turn to glare at the huge black dude behind him he heard low and deadly "Mister... Stalgren."
"What the fuck?" Chuck wheeled around to glare at the black giant "you tellin me-- "
"Get yer ass up there or we -- I run those plates again."
"What the fuck are..." Chuck lowered his voice looking at him and his big blond friend in a alarming new light "cops?" he dared not even whisper the word just mouthed it "here? What the shit--"
"Do it Stalgren" Willis did his best to look official and threatening. The fact that he was sitting there wearing nothing but white jockeys showing hard dick did very little to negate the effect.
"Fuck... not that..." Chuck slid to his feet, barely stopping to grab his clothes stuffed beneath his chair. He stood there looking at Willis, then at Carl. Damn, they're all in it together! Bet even the cop's a faggot, he thought. What the fuck did I get myself into! Damn all of them, especially that kid in the car!
Chuck was about to bolt for the door when Mister Smith materialzed like a stage magician next to him. Fuck the alarm system, he thought, I'm out the back door of the place, Gil or no Gil!
"Come with us" Mister Smith purred "you too" he looked at Carl.
"But... I mean... I" Carl looked at the two guys behind him with a certain desperation. If they were cops they had to intervene! Mister Smith cleared his throat,
"You would rather Jimmy take your place?"
"He ain't goin up on that stage you know that..." Carl looked at him, hoping those two hulks behind him would bring this whole thing down around their ears any time now. Big Hank stood up on cue.
"We can work this out okay?" he looked at Mister Smith "give us time to talk okay?"
"Very well..." Mister Smith found his voice after a few moments of sizing up the three of them. He did not want trouble, not at this critical stage "we will discuss this later" and stood there looking at Chuck.
"Like they said, 'later'" and Chuck started to sit back down.
"We weren't talking about you man" Big Hank pushed his shoulders forward "you heard the man -- "
"But..." Chuck made the mistake of turning to look at Willis. As soon as he saw the expression he knew he would never make it to the door in time. But maybe there was another way out? A back door? Shit, he could overpower this smith guy once they were alone.
"Well?" Willis looked at Chuck then Mister Smith.
"Shit okay I'm goin..." Chuck grabbed his clothes and with one last glare at Carl walked towards the stage door with the two misters.
"Y'almost sabotaged the whole game, kid" Willis leaned forward to Jimmy.
"Shit..." he whispered back "I'm sorry I just -- "
"Get yer ass back here where I can keep my eye on ya" Willis grabbed his shoulder "so ya don't screw up any more."
Jimmy was only too glad to vacate the front row, hoping to resume his hiding place in the corner again, but Willis gave a sharp elbow to the guy next to him, the football player from South,
"Move yer ass!"
"But..." Stan panicked, thinking he would have to go up to the front row, or worse.
"Y'been playin with my meat long enough" Willis smirked "now move!" almost forcing Stan to his feet. Of course Stan's white briefs were covered with his big paws in a split second as he looked around for some place to sit. When Willis did point to the empty chairs in the front row, Stan felt like he'd been kicked in the groin.
"Right here where ya can't get into any more trouble" Willis patted the vacant seat to his right. Jimmy sat down slowly, the stickiness of his shorts meeting the cooling metal in the nastiest way. He stole a glance at Willis' bulge, not covered with anyone's hand. Oh god, please don't make me have to put my hand-- and before he could finish the thought, Willis gave a short cough, nodding at his crotch. Baby Huey felt his balls shrink to nothing, his gut churning like he just inhaled forty sliders washed down by a gallon of spoiled milk.