13 comments/ 145709 views/ 31 favorites Drive Ch. 01 By: DiMarino "Drive you home, Chris?" The young blond stopped at the door and looked back at his night's employer. The eighteen-year-old's pulse began racing. He'd thought the older man wasn't going to. "Sure, Mr. Mathers." Another week. Another babysitting job at Mathers' home. Another drive. Chris lived an eight-minute walk from Mathers' house. Somehow, Mathers' wife never asked why driving the boy home often took half an hour. Sometimes more. The first time wasn't Chris' idea. Lou Mathers had gotten the boy's number from a friend. His wife was away for the weekend. Lou called for a babysitter. When Chris showed up, Lou stayed. There were questions. Hypotheticals. Showing. Touching. A meaty arm around Chris' shoulders, leading him into the bedroom. Pain. Ecstacy. A sore ass, and sticky underwear for the walk home. The next week, Lou called again. It was a legitimate job, while he and his wife visited friends. They came home, and Lou acted as though nothing taudry had ever happened in the bedroom. "Drive you home, Chris?" Sure, Mr. Mathers. Chris glanced beside him in the dim car. The only light came from the low-playing radio. Lou hummed along to most songs, singing along quietly when he knew the words. That wasn't often. The houses grew more sparse along the road. The trees, more dense. Chris began noticing the peculiar shapes of a few along the road. This was the seventh time Lou had offered the ride. Ten minutes of driving, and Lou pulled the car over to the shoulder. He reached to turn the radio off, and in the last second or two of light, Chris looked over the man next to him. Forty-six. Portly. Balding. Thick black frames to his thin-lensed glasses. Greying mustach. Still in the suit he wore to work that morning. Still smelling of generic aftershave and Dial soap. "Well..." Seventh time. Same opening line. "Looks far enough, eh? Why don't you, um, come a little closer..." Chris edged his hips along the older car's bench seat. A thick arm reached around the boy's lower right side, the hand cupping a soft mound encased in denim. Squeezing. Smoothing. Lou's right arm swept around Chris' back, gripping the boy's shoulder from behind. Lou pulled the slender, petite body closer. Closer. Thin lips advanced on the boy's full, alluring pout. Moist kisses. Harder gropes. A father of three daughters pushed his tongue into the mouth of the son he'd never had. Lou liked to pretend that way. Chris lolled his head back slowly. He sighed, kisses running down his neck. Buttons popping loose on his shirt collar. More. Lou pushed the fabric open, licking along the thin boy's visible clavicle. The grunting started. Lou moaned against the boy's milky skin. He was sure it sounded sexy. To Chris, it always reminded him of a pig rooting through a fresh trough. Lips closed around a pert nipple on a hairless chest, and sucked. Chris gave his first whimper of the evening. Lou exhaled his thinly-whiskered grin. He shifted position, onto his right hip. The familiar bulge in his pants pressed into the crotch of Chris' jeans. "Take 'em off, son." Chris' hands steadily went to his waist. The top button and four more down the fly popped open with the same soft, inaudible shudder. Lou's chubby fingers reached for the warm flesh of the boy's naked belly. For skin and bones, the boy was the softest, supplest thing he'd ever felt. Obviously queer. That made it okay to use him. The natural blond fought against the seat to get the jeans off of his hips. Off of his thighs. His calves. His ankles. Lou's meaty hand flattened to the boy's crotch, rubbing circles over the soft white hair and the thick, half-erect organ it surrounded. "Come on, come on. On your back." Lou stole a quick glance at the darkness outside the car. No headlights on this road. No house lights. He looked back to the boy, licking his fingers as he perused the barest outline of the body lying before him. Lou always stared at Chris when his wife didn't notice, memorizing the boy for just these moments. Chris spread his legs. The dampened fingers rubbed at the tight pucker lying in wait. Chris heard a short zipper pull down. The light sound of fabric rumpling. Lou's grunt as his briefs pulled down and his bulge was freed. More saliva, this time wetting the head of a penis that had been stiffening since before they'd left Lou's house. A smooth, wet dome pressed to Chris' hole. The hard shaft driving it pushed it steadily into the boy's body, stretching the rectum as it entered. One inch. Two. Four. Seven. Lou groaned out a low breath as his loaded balls pressed to tender flesh. He pulled out until the lip of his cockhead caught on Chris' seizing sphinchter. Lou pushed back in. Pulled back out. The hot friction made the boy squirm. Pant. Moan. Almost like struggling. Enough for Lou to like it. Thick hands touched behind the boy's knees, spreading Chris' thighs wider apart. Lou leaned down, nearly lying atop of him. A broad, hot lick along a taut, porcelain cheek. A heavy hand gripping the boy's chin, forcing him still for a lurid kiss. Lou's tongue dove inside, lapping at his babysitter's. Chris fought for a look between his legs. It wasn't easy in the darkeness, nor past the hanging paunch of Lou's stomach. The boy's erection was full by now, in perfect position to keep Chris from seeing Lou's shaft entering him. He could still see Lou's hips rolling back and forth. Still felt the veiny pole driving into him. No lube. No condom. Only hard human flesh, burning from the libidinous blood surging through it. Lou's spit was little help. Chris whimpered from the discomfort. Lou stroked in him faster. Chris closed his eyes tightly. The darkness in the car was a blessing, but he wanted no chance of seeing Lou during the inveitable moment when Chris silently admitted that he liked it. It could be any man, and Chris would like it. It had nothing to do with a chunky suburban loan officer. Chris didn't want the seven inches buried in him. They just happened to be there. Lou raised onto his knees, gripping the boy's legs to keep him spread. The space left Chris able to reach for his own erection and stroke it. The boy's head thrashed from side to side on the fake leather seat. The cushions creaked and hissed from the exertions they supported. This was where Lou's wife sat. Where his daughters sat. Now the same spot where Lou habitually fucked his babysitter. The male babysitter. Sweat beaded on Chris' skin in the closed car. It poured off of Lou's forehead, feeling like warm rain on the boy's stomach. The windows were fogged and starting to condense. Chris lie jostling on his back, biting his lip to keep himself quiet. Lou loved that sound. He waited for it. Lived for it. "Hoo, yeah. Let me hear it, son. Come on, jerk it faster. Faster. That's better. Gonna cum, son? Are you? Come on...." Chris fought it every time. He wanted Lou to leave satisfied - it would mean another job another week. But Chris didn't want to enjoy it. Lou always got the impression that making the boy cum meant that he was an unparallelled god to both sexes. A candle and ten minutes could do the same thing; it meant nothing. Yet every other day, Lou would spot Chris around town. His beefy hands would grip either side of his belt buckle. He'd wait until Chris saw him, then give his pants a short tug. Remember this? It made you cream yourself last Thursday. So do yearbook pictures of the diving team. Whatever. In the end, it was always a losing battle. Chris kept his teeth clenched, gasping loudly through them. Lou rolled his hips faster, longing to see how red his prize equipment made the boy's hole. Maybe one of these days, he'd spring for a motel room a town over and find out. Short, fast moans left the boy's voice. The tortured song of lust culminated in a deep scream made louder by the closed windows. Spurts of hot fluid splashed onto Chris' naked stomach. Some reached past his ribs. The semen lost its heat quickly, even against Chris' sweaty flesh. "Rub it in, son." Exhausted to be spent and still participating in the bout of intercourse, Chris obeyed. His slender hands ran over his stomach, feeling out cooling, slimey gobs of sperm and coating his skin with them like a lotion. He was always too tired to shower when he got home, and the cum liked to stick to his bedclothes. Chris brought his coated fingers up to his lips. He sucked off the thick patches. Licked off the rest. Lou loved listening to it. Lou's hands slipped under the boy's hips, squeezing the curvaceous buttocks savagely. It also gave him enough purchase on Chris' body to slam his meat in deeper. The laboured wheezing was starting now. Lou's face must be purple. "Here comes your tip, Chris..." Wow. Just as funny the seventh time. Lou growled out loudly in the enclosed car. Twice. Three times. Each punctuated by a burst of hot ejactulate spraying deep into Chris' ass. That sensation, as usual, made Chris try to wriggle out of Lou's hold. The son of a bitch could at least blow the wad into a rubber. But, no. Barebacking was just one of those things Lou got off on. Like Chris' struggling. Lou pinned him, forcing a last tongueing and adding a few more slaps of his crotch to Chris' cheeks. Each final thrust spit one more drop of sperm into the boy. Lou beamed his pleasure in the faint moonlight. Chris glared at him from the darkness of his lower position. "Alright..." Lou wrested his penis out of the boy quickly. Again with that odd, soft thpt sound from the accrued vacuum. "Get your clothes on." The return drives were as quiet as the first halves. What was there to talk about? Going out, Lou was only interested in having sex with the small town's homosexual. White trash, even if he did have a middle-class mother and absent white-collar father, perfect for using up and disposing of. Coming back, Chris was sticky, sleepy, and grudgingly satisfied for another twenty-four hours. "You sure are a pretty little thing." Christ, don't try striking a conversation now... "As much as I like that mouth open, it's good you're a boy who knows when to keep it shut." It was good for me, too. Thanks. "You, um, keeping Thursdays open now?" "Not especially. No one else has called for one yet." "I think you should start." Chris looked over to the night's employer. Lou stared out at the road confidently. His lips pursed. His chin stiffened, approving of his decision. Feeling virile over laying a teenager, making him climax, and doling orders to be at his elder's beckoned call. Don Juan triumphant. The rest of the trip to Chris' house was quiet. Summer crickets. Excitable dogs. Tires crackling over gravel and through turns on the pavement. But no talking. Lou's brakes were developing the fainest squeaking as the car pulled up to the curb. Lou grunted out a weary breath, twisting to reach into his pants pocket. A folded stack of bills stood ready for the counting. Lou licked his thumb before leafing through them. Under a street lamp, Chris could see him looking at the boy through the frivolous gesture. He expected Chris to find any view of his tongue a turn-on. "That's that. Go get yourself in a shower, faggot." Chris stopped after his first step away from the car. "If you don't like me, why don't you let your daughters sit themselves?" Lou gazed back at him from inside the car, as though the answer were the most obvious ever discovered. "I like you a lot, son. You can't get pregnant, and my wife would get wise if Daddy kept taking his girls out for rides. Thursday. Six o'clock." Lou drove off for home. Chris looked down to the bills in his hands, recounted his night's wages. Fifteen bucks for babysitting. A sore rectum full of sperm for giving a middle-aged man an orgasm. Fifty dollars for keeping quiet about it. Drive Ch. 02 Lou's car pulled up to the pair of dim spaces at the side of a small white service station. At least, Chris thought it had been white at one time. Dust, exhaust fumes from the single repair bay, cigarette smoke, and god only knew what else had dulled and muddled the exterior paint since its 1940s completion. The lack of illumination didn't help, either. One covered utility light hung out from the wall between two dingy and peeling doors. Its bulb had probably blown years ago, leaving the parking spaced bathed in a darkness only broken by the soft overspill of the lone street lamp around the building's corner. The gloomy appearance wasn't a surprise, when Chris thought about it. Lou seemed to prefer conducting his Thursday night escapades under the blind eye of darkness. "I'll be right back, son. Have to see the man about the key. Don't do anything, don't talk to anyone, until I get back. Understand me?" Chris humored him with a nod, watching the older man toddle off in the side mirror. The real purpose for this stop was anyone's guess, but it certainly wasn't to use the one bathroom. Lou had taken care of that before leaving his house. He'd also taken a different road than usual, driven farther. Chris noticed, no matter how heavily-wooded and similar the route may have looked. The sudden, small hope that Lou had finally decided to stop for condoms crossed the boy's mind. Better late than never, he supposed. The portly man's reflection ambled back into view. Rather, the movements of its outline did. If Chris hadn't been so familiar with Lou's shadow after eight weeks, he'd have been hard-pressed to make the figure out at all. Outside the car door, Lou came to a stop, with waggling jerkings of his thumb motioning for the boy to get out. Chris seemed to be the only one between them concerned with watching around them for any unwlecomed spectators. Lou knew the area too well to bother. The station sat far from the freeways and thoroughfares. Languished there. All of the business that kept it operating came from small-scale farmers filling tractors and equipment. Farmers all at home and predictably asleep at ten-thirty on a Thursday night. The only person anywhere within earshot was an attendant inside the tiny shop. A grizzled, wiry old man Lou had effectively silenced with a hundred-dollar bill, and the promise of more interesting entertainment than listening to Hank Williams on a worn-out cassette. The power crackled on inside the unlocked restroom with Lou's slap at the switch. Even the light looked dirty as Chris took in their close quarters. The small, dingy room didn't reek, but certainly possessed its own unique odors. What did smell unpleasant was unexpectedly the lingering scent of straight chewing tobacco. Stains of brown marred the back panel of the sink, doubling as a spitoon for the regular patrons. "Take 'em off, son." The blunt request broke Chris' concentration, refocusing his attention on the night's employer. Lou leaned back to the wall opposite from the outside door, a hand already touching to his crotch. "What... in here??" "You're welcome to strip in the parking lot." Chris started at the man for several seconds, but it quickly became obvious that Lou wasn't joking. The man had intended from the start to sodomize his babysitter in this pit of a bathroom. And honestly? The prospect was getting Chris stiff. The thought, the danger of just anyone mistakenly walking in on them, was seductive. The chance that someone would walk in on purpose, however, was to be a different matter. The boy had pulled his loose long-sleeved teeshirt halfway up his torso, when the door did in fact open. The old man who'd given Lou the restroom key stood in the doorway, looking over the startled and frozen blond with lecherous appreciation. An approving sharp whistle, aided by a mouth missing most of its teeth pierced the room's quiet. "I tell you, he got a body just like that skinny red-haired boy, worked here a summer back in '71. Whoo, always wanted to get that child back in here alone." "What the fuck is this?" A light slap, meant only to get the boy's attention, landed across Chris' cheek. Lou's fingers immediately touched for a gentle drag down the same spot once the startled brown eyes were focused on him. His other hand produced a folded but obvious hundred note from a pocket, and tapped it to the boy's chin. "Watch your mouth in front of your grandpa, son. He gets to touch, I get into you. Do as you're told, son, and everybody leaves here much, much happier." "He a cocksucker?" Chris' eyes cut to the old man's expression of genuine curiosity in his own disbelief. Lou, meanwhile, pursed his lips as he mulled the question over. "I don't know, pop. Haven't had the pleasure of finding out yet. But then, all fags are, aren't they?" "You son of a bitch..." A harder slap met with Chris' cheek. Controlled. Certainly not all the strength Lou could have put behind it. Still enough to prickle and burn. "I told you to watch that mouth. If you want something more loving than that plunger handle shoved up your ass, you damn well better start respecting your elders. Now, your daddy and grandpa want you naked, boy." Chris' hands again reached - slowly - for the bottom of his shirt. All the while, his eyes followed the ambling movements of the old man. This "pop" of Lou's crossed the short path behind Chris to retreive a plastic milk crate from the corner next to the sink, and use it for a chair. Lou, himself, seemed content to watch from his place standing by the wall. The shirt left Chris' hairless torso at last, getting hung on the lone, small hook affixed to the door. Stepping out of his sneakers and onto the grimy floor on his bare feet wasn't partcularly appealing, but Chris brought himself to do it. In spite of the summer night outside, the tiling was colder than he expected. The chilly shock raised goose flesh and perked his small nipples. He could hear the old man licking his lips. Down to only his jeans and nothing underneath them, Chris fumbled with the buttonfly for the first time in his life. Something about the stranger in the room was more disconcerting than he'd intitially figured on. Lou noticed. He ordered the blond to turn, and give the old man the pleasure of undoing the buttons for his "grandson". Hands that felt made half of crepe paper and half of toughened leather pulled the opened pants down to Chris' ankles, then rose to manually inspect the freshly disrobed young skin. It felt more like being a colt under a judge's eye at a livestock show, than being seduced. Especially so when the old man hefted Chris' balls in his hand, as if noting their weight. "The missus bore you quite a virile little boy, sonny." Chris' eyes narrowed at the old man's words. He really thought Chris was Lou's son? It wasn't beyond believing that Lou could have told him so, himself. The old man looked to be enjoying the lie greatly, either way. The creepy examination gradually turned to an earnest fondling, one Chris reluctantly felt himself hardening to. "Mmm, very nice, child. Bet the girls'd love this, if you didn't love your daddy's so much. Like things in your mouth, boy? Like having something to suck on? 'Course, you do. Your ol' gramps has something for you. Get down there, and unwrap it." The layers of grime on the floor made Chris want to refuse. The fact of being naked between two clothed men, however, made it seem like there wasn't much choice to be had. Chris sank to his bare knees, immediately feeling something oily stick to his skin. The old man leaned back and shifted his bony hips forward. His legs spread wide to display the crotch of worn grey mechanic's pants. Chris popped the center button and pulled down the zipper's tab, willing down the nausea in his throat over the thought of what he was about to do. His temporary grandfather took the initiative to help matters along by pulling a small penis with a sheath looking made of rumpled tissue paper through the front door of threadbare white briefs. Inexperience reared its head in the form of a nervous shudder. Chris had stolen looks at pictures and film clips through his mother's computer before, wasn't wholly ignorant of what to do, but knowing and making himself do it were hardly the same thing. Finesse was virginally absent as his young mouth closed around the penis of a man easily four times his age. A weathered hand slipped behind the boy's neck to keep him from rearing back. The old man sighed, relaxed his posture, and wriggled himself against Chris' lips. Stiffening in the shaft was slow, but soon noticeable, giving the boy something to work on. Closing his eyes tightly, Chris gave an earnest suck on the withered organ. Pulled his mouth back. Leaned in for the slicked shaft to repenetrate his lips. The fingers behind his neck rubbed and petted at the skin. The hips in front of him bucked up sporadically to thrust the small dick towards his throat. Not at all how Chris had pictured his first blowjob, but it... it felt... it tasted... good. Natural. Obscene. Yet, that was possibly the best part. He wanted more. Something akin to instinct drove him to get it. Chris' tongue cradled the undershaft. Licking, caressing, all the while his lips were bobbing faster. The attendant was in ecstacy, mummbling about things Chris was glad not to have a coherant translation of. Behind the distracted youth, Lou lowered down with a knee to either side of the boy's knelt and clamped legs. The sounds of wet suckling and lusty groans confined in the minescule bathroom had the man unhooking his belt and opening his zipper quickly. The sight of watching the naked boy he'd groomed into his personal bitch servicing a stranger with abandon had Lou's cock out in the open and receiving a slow beating. Chris shivered at the first touches of thick hands on his back. The palms made hot by fastly pulsing blood rubbed from the bottom of the boy's spine, up to hook over his shoulders, and back again. Three times, four, this caressing went on. It was soothing. Calming. Blinding to the moment when those hands stopped on Chris' hips. One aiming touch of head to hole, and Lou ploughed into his babysitter with one thrust. Chris cried out around the old man's shaft, but the attendant wouldn't let him pull off to give a proper scream of pain. Barked orders to keep sucking snapped out from both men. Lou's pounding sent rhythmic tremors through the boy's body, jostling the attendant's cock in Chris' mouth in a way that had the old man howling in the close room. Lou's dry shaft pumped the tight anal sleeve ruthlessly, far too turned on by the fantasy brought to life to bother with any measure of care. The old man pistoned in the blond's mouth almost as hard to watch as this perverted father took his own son like a cheap hooker. From the sounds of his moans and gasps, the little queer must be used to it. The oral and anal violations fast became too much for the boy, evidenced by the drops of sperm being tossed around the floor beneath him from the bouncing erection between his legs. Getting him so worked up and rattled first got the boy off without even needing to touch him, leaving his employer free to chase his own fulfilment singlemindedly. Lou would have to remember that. The old man strongly slapped his hips up to Chris' face a few times, then pulled out suddenly. Chris' eyes opened at the unexpected move, only to close again instantly when a hot streak of sperm squirted out along the side of his nose. Lou's pushing shoved the boy's cheek up against the cockhead just as another milky burst sprayed out. A thumb shoved into Chris' mouth, pulling his jaw down and holding his mouth open for the head leaking its orgasm to trace around the soft, full lips and rub on the boy's tongue. The attendant sat back on his crate heavily, stroking himself back into a state of calm. Lou took the opportunity to pull out of Chris and push the boy's back onto the vile flooring. Precious few seconds of struggling from both the blond and his employer, and Lou's dick was once more vaulted up Chris' ass. Chris contiuned fighting against being pinned to the disgusting textures beneath him. Every attempted shove only aroused the much heavier man into fucking the boy harder. Chris let out a loud, frustrated grunt through clenched teeth. Lou responded by giving the side of the blond's ass a hard slap, and lying down on the boy completely. His tongue lolled out, dragging over Chris' face and pushing around the old man's cum. It was useless to try turning away from the moist onslaught. Lou clamped his mouth on the boy's, sticking his tongue through the lips that had just given their first blowjob. The portly man kept the kiss sealed, moaning deeply into Chris' mouth as an orgasm saved up for days flooded up into the young body. Caught between the icy floor and Lou's feverish bulk, Chris' body spasmed violently at the abhorment of gettng filthy and the unwanted pleasure of being filled. Lou virtually collapsed atop of the small body. Slender legs draped limp over his stout thighs. The sound of a ragged voice's delighted chuckles reached them from their added participant. Eventually, Lou forced himself back up onto his knees, letting inertia and the limited elasticity of his flesh pull his cock out of Chris. Lou pulled up his pants and zipped with a satisfied grin to look the spent body over. The tiny white waterfall of semen dripping from the boy's raw sphincter was a thing of twisted beauty. The man nudged his sitter less than gently, adding growls to get dressed that were slowly and exhaustedly obeyed. As Chris finally stood, the thin fall of sperm trickled down the inside of his leg, collecting in a tiny pool on the floor. The boy staggered more than walked to retreive his clothes from the hook, assisted in putting them back on by two extra pairs of hands eager to get in a final groping. Lou ordered the blond out to the car. He got no argument nor hesitation. Waiting until the car door closed soundly, his hushed voice turned to the attendant who'd shared his favorite toy. "Have a marker on you, pop?" The men parted with matching smiles once the instrument exchanged hands. The attendant left for the station's storefront, his pace slow from a satisfaction it seemed he hadn't felt in ages. Lou took the few steps back to face the wall opposite from the bathroom's entrance. He scrawled out large letters declaring CHRIS MULCAHY IS A CUM CATCHING SLUT - AND HIS DADDY KNOWS BEST. Crude stick figures in a doggy position were added nearby, repleat with smaller text in a word bubble depicting the figure on all fours begging his once-a-week "father" for more and clusters of tiny hearts floating over its circular head. Laughing to himself under his breath at his creativity, Lou capped the felt tip and left the bathroom to drive his whore home. Drive Ch. 03 "I need a room for the rest of the night. One bed, double or bigger." Lou huffed and cleared his throat, flipping up the ends of a couple twenties in his clip. His sausage link fingers handed the money over. The motel clerk considered the middle-aged man without a word. Decent suit. Not great. Clean. Trimmed hair. His eyes cut over to the man's car. Older. Well-kept. Probably sentimental over it. Or too cheap to trade up. One passenger waited inside of it. A young man. Blond. Slender. No - delicate. That's what his wife would call it. The boy didn't look like he could be out of high school yet. The cigarette in the clerk's mouth shifted to the opposite corner of his lips while he studied the older man again. It was just business. And none of his own. Lou took the key, walking back to his car to move it. Chris said nothing. He hadn't since the night's employer had unexpectedly picked him up from the sidewalk not a quarter mile from his house. The car stopped in the space in front of door twenty-two. Lou gave Chris the key, telling him to go inside while Lou went to the trunk. The knob rattled loosely when Chris opened it. Inside, he immediately noticed the smell of stale smoke. The carpet might as well have been a stretch of muslin, as worn down and crushed as it looked. A small television sat on the end of a Fifties bureau, and not one of the more attractive designs. Cables streamed down the back, no attempt made to hide them. A brief, tattered list of films and start times lay next to the set. Chris was sure that it had been a long time since "Farmer's Daughters" or "Gone with the Skin" had stopped airing, but the feed that broadcast them was no doubt still serving up similar fare. Chris dropped the listing down and headed for the bathroom. Releiving himself gave him a moment to look the room over. All of the porcelain was clean. It was, however, best not to ponder whether the tile grout was black by design or neglect. Chris fastened the buttonfly and washed his hands, something he knew he'd be wanting to do a lot in this room. His hands braced on the sink's edge. The room's front door opened and closed. Chris glanced behind himself at the closed bathroom door to listen. At least one paper bag was involved. He could hear Lou's quiet, sighed grunt. The one that usually meant things were going his way. Chris looked back to his reflection. He looked well enough. His short blond hair and long bangs clean and neat. No rough edges to his fingernails. The preparatory enema that had become a Thursday morning ritual over and done. Chris took the sides of his open shirt collar for an inspecting sniff. His skin smelled of nothing but fading soap and the detergent on his clothes. Chris had cologne, but had stopped wearing it completely more than two months ago. The last thing he wanted Lou thinking was that the boy put any special effort into their Thursdays. With a slow sigh, Chris pushed himself upright. They were here for a purpose, after all. Maybe if the sex was hard enough, they could sleep through the rest of the night that much sooner. Chris opened the bathroom door. He found himself face-to-face with a large black lense at the other side of the queen bed's foot. Lou glanced up from the camcorder's viewpiece with a filthy smile. "It's Thursday, August seventh, six forty-nine P.M. This pretty blond thing is my son - all night long. Say 'fuck me' for the camera, son." Chris stood in the doorway, his arms folded. "What is that?" "It's a video camera. I want to record our, um, first night of real privacy." "Whether I like it or not?" "Exactly. I'm footing all the bills tonight, son. Now, if you want your tip, you'll do things my way." "No condoms and cum stains inside my jeans? Yeah, real nice tip." Lou set the running camera down next to the television. It recorded every movement as he strode to the bathroom door and strongly backhanded the boy across his mouth. The strike dropped Chris to the floor. Lou reached into his hip pocket, pulling out something jangling as he knelt next to Chris' body. The camera didn't pick up anything more than light ratcheting sounds from behind the blind of the bed's edge. Seconds later, the boy was picked up and tossed face-down on the covers. Chris' wrists were handcuffed behind his back. Moments of grumbles and muttering echoed lowly in the room. Lou hastily unfastened and pulled Chris' jeans off, growling at his captive the whole time. The boy's shirt was a less delicate matter, with his arms largely immobilized. Lou merely ripped it to pieces. Chris lie naked on the stiff bedding within a minute. Lou began flat-palmed, heavy slaps across the boy's curvy backside. Every slap was chased by a rub and a grope of the flesh. Slap after slap. Mummbled threat after mummbled threat. By the time Lou shifted his position, Chris' delicate skin glowed a dark pink. The red outlines of thick fingers were still clearly visible. Lou stood up on his knees behind Chris' prone figure. He made a big reveal of unzipping his trousers and exposing himself to the lens. His smooth, circumsized cockhead traced up and down the hairless divide between Chris' reddened mounds. A wad of saliva aimed to fall against the tight young hole was all the concession Chris was going to get. Screaming was not an option. Chris instead gave a restrained cry of pain as Lou shoved in without preamble. From the first, the thrusting was deep, steady, and fast. Lou ringed his fingers around the base of his shaft. He knelt on his left knee, braced with his leg up on his right foot. It allowed him to keep his thighs spread wide, so the camera wouldn't miss an instant of the forty-six-year-old penis repeatedly vanishing up into the eighteen-year-old boy. The burning and aching brought out Chris' growls and yelps. The boy looked up to the lens that glared back at him. The thought of others being shown Lou's conquest sooner or later crossed his thoughts, raising the heat of an embarassed blush to his face. Jumping right into bed, at least, would likely put an early end to the evening. They could both be home, lying to their respective families within the hour. Lou's wheezing began seconds later. Chris braced himself for the hot ooze on its way. Lou pulled out of Chris and quickly crept up the boy's body to straddle his ribcage from over his back. One hand grabbed the back of Chris' soft hair, pulling enough for the camera to see the most of his feminine features, smooth and unmarred by puberty. Lou's other hand beat off on his erection feverishly. It took only seconds to summon a milky orgasm. Splashes and streaks of white sperm shot across the boy's cheeks and lips. Chris' mouth opened for a wordless gripe of protest. Lou seized the opportunity to shoot his last drops at the back of the boy's throat. The head and half the shaft pushed into Chris' mouth, stroking against his tongue. Lou sat upright on his knees over the boy, waiting for his breath to slow. "You look right into that camera, and you lick up everything you can reach. Swallow every drop." Chris did as ordered. His tongue stretched out to lick around his lips, and did his best to make the swallows audible. Lou's fingers scraped the rest of the semen together in areas, wiping them off of the boy's skin, then shoving his fingers into the young mouth for Chris to suck clean. The boy earned a slap on his cheek for his obedience, only half as strong as the one that had knocked him off his feet. His current possessor rolled the lithe boy onto his back. Lou's hands held to the sides of the boy's neck, sliding up along under Chris' jaw, then travelling out to his shoulders. Sleazy massaging started everywhere Lou touched. He took slow delight in pinching the blond's pert nipples. Yanking them. Biting them. Sucking them red. Lou left the bed to stand on the floor, using the leverage to reposition the cuffed boy for his documentary. Chris soon sat with a leg to each side of the bed's corner, braced back on his joined arms. Lou's hand rubbed along the boy's stomach in long strokes. They trailed down Chris' thighs. Back up to the boy's crotch. Lou rubbed hard over the curly white hair encircling Chris' hooded penis. Always around it. Never fully touching another manhood. It was so much in keeping with Lou's usual style. To him, a gay boy was simply a girl with a dick and no chest. Pleasuring Chris by any means but anal sex was never on Lou's adgenda. It took Chris completely by surprise when Lou's thick fingers closed around the boy's stiffening shaft. Lou pulled on the sensitive flesh slowly. Tightly. Back and forth. Watching the pale foreskin cinch itself closed over the round helmet, watching it bloom and reveal the large, fertile cock going to waste. Chris was hard in Lou's grip within minutes. The man's free hand reached further between the boy's thighs, fondling the velvety sac and firm balls it found. His lips puckered, meeting Chris' with short, almost cute smooches that smacked lightly for the soundtrack. Lou began licking Chris' lips. The boy's tongue gradually came out to play willingly. Deep, open mouthed kisses followed. So did the first soft moaning from the boy's deep voice. It seemed as soon as Chris began to give, Lou stood up and moved away. Lou calmly straightened his clothes, closed his pants, and left Chris to languish on the corner in his bothered state. The man walked around him to the small table, picking up a cell phone. Chris' face fell into disbelief. The son of a bitch left him aching to make a goddamned call? To who? A pizza delivery? "Jim? Lou. Coast is clear." Three seconds. That was it. That was what couldn't wait. That was more important than pleasuring his faithful whore. Hanging up, Lou again reposed Chris on the bed, now centered between the pillows with his back to the headboard. Chris quickly poolled all of the saliva he had. He could still taste Lou's sperm lacing it. Chris spat at Lou's feet. He didn't care that he'd missed. The camera caught the venom. The man ignored it. Lou switched on the television to the complementary supply of pornography. Taking a seat by the small, square table by the window, Lou opened his briefcase. Chris glared at his captor while Lou started on finishing some random paperwork from his office. The blond snorted a quiet breath. Looking to the small screen, he hoped to be distracted from his predicament. No such luck. Two saline-enhanced women made out on the screen, soon joined by a third. Not one man to look at. Chris was sorely uninterested. The introduction of a thick double-ended dildo into their session at least stirred Chris' imagination. He should see about buying a toy or two soon. He certainly had enough of Lou's money to pay for them. Maybe a good vibrator could replace Lou completely. An inflatable doll could certainly replace the man's company. Half an hour's passing brought a knock on the door. Lou answered it, but stepped outside the room to speak to their visitor. Granted, a bound, naked, high school senior with a film of semen dried on his face wasn't something just anyone would be prepared to see. Lou came back inside with another paper bag, this one covering a twelve pack of cheap beers. The uncovered end of the case gave it away. He set it down on the table, then walked over to close the door behind another man carrying another case. A tall man in his early fifties had followed Lou inside. His jacket and cap, both casually being removed, resplendant in brown tones of wood-themed camouflage. What he was doing here, Chris had no idea. Lou introduced the man with the scruffy, mousy brown beard littered with grays, dyed near his lips and down the middle from chewing tobacco, as Jim. He indroduced Chris as his 'son on Thursdays'. Earlier in the week, a deal had been struck out of Chris' earshot. Jim was now there move the camera. He volunteered for the job, and grinned admitting it. Jim took up residence on the bed's far corner to watch the televised orgies, his burly shape making it impossible for him to sit with his legs together. Lou tore open a cardboard case and cracked open a can. He swilled half the can down in one drink. Lou took Chris strongly by his jaw, opting to feed his restrained babysitter a drink, rather than let Chris loose. The brand of beer was actually something that tasted worse than Lou's cum, or perhaps explained the semen's flavor, but Chris swallowed it all the same. Lou returned to stroking Chris' inner thighs with fingers wet and cold from the can's condensation. Jim was ordered to pick up the camera. Lou's faintly slicked hand closed around Chris' shaft. He started stroking the boy in earnest. The fading erection Chris had been willing away rebuilt swiftly. Jim tremored the entire mattress, clamboring close to Chris' side for a shot of how long the boy's shaft was. A verbal estimate of eight inches was made. Jim smacked his lips over it, and chuckled deeply. The camera was traded from Jim's right hand to left. Now freed, Jim's right hand slipped between the blond boy's thighs to cup his balls. Trapped between their fondling, Chris orgasmed. Both men laughed lowly. Lou looked into the lens and flickered his tongue against the boy's cockhead. Jim panned further down for a close look at the white and translucent splatters along the boy's shins and feet. Jim growled deep in his throat at the sight, muttering about being ready. Lou took the camera from the man presumably more predator than hunter, filming Jim's entire disrobing. His jacket pulled off of a solid olive-colored flannel shirt. As Jim unfurled his belt and stepped out of his pants, the shirttails covered anything Jim might possess. The shirt crept open button by button, revealing pink skin with the most hair Chris had ever seen on one man. Half of it was graying and made Jim look like he was built out of stacked steel wool biscuits. Beneath a gut wider than Lou's, a semisoft erection poked up behind stretched white briefs. The underwear was quickly discarded, proving to Chris that Jim was no less hairy behind that fabric, either. The sheer amount of gray and brown hair at Jim's crotch covered half the shaft, and made his dick appear shorter. As if the man's girth wasn't making it look disproportionate enough. "See that thick nest, son? You're gonna eat that bush and suck your uncle's dick." First Grandpa, now Uncle Jim? Chris couldn't honestly say he was surprised. This was so not worth fifty dollars a week. Not anymore. Chris' revulsion at the prospect was visible, but neither man cared. Jim sat on the bed's edge and swung his legs up, scooting his ass across the covers to get closer to center and closer to Chris. He leaned in a slump on the pillows and against the headboard. Jim's legs lay spread like a frog dissection more out of necessity than showmanship. Chris wriggled upright on his knees, hands still cuffed behind him, to get the act done and over with. "Hold on, baby. Suck up that beer for your uncle and pass it over. Can and all." Chris glanced at the endtable behind himself in slow aggravation. Manoeuvering again, Chris opened his mouth over the can's rolled lip. Wider. Wider. Finally. Barely. The blond's mouth slipped around the aluminum, and Chris sucked to grip it. Damn, even the fumes from this wastewater were musty. Chris raised up carefully, but the cylinder immediately slipped away. Its bottom hit the edge of the endtable. The can bounced, and its contents sprayed out in every direction. Mostly in the blond's. Subdued laughter sounded around him. Unable to pick the rapidly spilling can up from the drenched carpeting, Chris was at a loss for what he was expected to do. Lou moved aside to help him out. Another beer hissed open with a cold mist next to the boy's face. Force fed again - the entire sixteen ounces this time - but reflex had Chris swallowing as fast as he could to avoid choking. Lou crunched the spent can in his hand with another bout of chuckling from the pair of older men. Unused to the alcohol, Chris' mind began fuzzing at the edges. His brown eyes drooped just slightly, then closed. The blond wanted to cringe out of his own skin. The stench of the beer was burned into his nostrils, the liquid already turning sticky on his skin and soaking into the bed. Chris coughed the last of the beer out of his windpipe. He glimpsed Lou at the foot of the bed. Watching. Filming. Rubbing at his crotch. Jim scratched at his own, uttering a low, bear-like growl. Chris ignored a smattering of verbal prodding and cat calls. Hoping to get the ordeal over with, Chris turned, lowered and wrapped his lips around the head of Jim's cock. Chris was stopped, and reminded that the blowjob wasn't his first assignment. The blond held his breath, not wanting to breathe in Jim's musky scent. His soft tongue dragged broadly along half of the stranger's matting of public hair. A few strands stuck to his tongue. Chris willed himself not retch from the sensation. He was ordered to bite at the much older man's hairy crotch. To chew and munch the thick hair. To suck on Jim's balls and their thin, crepe-like sack. At last, Chris was permitted to turn to the comparatively more pleasant task of licking Jim's rock hard shaft. The thick undervein received the most extensive bathing. Jim gasped and twitched from the skills the young homosexual had learned on his weekly employer. Chris' mouth again poised atop Jim's cock, lowering to let the head push between his lips. Jim allowed it for around a minute, only to order the boy to another halt. Lou passed his friend an unlabelled, generic plastic bottle. Jim pulled the top up, gave the vessel a squeeze, and summoned a thick, clear gel to drizzle in gobs into his palm. That hand circled Jim's cock, stroking it slick for the pleasure Jim had been anticipating the most throughout the week. Greasy hands reached up to grip the boy by his hips. Chris' smooth, taut butt was pulled across Jim's stomach, stopping in the middle where one shapely leg braced on the bed to either side of the man's lap. One burly hand fondled the crease of Chris' thigh. The other guided a purpled helmet between the boy's cheeks. The lube was an alien sensation, causing the head to dive right into the eighteen-year-old's ass. Chris let out an unexpectedly ecstatic moan, writhing his hips on Jim's penetration. Jim rolled his pelvis up and down beneath the squirming boy. His cock slipped in and out of the eager rectum thickly and smoothly. The gel alone made it the best fuck Chris had ever had, and Lou voraciously filmed every second. Jim began masturbating the young man. Every muscle in Chris' legs visibly tensed. His feet whitened where the soles dug hard into the mattress' give for any sort of hold. The lubrication coating Jim's penis made strangely erotic squicking sounds as the shaft repeatedly disappeared into the blond. The heavy hair brushed and prickled against the boy's testicles. Chris shouted highly. His second forced orgasm spit and trickled down Jim's meaty fingers. The bear continued to sodomise his twink 'nephew' through post-climactic squeals and shudders. Minutes more, and Jim pulled out of Chris' ass. A slippery hand grabbed his erection and stroked feverishly, until streams of creamy white splashed over the boy's genitals. Chris panted loudly, trembling, while Lou taped the cum being rubbed and caressed into the skin of the boy's crotch. The lube still on Jim's hands made his babysitter's intimate areas look suitably sleazy and irresistable for the camera. "How'd you like that, you little bitch?" Chris looked to the moment's director wearily, pausing to suck the sperm off of the fingers Jim pushed into his mouth. The start of a smile crept cross his graceful, pouty lips. "Uncle Jim fucks me even better than you do, daddy..." Drive Ch. 04 Shifting the camera into his left hand, Lou slapped Chris hard across the face with his right. Lou stormed from the bed's side to the table beside the lone closed window. Chris winced and waited for the stinging burn to fade from his cheek, all the while hearing a paper bag being rifled through hastily. Jim pushed the boy aside like rumpled quilt. The bear panted from his exertions and waddled, naked, over to where Lou stood. Light clinking of metal parts, sounding like minature chains, came to Chris' ears. The blond was already handcuffed - what could be worse? Lou's gruff and cold voice gave him the first inkling of an answer. "Grab that slut, Jim. Grab him and hold him still." Chris instinctively tried to inch away, but Jim's unrestrained hands were much faster. Jim yanked the boy up onto his knees and gripped the slender biceps tightly. Lou set the running camera on the tabletop, aimed at the bed as he approached his young captive from the side. A leather strap wrapped long around itself tapped in Lou's hand. Chris' eyes continually shifted between the strap and Lou's blank expression. This wasn't going to be good. "Your uncle fucks you better than your daddy, huh?" Chris shouted out from the folded leather cracking across his cheek. Lou swung it back across the other. Red welts arose on the blond's face. Tears of humiliation and pain broke free. Lou ignored them. He picked a different band of leather up from the table, displaying it before the lens as he readied it. A black mouth gag with a large penis-shaped pacifier. Lou forced the thick, short nub into Chris' mouth. Jim held the boy immobile while the straps joined behind Chris' head and a steel buckle latched the gag in place. A hard slap of leather on Chris' side assured the men that their captive's protests were now limited to harsh moans through his nose. Hands sprang for the boy's throat, and for the first time, Chris feared for his life. A short, massive strip of black leather wrapped around his neck. The dog collar pulled tight and buckled, barely loose enough to slide against the blond's skin without leaving a burning friction. The strap in Lou's hand was allowed to unravel. A leash, and now clicking solidly onto the collar's ring. "We'll just see about that. Daddy hasn't had a chance to fuck you good in bed for a long time. No car seats tonight, Chris. No mom coming home, or calling over where you are. Uncle Jim's gonna tape me fucking my gay son's ass. Jim - take the camera." The bulkier man released Chris to fall to the bed chest-down, taking the recorder and filming Lou's striptease. Lou's clothes were such a middle-aged cliche, the blond sometimes wondered if it was a costume, seeing Lou dressed the same way every Thursday. An ugly brown necktie unknotted from the collar of a cheap pinstriped shirt. That unbuttoned and pulled off of a worn and stretched wifebeater tank. Belt and trousers unfastened, dropping down from covering plain white cotton boxer shorts. Lou took off his shoes, but the calf-gartered dark socks stayed on. Three rough fingers shoved into Chris' ass dry. They weren't as unpleasant as they could've been, after Jim's lubricant and stretching. Lou felt out the boy's prostate through the warm inner flesh and hammered thrusts over it. Chris screamed into his gag, but there was no way the sound was going to get through the room's walls to someone who might care. The blond's shaft stiffened against the mattress in an uncomfortable position. Lou stopped the manual assault well before the boy could orgasm. Lou knelt behind Chris on the bed, gripping the blond's hips to pull him up onto his knees. The side of Chris' face mashed into the covers. The coarse motel comforter scraped hellishly against the welt on his cheek. Lou pulled his hard cock and swelling balls through his boxer's front door, ripping the seam a little for wider access. The boy's employer took a wrapped condom from the nightstand and ripped it open. Unrolled it carefully. Threw it onto the bed in front of Chris' face, where the blond would be sure to see Lou wasn't going to wear it. Lubing with a drop of gel and a few fast pounds on his manhood to spread it, Lou clamped onto the young hips still greasy from Jim's ride. The forty-six-year-old's veiny cock launched into the boy, setting instantly into a pounding rhythm. Jim extended the camera's lens for a close view of the slick, sticky, repetitive meeting of youthful ass and middle-aged crotch. Lou slapped at the girlishly rounded cheeks. He growled and mummbled about filthy desires and fantasies, entrenched deeply in his roleplay as Chris' father. Fantasies of pulling down the back of uniform pants and fucking Chris to celebrate a varsity win. Sex and whippings after a loss. The sweat, the adrenaline, naked father and son in the shower after. Son on his knees, giving dear old Dad a continuous blowjob throughout bowl games. Stripteases. Skinnydipping in the backyard pool. Sleeping naked in daddy's bed, bodies tangled together. Jim moved the filming behind Lou, catching the boy's erection waggling unattended between his spread thighs. The teenager moaned and whimpered through the loveless coupling. There were audible signs that Chris had reluctantly begun licking and sucking on the anchored dildo in his mouth. Jim envied that gag, but at this point, neither of the men trusted the boy not to bite. Lou ground his hips into Chris' soft flesh, burying his full length in the boy while reaching for the leash. Lou gave the tether a strong pull, yanking Chris' chest up from the bed's surface. Lou held him there for nearly ten seconds, listening with a smile to the blond struggle for breath. Feeling Chris writhe on his cock in panic was even better. Lou let the boy down before he could pass out. Gave him just enough time to recover his breath, before yanking the leash again. Lou held him up and used the looped end to whip the boy's ass this time. Twice more. Lou delighted in half-strangling the young man who looked after his children once a week. On the last pull, Lou reined in the leash until Chris' back was touching to the older man's chest. Jim lie on his side in front of them, getting an upshot of Lou ravaging the boy's hole. Lou kept a tight hold on the leash, giving Chris no leeway to move at all. "You'd better be enjoying this, bitch. This is gonna be the fuck of your life. Mmm... Chris, you beautiful fag, here comes your tip..." Surges of hot semen blasted into Chris' anus, and there was still no way to scramble away from the hose spewing it out. Lou pulled out only to allow Jim to tape drops of white leaking out of the young and savaged rectum. Lou took over filming long enough for Jim to broadly lick at the juices and briefly suck the pucker for a little more. His tongue pushed inside and flickered around, and Chris' body trembled. Lou handed the camera back after a short while, and Jim set it on the table. He aimed it for a wide shot of the bed's side. Still controlling the blond by the neck, Lou held Chris in place while Jim crawled heavily onto the bed and backed up against the blond's thighs. Jim widened his knees and lowered to his elbows, wiggling a sizable, pasty white ass against the tip of Lou's pet's erection. "What are you waiting for? Be a good nephew and fuck your uncle." Lou reached around Chris' small waist and gripped the boy's staff, stroking it over with the gummy residue of lubricant. Lou guided the head to Jim's sphinchter, then pushed the boy's hips forward to send the missle of flesh fast and deep into the body of a man Chris had never seen before an hour ago. Lou slipped his softening penis back into Chris' rump easily, thrusting through the gel and cum to get the blond's thrusts started in the bear. Catching and pitching simultaneously tremored through Chris' body. His voice was nothing but one weak, helpless cry after another against his gag. Jim growled his approval loudly and pushed back on the boy strongly. Lou grunted in response, sandwiching the boy between he and his friend, but focusing his touches on caressing Jim's hairy backside. "Ooh... this kid's good, Lou. God, I'd love to take this bitch home with me." "Fuck, so would I. Well, we're not through with him yet." The unfocused jostling between men who seemed to only be using him as an odd joint to fuck each other wore Chris down quickly. He fought back his orgasm, but his tortured libido wasn't having it. A third, dwindling spray of cum shot unprotected into the first man Chris had ever penetrated. Jim wriggled all the more, and Chris feared the waves of ejaculate wouldn't stop until he was nothing but a dehydrated shell. There was no way to pull out of the burly man with Lou still knocking into the blond from behind. The motions resulting kept Chris thrusting, as well, refusing to let his orgasm subside. Chris collapsed forward onto Jim's furry back. The fore and aft sexual assaults kept at their paces, and he had neither the strength nor the will to keep upright for them anymore. Jim soon twitched and grunted, clenching his rectum on the boy's spent shaft as his own climax was reached. Chris couldn't bring himself to care. He'd already believed more times than he could count tonight that reaching an orgasm would be the end of the evening. It wasn't worth the dashed hopes again. It was the right attitude to take, apparently. Jim pulled off of the blond, and Lou pulled out, leaving Chris to collapse to the covers and their miriad of wet spots. "Got it all, Jim? Paint him with it." Chris hadn't fully opened his eyes to the sound of Lou's voice when a palmful of cooling semen was smeared across his face. Rubbed over his cheeks. Dragged down his neck. Two warm, limp cocks tapped hard and repeatedly under his nose, the only spot close to the boy's mouth that wasn't covered by the gag's band. It was safe to assume their favorite black box was putting the moment down on tape. Chris cautiously opened his eyes once the penile beatings ceased. Congealed drops of semen were visible in his lashes. Lou and Jim both looked delighted. "Okay. Get him, and let's go clean the little son of a bitch up." [tbc] Drive Ch. 05 A beefy arm hooking around his waist hoisted Chris' light body up from the bed. Jim slung the boy over his shoulder easily, carting the thin blond off to the bathroom. Jim made an attempt to be careful in putting the boy into the bathtub, but still dropped Chris down on the porcelain for the last foot. The fall shoved the side of a handcuff into Chris' wrist, and the blond whimpered deeply. "Up on your feet, son." Still gagged, Chris couldn't voice his disbelief and ask Lou if he was crazy. Still handcuffed, he couldn't punch the asshole square in the face and feel much better about his evening. Nor, he found, could he get the leverage on the slick white surface to accomplish the feat. Jim's hands slipped under the boy's armpits and yanked him upright. Chris was left to teeter back against the tiled wall on his own, but maintained his balance. Jim disappeared out the door as Lou stood back in silence, filming every inch of the boy soiled by the older men's seed. There was no shortage of his subject. Orders grumbled out for Chris to turn a circle, then face the wall as Jim returned. The rustle of brown paper arose again, replaced a moment later by the running sink faucet. The two men debated briefly over the water temperature, reaching an agreement Chris wanted to know nothing about. They were determined to make him a part of it, anyway. What felt like a small tube pushed easily into the blond's ravaged hole; after an inch, it flared suddenly to an inch diameter. Someone gave a hard squeeze, and hot water flooded into Chris' rectum. The tube pulled away, and the sticky remnants of Lou and Jim poured out of the boy's body. The tip and flare pushed in again after a refilling. Strangely, it felt good. It took away most of the vile and sleazy sensations, at any rate. Five rounds of the cleansing were performed altogether, before it seemed Lou and Jim were satisfied. Their prisoner felt almost comfortable again. But not for long. Lou passed off the camera once more, leaning over the bathtub's edge to turn on the shower. The cold handle was all he bothered with. Chris shrieked against his gag. He tried to move himself back and out of the heavy, icy spray, but faltered on his shaky legs. Jim spared him from the fall, but held him fixed under the frigid downpour. Chris could swear Lou purposely waited until he saw the boy shivering before mercifully adding hot water to the mix. Hand towels propped the camera up on the closed toilet seat. The lens carefully centered on the uncurtained shower. Lou stripped off his socks and boxers, and both men stepped into the steaming water with their captive. Lou and Jim luxuruiated in soaping Chris' defiled body thoroughly. From the boy's hair to his toes, they missed nothing. The young buttocks and crotch received the most attention. As suds rinsed away, tongues came out to taste the fresh pale skin along Chris' neck and shoulders. Both men licked over the boy's face, grinding Chris between their spongy bodies. The fleshy crush wasn't all bad. It kept the boy from dropping in his exhaustion. It was attention. Two people actually found Chris attractive. Not only attractive, but desirable. And not just a few girls at school he had no interest in, but two men. Fast losing the last of their youth, unable to draw anyone else properly, sick, perverted - Chris wouldn't doubt nor deny any of that about the pair. Yet they wanted to have sex with the blond. That was more than any other men in town were willing to consider. The licking and petting stopped. The flow of water turned off. Lou and Jim toweled themselves dry and left the bathroom. Through the door, Chris could easily hear them from where he'd been left, sopping wet, against the shower's wall. They spoke of some people Chris didn't know, some he did. Who was a jerk at their respective jobs, who was an ass. Wives, exes, the year's new models in trucks and cars. Rather manly talk, once Chris thought about it. Not one mention of the fact that they'd taken turns sodomizing the same young man not half an hour before. No talk of removing the cuffs or gag, nor what they'd do or have him say once they did. Football. Baseball. How boring it was to watch school soccer games. That continued to dominate their discussion. Rustling again became the background noise to their voices. It sounded like they were packing things up, preparing to leave. Chris finally felt a real sense of relief that the night was drawing to a close. Jim eventually returned to the bathroom, fully redressed except for his coat. He pulled the boy from the bathtub, haphazardly drying Chris' waterlogged skin and ruffling the towel over the boy's snowy hair. Chris was escorted the few feet back into the motel room's main area with an arm around his waist to keep him upright. Held up to the doorway wall, Chris found Lou in his new favorite position of standing behind the video camera. He and Jim smiled, to themselves and each other. Their excitement could almost be smelled in the still steamy air. Lou chose to toy with his babysitter a little more, before doing anyting else. "It's almost over, son. Have you liked it? Having a couple of big dicks taking their time fucking you up in that tight little ass? Did you like how your daddy and uncle fucked you tonight?" Similar questions rambled on from Lou's swaggering voice. Chris reluctantly nodded to everything he asked. "Jim: take the gag off, and give him a drink. I want to hear my son's dirty little mouth." The buckle tightened behind Chris' head by a fraction, and just for an instant before the leather loosened and fell away from the boy's face. Drops of water beneath the band and a copious amount of saliva that had been pooling in Chris' mouth dripped down his chin as Jim pulled the obscene pacifier from between his lips. One of Chris' own discarded socks came up to wipe the fluids away. Jim brought another can of the horrid beer up to Chris' mouth, but thirst helped the blond ignore the flavour and drink half the container down without a mess at all. Drunkeness had a firm grip on the teenager's thoughts by now, a fact his elders delighted in. "What's my dirty little bitch been doing, hmm?" "Fu... fucking my daddy... and uncle." "And you like that, don't you..." "I love it, daddy. I love being fucked that hard." "Fucked by what, baby?" "Your fat cock, daddy. Mm, I love it pounding in me." "And what about fucking your uncle, you little slut?" "God, Uncle Jim's ass was so hot and tight and slippery... thought my balls'd drain inside out..." Both men let out a low laugh at the spent, bedraggled creature's confessions. Jim's hand, almost affectionately, cupped the boy's crotch to fondle him for the camera. Through Chris' blatant fatigue, the youthful shaft twitched at the touches, threatening to spring back to life. "Okay, take the cuffs off, Jim. I think the whore's earned his present." Presses and bumps had ratcheted the cuffs closed as tightly as possible on Chris' wrists. They didn't seem to want to release him as Jim struggled with the small key. A couple clicks, and the restraints fell to the floor with a heavy metallic thud on the cheap carpeting. Chris was too intoxicated and tired to rub at the dark red rings on his skin, only putting his palms back to the wall to stay upright as Jim's touch moved up to pet the boy's flat, hairless stomach. Lou returned to the table, his back to his cohort as Jim led Chris over to the rumpled and still damp in places bed. Chris welcomed the relative softness, plopping down on his stomach with intent to pass out and sleep off the night's alcohol and lust. The sound of a paperboard box opening didn't interest him, nor metallic bouncing like a flashlight being filled. "No, no, baby, we want you awake." Jim's voice reached Chris' dazed ears just before wet, almost sopping kisses touched to his shoulders. Thick lips travelled down his shoulder blade and back, until, ultimately, a hot, wet tongue lapped at the only orafice between Chris' legs. The blond groaned against his will to feel himself still being used. Jim sucked at his hole, poked a stiffened tongue inside, and flickered it in every direction. A stout finger penetrated the hot and slick hole, Jim's mouth now occupied with kissing and biting the boy's curvy cheeks. Lou chuckled, camera still up to his eye, soon approaching and handing one of the last two implements from the bags to his friend. "Come on, come on, outta the way. Our young pro here needs something bigger than fingers, don't you, son?" Chris wasn't sure if he was expected to answer. He didn't have time to formulate one, anyway, before a battery-powered buzzing filled the room. Trying to raise his head for a look wasn't a fast enough manoeuver, either, before a heavy vibrator made of jellied silicone pushed easily into the boy's ass. Jim twisted the artificial shaft in the blond's anal sleeve, pulling it back and forth slowly. His tongue traced around the elastic puckered flesh broadly, filled nearly to tearing with the bright pink pole, making Chris squirm and whimper. The buzzing echoed maddeningly through the boy's genitals, shaking his core in a way nothing else had accomplished throughout the busy night. Chris threw himself from his stomach onto his back, groping for a hold on himself to help releive the swiftly building tension. Lou reached a hand down to twist and pull his babysitter's nipple as the bear tortured him and the boy masturbated. "You're such a horny little fucker, baby, but I don't want you sitting on no one's dick but your "family's". You understand me? No one. That's why we got you this rubber one, for you to fuck youself every night and picture your daddy and uncle up in you. Loving you, like no one else can. Ooh, that's getting you off, isn't it? That's right, you sick, incestuous fuck. Beat it, faggot. Beat it, and cum in your uncle's mouth!" Jim's pursed lips sucked the twitching staff into his mouth, and bobbed. Twice. Three times. Four. Chris shrieked out harshly, shooting what little cum he had left in him onto Jim's tongue. Jim thrust the humming dildo into the the boy's ass rapidly, and sucked hard for every last drop of passion he could get. Chris lost control of everything but the will to live, and passed out cold. Jim lifted his head up to look at the unconscious and deeply-breathing form, collecting all of Chris' sperm into one mass. Lifting the boy's leg and nearly pinning the thigh to Chris' stomach, Jim withdrew the vibrator. His lips pressed to the boy's asshole, strongly sptting Chris' own semen into the raw rectum as Lou filmed every second. Jim licked his lips with the task completed, swallowing the scant residue. He traced the buzzing head around the hole, causing the pucker to spasm and seize involuntarily. Lou tapped his shoulder, handing his friend a solid and much heavier piece of rubber. Jim smiled sleazily into the lens, then shifted the marbled black-and-white butt plug in his hand to position it. A molded loop on its flared end had a tugging string removed, and replaced with a small brass lock, symbolic more than functional. Jim slipped the bulbous end in, sighing happily as the boy's sphinchter gripped the tool's thinner neck tightly. He looked up to Lou with a broad, dark smile. "Goddamn, that's the sweetest piece of ass I've had in years." "He's good. Say what you want about the broody little fag, but he is good." "We've gotta do this again, Lou. Got to." "Well, Thursdays, his ass is mine. How about I bring him to your place next week, and we can have at him there?" "Nah, I'd never get rid of my wife that long. Hey... what about my hunting truck? It's big in the back. Take him and fuck him out in the trees? Tie him up? Let him scream this time?" "Mmm... that could work. We'll flesh it out more tomorrow. Come on. Get him dressed, and let's dump him off, eh?" "What about all the bruises? Is it really safe to just leave him?" "Like he's really going to admit that he gets himself roughed up and fucked for money? Nah. He'll come up with something, and his dumb bitch mother'll believe it. Leave the plug in, though. I want him feeling it as soon as he comes to..." To Be Continued...