4 comments/ 32696 views/ 6 favorites The China Syndrome By: SadieRose a Rayne Wylde story by Sadie Rose Bermingham 2004 On a cold night in December, just before Christmas, nineteen year old Rayne Wylde met up with his pimp, Rabid John, in the Dog and Ferret after a day's shopping in and around Soho and Carnaby Street. For the first time in his young life, Rayne found himself with money in his pockets as a result of his 'work' for Johnno. Not that it had stayed there for long, mind you. He clutched the carrier bags in his hands like trophies hard won in battle and refused to let go, even after John bought him a pint of lager-shandy. "Not too much booze, you're on a job' tonight," he cautioned. "You said I could have this weekend off." Rayne eyed him resentfully from beneath his floppy, bottle blond forelock. He was boyishly skinny in black jeans and a black mesh vest that showed off tiny, dark, silver-studded nipples. A friend of Johnno's had pierced his nips for him last time they all smoked crack together. They were still a bit tender but the little, barbed studs looked great protruding either side of his stiff young buds. Even the regulars occasionally checked him out when they thought John was looking the other way. No one in Mile End crossed Rabid John. The nickname had been earned and it certainly was not a term of endearment. "Yeah, well you can after you've turned this little trick for me, yeah? It'll only take an hour or so but it come up sudden, like." "Can't anybody else do it?" The blond lad necked half his pint and fired Johnno a stare that was pure, youthful arrogance. "Nobody else has got the credentials you have, baby," John soothed. "These are big money punters, all right? Out of town boys, lookin' for somethin' fresh an' tight." "Aww fuck it, John! I'm sick of playin' virgin for some dozy cunt that can't get it on with a grown up!" the pretty little whore complained bitterly. "Yeah? Well think about five 'undred quid an hour, will you. That's what they're payin'." The boy's lime green eyes widened conspicuously. He reached for the glass again. John's hand got there first. "Take your time, Raymonde. Won't do to 'ave you turn up reekin' of ale now, will it?" "How many of them are there?" Ray looked suspicious. He had recently serviced a seven man gang-bang that left him unable to walk straight for a week. Johnno could not blame him for being wary. "Just the two this time. Big businessmen; Chinese Mafia, maybe. They're sure flashin' their cash about!" "I'm not so sure," Rayne muttered doubtfully. "You've nothin' to worry about. They want a fourteen-year-old with a virgin arse so they can film a bono-fido deflowerin'. They're payin' good money and I know you can pull it off, Ray. Just look cute and play dumb and scared for 'em." John emptied his pint glass for him and ruffled Rayne's artfully styled slick of fringe. He dressed down deliberately for the job. The loose, faded blue jeans were slightly less revealing than his black pair and coupled with a baggy t-shirt with a skate-boarding logo on the front. He ran his hands through his hair leaving it roughly tousled and removed all traces of make-up and nail polish carefully. His piercings were more problematic. He just hoped that the holes would be invisible in the darkness and his nipples would not heal too quickly once the studs were out. On the plus side they were amazingly sensitive tonight. He shaved his legs and armpits and between his thighs diligently in the shower whilst Johnno watched. Once he had towelled himself dry the older man felt him up unashamedly, checking that he was perfectly, boyishly smooth all over. Only then did he let Rayne get dressed. The venue for their rendezvous was a backstreet hotel in Bayswater and they got a taxi there, Rayne staring wordlessly out of the window at the drizzle and the dark, wet London night as Johnno rolled a joint. He wore a dark blue duffle coat and a cap with some biker logo on it. At the hotel, they walked up a short flight of narrow steps into a bleak, featureless foyer with linoleum floors that smelled faintly of vomit and cleen-o-pine, and fake teak panelling on the walls. The reception was behind a metal grille. Johnno murmured something to the dark-skinned fellow behind the bars and he nodded and pushed a single Yale key on a white plastic fob under the grille towards the skinny, unshaven fellow in the long black coat. Now Johnno nodded towards the uncarpeted stairs at the far end of the foyer and Rayne followed unenthusiastically. The room was on the third floor and they let themselves in in pensive silence. Johnno flicked the light switch and the space beyond was illuminated dimly by a bare, 40watt bulb hanging from the high ceiling. The floors here were also scabby lino. An iron framed three-quarter width bed and a wooden chair constituted the only furnishing. There was a badly fitted door in the wall beyond the bed, which led, on closer inspection to a small, walk in wardrobe with three fixed hangers on a rail and a folded spare blanket on a high shelf. Rayne took his coat off and hung it up, closing the door quietly. "This is the pits," he declared morbidly, sitting down on the bed, which squeaked like a wounded bird. Johnno said nothing, only pulled the moth-eaten curtains together and lit his roll up. In a room somewhere beneath them, a door slammed and was locked and after a brief murmur of voices a couple began to have rapid, noisy sex. Rayne pulled up both feet onto the shabby counterpane and hugged his knees miserably. After about fifteen minutes, they both heard the sound of footsteps outside and Johnno turned half anxiously, half expectantly. There was a tentative knock at their door and he sprang across the room to open it, admitting a pair of oriental men, in their late forties, perhaps. One was rather portly and his dark hair was receding above the black-rimmed spectacles perched on his forehead. The other was wiry, grey-suited and already grey haired. He gripped Johnno's hand and pumped it vigorously for a few moments, then in broken English introduced his broader companion, Mr. Chen lo Sing. Chen lo Sing was wearing a dark, well-cut suit and overcoat and carrying a square, silvery case, which he set down on the floor now, looking around the room a little distastefully. His small, narrow eyes finally lit upon Rayne, still curled around himself on the bed and he said something in Mandarin which the wiry fellow quickly translated. "Mr Chen says what is the boy's name?" "Jason," Rayne said quickly before Johnno could open his mouth. He was not ready to give this man anything more than he had to, and this included his name. There was a further brief consultation and the translator smiled condescendingly. "Mr. Chen says, 'ah... like the Argonauts?'" "Yeah." Rayne managed a half smile at that. "How old are you, Jason?" the skinny fellow leaned forward with his hands resting lightly on the footrail of the bed. His portly companion wandered around to inspect the wardrobe and removed his coat, hanging it up along with his suit jacket. He toed off his shoes and began to unfasten his tie. Rayne watched this detachedly. "I'll be fifteen in a couple of months," he lied and this was conveyed back to Mr. Chen, who asked another question. "Are you still at school, Jason?" "Yeah," he said, still watching as Chen removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, hanging both in the wardrobe fastidiously. "Do you like your school?" "It's all right," he said non-committally, keeping the disgust out of his tone, but only just. The Chinamen exchanged nodded comments and the skinny translator told him; "Mr. Chen would like you remove all your clothing, please, Jason and bend forward over the bed with your legs apart. Would you do this now, please?" Rayne cast an incredulous glance in Johnno's direction but the skinny pimp only nodded numbly. Exhaling a short, incredulous breath, Rayne began to peel off his tee-shirt and jeans. At the same time, Chen removed his trousers and underpants and hung them in the wardrobe, closing the door. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took off his socks, tucking them fastidiously into his shoes and placing them carefully beneath the bedframe as Rayne slowly stripped naked in front of him, letting his clothes fall carelessly to the floor. Now the fleshy oriental beckoned him forward and indicated with a brisk gesture of his hand that Rayne should lean on the mattress beside him. He pushed the young man's shoulders down to the worn counterpane, which smelled slightly musty, and rose to his feet, moving behind him at once. Through his hair, Rayne saw the translator place the silver case on the other side of the bed and open it. He removed a video camera and inserted a cassette into it before lifting it to shoulder height and peering through the lens at Rayne. Feeling cold and awkward, Rayne closed his eyes. Soft, podgy fingers parted his cheeks and touched intimately between his legs, handling his genitals and rubbing his scrotum and the puckered lips of his rectum. He squeezed his ring tight as a fleshy thumb-pad pressed on his sphincter and circled slowly between the cheeks of his arse. A longer conversation took place between the two Chinamen this time. Rayne moaned a little as he was probed more roughly. The translator asked; "Have you ever performed sexual intercourse, Jason?" He shook his head with some difficulty. "No." "Mr. Chen asks me to tell you that your testicles are very large. He wishes to know, do you masturbate yourself regularly to orgasm?" "Um... Thanks," Rayne muttered awkwardly, not sure what else to say to this. "I – um – I suppose so." "And do your testicles produce copious amounts of semen when you reach climax?" he was asked politely. "Yeah," Rayne panted, feeling his cock begin to stiffen, in spite of the ridiculous circumstances. "Have you ever allowed a man to place his finger or erect penis within your mouth or anus and stimulate himself to climax that way?" the fellow enquired in a casual tone of voice as if enquiring of the best way to Charing Cross station. "No," he lied, crossing his fingers discreetly. The hand on his backside lifted briefly and Chen said something else, rather briskly. Rayne shivered, not sure if it was the cold air or just nerves, or maybe both. This was one of the most bizarre situations he had even found himself in. "Mr Chen says that you may leave us with Jason now, Mr. John," the little fellow instructed. "He wishes only the presence of myself and the camera whilst Jason is pleasuring him." Rayne turned his head anxiously. John looked a little unsettled too but he nodded finally. "I'll be just outside in the corridor, okay?" he told his favourite whore. "Do as you're told, all right?" Rayne nodded and bit his lip. He was still bent over the mattress as Johnno slipped out and the door closed behind him. Chen's soft, plump hand stroked his naked back and he said something, which was translated as; "Please lie down on the bed now on your back, Jason. Mr. Chen would like to watch you stimulating yourself. It would give him pleasure to observe you with your legs parted and knees raised so that all of your genital parts are on display as you masturbate." "That's dirty," he told them awkwardly. The oriental pair exchanged comments. Chen laughed gruffly and looked Rayne up and down in a way that left the younger man feeling distinctly uneasy. "Mr. Chen says that he will not tell anyone." The tone was impersonal yet still slightly patronising, as if he spoke to a very young boy. Again, Rayne Wilde was reminded that this was exactly what he was supposed to be. The thought was disquieting to him. He settled awkwardly on the yielding mattress and the springs squeaked alarmingly as he positioned himself. Chen and his skinny translator stood at the foot of the bed and alternately ogled and filmed proceedings as he began to stroke his cock nervously. At first he had some difficulty keeping it hard, which had never been a problem for him before. He put it down the unusual circumstances and closed his eyes, concentrating on how it felt to wank whilst he knew he was being looked at. He slipped into a fantasy, imagining that it was the pretty blonde-haired first year lecturer in architectural theory who was standing in the nude at his feet and he had pulled out his tool in her lecture and was pumping it hard for her as she rubbed her clit and the rest of the students watched in awe. "It is not Mr Chen's wish that you ejaculate yet," the cool impassive voice interrupted. "It would give him pleasure to observe you inserting your fingers into your own anus whilst you stroke his member. He will stimulate your erect penis whilst you do this. When he gives you the instruction you are to lean towards him and pleasure his member with your lips and tongue. Do you understand this Jason?" He made his eyes as wide and huge as possible. "I... I don't know how to do that, Sir," he lied in a small, innocent voice. "Do not concern yourself. When the time comes, Mr. Chen and I will teach you the art of giving oral pleasure. It is your only concern to accustom your rectum to the presence of a penetrative force. Mr Chen is aware that he has a large penis and he has no wish to hurt you when the time comes for him to violate your anus." There was a definite glint in the man's eye as he said this. Rayne blinked at him but managed to make the expression somehow shy and uncomprehending. "Mum always said that I wasn't to put my fingers in my bum. There's germs," he pointed out stoically. Again they conferred and Chen laughed heartily this time and said something incomprehensible as he stroked between Rayne's naked thighs. "Mr. Chen will make it well worth your while to disobey," the translator informed him gravely, filming this interference in close-up. "If you disobey Mr. Chen however, you will be punished vigorously before we 'force' you to perform intercourse." Rayne swallowed genuine anxiety. There had been no mention of violence before he agreed to come here. He spread his legs obediently now and explored himself with careful fingers. So far he had not even seen Chen's boner, it was still hidden by the landslide of his vast, furry belly. As he eased a forefinger up his own arse, Chen bent over him and began to wank him with an appreciative smile on his sweaty face. Rayne moaned softly and wriggled on the bedcover. "Oh... Oh sir! It feels funny. I think... I think I'm going to cum," he gasped obligingly. "No, no!" the translator insisted, shaking his head. Chen stopped fondling him and held up two fingers pressed together. Rayne nodded his head in comprehension. He spread his legs wider and eased a second finger slowly up his arse. The bulky oriental now tucked a hand beneath Rayne's slender thigh and lifted his right leg so that the young man could concentrate on frigging himself and not worry about keeping the camera's view of his naked scrotum unobstructed. He need not have worried that they would discover his secret. Tension kept his ring so tight that he was losing the feeling in his fingers. Rayne closed his eyes again, concentrating on the moist, warm feel of his hole. He could hear them murmuring urgently together and now the skinny man told him; "Mr. Chen would like your lips around his sex now, Jason. Watching you arouse yourself is making him extremely hard." He opened his eyes. At the foot of the bed the translator was unfastening his fly. Beside him, the enormous bulk of Chen's hairy belly rolled like a hill during an earthquake as he stretched upward. It revealed a chunky, nodding, uncircumcised cock that was easily nine inches long. The eye that stared back unblinkingly at him was weeping semen like a dribbling icing gun. Chen had huge, hairy, purple balls that hung from beneath this upright mast to halfway down his thighs. As the other man unzipped his pants, Rayne was conscious that he too was prominently erect. For a small man he had a fairly substantial knob between his thighs. It was not as huge as Chen's impressive boner but still a decent mouthful. He caught his breath and panted; "I'm not sure about this..." "Do not be afraid. We will not hurt you," the translator told him, apparently without guidance from his boss, who was still watching Rayne finger himself with hungry eyes. Now the big fellow reached into the silver case for a small jar and removed the lid, passing it to Rayne. He said something, imperiously. The young whore looked enquiringly at his interpreter, though he sensed what was coming next. "You are to dip your fingers into the lubricant," he was told impassively. "This time, Mr. Chen would like you to put a third finger into your anus and really stretch your hole. He is almost ready to enter you, but it is his wish that you are properly prepared for your loss of innocence. He does not desire that your violation should be painful." Rayne shuddered a little at the idea of this huge, hirsute, bear of a man between his legs. At the same time Chen stroked his bottle-blond hair and he was drawn firmly towards that furry groin. He took a deep breath. Chen asked him something and the other man promptly enquired; "Are you afraid, Jason?" "Yeah!" he exhaled in a rush, staring in fascination at that massive tool waving before his eyes. "Just relax and open your mouth wide," the thin fellow told him. The camera was behind him now and he fought the urge to look around for it as his lips parted. Chen's salty cock-head nudged between them and the big Chinaman used one hand to hold up the folds of his belly as the other stroked the back of Rayne's head. He was leaning all his weight against the side of the bed as he pulled the young English lad's soft, wet mouth onto his sex. Rayne moaned and began to suck instinctively. Above him he heard a grunt and the translator quickly said; "Not so hard. Just stroke with your lips and tongue. Imagine you are licking a bar of ice-cream, Jason, trying to get more and more of it into your mouth." Rayne pushed three fingers deeper into his rectum and whimpered softly as his lips were forced wide by Chen's thrusting cock. He was incredibly relieved that he was not as inexperienced as they had hoped. Twice he pretended to gag as the big man began to fuck his mouth with deep, steady strokes. Each time he was soothed and encouraged to relax and keep swallowing by the cameraman. Once he was comfortably deep-throating his client, he was startled to suddenly feel a huff of hot breath in his own crotch. The bed-springs creaked as Chen eased down onto the mattress beside him and began to lick his smoothly shaven groin and genitals. His cock sprang upright at once and he whimpered, muffled by the hot hairy ball-sac in which his nose was diligently buried. Chen's huge, furry belly pressed against his torso eagerly. "Mr. Chen wants you to push your fingers as deeply as you can into your anus and keep them there, touching yourself inside until you feel the urge to ejaculate. If you do so before he gives permission, you will be whipped soundly upon your bare buttocks prior to full, anal intercourse," he was warned. Rayne tried to groan an incoherent protest but nothing more than a muffled monotone escaped. His fingers felt numb but he pushed them further in and wriggled them all the same, painfully conscious of the swell of pleasure deep within as he caressed his own prostate. Chen's tongue explored his balls and scrotum as he pounded Rayne's mouth and throat enthusiastically on the bed, his big, hirsute nuts banging together on either side of the pretty teenager's nose. He pulled up the muscles of his groin determinedly, vainly fighting the impulse that demanded release as that hot, writhing tongue explored his throbbing cock from base to tip. The China Syndrome A strangled cry fought up from the depths of his chest as he spurted hard, three or four times into Chen's face, already tensed for the repercussions. As the huge oriental rose from the bed, semen dripping from his nose and chin, he was grinning fiercely and his bedmate understood at once that he had hoped for such weakness. He moaned more pathetically as the huge pacifier slipped from his mouth. "Please don't hurt me. I'll do anything you want." Chen nodded eagerly and the other man confirmed; "You certainly will." He set the camera up on a tripod as Chen produced a set of leather wrist and ankle straps from the bag and fastened them around Rayne's pale, skinny forearms and lower calves. The teenage whore struggled underneath him as he was buckled into these restraints and his hands forced wide at head height. Chen secured his wrists to the metal bed-posts so that he could not rise from the mattress, then knelt between his legs, forcing them apart roughly. "No! No! Please!" Rayne begged him, still struggling for all his worth. "Don't! Please!" He was ignored. The interpreter had stripped off while this was going on and now he took hold of one of Rayne's feet and together they hauled the skinny prostitute's legs into the air and strapped his ankles to the top rail of the bed-head, securing him in this vulnerable position; thighs and buttocks parted and raised up from the mattress. He hauled in vain on the cuffs but they did not yield one centimetre. Chen laughed again and stroked a pudgy finger down his exposed crack, probing his anus firmly then pushing an intrusive finger to the third knuckle inside him. Rayne keened urgently, trying to pull away without success. "No!" "Mr. Chen says that you are very tight," the skinny fellow informed him with a shit-eating grin. "But do not worry, Jason. By the time we have finished teaching you, you will be able to take us both inside your anus, simultaneously." The young man protested more weakly, throwing his head back among the lumpy pillows. His blond hair spilled like silver over the rumpled bedcover. Chen bent his head and touched his tongue to Rayne's puckered arsehole, licking and suckling greedily between the beautiful boy's bare cheeks. Beside the bed, the other man bent and removed another toy from the silver case. He smeared lubricant liberally over the flexible, inch-thick length of black leather tubing in his hands. Chen sat back now and took the teaser from his partner, letting Rayne get a good look at it before he rubbed one greasy end against the boy's twitching ring. "Oh Christ!" Rayne panted softly, shaking his head as that sleek, heavy tool probed and penetrated him relentlessly. The dildo was not rigid; it was more like a fat, black snake – the supple, leather casing filled with some heavy yet malleable substance such as sand. It filled his rectum slowly and he keened as it was urged into him an inch at a time, feeling warm and slippery inside him like a half-hard cock, but weighty too. "Mr. Chen says that this will tell us how much man-meat you can take. It is half a metre long and two centimetres in diameter. It has been used to prepare many tight, white-skinned, virgin boys for Mr. Chen's penis." The translator masturbated as he watched Chen feeding the supple sex-toy into Rayne's naked body. On the bed, the young whore wriggled and cried out, no longer play-acting. It felt both intrusive and darkly, sinfully pleasurable as the leather serpent wormed deeper into his submissive loins and he whimpered eagerly, feeling his prick stiffen in response to the caressing weight on his prostate. His two abusers conferred excitedly as they watched the dildo vanishing between his pale cheeks. Chen now lubricated the external end of the flexible tool and eased a slippery finger into Rayne's chute, making the young man jerk upward and struggle again as he was loosened further in preparation for a second leather cock-head. His cries grew more urgent and reluctant until the translator pulled a roll of black gaffer tape from the silver case and used a length of it to gag him. The shaved, naked teenager bucked and thrashed wildly on the bed as the double end of the supple, black dildo was forced a good six inches into him and he was fucked roughly with it, cursing Rabid John incoherently all the way to Hell. He reached a second, panting, sweating climax a good ten minutes into this vigorous tooling. The positioning of his arms and legs meant that he spurted a liberal fountain of semen over his own face and hair as he began to cum uncontrollably with all but a small, loop of leather dildo forced up his arse. The wiry translator alternately filmed this and his own erect penis in close up. Meanwhile, Chen dipped into the case again and withdrew a short, leather paddle with a narrow grip, like a lady's hairbrush with no bristles. He slapped it into the palm of his fat hand with a crack that made Rayne start and struggle again. "Mr. Chen warned you what would happen if you ejaculated without permission," the interpreter panted excitedly. "Now he must chastise you for being such a dirty young boy, Jason. Only an earnest beating will make you humble." Rayne shook his head determinedly, but his protests were muffled and helpless. Quickly and roughly, Chen pulled the dildo out of him, making him squirm uncomfortably as his sphincter muscle was relaxed. The first stroke stung his bare cheeks like a thousand hot pins, automatically tensing his perineum once more. Nine more slaps with the paddle followed and Chen grew visibly more aroused and excited with every stroke. The final spanking was delivered between his legs, landing on his scrotum and balls so that he convulsed with agony and uttered a stifled scream. Involuntary tears ran down his cheeks. "If you are disobedient once more, Mr. Chen will deliver ten strokes between your legs," the translator warned him, ripping off the gag and taking most of Rayne's face with it (or so it felt). "What do you say to him?" "I'll be good," Rayne sobbed immediately. "I promise! Please don't hurt me." "The time has come for you to pleasure us both," the little man told him, smiling keenly. "If you willingly give us great satisfaction you will not be punished further. Are you ready to be our dirty young playmate, Jason?" He nodded his head, whimpering with pathetic eagerness. "Then we shall untie you," the translator assured him. He conferred with Chen again and they proceeded to unbuckle the straps. Rayne uttered a little groan of discomfort as the blood rushed back into his stiff, cold legs. It was painful, but not as painful as a genital spanking. He rubbed his limbs wearily as they helped him to sit up. Chen stroked his cheek and said something quietly in Mandarin. "Mr. Chen is telling you that you are very beautiful," the other fellow explained at once. "He is very excited that soon he will have full anal intercourse with you. Whilst he rides you, he wishes to observe as you pleasure me with your mouth. I believe Westerners call this form of intercourse 'spit-roasting'?" Another small nod was his only response. Rayne no longer trusted his tongue. If he spoke it was likely that he would blow his innocent teen identity out of the water. Chen handed him a small, silver hoop, too narrow for a bracelet and too large to be a finger ring. He looked incuriously at it. Of course he knew full well what a cock ring was for; Johnno had made him wear one on occasion, usually when they were jacking up before sex. Once he was hard, Johnno injected the heroin into his penis and the tight ring ensured a slow release of pleasure. Now the translator obligingly showed him how to slip it over his limp young cock and tucked his balls back through the hoop one at a time before fondling and rubbing his shaven genitals. Chen handed him the little jar of lubricant and indicated with gestures and nods that Rayne was to apply Vaseline liberally to his client's erect cock. Once this was done, Chen bent and alternately tongued and fingered his sore, stretched rectum for a little while. The skinny cameraman began to simultaneously bite and suck on Rayne's tender nipples and he uttered a little gasp of pleasure and pain. His prick stiffened for the rubbing hands between his legs then Chen shifted and knelt up, parting his buttocks from behind with those soft, fat fingers. His vast, slippery penis nudged enquiringly into the cleft between Rayne's hairless cheeks and the blond boy sighed his wordless consent as it probed his arsehole urgently. The video camera whirred softly on its tripod as the translator curled one hand around the back of Rayne's head, drawing him down onto his hands and knees so that his exposed crotch was in the blond boy's face. Obediently, he licked and sucked the thin man's balls, taking them in his mouth one at a time. Rayne exhaled a rush of hot breath into the fellow's groin as Mr. Chen's pulsing, slippery cock-head popped past the tightness of his ring and began to thrust deeper into his arse, pleasuring him intensely. He licked and nibbled his way up the interpreter's shorter, narrower cock and wrapped his full, sensuous lips around the spunk-sticky dome as Chen's nine, chunky, impressive inches pumped relentlessly into him, doggy-style. Rayne whimpered a little to keep up the pretence that he was inexperienced and Chen slipped a hand beneath him and masturbated his slender, blond English whore patiently as he urged the full length of his tool into that hot 'virgin' hole. The youthful moans of sexual arousal were punctuated by soft, wet, sucking noises as their pretty, fair-haired 'schoolboy' performed willing fellatio on his naked colleague. Chen began to fuck him faster and harder, turned on by the youngster's tight anus and firm white buttocks, striped now with pink welts from his recent beating. The punishment had served its purpose, he was fabulously pliant and submissive to them both. Chen gripped his lean hips roughly and rammed himself deeper until muffled yelps were forced from his playmate's full mouth. The other fellow was bucking his crotch vigorously into the boy's face, holding him by the hair. Rayne wanked furiously as his mouth was flooded with hot, slightly gingery Chinese cum. The grip on his hair released and he lifted his head with a gasp of relief as another spurt hit him in the face. Chen's big tool was still pounding away; throbbing like a frightened heartbeat in his arsehole. He pushed himself back onto it, panting and crying out eagerly; desperate to cum before Chen reached his own orgasm. The translator was watching slack jawed now, leaning back against the head-rail as his fat, naked countryman buggered their pretty teenage slut until every ounce of his flesh quivered incessantly. Once he had got his breath back, he grabbed the camera and moved in close again. Chen lifted a fold of his belly so that the lens could clearly witness his thrusting manhood pistoning in and out of the naked boy's well-greased arsehole. He fucked until exhaustion slowed his action, then pulled out slowly. Rayne knelt for a moment, panting like a winded animal. Chen lay down on his back, his cock still standing proud against his voluminous belly. Then he gasped an instruction in his own tongue and pointed towards his glistening, purple-helmeted erection. "He wishes you to straddle him," the translator told Rayne gleefully. "He wishes to watch as you impale yourself upon his manhood and ride upon him like an eager horseman." "Bloody 'ell!" Rayne panted, pulling himself upright. He shook his head a little. "I've never ridden an'orse!" He thought he saw Chen's lips quirk upward in a brief, unchecked smile. "It is a simple thing," the translator assured him. "You climb astride and we will show you the rest." He had been expecting it but all the same his heart sank. This session could run all night. An hour, Johnno had said. Bastard! He scrambled over Chen's voluminous thighs and closed his eyes as he knelt lower, into the big man's exposed groin. He was touched and groped immediately; Chen's fat fingers exploring him, then guiding his sticky cock head into place between Rayne's buttocks. The pulsing head felt like a living creature, nudging at his ring, begging admittance. He bent his head, feeling sick. "Please... I've done what you wanted," he exhaled wearily. Chen's fingers tightened on his thighs as they conversed in Chinese. The skinny cameraman said; "If you do this, Mr. Chen will pay extra." "Yeah?" Rayne lifted his head slightly, peering out from under his cow's lick of blond fringe at the fellow beneath him. "How much, extra?" They conferred again, in hushed whispers as if they feared he might understand too much. Rayne understood nothing more than their desperation. They were hungry for him and willing to pay. That translated itself in his head quite easily. "Mr Chen will give you another hundred pounds." Rayne looked the skinny fellow squarely in the eye. "Two hundred," he said, steadily. The translator came and sat on the bed. He held an urgent, whispered conversation with Chen and Rayne sat back, sighing with relief at the temporary cessation of his violation. "Two hundred, then," the little man exhaled at last. "Should I speak to Mr. John?" "No." Rayne let the instruction fall from his lips before he had time to think straight. "No, he doesn't need to know about this, right? You can give the money to me. I'll sort it out." They whispered at one another again. "You ride us 'both' first and then we will give you the money," the thin man stated. "No." Rayne shook his head again. "You said an hour. It's been more than that. If you want more, you can pay for it up front. You try anything else without paying and I'll scream the place down. John'll rip your balls off. He will!" The translator muttered something and Chen gripped Rayne's hips tighter, pulling him downward. Immediately, the young rent boy began to shriek like a banshee. They leapt on him, trying to silence him, but the door burst open at once and Rabid John stormed in, keen to protect his principal asset. "What's goin' on?" "John... it's been an hour! Tell them... tell them, it's goin' to cost 'em if they want more. They've done it with me. They wanna do it again." Rayne managed genuine tears. He was absurdly proud of the performance. He though that John actually looked startled. "Come on fellas... give the kid a break," he implored now. "We don't want the Old Bill sniffin' around, do we?" John drew the translator off to one side of the room and put an arm around the fellow, engaging in murmured negotiations. Rayne knelt on the edge of the mattress keeping one eye on Chen. The fat man was still ogling him greedily. Nodding his head knowingly, the slender little whore licked the tip of one finger and pointed it at Johnno, then touched his tongue to a second finger and tapped his own nose with it before spreading his legs wider, giving the huge Chinaman a tantalising glimpse of what might be made available to him. At once the fat man winked his acknowledgement. He said something urgently to his wiry interpreter and the little fellow whispered something to John. The silver case was opened and money changed hands. "Another half hour," Johnno said firmly to Rayne. "No more. I'm watching the clock." "Yeah, like fuck you are!" Rayne rolled his eyes. As the door closed behind Rabid John, he looked more pointedly at Chen. "Do we have a deal, fat man?" "You are very smart boy," Chen told him in faltering English. Rayne smiled a little at that. "I thought you understood more than you were givin' away," he observed shrewdly. "So... how much do you want my fanny, darlin'?" "Fan-ee?" Chen looked an enquiry at his companion. "My arse," Rayne elaborated. "My hole! My bum! How much is it worth? How much do you still wanna fuck it?" They put their heads together again. The translator laughed and said; "You are a chancer. We paid another hundred for you. We could still rape you, if you are not willing." "You could," Rayne told him, nodding. "But I'd tell John what you did and he'd come after you and kill you, no problem. He's not a nice person, Mr Chen. He kills people like that!" The youngster snapped his fingers and they both jumped. "On the other hand, you could give me another hundred and I'll do you both at once, both your dicks up my bum, like you wanted." He looked from one face to the other expectantly. They exchanged a few words, nothing more. The translator moved towards the case and he removed a sheaf of money. Carefully he counted out a thin wad of ten pound notes and showed it to Rayne. "One hundred pounds. This is for you. You will do as we say, exactly as we say." Rayne held out his hand and the money was placed in his palm. "I'll do whatever you want," he said brazenly as his fingers closed around the cash. He kept a tight hold on his blood money as they spread and lubed him, his eyes shuttered behind long lashes and teeth clenched as their fingers intruded between his cheeks. Kneeling astride Chen on the bed, he determinedly kept his face averted and refused to look at the big man as he lowered himself slowly onto the fellow's huge prick. It filled him steadily, like a landslide, seeping into every crevice of his body, whereas the translator's stiff, urgent little probe bucked into him fast and hard from behind, moving more rapidly and needily inside him. He caught his breath as the second man entered him and began to screw fiercely, stretching him wider. His ring was pulled in two different directions at once and he squirmed and cried out as they pulsed more determinedly within him. Chen uttered an exclamation and the pulsing stilled as he struggled into a sitting position, slobbering hungrily over Rayne's neck and shoulders. The youngster closed his eyes more tightly. He felt them almost slip out of him for a moment as the fat man clambered to his knees. Podgy hands pulled him close again and yanked his thighs higher, then Chen was pulsing into him once more, thrusting harder now. The Translator was supporting him from behind, also pumping eagerly into him, his entire torso and groin pressed up against Rayne's naked back and buttocks. The slender blond rent-boy was suspended between them, leaning back into the thin man's arms, his legs forced wide around the bulk of Chen's stomach and chest, feet in the air. He struggled ineffectually but his contortions only fed their excitement and encouraged them to fuck his tight young hole more violently. Rayne cried out hoarsely as their differing rhythms picked up speed and urgency in his rectum. He was trembling with exhaustion but also stiff and oozing; frustratingly close to orgasm. A hand closed over his mouth as he uttered a little scream of pain and pleasure. Gagged and restrained by their hands and bodies he rode them and writhed upon them. His balls spasmed and released and he uttered a strangled groan of ecstasy as he sprayed his cum over Chen's furry belly. He felt them stab deeper into him as his muscles tightened and moments later the translator managed a last furious thrust into the hot, wet heart of him. He was lubricated copiously from within and the skinny fellow held on grimly, one hand over their school-boy-whore's mouth, the other delving greedily into his shaven crotch, groping furtively as the fat man kept pounding, harder and faster between Rayne's slim, naked thighs. The young man wriggled and resisted the determined pounding ineffectually. Chen was bent over him now, panting and sweating and still fucking away like a demon. The translator slipped out of his anus but still helped to hold Rayne down on the bed, wiry fingers tight around his ankles, pulling his knees higher and wider so that Chen could get every inch into him. Rayne was too breathless to scream He kept hold of the hundred pounds and focussed all his attention on that. Each savage thrust drove a huff of breath out of him and he bit down on his tongue, pleading silently for it to be the last. He clenched his rectal muscles tightly, milking Chen as vigorously as he knew how. The big man was slowing, but each stab was long and purposeful. When he finally bucked himself deep down into the blond boy's naked body and held his cock there for over a minute as the semen pumped out of him, he did not make a sound. Only when he had expelled his climactic load did an express train whistle of breath escape him. Rayne shuddered uncontrollably as that big tool pulled out of his tortured arse. The China Syndrome The Translator nudged the camera in close between his bare buttocks as he sprawled limply on the bed, catching every last dribble of blood and semen that trickled from his anus. As the camera panned over him, capturing the trails of drying spunk on his chest and face and in his tangled blond hair, he moaned softly, his fingers curled tightly around the wad of notes they had given him. Mr Chen rose and washed at the basin and put his clothes on. The Translator did likewise and packed away their video-camera. Neither man spoke to him, even though he lay upon the bed and watched them move around him like ghosts. When they finally left him alone, he curled up on his side and wept briefly until John came back into the room and told him, in his brisk, no-nonsense way, to put his clothes back on. As he dressed, he thrust the ten, crumpled notes deep into the pocket of his baggy jeans. Only then did he let go. When they left the building, his pale face was expressionless; his green eyes as cold as ice.