Twelve Days to Christmas

This is my first submission and it probably could be devided into its eight chapters. Fit in authoritarian. Merry Chistmas, Lynch.um

This story details explicit gay sex between men and teens. If you find this kind of thing distasteful, or if you are underage where ever you live, then stop reading this now, and delete this file. The story is completely fictional, Darwin aint that bad. The author does not condone or encourage any of the acts contained herein.

Twelve Days to Christmas

Ch 1 Territory Touch

Darwin, Australia, it is twelve days before Christmas. It is the "troppo season" or the build-up to the wet, when 35C heat and 110% humidity make men go crazy. I am working on a building site: concrete forming and driving plant. The out door work has to be finished by Christmas, about which time the rains usually brake. I fly out of this sweaty-armpit of a city on Christmas day. Extreme parsimony and the good wages should clear most of the debts left from my business crash. Till then, like the previous three months, I will work sixteen hours a day, eat junk food and sleep in this dump.

The 'dump' is a men's boarding house. About half a dozen blokes could be here at any one time, there is a big turnover. Some are itinerate workers like me, some old drunks and some are youths who are onto: the dole, drink, drugs, dealing and testosterone mayhem. Don't think I'm a wowser. I have gone on the dole and surfed, for example, but I got surf, sun and sex with my board buddies. These guys just hang around this slum smoking, drinking and probably injecting. Their ring leader, Nick, is the other protagonist in this story. He is their leader because he is more daring, agro and noisier than the others.

You might get the idea that I don't like Nick and you'd be right. Not because he is an indolent druggie. I get on well with most of the kids round the house. With Nick my first objection relates to his mouth. Not foul language, fucking Jesus, I work on a building site. Rather Nick opinions, which he monotonously preaches, are misogynist, racist and homo-phobic. Then there the fact that he is from Russia or some like place. Again understand that his ethnic difference is a virtue to me. Nick has soft Slav looks, straight, blond hair which he wears long in a pony tail and big, sky blue eyes. He avoids the sun and has the whitest of complexions. He has a small goatee beard that you can hardly see because the white hair is indistinguishable from his white countenance. He is still under twenty so his dissipate lifestyle has yet to blemish his youthful freshness, his lithe reflexes and athletic speed. His accent is an interesting mix of Aussie drawl and East European gravel. The problem is he doesn't quite get it, the life style, the sense of humour, despite his years in Australia.

I will give you an example of the latter problem. Today is Sunday and I actually have the afternoon off. I am in the large, lawned backyard of the rendered two-story bungalow, that is my temporary home, playing Territory Touch with five other residents. The Northern Territory version of the game of rugby touch football has the usual rules: must pass backwards, can kick but must catch the ball on the full (up-and-under) and must stop when touched. The territory variation comes from a concession to the climate in that you only wear a pair of shorts and have to be tapped on these to be 'touched'. Of the three blokes on my side, I wear a pair of cutoffs, Geoff, another worker, wears floppy jogging duds while a weedy lad Johnny, oblivious to the irony, weirs a pair of superman boxers. Two of the guys on the other team, Wayne and Allen, have similar shorts but Nick wears a skimpy pair of red briefs.

Now you might think that if anyone is enjoying him doing this it would be me and that is true. But showing me his long, thin, white bod with his cock and balls ready to flop out any moment is not why he wears them. He figures it gives him an advantage in the game so he uses it.

As I'm not complaining and his mates say nothing, every thing is fine; until Nick and I collide. Nick tries an up-and-under while I am coming at him fast in defense. Apart from my momentum the main reason our collision is so dramatic is because Nick is greased up with copious sun lotion he needs to keep his skin albino white. I try to stop after he kicks but our feet connect and as we go down my right hand and arm slide down his slim but slimy chest and stomach ending up tangled in the underdaks. I am restrained and don't fondle his jewels or anything like that.

But Nick losses it. I concede the try(score) though I reckon he never would have caught the ball. Still Nick goes on, turning on his team-mates who want to get on with the game. In the end even his henchmen are laughing at him because he is standing in the middle of the yard holding his ruined undies up with one hand, gesticulating with the other, uttering foreign obscenities no one can understand. The game collapses but I go on mischievously arguing, enjoying regular glimpses of bum crack and blond pubes he flashes like a stripper at a tease club.

The game has a couple of consequences that deserve explaining. First Nick targets me as an adversary, a rival to controlling his peers. This is silly because while I enjoy interacting with him and the others boys when they were playing or skylarking I am a decade older that all of them, am hardly ever at home and will be gone in less than a fortnight. Second, after months of just work the afternoon has re-established the white noise of my suppressed sexual libido and the stirring of gonads or if you like, made me horny. Apart from wanking and a few brief, incomplete encounters in beats, I have had fuck all since I arrived in Darwin three months ago. I go out that night to a nightclub but end up with drinking a lot but nothing else.

Monday morning, on site, I am slightly hung over but that just made it more difficult to concentrate on the job and the other things I thought about only made me hornier than ever. One of the young electrician's balls dropped out of his nickers when he reached up to do a fitting. I am on the plant at the time working the back end. I got such a hard-on that I had to wank-off in the pota-loo, but the cuming felt more like the relief after a much needed bog then an orgasm. Like every other night for months I am home late, eat takeaway and sleep in a pool of my sweat to get through my eleventh day till I ride Santa's slay out of here.

*************** There is no doubt that the Sunday's game is the provocation of what happened on Tuesday evening, the tenth day before Christmas. I'm sitting in the upstairs lounge room of the boarding house having just got home from work and am eating some take-away chicken. Nick is with me, inebriated, the first time I have seen him since Sunday. Though late in the evening, the oppressive humidity has not abated. Tired as I am, my sleep under the noisy ceiling fan will be fitful.

When describing why I don't like Nick I mentioned he is sexist, bigoted and a gay basher. The last of these I find particularly irritating and when he makes it personal a bit of troppo tension is bound to explode. I finish the meal and am sucking on the last of my beer when Nick takes a swig of the beer I have given him and says:

"Ya a poofter aren't ya? A Poogabber?" I understand what brought this on but now I am tired and furious. I do not trumpet that I preferred men but I am no closet queen either. What can I do? His too 'out of it' to just hit. What he says next spurs me from my troppo torpor:

"Ya'd like to fuck me wouldn't ya?" That sounds like an invitation and I truthfully reply:

"Yes!" It is true that I do not like Nick, in fact I probably detest him but that does not mean I do not think he is sexy.

Nicks reaction to my affirmative response is as startling as it is ridiculous. He staggers to his feet and grasps a pair of paper scissors from a nearby table. Immediately I'm on my feet and across to met him. I grab the scissors he has in his right hand with my left and twist them free, while I deliver a firm right fist to his chest. Nick falls back on the couch in a slouched posture wringing one hand and rubbing his ribcage with the other, spluttering for breath.

When I say Nicks reaction is ridiculous I need to point out that, while we are both about 190 cm. tall, I am about 20 kilos heavier and that's 'site muscle'. While I am about a decade older I am much fitter and, sober. I look at the blunt scissors in my hand:

"What were ya gunna do with these, poke my eye out, cut my hair?" At the last comment Nick grabs his now disheveled hair and pushes it behind his head and asks with his hint of harsh accent:

"What are you gunna do with them?"

A good question. As the dominant male what am I going to do to assert my troppo rage, my sexual frustration, my adrenaline rush. I lean over Nick holding the scissors. He watchers with a studied indifference. If my adrenaline is saying fight, Nick's isn't saying flight. I snip through the elastic of the shorts he is wearing and rip them down to the bottom seam on the right leg. I immediately cut through the right side of his red underdaks. If I had looked before I cut I would have noticed the bulge swelling in these. Instead I am surprised and have to laugh when the front of the briefs is flipped away by Nick's hard-on. It suits him perfectly: a long, thin, seven inch, uncut stump standing in a near invisible forest of blond pubes.

I take this as my cue. Throwing the scissors aside I unzip the jeans I'd been wearing all day. My meat is busting to get out and rapidly engorges when set free. My shaft is similar to Nick's but on the end of that seven inches is a two-inch wedge shaped head. We pause looking at each other's extant manhood, his pointing perpendicular at the ceiling, mine swinging horizontal like the gantry of a crane. I am so turned on precum juices are slowly drooling from the head's orifice, hanging like chains from a block-and-tackle. It has been so long since my cock has tasted arse, its erection pulsates with my heartbeat. Nick's expression of indifference seems more feigned.

I bend down and grabbed what is left of the shorts with my left hand and fling Nick over in one movement. He is now kneeing with his head buried in the couch, his exposed rump near its edge. The remnants of the shorts and underdaks are around his left knee. The only other piece of clothing he wears, a tank top, has rolled up around his shoulders. I push it over his head. It took his dishevel hair off his back.

My cock and I stand over and survey unexplored territory. Maybe Nick comes from Belo Russia, as his back is milk white, only the rarest of freckles could be seen as blemishes. He is so thin, individual vertebrae ridge the middle of his long back like a mountain range. At his bum this becomes a shallow valley sided by Gluteus not so maximus, covered with bumfluff scrub. The strategic territory to be occupied is all the more obvious, a little magenta knoll in the middle of the valley. I explore the proffered prize with the middle finger of my right hand. It works like an intercom button:

"Ya can't do it!"

A strange response, hardly 'fuck off, leave me alone!' Then I realize it is a practical statement. Nick's shaghole is like the nun's tight proverbial, while my dick, mouth, clothes and the rest of me are cement dry after working with concrete all day. Despite the humidity my sweat is absorbed before it can run. Even that delicious precum on my cock turns an epoxic slurry when I rub it along my shaft.

It seems the worst I am going to give Nick succulent, tight, little, chicken arse is a barearse humiliation. Hardly a win for the dominate....then the thought 'chicken arse' makes me remember: the 'parson's nose'. I'm not partial to them so I hadn't eaten it. The box is near my feet. I find the lump of fatty gristle, push it into his sphincter, squeezing it, working it, in and out with my finger. I use a piece of the meal's wax paper to grease my own member. The remnants of the 'nose' I salvage from Nick's arse to smear around his hole.

All the fartarsing about has merely decreased my sexual entropy to snapping point. I lean over and slap my flat hands firmly onto Nick's shoulders, then literally fall into his arse. Falling forward onto my knees, I force his leg wider apart with my thighs while falling back on my elbows gives my cock the right angle for its anal assault. The fact that I had spread grease around his butt hole means that I don't need an exact bulls-eye, and I am close enough. My dick plunges in, to about half its length before it hits butt's-end. The little arsehole's smug demeanor collapses as he hollers with my impact and writhes as I skewer him to his place.

I'm sorry if this seems long winded. Less than five minutes has elapsed since our altercation. My determination to avenge his gay taunts is now intrinsically linked to the heat of sexual gratification and the insanity of the climate. I start mining the butt's-end with quick hard thrusts and steady withdraws. Each thrust allows another half inch or so of my butt buster to penetrate. My seething indignation and libido are now gaining strength from the very atmosphere that had been oppressing me earlier. RAM I choose some fitting epigrams as I plundered his posterior: RAM "Hey boy, you my hebitch" RAM "My bum chum" RAM "Slut jock " RAM "Catamite", (This brings an "eh" from Nick; which shows he is listening.) RAM "What would you like me to call ya..." RAM ".... in front of ya mates?" RAM "Nicola" RAM "Sheila" RAM

I am no longer tunneling. My cock still batters the butt's end but is buried to its full length. To my balls that are ready to blow their treasures. Nick, groaning with each thrust, lay passive. I pause. It has been so long since my last root I want this to last but as I relax, I look around. I'm bullocking this bloke's butt in the boarding house lounge room. It is a miracle no one has come in before now, especial with all the noise we are making. Besides I have to work tomorrow.

RAM "OK Sheila take this" RAM BAM "Thank yoooo" MAN

My gonads explode: triumphantly pumping into Nick's rectum and ecstatically engulfing my bloodstream. I yell a cry of release, vindication and orgasmic fulfillment.

I relax, sweaty, flat on Nick for a few moments satiation, savouring the warmth and texture of Nick's arse now that I have filled it totally. I pull out. I am still dressed but don't try to stuff my jubilant dick back in my pants as I head for a quick shower and bed. I look back at Nick, who is still where I screwed him and leave with:

"Might butt into you again."

Ch 2 I Need Sleep

I have no idea of the time but I have just been disturbed by the opening of my door. It is the evening after Nick and I had our altercation and I took him in the lounge room. There is a week to Christmas eve, then I'm out of here. Nothing has changed, I am still working two shifts a day. All Darwin is waiting for the rains to break. I fell into bed tonight and the sheet under me is damp, the ceiling fan noisily circulates the hot, humid air.

I can see from the light now entering that it is Nick. He leans against the doorjamb while I watch surreptitiously. He is carrying something. If it is a weapon of any sort I am vulnerable. I lie naked without even a sheet over me. Nick stagers out of the doorway. I see that it is only a can of beer in his hand. He bends down, putting the beer on the mat beside my bed. He hovers there for a moment bent over with his butt in my direction. I can feel my cock stir. Then, with a snort he disappears, collapses onto the mat. Where I lie I cannot see him but I can hear him snore and my now awake brain has only one set of images in mind. Nick's tight shaghole and me pumping it.

My cock is rod hard and unless I get these rocks of my balls I know I will not get back to sleep. I find the lubricant beside the bed, also noticing that it is after three AM(Thursday morning). I had to be up for work in little more two hours. My need to sleep is replaced by my libido's drive to massage my dick, to cum. I am so hot I should blow my load instantly. Instead the orgasm eludes me and I know why. I lie here fantasizing about a bloke and his plowhole when the real thing is at the base of my bed.

I sit up and look down on the object of my lust snoring beside my bed.

He lies on his side, bent at the waist, with his butt pointing towards the bed. He is wearing jeans, t-shirt and runners. The opportunity to retake Nick arse made my cock throb. I roll off the bed. I am indifferent whether he wakes or not. I pull the tie from his hair to see it fall around his face. I roughly get his jeans undone and down round his thighs, pulling his red undies with them. His banghole is now available. Apart from a mumble in the middle of a snore and a semi-hard prick Nick is 'out'. I do not care because, while his fissure is as dry and as tight as last night, my cock, lobbed, crowbar hard is vibrating to pry its way into the secluded crevice before it.

I wedge my feet against a bottom leg of my bed. I lift Nick rump slightly to make space for my knees on the carpet and to give my buggering cock a line of trajectory. I hold onto his thigh and pelvis as my bar breeches deep into the remitting hole. Nick groans as I enter, spasms as I hit butt's-end. I hold him firmly and start rapid fulsome drives as, through his disheveled hair, snores become more like punctuated snorts. The force of each prime from my piston drives Nick's pelvis a little further along the carpet until, if you looked from the ceiling, Nick and I made a cross pivoting at his bum being pummeled by my groin.

I am in a hurry to cum, to get back to sleep, to relieve my bulging jewels. After half a dozen pumps my balls indicate that they have a load of spunk and hormones to release so I let them rip. The load of jizt filled Nick backhole in a series of quick ejaculations that sent me spasmodic trills. My body lifted on Nick like a wing on a fuselage. A final release of the sensational tension came with an ecstatic cry and a few extra deep trusts into the globulous suck of my own spermic fluids. My pull out makes a sucking sound. I flop back up on my bed, the trill of the orgasm still coursing my veins.

I calm. I sleep. There is nothing so restful as the sleep of the just, after.

I am not sure whether it was the stumble against the bed or the:

"Where am I?" that woke me. I pries open an eye to see Nick standing beside my bed in the half light beaming in from the hall. He is staring at my groin which makes me realize I am erect but it is a bladder boner. I had a hard-on because I needed a slash badly. Except for this lazy prick's nocturnal wanderings I would have slept through to the alarm so I figure the least he can do is take care of these loads for me.

"Get your gear off and lie on the bed." I instruct.

A look of dumb, confused fear flashes across his countenance. He half turns to head towards the door but his jeans and undies are still around his thighs. He stumbles and falls back on the bed. I watch through half sleeped eyes as he sits up and resignedly takes off his sneakers, his jeans, red undies and finally his tee-shirt. He lies nude, on his side, back to me, with his knees bent up, his arse proffered for me. I need no prompting and my solid sledge slides easily into its own slush.

Again I am not interested in a time consuming, subtle root. I bugger his rectum hard, fast, and blow another stash on top of the load from an hour before.

"That it, you cum?" Nick asks as I relax still up him. He is probably a bit confused as I did not make much noise. I say nothing but make sure that he doesn't dislodge my slackening dick from his arsehole. I push him onto his stomach ensuring his primed posterior is slightly raised. By now my dick is flaccid enough to urinate which I do copiously. I do not know if it is true for everyone but if I cum with a full bladder the orgasm lacks a thrill. The piss that follows is not only a relieving of 'need to' tension but also releases much of the orgasm like a slow dope.

By the time I have filled Nick's butt with my frothing brew my toes are tingling. Nick has gathered what is going on and holds his sphincter tight when I slip my depressed donger out.

"Your butt hole is full of my piss and jizt and I want none of it on my bed, in my room." I tell him, "Fuck off to the toilet and don't spill a drop." He obeys holding buttock muscles tight against the donated reservoir. As he leaves the room by the still ajar door I spy yellow slops dribbling down his leg. Amused, I turn over thinking of his relief when he dumps my douche and what ever with it. Alas, the cunt has sabotaged my rest completely, the fucking alarm rings just as I nod off.

Ch 3 Kneel

Thursday, seven days to Christmas and things start to look better. I am exhausted at work from lack of sleep and the especially humid day drags on until about five but then we see the first decent downpour for the season. The boss knocks us off, telling us that we are on schedule. That means bonuses. After a few drinks with work mates I head home. The rain has stopped and humidity is saturation again but at least some of the heat has holed up till the morrow.

I arrive home and am about to shower when I notice Nick's clothes from the previous night on my floor. I figure it will be fun to return them so after throwing the red underpants in my rubbish bin I set off to find him. Wayne tells me his out in the ruin. This is a two story apartment that was heavily damaged by Cyclone Tracy and neither repaired nor demolished. I find him with Johnny playing with gunpowder. It is the type of thing they do to pass the time. I think I'm glad to see him until his looks up at me and sneers:

"What do you want?" This destroys any bonhomie that might develop. I answer frankly:

"I want to fuck you!" and throw his clothes and shoes amongst the debris near him. Johnny looks to Nick and sniggers. Nick with a flick of his head indicates that Johnny is to go. He leaves quickly not looking at either of us.

With Johnny gone I make a move toward Nick but he mumble something about not having to many cloths, backs off and proceeds to undress himself. His reluctance means he strips slowly, while I watch. He is wearing thongs, shorts, tank top and of course red underpants which he removes in that order.

"Get rid of the hair tie." I instruct. He complies and hair falls around his face. He is completely nude as he turns and bends to lean against an exposed joist in the wall, his butt thrust towards me. I undo and unzip my work jeans, letting them hang on my hips, allowing my cock and ballsack their freedom. As my phallus engorges I apply spittle to the head. Seeing me Nick applies some of his to his bolthole, a taut prune ready to be plumbed and pitted. I aim to get my crown in, once that fat chunk of meathead is in an arse it is like a dyne bolt and cannot be dislodged till it wants out.

A little force, a well aimed spit and a squeal from Nick, all help ply my intrusion into the fuck-hole. I plumb on, forcing my stiff in all the way up his dry pipe to bring fuck fluids from its depths. These I use to start a rhythmic pulsation. It feels too good and after a few pumps I'm ready to dump but this time I want a fulsome fuck so I pause. Nick is placid, white even in the dimming light. It is like fucking a marble statue. I reach forward to grasp his cock but he slaps my hand away. I retaliate with a couple of hard open hand smacks to his right thigh. His sphincter tightens on my idle perpetrator.

"Didn't you cum? Are ya getting to old to blow" he provokes. I'm not all that slow, I realize I have a quick choice to make. Blow my load and ignore this prick from now on, or give him the whipping he is begging me for whether he knows it or not. I decided on the later because there was no way I am going to want to stop buggering this arsehole. Besides, while I no longer have a rage at Nick he constantly irritates me, like now. I really want to thrash him like a naughty child. It is a turn of events I don't expect and it plays itself out like a theatre-scrip. I wrench my dick quickly, at some discomfort to both of us and roughly grab his hair. As he yelps I realise there is a slab of rubber-foam, once cloth covered as a mattress now covered with the filth, on the floor, a couple of metres away. I pull Nick across by the hair and push him on to the foam amongst the trash. Dust rises as he lands, flat on his stomach, his white bod still obvious in the twilight amongst the detritus of decades.

Again, as if to scrip, not far from my feet is a piece of old electrical ducting a couple of metres long. This I pick up and wrap a part around my right hand. I have shaken out enough cable 'on site' not to need any practice. I unleash about half a dozen stinging swipes all of which found their mark, Nick's snow white bum. The change that comes over my statue is Pygmalion and erotic. His supine body remains passive except for: his hands, which are stretched out above his head, grasp the edge of the mattress every time the whip falls; groans issue from his larynx and his abdomen writhes energetically on the foam.

My throbbing dicktator reminds me that if it sexual gratification I want, it is the centre of the universe. I wank my shaft slowly with my non preferred left while I flay his buttocks with my right. I only have spittle and precum as lobe which prolongs the ritual. The whipping but more watching the butt gyrate turn me on and I commit Onan's sin for the first time with Nick, blowing my load in a metre arc that coats his legs and foam rubber around them. I am so ecstatically preoccupied that I am not looking when I unleash an orgasmic whipping barrage that lands randomly on Nick's back, legs and butt.

To script, this is a desirable result. When I open my eyes I see Nick orgasm for the first time, his body spasms all over and he presumably dumps his spore of forlorn taddies amongst muck of ages. I make some lighthearted post coitus relieving remark to that effect but only get a sneered:

"Fuck off" for my efforts. Obvious it wasn't the load on his balls that makes him obnoxious.

"Fuck you too. I'm hungry." I cheerfully reply. I look back in the near dark as I leave. He is sitting up brushing crud off his diminutive pecs.

I spend a minute in the shower, slip on a pair of shorts and wander down to the local Thai take away, order and sit thinking about what just happened. In my interaction with queer society I have had some contact with the leather scene, not meaning offence, but it always stuck me as a lot of queens taking a break from their dresses. This is different, I enjoyed hitting Nick because he infuriates me. I enjoy fucking him because he is sexy. He gets off on it too. I am sitting here trying to figure this out when I notice the Asian boy behind the counter is staring at my groin. I look down and see I pondered myself a big boner even though I only came five or so minutes ago.

The attendant wakes from his reverie, realizes he is staring at the contents of my shorts, looks up at my tight abs, broad pecs. and thick bis., then my smiling face. As we are the only ones in the shop I do not hide my manhood; I stretch out in the chair, flex my arms in a stretch behind my head. My cock is only keep within my dacks by the bulbous shape of its engorged head. He tries to look away but his eyes are constantly drawn back. When my meal arrives I ask for some free prawn crackers. With a sneak look at the kitchen, he gives me a whole packet.

"See ya," I say as I leave.

"Thank-you," is his reply.

I am sitting eating my meal, drinking a beer on the concrete in front of the downstairs entrance. It could be a car space but so few of us have cars we put a table here to eat in the cool of the evening. As I finish my beer I see Nick go into the downstairs bathroom. This is not unusual, someone could be using the upstairs loo. I finish, clean my rubbish and need a piss. The nearest toilet is in the downstairs bathroom so I head there.

"What are you doing in here? Can't I have a fucking shower in peace." comes from the shower recess. He knows how to press my buttons.

I have my dick out about to piss, incensed I slip my short off as I walk over to the shower recess. I open the door, step in and turn off the shower. Nick swears at me in 'Russkie'. I grab his hair and put my face an inch from his.

"I came in here to piss in that bogbowl over there. You made me come over here so now I'm gunna piss on you. Kneel!"

"Fuck-off I'm not your fucking slave."

"In the last few days you have slept on the floor beside my bed, let me fuck you when I want to, let me use you as a toilet, I whip you. Yhep I'd say you're my fuck slave bumboy. Kneel!"

He does. What a relief, I have been holding on to this bladder load for long enough. There is plenty of room in the recess so as my golden shower spurts from my pick-slit I move around, my spray covering his chest, arms, then his back. This is the first chance I have had to see his back since I whipped him. Though the hot shower, from which Nick still dripped had blushed his skin, some of the welts stood out clearly on the fair flesh. I aim my acid stream at these and see him wince. I save the last of my urine and move to his front again pushing him to his haunches using a hand on his shoulder. I open his mouth with a hand on his jaw and put my still flaccid penis in his mouth and relieve myself some more. He gags, piss runs down the side of his mouth.

"Suck bitch, swallow!" I demand and he complies, lapping up my piss.

Having finished pissing my dick got round to its main purpose in life.

Getting the message I tell Nick again to:

"Suck bitch, swallow!" I guess different types of sex relate to different types of people. With my member I can make any pussy howl and we all know tom-pussies howl loudest. Nick, he gets off on a beating but his thing is not sucking dicks. After a minute in his mouth my cock began to resemble his back. He can barely swallow the head. I could give advice but now is not the time. Besides he stank, so I take my cock back and turn on the shower. He moves to get up. I clip him across the ear.

"Who said you could move." I let water run over him for a minute then I turn it off. I turn around and position my butt hole for his mouth.

"Eat my arse out then if ya can't suck cock ya poof." I love having my sphincter rimmed. It gives me an idea of what it must be like for the hebitches I ball. Nick, maybe offended by my criticism, ravishes my virgin jewel. We never kiss or anything like that but I can tell from his brown-nosing that he has a strong armadillo tongue which, dildo like, drives into my butt's portal. Meanwhile I yank my meat. I work the shaft, playing with the extant veins until I can not resist working my head.

"Come on slut, love my hole, lick it out." This brought a frenzy of activity from Nick's oral protrusion.

"Oh yes that is it" uttered as I shot my load sounded something like: "Ooohyyaaathafaackinshitt!" I turned the shower on again and told Nick to soap and wash me. He did. It is a great way to cum down. After he washed himself and we dried I took him to bed.

I have not been to bed with some one since I came to Darwin three months ago if you ignore Nick's stunt last night. Tonight is different, not only because I have something to take. The heat is not as oppressive as it has been in recent weeks and while the humidity is high, sweat has never stopped me having a good root. Besides I have unfinished business with Nick's arse. I have yet to deposit any of my DNA in that boy's bod tonight and given that he is now mine to use, it is time I did. I expect to POQ him once I have given him some but.... I am not going to detail every erotic body activity Nick and I did over the next week, I do not remember them anyway. I will say I slept fuck all that night and yet woke fresh and energetic for work. Maybe it is lack of arse that that has been sapping my energy all these months.

Ch. 4 Top End Trade

I have a happy day at work. The boss leaves me in charge and I am able to sort out a dispute amongst contractors that he would have struggled with. The arvo's shower is more electrical than wet. Great billowing clouds lit up like Christmas trees; beams of sunlight intersperse with electrical extravaganza. Rainbows come to be blasted away by lightening. The show moves one cloud after the other across the sky. The rain as patchy as the clouds are flashy. The rainbow is chromatic as the winds sporadic. Even as I head home the light show goes on, now collecting the hues of sunset. I shower and nobody is around so I decide to head for town. Nick joins me at the bus stop. We say nothing until we get on when he asks me to pay his fair. I give it to him but we sit apart. I get off half way, at Fanny Bay and walk towards East Head. Nick follows.

It is still early so I do not expect any action but as soon as I arrive I see a figure head towards one of the concrete blockhouses that once protected our continent from the Japanese. I leave Nick on the cliffs looking to sea and follow. The old gun embankment is dark but I can see an outline of a male form in an alcove that gets a slither of illumination from the lights in the reserve. As I move closer and my sight adjusts I see a short, nude muscular body with its back to me, arms and head leaning against the wall. His torso and legs are angled away from the wall. The slither of external light strategically highlights his butt. The pair of rounded cantaloupes visible because they are pale from less sun than most of his body. This helps emphasize the tattoo, or is it a brand, on the right bun. At the invitation my cock rocks out of my fly, and up this red hot, accommodating taillights before me or the bog-butter can gasp.

He milks my weapon as quickly as it took my jeans to fall to my thighs. Neither of us mind. I savior his hole till my hard-on loses some of its strength and the cum-fun spike easies in my blood. I hear stirrings at the entrance to the bunker. I let my dick dislodge. In the semi dark I can see the outline of a huge bloke moving towards us.

The fuckee against the wall just keeps his place so I am ready to stand aside to let the monster form poke the pudding when he says:

"That guy out there yours? Can I have him?" I pause from slipping my dick back in my pants and am about to say something like, 'Ask him' when I remember last night:

"Take him!" As the monolith leaves, the de-Sade power trip of deciding Nick sexual fate springs my cock back to life and it is soon back in my slops in the hole on the wall. My hands explore the body's tight muscles, cock-ringed cock and balls, copious piecings. The tits have large rings that I slip my thumbs in pulling the body down increasing the depth of my drive up his dirt hole . The butt-bandit responds hotter than before; so is my eventual blow.

When my cock slips out the second time the trick turns, kneels and licks right along its declining arch.

"Want to join us?" he asks into my pubes. This confirms my suspicion that he is with the monster that took Nick. I delay giving a proper answer till we are outside and I can get a good look at him. Illuminated he proved to be a youth, probably Arab, shaven head, plenty of body tats, studs and rigs.

"Sure," I say as I stick a finger in a strategic glory hole in the pair of shoddy cut-offs he is zipping up. His mate, seeing us together, guns his bike into action. The bulk of the bike and him make Nick, who is sitting behind him without his top, look like a stick figure.

"Can you ride?" he asks offering me the keys to a smaller but powerful cycle.

"Does the pope shit in the woods" I answer as I take the keys and hop on in front of him. He directs me to a large stilted house in central Darwin. Underneath there is a big four wheeled sports ute and second car.

The house is sumptuous if a little garish with consumables. On a huge TV screen: a black youth is being stripped of his school uniform and searched by a uniformed police officer in a set of toilets. The cop handcuffs the student to a urinal flush. He verbals and roughs him up as he subjects him a coarse cavity search.

"Colin" the big bloke introduces himself, offering his hand. "My mole Sage," nodding to the bottom boy I fucked In the park. He does not introduce the pure blood aboriginal butt-boy who offers refreshments from 'coke' to Bundy and Coke. At first I thought he is chained to a rail near the kitchen sink but I realize when he turns his cut off have the arse cut out and the fine chain is attached to a butt plug. Colin is probably Maori, many of his tats look traditional, obviously works out.

A second student with another copper had joined the TV toilet interrogations. As the officers on the screen were forcing the boys to perform, at first reluctantly, sex together I go with Sage to a bedroom. It has a huge waterbed, Nick, Colin and the domestic butt disappears into a room with dull lights, implements racked on the wall. It is still early. Before I can get my pants off Sage has my cock in his mouth, utilizing the engineered gap in his teeth he gives me a unique, and my first decent, head in months.

Then he is a hebitch that makes it all feel good. I soon give his gut some of my protein. My cum brings a break for more drinks or drugs. The youth soon has me hard again by giving me an ornate handle from which hung about half a dozen leather tongs. He lay face down offering his bulbous butt to beat. Minutes later I plunge my pole into welted arse-hole. With more drugs I find that the tattoos that contort about Sage's body start to join in the fun. While I see Colin in a couple of these 'refreshment' breaks and am served by the domestic, Nick is obviously not able to leave the room.

I have had a little shut eye when I am shaken awake to see Colin with one foot on the floor, the other knelling on the bed. He is watching the aboringinal fag suck my slops from Sage's butt-hole. Sage loves it and accentuates the waterbed's waves. When Colin is satisfied his hebitch's arse is clean he tugs on the blackboy' butt chain to get him to stand aside. While Sage's stern is lifted to accept his master's gang-plank I hold his bow by his ears and moor my bollard in the forward hole. I join in tossing our love boat between cocks in rhythmic waves. The abo bitch now devotes his tongue to rimming his master's butt-hole. Colin pumps ballast into the bilges with such force I have to stabilize my mast in the bow. Our vessel's captain disengages with an expletive and a slap across the poop deck of his first mate. Minutes later I deliver my cargo to the hole in the prow.

It is still early morning but with my boss leaving me in charge I figure I better get moving. I am dressing, Sage is ringing a taxi. The door to the dark room is open: Nick is hanging in the centre from above by separate manacles, facing me but hooded. He is otherwise naked except for a leather G-string. His pristine white body is criss-crossed with welts, some bloody. As I wait for the ride Colin asks:

"How much do you want for ya slave?"

"Man, I'm out of here at Christmas," I laugh incredulous.

"OK, I'll wait till then." I am wary of muscle bound Colin. Fortunately I am saved by the horn blast from the taxi outside. As I head home in the taxi I am wondering what the offer meant. I realize I need to take Colin seriously. At first I thought him a bouncer or drug pusher but now I shift him up to hoodlum or drug supplier and would prefer not to upset him. I venally think how a real money offer would allow me to arrive in Perth with cash rather than just no longer in debt.

I have another day running things at work but that only means work is inadequate to satisfy my need to do a hard day's physical work. I get home about five and like some husband expected Nick to be there for me to relieve my tensions in. But the place is deserted except for Wayne and Allen who say that Nick had been home during the day but had gone out late arvo. I go out to a local restaurant and sit down to dinner. This is like old times, that is a few days ago, when this was the pattern of my life. I plan to go out to a club later that night because there is no work tomorrow for the first time in months. I decide to watch a bit of TV in the meantime. Round midnight I wake in front of the box. The lack sleep over the previous months has caught up with me and sapped motivation to go clubbing.

After the nap I am not tied and I cannot sit here playing with the rocks-on I have. I go up to Nicks room but it is locked and if he is there he is not answering. I am fuming. I am use to his butt satisfying my needs. I know I will not sleep for a while so I take the chance to check out the local beat something I have not done in months. As I approached I could hear the typical harangue of bog bashers at the back. This is actually just what I feel like; a chance to blow some of my frustrations on some drongoes that have nothing better to do than stuff up the shag supply in the neighborhood.

I pick up an empty port bottle near my feet as I go to the back of the toilets. Three toughs are harassing a slight number in the dark against the back wall of the bog. I am noticed when I smash the bottle on the building's corner. They are hesitant but the trick they are hassling lets go a right cross that floors the punk nearest to him. One turns tail and runs. I throw the broken bottle that further splinters on the feller's head. I delight in the cry of pain the cunt yells as he disappears into the dark. The third, who had stayed to help his floored mate, realizes I am on him only when he looks up to me. He belatedly tries to run but gets no further than my fist into his solar plexus, then one in his face from the cove he was attacking.

It is only as he drops to join his mate, I notice the trade I had saved is Wayne from the house.

We checked their pockets.

"Next time bring money," Wayne says as we both put a boot into the bodies at our feet.

"Which one will take home for latter?" I laugh as we pull their pants down to half mask. We make them crawl away, on all fours, dacks around their knees, tempting taillights flashing, us cat calling them.

We headed back to the house laughing. I go into my down stairs room and Wayne stands at the door. In the light I see he has a knock on the left temple and a cut lip.

"Their pockets weren't quite empty," Wayne says holding up a foil. He sits down next to me on the bed, I give him papers and he rolls a triple jay which we smoke. He asks me about why I live in the dump when I earn so much money and I explain about my debts.

He then asks me about Nick and I tell him:

"I know nothing about him apart from him being an arsehole but then like most arseholes he is useful for some things other than being shitty."

"Ain't ya got a heart?" Wayne asks. Till tonight I had never look at Wayne as a prospective fuck. He is slight but wiry, short dark hair, his fresh young face made slightly rugged by the wound inflict earlier. I decide to be direct. I pull open my fly to expose my cock. It is flaccid but begins to enlarge as I take it in hand.

"Look how the chunk of meat that's the head is clearly an upside down heart from where you sit."

Far from scaring Wayne away he cups the head in his palm, his thumb smearing the fluids emulating from the depression at the heart's centre. As he plays with my dick he tells me about Nick. I am usually rude if deep and meaningfuls are to be discussed, but given the attention my meat is getting I make an exception. I am soon intrigued by the surprising insights Wayne gives to the underbelly of the house.

"He's Ukrainian. Ended up in an orphanage at about seven when the old Russia collapsed. The place had a hierarchy: Staff (largely unpaid), Prefects (mostly the top soccer team), Seniors (boys that had blown their first load) and Juniors (those that had not). He was transitioning from a junior when a distant relatives bought him and brought to Australia."

I am digesting this when, after a pause, he goes on: "I love him you know?" I knew he is not talking about Nick.

"You mean Allen?" I prompted but did not need an answer. Wayne is always hanging around with Allen. They were a good looking couple. Wayne is short wiry while Allen is tall, with solid shoulders narrowing to a pelvis that barely clung to the long, hung, hipsters he liked to wear. Wayne confirmed my suppositions with a nod and told of his frustrations:

"We met and had sex on a beat in Adelaide and while there's been a couple of drunken gropes since, Allen keeps it straight." I could fill in much myself. Geoff once took a call from Wayne's mom where she told him how her boy had left a good job with the railways, sold his car to buy a bike and rode away to the Territory. Wayne was not there for the call. He was south, bush somewhere with Allen, Johnny and Nick. Apparently Nick and Allen had written off the bike hooning around. It did not matter to Wayne if Allen did stuff like that, having fun.

I am out of sympathetic 'mmms' and really hot from him playing with my head-on. By now he had smeared my pre-cums to a tantalizing lather; so I remind him:

"We were both at that the bog tonight because our partners let us down. Lets imagine we did not know each other and just meet standing at the piss trough of the beat."

He is smiling as he lies back on the bed and carries on talking about Allen's virtues. I reached over to get some oil, unzipped his jeans and started to play with his six-inch hard-on.

"You don't think I'm a slut for this?" is all he says as I left his prick to his own ministrations and turned him on his side, undid his jeans and pulled them down far enough to rub my greased cock along his butt-crack.

"After my pass few months I know what sexual abstinence is like." I told him.

"We meld in empathy for each other's frustrations," he poetically replied, as he frantically wanked his own tool and tried to drive his arse onto mine. His sphincter is selfishly unyielding against my inflated heart-crown so I grab a hand full of both sides of his jeans and drive my sledge home.

My heart alone is accommodated for a few seconds till Wayne grunts and deposits taddies on my sheet, yanks his arse-chute off my meat, gets up yanking up his dacks and immediately leaves with a mumbled:

"Gotta go." This means I am left hard, attempting to wank the interruptus to coitus but after what seems like an eternity, with my donger raw, I merely fade to sleep. I stir often, usually because my solid truncheon beats me hard on the thighs as I toss in the humid conditions or is a weight suspended parallel to the bed when I am on my side or is prop preventing me lying on my stomach. Each time I wake I interrupt a vivid, technicolour, erotic dream, induced no doubt by my sexual frustrations and the dope. They are about Nick, Sage, Wayne, the butts of the bashed bog bashers and general composites. I wake definitely when a nightmare of my former partner has me tied to a bed, him fucking me. Metaphorically that what Rob did, devotedly fucking me over financially, making this trip to Darwin necessary.

Chaper 5 Tropo Tackle

It is ten already on a Sunday morning and the drench of sweat I am in can be explained by the climate but it only enhances my lousy mood. I have a difficult piss through my hard-on and I bend my phallus still dripping into my underdacks and head upstairs. Nick is not in his room. Wayne, embarrassed, ignores me but Allen tells me that Nick is out in the ruin. He is not but I find a new lock on the door of the only room in the structure that is intact. I kick the door, not because I wanted to get in but out of frustration at the arses not got, my jealous, single -minded, single-eyed monster mixing it with my machismo and testosterone. I head down the Rapid Creek markets to satisfy my hunger for food but it exasperates my other hungers. The crowd is out in Sunday morning best: men in shorts or sarongs, midriff exposed women in hand but eyes on everyone else. My dick is in constrained pain when I arrive back at the house and finally find Nick in his room.

I have come to appreciate the indifference Nick shows me, it is consistent with his passive acceptance of my cardinal desires and his positive acceptance of pain so I can maliciously relieve my masculine aggression. I walk over to where he sits on the bed and grabbing him by his pony-tail, pushing his face into my crutch. In the silence I can hear him sniff my piss, my pheromones. He licks the material of my cutoffs tracing the pulsations of my pent-up penis. He licks and sniffs the new leather belt I just bought at the markets.

"Why is there a lock in the ruin?" I ask as I drag him to his feet by his hair. He say nothing, just hands me a key from the sideboard. As we head down the back stairs I hold onto his hair like a leash.

The room is a shrine to Nick's and my debauchery. Nick has made a feeble attempt to clean it. The lump of foam, brushed off, is still in one corner, and the lounge room couch we first shagged on is there in a dilapidated state. A couple of old mirrors give us strategic views of potential dissipation. On one wall are rope ties on the exposed framework of the building that would star-stretch Nick's body.

After the frustration of the last few hours the ties looked tempting but I had already decided on the punishment for Nick to suffer to atone for his absence, my abstinence.

"Strip!" I ordered, as I searched amongst the cabling, Nick had collected, for a long stretch. I take his hands and bind them thoroughly. My cock is hurting, bent up in my dacks, so I pause to release it and finish binding him. I tie the very long piece between his tied clasped hands. I make a step with my hands.

"Throw it over that rafter," I tell him, indicating an exposed wood in the ceiling. As his naked body steps up on my hands, to advance his punishment, his hard-on rests on my shoulder. When he is back on the floor I make him stand tiptoe on a brick. I pull the cable taunt and tie it to expose cross wood on a wall. I kicked the brick away and Nick hangs full stretch from his hands, his toes a centimetre from the floor.

As I remove my shorts I take my new belt out of its loops. I stand, playing with my erection, wearing only sneakers and singlet. The room's window had long been covered with a piece of corrugated iron, so the main light source in the room is though the ceiling hole under which Nick hangs. Nick is a suspended white pillar tapering towards the ceiling and floor. I turn him in the light, annoyed at the score of new welts and scratches that besmirched his lily whiteness. The belt is unlikely to leave lastingly imperfections. I make a bun of his hair. I am proud of the restraint I have in deciding to beat rather immediately bugger the youth. The only release I have had in the last couple of day is the beating up at the beat and that had only hooliganized my natural concupiscence.

I let my bottled up pressure explode in a frenzy of strapping him. I use the length of the belt aiming to pink up the whiteness on his entire body. I flay wildly as his bod spun and swayed like a flame to the belt's hot beat. The normally mute Nick can not help but yelp. The crys bring fowl, profane insults from me.

"Till I sell ya ya slag, ya allegiance is to me." I blast him because my cock is hot, wanting to explode a load. I am Tantricizing it, extracting numerous semi orgasms with my left hand while I concentrated on the task of making my cold white flame flare. I even had him bend his knees, lifting his feet so I could strap their soles.

The whole dissipation climaxed when Nick ejaculated his jizt unaided except for extra heavy blows from my belt. I just stop my shot again, my balls ache. My supplicant now has the balls of his toes on the floor due to the stretching of the cable and his body. His arms are still taunt above his head.

I looped both my arms under Nick's armpits and back over his shoulders locking my hands at the back of his neck. I hang off him pulling him down onto my diamond tipped bit as I drilled my way into his ore body.

I have been close for so long that I do not pound his hole but screw it. I hang much of my weight on his frame and gyrate around tempting my cock to blow. Occasionally I release an arm to slap his already tenderized skin. I pauses again but my hebitch's chute starts to pulsate rhythmically.

"Oh yeh! Cum on punk-pussy get that arse working to fuck my cock." Nick's arse wins, deep contractions wrestle the load from my over-loaded balls. After my spent member descends from it rectumal heaven I go and release the cable. Nick falls to the floor, a sore, pathetic, fetal ball. I am in a quandary: piss, fist, beat, root. In the end I did nothing because I hear voices and activity on the lawn outside the ruin.

It is Sunday so I should not have been surprised to see a game of touch is being organized on the lawn. I am a bit surprised to see Colin and Sage there.

"Thought you would be to busy to join us," Sage smirked.

"We'll play," I say. As I go to lower loo for a piss, then go to my room to fetch Nick's red undies from my trash bin and take them out to him to wear. Geoff, Wayne, Allan and I are on one team, Sage, Colin, Johnny and Nick on the other. We are being thrashed, Nick's and Sage's speed and Colin's intimidatory playing style means they run in numerous tries in the sweltering conditions.

Then the clouds open for a downpour, Geoff leaves but the other five of us decide to play on. Johnny moves over to our team and with the extra man we become competitive. The contest becomes a mud wrestle as the warm tropical rain becomes a torrent. Within minutes the ball becomes slippery, the ground floods and the game degenerates to the more physical game of tackle. I think Johnny is the first to lose he dacks but Wayne soon follows as the mud and water weighs them down and groping hands ensure they are buried in the mud or as in my tackle of Nick, his briefs are rendered useless. I think Sage just removes his, giving four barearsed butt boys for Colin, me and the ambivalent Allen to tackle and grope to the ground.

Given the conditions little try-scoring is done and my side holds its own. When exhaustion eventually ends the match, Johnny heads to the upstairs bathroom, Colin decides his teammates will wash under the tap while Allen, Wayne and I head for the downstairs shower. There is an awkward moment whether the three of us will shower together. Wayne already nude and hard-on goes in the big recess first and turns on the water. As I remove my shorts I gesture to Allen to follow. He hesitates but steps in with his muddy short still on. Wayne removes them and as I squeeze into the cubicle is already devouring his handsome, fat cock. Allen has first a startled and then ecstatic look on his face. Wayne's bent form is arse at me. I work my rampant arseasasin back to where it had been so rudely expelled the night before.

I had had little of the shower water so I am still muddy and grit soon gets into Wayne's butt-chute giving the root extra traction. The tight confines of the shower carries the robust wrestle of the game over to our fuck. I am soon driving my member deep into Wayne's arse rocking him onto his buddy's dick. Allen starts to compete with my attack ramming Wayne's mouth. As both of us are much taller than Wayne he is lifted off the floor like a joist as we hammer our dowels into his form from each end. I not sure who starts to blow first but the passion of Allen's and my orgasms is enough to collapse the hot 'H' of our mange' to a heap on the cubicle's floor. Wayne wanks himself, licking Allen receding erection, my cock still up him. We slowly cum-down, soaping and cleaning each other on the showers floor.

I leave the shower as the two boys forget I am here, getting into petting and tiredly whispering to each other,.

I dry my self, wrap a towel around me and wander out to the back. Colin has not been idle. Both Nick and Sage, still naked, muddy, were licking Colin muddy bod clean. He takes a break from them to greet me warmly. We wander outside where the conversation moves from Nick's masochistic qualities back to how much his is worth:

"I'll give ya $5,000 for him and I'll wait till Christmas,"

"You're hardly waiting," I point out. "$10,000!" I respond finally deciding to take him seriously.

"$7,500" he says

"You can have Nick tonight but don't cut him or his hair until his yours," I stipulate. He holds out his hand and we shake and discuss details about the hand-over.

I decide I do not want to join them, as I am hungry. I make a couple of sandwiches in the kitchen. As I go to my room past Allen's room I hear give-away springs and grunts so my dick makes me feel maybe choosing food is a bad decision. I know they have no need of me. I still have to work in the morning so go to bed. I am woken in the night by mouth giving superb head. It is Nick, come to share improved abilities with his current master.

.

Chapter 6 A. B.

It is Monday, four days till Christmas. The arvo rain is piddling. The sun is steaming it up from the construction site as I watch. I work late and eat on the way home. The humidity and heat are hanging on. It is especially bad in the house and the ruin, so I tell Nick that I want to fuck down the local creek. Now my wish is Nick's command, at least sexually. Nick and I understand each other. Domestically we hardly mix. I do not care what Nick eats, and I do not want him to have anything to do with my food. With the increase in shagging Nick has to deal with his anal hygiene and Sage helped with that, just as that couple improved his competence in sexual delivery. Socially the house has a new dynamic. I think Wayne and Allen are yet to emerge from Allen's room. In Colin we have the source of good, cheep drugs. Nick now supports about a dozen studs or rings mostly in his ears; but his tits, nose and ball sack do not miss out. His arum lily whiteness is cut out by small black tats on thighs, pecs and bis. He wears a studded dog collar with matching wrist and ankle bands.

Nick and I are walking past the Tai takeaway smoking a joint. The Asian boy who had been so interested in my body a couple of days ago is putting out trash. Both Nick and I am bare-chested. I call the Asian boy over. I never get his name so lets call him AB. I offer him the joint which he accepts.

"Join us down by the creek," I tell him. AB nods:

"Try and finish quickly." We walk on, it is not far. As we turn off I look back and AB is still watching. Not much is happening between Nick and me on our arrival near the creek. I made a birch for Nick's bum but when he stripped his shorts off there is my name in bright colours surrounded by a heart of black chain on his left buttock, a large professional tattoo. Any punishment I planned is suddenly amateurish compared to what Nick had already done in my name today. I spend some time running my calloused palm over the fresh scaring.

At that moment AB burst into the clearing. I wave to him to come over. He seems reluctant at first but Nick has circled around behind.

"Get ya gear off!" Nick says as he grabbed him around the waist.

"We're both naked," I conciliate. I am with them now. Nick lifts AB off the ground while I whip off his shoes, sox, trousers and boxes. Nick removes his tee-shirt and singlet as he put him down. As I have said I love variety and AB added to that. His physique is a two-thirds version of Nick's, slighter, up to his chest. Even his stiffy is the same shape though half Nick's size. I call him 'boy' because he is cute, like many Asian men he could be fourteen or forty.

I check out his fuck-hole, it is tight. With a bit of spittle I force my finger in.

"Arw!" and I can see he is worried as he stands shivering in the heat, his prick a hard doodle, us towering over him.

Stripping him and testing his arse has made my cock harden but it had a way to go and AB is watching with increasing alarm.

"No, please! First time!" I do not want to go on about the problems us blokes with big dongers have but without copious lubricant this tight little butt hole is locked to me. I look to Nick to maybe suck me for lube when it stuck me that his seven-inch spear would be the ideal softener for my phallus.

"Get ya dick in him and get him ready for me," I order.

Nick obeys even though Asians and actively fucking are not his scene. He places a hand on AB back inducing him to bend. AB obviously sees Nick as an easier option. Nick gabs AB's hips with both hands and drives his dick into him with one expert thrust using his natural juices under his foreskin for the initial breach. AB grunts with each of Nick's thrusts. He Is not supported by anything, so as Nick bangs his butt-hole the oriental is first unsteady but slowly collapses onto the ground. Nick keeps the buttocks slightly raised by locking his thighs under AB's.

I enjoy watching the contrasting size and colour, watching for the first time Nick's brutal, method fucking. AB moans with each incursion. All of which compounds the fact that at the moment everyone is getting some but me. My cock throbs with anticipation and as Nick is at my feet I think of fucking him in a sandwich. I decide otherwise because it will not help him cum and I want Nick's jizt for lubrication. Instead I take up the birch I made earlier and start to flay Nick, including a few swipes at the new tat. It is AB who suffers the consequences, the odd swipe hit him, bring howls of indignation but mainly the pounding rhythm of Nick's copulation turns to a manic fit. Nick does not make much noise when he cums and he pulls out immediately the fit finishes depositing much of his slops in AB's crack.

"There he is master, primed and ready for your use," Nick mocks, bowing, gesturing towards AB. This no doubt makes him more apprehensive. As he lifts himself off the ground horror appears on his face when he sees my rampant manhood, its huge head blood purple with anticipation.

"No, enough, too big!" AB mumbles.

"This is what you've been dreaming about for days. Over and brace yourself on that tree," I order pointing. Whether AB believes in authority or I hit the mark with the dreaming comment he does what he is told. Nick's doable of spunk is expertly placed but the task before me is a large one or small depending on perspective. My cockhead looks about half the size of one of AB's buttocks. He is tense and I tease him, working my head up and down his crack, lubing it with Nick's deposit, twisting his nipples. I am much taller so I can move my legs around his, locking his abdomen in place. I reach over steadying my self with one hand on the tree, doing the formalities on his stiffy with the other. My foreplay works in that it takes AB's mind off his butt-hole for a moment which I seize. Positioning my phalanx at the breach I drive it in tightening my leg lock to hold him to it. Still the arsehole defied my demanding point.

Unable to move forward AB reacts by pushing back. As a consequence, we both nearly fall backwards, Nick just steadies me in time and AB forced his arse on to my cock, driving it into his narrow tube.

AB yelps, writhes, whimpers and begs but with the breachhead in, I am back in control. I push in as far as I can go, making a highway where a lane had been before. About half my dick is in when I move to butt buster mode, relentlessly bombarding AB's butt's end. I am varying angles and speeds in an attempt to get deeper but about a third of my cock is still extant and it wants in on the action. I look at AB trying to twist away from the barrage and understand his pleas; my rod could end up in his lungs. Then capitulation, my cockhead is suddenly released into a broader chamber, my crown sliding in to be held in a vice grip.

Both AB and I are howling now for the same reason. Broaching his upper colon works like a sucking release and my rocks respond, pumping spunk through my cock, thrill into my blood. I express the ecstasy by ramming my spunk deeper in his guts. AB I see is dumping his own load without manual assistance so I must be doing something right. I release my legs' grip on AB legs only to realize that he is hanging off my rampant gibbosity. I lean into an angle with the tree and as my cock declines AB drops onto the dust and his jizt at our feet. Nick, sitting a metre away, gives mock applause. I have plenty of shit on my dick so I use AB singlet to wipe it. I sit down next to Nick and motion to AB to join us. He gets up, picks up his clothes, except the singlet, and leaves naked. Before he exits the clearing he turns, bows and says:

"Thank-you!"

I take Nick home to bed.

Chapter 7. Top End-game

Tuesday morning I am driving errands for my site. I finished by lunch and so I figure I can quickly root Nick and be back to work soon enough. I find him up stairs with Johnny whom I ignore. I have come prepared with a leash that I link to the collar Nick now wears and I lead him down to the ruin. It is a week since I had first used Nick's arse on the same couch that is now dumped in the fuck-room Nick had made for us. It had lost an arm in some skylark by the lads and its back while still attached is at a forty-five degree angle. The fuck is much like the first, only my dick escapes my clothes while Nick strips. It is also different because it is face on. I slip the dog lead under his knees, looping the choker-lead over his head. I kneel at the bundled up butt and rapid entry of my craft into its passage makes me see how much his butt control has improved.

This needs to be a quickie. Nick is strangled every time I drew out. I am ready to blow Nick's butt when he pulls me towards him past his legs, loosening the chocker chain.:

"Johnny's watching," he whispers. "Pretend to cum and I'll pretend to go to the bog and I'll get him." I did not need to pretend, I give our voyeur a show of how I bash butt when I blow. I unwrap Nick, who mutters something about a dump and leaves. I know Johnny must have been spying through the ceiling hole so I do not hide my drooping donger with its dangling after-cum. I fake surprise seconds latter when he falls into the room, twisting an ankle. Nick drops lightly behind. I take time to have a post coitus joint while this little drama works itself out.

Remember Nick is the boss of these punks so it is interesting to see his personality change from supplicant to superior.

"I warned ya what would happen if ya didn't keep away from here, now suck his dick." I have just passed the joint to Nick and am about to pants my diminishing penis when he said this. Johnny obediently bends at the waist and sucks post-cum from my knob while Nick pulls his shorts down and off. The delivery of a bitch like this is enough of a turn on to overcome the fact that I have just cum, I am late for work and that I do not find Johnny very attractive. He is a weed with bad skin, his countenance ugly with a hair lip and accompanying lisp, he is as dim as a bat cave but the speleologist in me is motivated by the prospect of an unexplored cavern. My cock rocks back.

Nick hands the joint back to me ignoring Johnny's indication that he wanted a toak. Instead Nick pulls him to the couch and threads him head first through the still intact arm. He is face down, the couch arm around his waist, knees bent on floor, bare butt presented. Nick went on telling him how much he deserves to get what he is about receive as he ripped open a condom packet extracted the contents and with just a quick glance at me rolled it up my refreshed hard-on. First I guess he knows something about Johnny that I did not. Then as he keeps talking about how big and hard I am and how hard it is going to be to take me I realized that the latex of the bullet proof vest is probably there to make the beating my baton is about to meat out that much more punishing.

I am glad Nick does not prattle like this when we are alone but I am enjoying it. I finish the joint as I kneel behind Johnny, separating his thighs. His yell as I force an entry in him is stifled as Nick pushes his face into the vinyl. Like most flap jackets it has a bit of lube, and I guess Johnny is no virgin but then he probably has not had any thing as big as me lately. I hand the stub back to Nick who stabs the roach out on Johnny's back. His arse pulsats, drawing me in. A glance at my watch makes me realize I need to be back at work a couple of minutes ago. With a bit of urgency I pump arse. Johnny could not move; held in place by the couch arm on his waist and Nick's now got a foot on his back. I even appreciate the film of protection as I friction deeper and harder into a shallow recess.

Johnny's noise is buried in the couch but mine is load loud as I my dick spews into the liner bag before it has even stretched the punk's butt-end enough to take its full length. I am very late for work and my work here is done so I pull out and quickly get up. Nick slips the rubber off. I leave Johnny to his devices and head towards the site-ute. Before I put my diminishing cock away I decide to piss in the shrubs next to the fuck-room.

"Come on fuck ya, give us the twenty." I hear Nick say. They walk out of the ruin together, not noticing me. Nick pockets twenty and Johnny squeezes my jizt from the condom into his mouth like an icy-pole. I realize I have just been pimped.

I drive back to work in a foul mood only to find the boss wondering where I have been. He hung about so I ended up spending most of the arvo just filling in time, thinking how I could get even with Nick. It is hard when the bloke your trying to punish is a masochist. In the end I decide that as long as I get satisfaction from hurting him it does not really matter whether he gets off on suffering or not. I leave at knock-off time, with the afternoon rain more a threat than actual. It is still a sweat bath when I arrive home. I find Nick in his room. I stand and stare at him. His ear lobs had been grommeted in the arvo. I do not have to say anything, but Nick strips in front of me and I check out his new piecings including a ring in his foreskin. He turned and presented his arse but I am determined to be firm. I pick up the dog lead near his bed and clip it to the collar.

I pull him, naked, down to the fuck-room and push him against the wall with the star ties. He does what I tell him:

"Tie ya legs," I tell him while I do cruel, crude things to his private parts that hang as he bends. I tie his hands so he is stretched uncomfortably against the wall. I retrieve a smelly, material shopping bag from a corner of the room and tie the bag to his head. He tenses waiting for me but I quietly leave without even hitting him. My plans are for a final night on the town as I have to fly out day after tomorrow, first thing Christmas morning. I go get food, wash and am about to dress when there is a knock. I am sitting naked on the bed so I cover myself with a sheet:

"Come in!" Wayne, in shorts only, comes in asking to borrow my lighter. As it is my only one and smokers never return lighters I made him light his joint in the room.

I would have been happy for him to leave so I could get ready but he offers me the smoke and sits on the bed happy to talk. He is very content with his life lately; I have not seen either him or Allen since Sunday night. The chat of why he is so content makes me erect under the sheet which I do not try to hide and Wayne obviously notices. Before this develops Allen, also only in shorts arrives at the door looking for his butt-buddy. I have not seen either of them for a few days and Allen is really different. His head is shaved which makes his face sharp with angles; prominent checks, darkened eyes. He comes across and takes what is left of the smoke.

"This ain't the only fag that's smoking," he says eyeing the bulge in my sheet. I lean over and collect some "e's" I got from Colin and offer them to the lads. The sheet dropped off my body in the movement and leaves my hard-up dick exposed.

I basically want them to either leave or get down to it. We slip the 'e' and the fuck-buddies failed to do much but talk. I gently pull Wayne towards me using his tit ring and slip my hand down his lose pants. His arse is still juicy from his fucker's activities. Wayne takes the hint and swallows my dick while I start to strip his pants off. Allen takes that over, ripping the dacks off, pulling Wayne around to give his cock ready access to his shit-chute. Wayne's head is rammed into the bed by the vigor of Allen's assault, interfering with his head job on me. I grease my cock as I move to explore the only other readily available hole, Allen's arse. I leave my penetration to just standing still at his rear, leaning into him. I use his fucking momentum to gain my head breach. Only a shudder breaks the rhythm of the buddies' buggering and Allen's cock-lust draw me deeper along his dirt road. Soon I am adding my thrust to a mutual dissipation, my cock's hard, deep, bashing, reverberating through Allen into Wayne's rectum. Probably because the pills began to take effect ejaculation is not important but a drink is.

We have a break, Allen collecting the half slab he has in the fridge. We are sprawled on my three-quarter bed, slurping tubes, discussing fucking. The youths are soon demonstrating their favorite position, which is no surprise. Allen lies on the bed while Wayne's love hole rides his member. The lads are soon into it and I am pushed, forgotten again, to the bottom of my bed. This time there is no free shag hole. Allen's is flat on the bed while the boys' mouths are tangled in tonguing passion. As I sat watching arse pound cock I figured that that ring could stretch some more. I place both my arms on Wayne's shoulders forcing him deeper into his buddy's embrace and work my greedy cock up the crammed butt crevice. Wayne yells but I am pinning him, Allen just moans an "ohhyehh" past Wayne's tongue. Now I am the one doing the moving, my dick fucking Wayne's hole while it masturbates Allen's buried cock.

It is a long ecstatic root with me in charge, as I like; them lost into each other. My orgasm cums when Wayne arse pulsates as he blows due to his prick's position on Allen's rippling muscle six-pack. He first forces back on both our cocks but then attempts to escape their combined pressure. I hold him where he belongs and his arse ripples extract my jizt, flooding his hole, anointing his boyfriend's dick. We break, talk sex again. Allen's cock is not satiated, my never is.

"How about another sandwich," I suggest as I finger Allen's butt just as he plays with his buddy's.

"I prefer the smargust board," is Wayne's comment and that fine with us fuckers. This time I am passive on the bottom with Wayne's back to me, Allen pumping butt, massaging my confined dick till he blows all over it.

They leave, their tongues to occupied to say 'go night', disappearing to bath, bed, and buggery together upstairs. This leaves my loose end still hard. The night is well advanced but given my drugged state I am not tired. I can still go out but would I find arse as willing as that hanging up out the back. My mind is on Nick again. The three or four hours he has hung is not enough punishment for what he did to me.

But now I am punishing myself. I decide what to do. I go out and release him but say nothing, leaving the bag over his head. He knows to be quite. I use the lead to drag him stumbling back to my room. I have ties which I use to fix an arm and a leg to the legs of my bed. One arm I tie to the lowboy which leaves one leg free which helps me penetrate him. He is prone. I leave the bag on and jam my log's length into his guts giving him my jizt. After, I enter a drugged, drunken doze, relieved an arsehole is there for me when needed.

Ch. 8 Christmas Present

The alarm for the last day of work has me looking at Nick tempting butt hole. Then I remember my last fertilization was a nitration, so I release him and follow him to the bathroom. I have my morning hard-on so I bend him and enter again in the shower recess. It is a strange squelchy root where my dick is like a plug in a dike. I blow and pull out. I move to one side but my spunk and nitrates, caramelized by the their anal baking spew hitting the wall of the cubicle splashing me.

"You'll pay for that," I promise, "be here tonight when I get home." I turn the water on and Nick, on his knees soaps and cleans me. The last day at work is about clean-up, getting final pay and farewell drinks with work mates. This last, sitting knee to knee with muscular blokes around a bar table is tough given my current hyper sexed state but I drink till sunset eating at the pub. The pay and bonuses are as expected so I arrive back at the house happy as well as horny.

I have to pack so while getting my gear together (a walk-on bag) I check if Nick is about, outback, in his room, but he is not. I finish packing and as I go for a slash I wonder what to do for my last night in Darwin. There he is, as I ordered, waiting in the shower recess; naked. I go into the recess and reward him by letting his mouth dissolve my dick. I came into the bathroom to piss and so that is what I do even though I am stiff. The near erection prolongs relief as he voids his throat for me to fill, which I do. Nick, kneeling, is able to swallow as he undresses me; work boots and sox, then my jeans. I strip off my singlet. He finishes sucking hard to capture the last of my bladder. He licks my rank feet, tonguing between my toes

I handed him the soap as I turn on the shower. He cleans my chest and stomach, pausing to play with my nipples, belly-button. He sensuously washes my back, till he kneels at my bum. He tries to wash my anus with his finger but I backhand him. He then sinks his pendulous tongue into my sphincter. Tongue and hand continue to degrime down the back of my legs; cleansing my feet; licking my toes. I look down as he shuffles round before me. While his hands wash my legs, his mouth teases my cock but holds back drawing my spunk. I am readied for tonight. I need relief from the blokinessexcess at the pub and now the sensuous wash. Nick hopes the beating he expects will be all the more vigorous if I am sexually tense.

A towel hangs over my rock hard rod as we wander unabashed to the ruin; 'nude dudes'. The key is linked to his right tit ring. He opens the door leaving the key attached to him. I sample the stimulants Nick has for me. I order him to tie his legs to the binds he had installed on the wall. He proffered his arse as he bends to comply. I used my fingers and cock to loosen and lobe his arse, priming it for my needs. I use my hand to slap the buttocks bring ecstatic moans from my helot. After he ties his legs wide he stands, arms stretched for me to star bind him. I have had Nick a couple of times like this and given that he is as tall as I am I found it not an ideal height for my cock. I pull both arms down and tie them separately at the elbows, a foot apart, chest height on the exposed woodwork. This meant his back is exposed to my flagellation at forty-five degrees, his butt is floating in space. My cock is a shuttle that docks often during this procedure. His back can be bombarded by the garbage cabling of the space around him.

Christmas Eve had not seen an afternoon storm. As our dissipation begins, a sudden wind heralds a downpour with extreme lightening. Nick's whipping and sodomising is accompanied by this cacophony of light and sound. I am bouncing his butt, one hand on his shoulder for balance, the other beating his right buttock as I ride his bod to my blow. At that moment there is a blast of lightening illuminating Nick's subjugation in reflections and blowing the corrugated iron out of the window with an explosion. The mirrors crack, cabling hanging from the walls send charges to the ether. Thank fortune we are not on conductive surfaces but we shudder in static copulation. My orgasmic thrill cum-down makes me realize there is complete silence, no wind or rain. I look at my watch, the only thing I still wear. It is midnight.

Then we are blasted by a force of wind and rain through the exposed window frame as the eye of the storm passes. Lightening exposes me in the shattered mirrors still swinging out of Nick's arse our bodies drenched by warm rain. I pull out, undo one of his arms and go to the couch, which is out side the wind's direction. Nick joins me when he frees himself. We drink, smoke, swallow, sniff and huddle as the elements invade our sanctuary. While he sucks my cock back to strength, I work a thin cable through both grommets in his ears leaving the ends as reins down his back. I slap his tenderized skin then push fingers into his plug hole, wondering how I should abuse it for these last few hours it is mine. That activity develops naturally as I force more and more of my hand and then knuckle past his sphincter. We sniff amyl as I go to work expanding his hole for my fist.

I use the reins to direct him to kneel beside the remnants of the couch. I am standing on one leg the other leg is kneeling next to Nick's body on the couch. All this happens with an intensity that matches the tempest that is sweeping around the ruin. Our ancient sanctum creaks and more bits of it blows away as I concentrate on Nick's inner sanctum. Lightening regularly show my fist, well past the wrist but mostly I feel that bowel my dick made its own. My hands are occupied: the right up his pass, the left slapping his buttocks, manipulating the reins to ease impediments. I get Nick to wank my tool. After a time this is not enough; I want to hide the sausage. I slid my right fist back to a hand, knuckles poised at his ring making a gap that I can push my hard head through. Despite the tight angle most of my inches slip readily past my hand into his behind.

What I am not able to do is get my fist back in. His rectum is too small, their are bones in the way. I reckon if women can give birth my hebitch can take cock and fist together. I pull back high on the reins making him arch his neck back. This dips his back raising his arse high. My wrist screws under and in to embrace my dick. He screams pain like I have never heard him before as I terrorize his Khyber. I relax the reigns and Nick's arse comes to terms with the muscular extrusion whose purpose is to satisfy a muscular intrusion. My fingers wrap shaft while my cock's crown pistons forward time and again. I sometimes withdraw, cock, hand, both. I turn him to face me while I work on his arse with both my hands. I can tell by his granite cock, satiated eyes that this is one form of fucking he appreciated. I remove one hand and use it to tease him; wanking his cock the way he does not like. I am surprised to see him groan as he does before a blow.

I smear his jizt on his stomach and relax sitting on the floor next to him, wiping my hand on the towel my cock had carried to the room. I am disturbed when through the noise of the storm I hear Nick's familiar snore. I am annoyed as we have plenty of time and him slacking off is shameful. I stand and look down on a beaut though battered bod, his butt on the couch edge cock and balls hanging. I slap his testes with my hand. He stirs with a mumbled: "no more". Furious I take up a line of cable and soon have him apologizing and begging me to fuck him again. The whipping has stirred my cock to life so he had no needed to beg. I take the lobe reins, turning him as pull him towards the end of the couch that still has the arm. I tie his arms separately near the elbow with the cable that is passing through his ears.

The taunt cable means his head is bent up, hard up against the arm. This in turn bends his back forcing butt in the air. Nick pulls his legs up under him on the couch. The continuing tempus both tempers and typhoons my emotion, my meat's motion, terrifying my dick-taker, terrificing our energy together. I have yet to satisfy my determination to wank myself up him. I force my fist and cock, together past his ring. This time rather than fucking Nick's hole through my hand I start wank my cock within it. My tool, emboldened, drags me deeper as I wanker into his butt. I climax again hearing bells jingle. It must be wind chimes making me realize that the weather is calm. My hand, dick and Nick's arsehole are smothered with my spunk.

A little later I whip his exhausted form awake again forcing him to rest his chin on the couch's arm but I pull back on his reins and make him take my limp meat in his mouth. I steadily use the odd angle his throat to stimulate my dick back to hard. Every push by my dick batters his tonsils out of the way. How this mouth has improved as a source of fun in the last week. I climax again down his throat and this time I hear horns blow. Nick passes out again my creamy emissions dribbling down his chin much as they leak from his arse. The horn blows again. Shit! Of course it is my taxi. I pull out of his body for the last time. I dash from the ruin slamming the door.

The horn blows for a third time and the taxi starts to leave as I cross the drive to my room. The driver shines a spot at the house and it picks up my naked form. I wave but expect the vehicle to flee all the quicker. It does not and as I jump naked, with my bag, into the back seat I thank the, lady, driver.

I dress and ask her to stop at Colin's on the way to the airport. I do not expect him to be up but as he promised he is ready for me. I tell him how Nick is in the fuckroom, he gives me an envelope that when I inspect it in the cab I am amazed to see has thousands of dollars in it. But why pay for something he could have for nothing? It shows Nick that he values as well as owns him. With his Russian Nick could be of value to Colin. Is it that there is honor amongst pimps, top men, slavers? I do not see myself as any of these but I am happy to launder his drug money. Now that this actually came off, I decide to see it as an exchange of Christmas presents.