Face in the Mirror

Face In The Mirror

Day 4--Part 2

For his part Fat Sam blamed Scott for ruining his slave trading empire. He swore that someday he would have his revenge. Fat Sam moved his business interests into other areas of human depravity, and of course he made millions.

For three years Fat Sam kept tabs on Scott. When he got word that Scott regularly crossed the border to play with a combo in a Mexican cantina Sam knew he had his chance. When he heard that Scott had a boyfriend and that the boyfriend was going to be with him in Mexico, Fat Sam knew the time was right. He had waited three years to get his hands on Scott.

Now he had him!

Eleven Months Before "Day 4" in California:

Scott found himself on the table looking up at Fat Sam. Then at Sam's direction the table was shifted so that Scott was upright and facing his demonic kidnapper. Scott was still tightly bound to the table, wrists, ankles, waist and neck; he was plastered against the damn contraption.

Fat Sam smiled, "I've been waiting three years for this little rendezvous. I can promise without a doubt that this will be the most exciting weekend of your life, little Scottie... May I call you Scottie?"

Scott shot back, "Listen you fuck, you can call me anything you damn well please. Either you'll kill me or sooner or later I'll get off this table and break your fucking neck."

Sam smiled, "Scottie, your biggest problem is that temper of yours. You'd think a senior control like yourself would have better command of his emotions."

Scott returned, "Sam, you're a pig and you disgust me. There's not a scintilla of value in your existence. Every minute you live causes other people pain. You're a disease on humanity and I'd love to be the cure. I'd like to eradicate you. I saw what you did to those kids you kidnapped; anyone who could do that is just plain evil. I don't control my temper around you because I don't want to. I want you to know just how much animus I feel for you... you miserable fuck."

Fat Sam smiled, "Scottie, Shakespeare said that revenge is a dish best served cold. I agree with that sentiment. I've waited for this moment. I've waited to properly thank you for ruining my slave business. You cost me millions and I intend to extract every penny from your flesh... slowly. So dear Scottie you'd best get your emotions in tow. You're going to be my personal pussyboy starting now."

Scott shook his head, "You'd better put a bullet in my brain right now fuckface, because I wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire. Just kill me and get it over with. Besides, I expect my brother and his pals will be here any minute to end your life and rescue me. You know my brother... he's the guy who runs half the world."

Sam scratched his head, "Dear Scott, you underestimate me. Just where do you think you are? We took you in Juarez, but we didn't stay there. My boy we moved. We're in my headquarters now. We're just outside Tijuana, in my compound. It would take an army to get in here. Besides no one knows where this place is. Hell Scottie, no one knows where you are. So get those ideas of rescue right out of your head. I've got you. You are mine... all mine. And before this weekend is over you're going to be my willing pussy, my personal cuntboy."

Scott just smiled, "You're gonna need more than an army for that; you're gonna need a miracle..."

Sam interrupted, "Scottie, you should shut the fuck up till you have all the necessary information. You see, we did more than just kidnap you. We did more than just move you across the country. While you were sleeping we were getting to know a friend of yours."

And as Fat Sam snapped his fingers Scott felt his stomach tighten. One of Sam's men opened the heavy metal door and another of Sam's cookie cutter blondes (the famous Jaws) walked into the room tugging on a leash. Scott wasn't prepared for what he saw next. At the other end of the leash, Jack came crawling in on his hands and knees. He was naked and sticking out of his ass was the other end of a long double headed dildo. Jack's eyes were unfocused and cloudy; his mouth was open and he was drooling. It was obvious that he had been drugged... and god knows what else.

Sam beamed a big smile, "Scottie we have all come to know and love your friend Jack. We've come to know him and we've come in him and we've come on him. He's been very accommodating. I can see why you find him so charming. He's a gifted communicator. I go as far as saying that his mouth is very persuasive. Now Scottie, before you start to make all kinds of nasty comments and before you get any strange ideas let me TELL YOU A FEW THINGS. AND YOU'D BETTER HEAR ME BECAUSE JACK'S LIFE WILL DEPEND ON IT."

Scott used every ounce of his control to hold his temper and think. His mind was going a hundred miles an hour. He was calculating the distance between himself and Fat Sam. He was going through every Kung Fu, Ninja, Jiu-jitsu, Karate, and acrobatic move he'd ever been taught. At some point they had to move him or take him off this table or reposition him. He might only have one chance to strike and he was determining the best way to make that strike. In a millisecond he decided to kill Fat Sam at all costs. He'd break his neck or tear out his throat, whichever was easiest before Sam's goons could kill him in return. He'd have maybe one chance before he died to put Fat Sam down. It would be worth whatever the cost. All these thoughts were racing through Scott's mind as Fat Sam drew his next breath and continued his speech.

"Now Scottie, I know that all you Organization cunts are good with your hands. I'd lay odds you're planning my death as I am speaking, but you'd better listen to me. Do you see that doggie collar around Jack's neck? See that cute little blinking LED? Well Scottie, there's enough C-4 in that collar to blow Jack's head clean off his shoulders. Yup, you go for my throat and either I or one of my men will press one of these little remote controls and BOOM, there goes Jack's head. Now Scottie, is that what you want? Do you want to have to explain to Jack's parents how you loved him so much that he wound up losing his head over you? Scottie I want your solemn promise that you won't try any heroics... none... or poor Jack will suffer the consequences. And Scottie, I have one of these nifty Organization gizmos that does a voice-stress analysis. It's gonna tell me if you're being honest with me. If it says that you're lying. Well then you're gonna watch as we make the rest of Jack's life a living hell, and then we're going to blow his head off and I'll just kill you. It would be a real bore, but I'm willing to do it. Let me just say this. If you don't cooperate and you force me to kill your lover here; well Scottie I'm going to do my very best to come up with the most gruesome torture I can possibly think of.... and Scott, you know how creative I am when it comes to pain... long... agonizing... misery."

Scott thought it all over. He was trapped. This miserable fuck was holding all the cards. Scott didn't have a choice. He could cooperate or watch the guy he loved be hurt. That was unthinkable. He would do whatever Fat Sam wanted. Anything to save Jack... Anything. Scott summoned all his mental control; he summoned it and focused all his energy in a new direction. For the moment he would do ANYTHING... ANYTHING. He'd be Fat Sam's pussy; he'd be his whipping boy; he'd do whatever he was told. Scott focused all his will in that direction, toward being totally cooperative, totally submissive to Fat Sam... whatever he wanted... ANYTHING.... ANYTHING.

Fat Sam was beside himself with glee, "OK Scottie, you speak right into the voice analyzer. Are you going to do whatever I tell you?"

Scott answered, "Yes."

Sam shook his head, "Now Scottie, it's going to take more than that.... and you fucking know it so stop screwing around. Are you going to be my boy?"

Scott answered, "Yes Sam I will do whatever you want... I will be your boy. I will do whatever you ask. Just don't harm Jack."

Sam went on, "And you will not try to hurt me or any of my men?"

Scott replied, "No Sam... sir... I will not try to hurt anyone."

Sam interjected, "or argue, or be uncooperative." Scott added, "or argue, or be uncooperative."

Sam continued, "And you're gonna be my pussy.... my whore... my cunt... and do anything.... anything... and everything I ask of you."

Scott tried to calm himself, "and I'll be your whore, pussyboy.... whatever you tell me. I'll be whatever you want Sam."

Sam furrowed his brow, "Now Scottie, this little thing-a-ma-jig is telling me that you're being truthful, but boy I can see for myself that your heart isn't in it. So lemme just spell this out for you. Scottie boy I'm feeling confident that I don't have to worry about you trying to kill me.... or my men. You aren't that stupid. I think you know that I'd blow your lover's head off as easy as scratch my ass. So that part's pretty OK, but Scottie, if you won't cooperate in all my games, well then let me make it clear to you that I'll just use Jack here. You don't wanna be my cunthole cumdump then I'll tenderize your friend here and use him. The problem is that I can't vouch for his health and well-being. His ass, so to speak, will be in your hands." and Sam started to laugh, "Did you hear that Jaws? Jack's ass is gonna be in Scott's hands.... That's downright funny.... Jesus, I should be a comedian... Now Scottie in your little love matches with Jack here I don't know who does the pitching and who does the catching, but I'd say it's a sure thing that Jack here, takes a lot more than he gives. So you may just want him to take your place. Who knows, he might like getting fucked by dozens of strangers. What do you think Scottie?"

Scott tried his damnedest to be sincere, "Look Sam, I understand what you want and I'm going to give it to you. I'll do whatever you say. Just leave Jack out of it. Leave him alone and I'll be your whore. I'll be the best cuntboy you've ever had. Just leave Jack alone."

Fat Sam's self-satisfied smile returned, "Scottie, Scottie, Scottie that's just what I needed to hear. And let me just say this you fucking cunt; after this weekend you're going to know once and for all that you screwed with the wrong guy; you're going to realize just how bad it was to mess with me and my operation; you're going to be sorry you were ever created. BUT if you do what I tell you Jack here gets out of this alive and in one piece. I'll have some fun with him. You're out of your head if you think I'm not going to play with him some, BUT he'll be able to walk out of here in about 48 hours, even if he's walking a little funny. I can't say the same for you. You cost me money, a lot of money and I'm going to extract every cent from your flesh. By the way, other than the aphrodisiacs and priapic medications and the Viagra etc. I won't be giving you any drugs. Nope, I want you to feel everything; I want you to remember everything. So even six months from now when you're a fucked out bag of jiz, with no dick and no balls, half way around the world in some freak sheik's harem of ugly transsexual slave girls, you'll still remember every detail of your downfall... Are you with me Scottie? Do you get my meaning?"

Scott got Sam's meaning; he was head to toe covered in terror sweat. This miserable fuck had plans to castrate him and sell him as a woman; it was his worst fear made real. The lump in Scott's throat was growing into the size of a boulder, but he had to control himself. He did not want to give this bastard the pleasure of his fear, of his tears, but for the first time since he'd been taken Scott didn't see any way out. He was absolutely convinced that Sam was word for word on the level. He knew that he would do whatever it took to keep Jack safe. He decided to do whatever Sam asked. He used his own hypnotic control to override his sexual preferences, to work against his natural dominance, his strong male ego, his basic nature as a top. He put himself back in the position of a candidate. He had to use that programming turned inside out to give his will over to Fat Sam. In the Organization "transitioning," relinquishing your will was done for your own greater good; so that you could grow without limits. Now he had to surrender his will.... period... end of discussion.... no growth... only total submission. For a moment Scott realized what a great Yield this whole scenario would have made. The "Yield" was that one final test in every candidacy; it was different for each person; it was considered Top Secret; devised and known by each candidate's panel of senior controllers. The Yield had to successfully demonstrate that the candidate was capable of total surrender for the "greater good." As such candidates didn't know anything about "Yields." They didn't know to expect them. They had no idea what they were or that each of them would face one especially designed for their specific circumstances. In any event Scott saw his predicament as a perfect Yield and he realized that if he honed his mind set properly he could get himself to fully cooperate with Fat Sam if he "pretended" that he was a candidate and this was his moment of truth. That is what Scott did. That is how he made his mind wrap itself around his total submission, something utterly foreign to his nature. He kept thinking of C and all he'd taught him. He was confident that this is exactly what C would do. So he did it.

Scott answered, "Yes sir, Sam. I am yours to command; whatever you wish. You only need to speak the words and I will obey sir... you are my lord and master."

Sam bubbled over, "Christ this is gonna be sweet." And he grabbed Jack's leash and pulled him over to an overstuffed leather chair. Sam sat in the chair and pulled Jack onto his lap. As he considered what to do next he absent mindedly began to fingerfuck Jack's ass. Scott closed his eyes and waited for his orders.

In a couple minutes Jack's cock was bouncing against his belly and prefuck was dribbling down his shaft and dripping off his balls. He looked like a naked ventriloquist's dummy sitting sideways on Sam's knees. As Scott watched his drugged out lover getting his prostate massaged he felt a pang of jealousy. Even sky-high, Jack was adorable, sitting on Sam's lap, half a smile on his stoned face, staring off into space, getting ever more turned on, starting to breathe deeply, a faint shimmer of sweat rising on his muscled young body, his light brown hair hanging into his dreamy eyes; he was so captivating, so genuinely pure and sweet.

Fat Sam finally spoke, "Shithead, go and get Timmy. He's hanging like a side of beef by his feet, down the hall in room six." Sam's tall Aryan slave-man-boy left the room, presumably to get "Timmy."

Sam continued, "Scottie, we need to soften you up a bit... get you in the bottom frame of mind... get you to see you're only purpose is to be a cumdump, a pussyhole, a pissboy-jizbag, a big sloppy cunthole You're going to love Timmy. I bought him from his drug-addict-whore of a mother for five bucks and some methamphetamine. Timmy was sixteen and he'd already started to peddle his ass to the rest of the trailer park for food. That was ten years ago. Timmy was a sweet piece of ass for a few years; then I ran out of ways to make him scream. Now he's a totally fucked out bottom boy who is no longer of any value to me. He's so tenderized that he can't even get a hard-on unless he's in horrible agony, and even then it takes a lot of constant grisly pain for this jiz-hungry hound to even think about getting himself off. Timmy's been so orgasm-deprived for so very long that he no longer cares. I could cut his cock and balls off right now, with a rusty knife and no anesthetic....and he'd love it... And I really honestly mean he would love it AND he wouldn't miss either his little prick or his oversized, swollen, punched out useless testes. Yup, all our Timmy cares about is getting other guys off, taking their anger, taking their beatings, and then sucking down their cum, and then getting hurt some more. Timmy's idea of a good time is having a dozen bikers beat the shit out of him and then rape the shit out of him with their monster cocks and then the icing on Timmy's cake would be if they kicked the shit out of him once more after they all finished raping his ass and his face. And when Timmy gets raped he wants guys with huge joints to rape him.... the bigger the better.... especially if they make him bleed. That's our Timmy.

And Scottie, what I want is for you to bottom for my timid tiny Timmy... and Scottie I have no fucking idea how you're gonna get Timmy off... or even hard for that matter. BUT I figure if you can bottom for Timmy, well then you're ready for the next phase of my little plan. When I put it all together on video-tape, you're gonna make me a fortune, and I think we'll call it something like "Cum on Scottie, Top to Bottom" or "Revenge is sweet and so is Scottie's pussy," something like that."

A couple minutes later the Aryan brute came back in leading a boy on all fours by his left ear. The poor kid's ears were both bright red and stretched out. Using the same ear the goon pulled the kid to his feet. Scott got a good look at the young man. His first and most striking impression was that the kid looked like a trapped animal, with huge dark eyes that darted around the room. The boy couldn't have been taller than 5'4" and no more than 110lbs, but he was in prime condition. Timmy didn't have a single hair below his chin. He did have a long black ponytail that offset the whiteness of his pure alabaster skin. He reminded Scott of some of the smaller wrestlers he knew back in high school with muscles that looked like knotted rope, bulging at the shoulders, with beautiful pecs. Timmy's oversized nipples had been "worked on" they were an inch long and stood out like the erasers on pencils. His areolas were the size of silver dollars, way too large for his small frame. Each of Timmy's nips had a large gold hoop through it as well as a lot of obvious scar tissue. Scott surmised that those nipple rings had been torn out on more than a couple occasions. Timmy's body was covered in old and new bruises, scars, and lacerations. His ears looked permanently damaged, and his back was covered in horizontal and vertical whip marks and scars, old and new. Timmy's uncut dick couldn't have been more than two inches long and was so shriveled up into his foreskin that it looked as though it was trying to retreat back into the boy's body. The kid's foreskin hung down four or five inches past the lump that had to be his dickhead. The dangling foreskin was dotted with holes and bruises; like it had often been chewed on. His balls were a mess. They hung about six inches below his dick, both were the size of large eggs and the left nut hung two inches lower than the right in their stretched out sac. His whole scrotum was swollen and purple. From a distance Timmy looked like a prepubescent boy, but he had the bruised, scarred up face of a forty year old war veteran. And as Timmy stood there Scott could see his toes all curled up clawing at the floor, trying to dig a hole for the boy to crawl in.

Scott was at a total loss. How in hell was he going to do anything to this kid, with this kid, let alone bottom for him? Timmy looked like one good BOO! would send him into cardiac arrest.

Sam shot instructions to his man, "Shithead bring our Timmy over to meet Scottie. And Scottie how about you give our Tim a big kiss. Fuckface, release Scott's neck and wrists. And Scott, one funny move and Jack gets dead. We do understand each other don't we?"

As Fuckface released the bonds on Scott's neck and hands Scott replied, "Sam, I understand everything and I am going to do whatever you say. You needn't worry sir."

As soon as Tim was within range of Scott's arms he reached out and pulled the boy to him. Then Scott pressed his lips to Tim's and opened the boy's mouth with his strong tongue. Scott gave the boy a long, slow, wet kiss. All the while Timmy's eyes kept darting around the room. He was waiting for the pain to begin. He was hoping for the pain to begin. He could lose himself in the pain. All this relative quiet was filling him with abject terror. What awful horror did Fat Sam have in store for him?

Scott asked, "Sam is Timmy drugged? Are you going to give him some Viagra... an aphrodisiac? Anything?"

Sam smiled, "How would that be any fun? If I drug Timmy into an erection.... well then this whole exercise would be a sham. Nope, Timmy hasn't been given any kind of drugs at all, no sedatives, no stimulants, no hallucinogens, no sex enhancing meds, nothing. Scottie, you've got to learn how to bring out the fucked up, cock hungry, bottomboy in yourself. I know you can do it. I know you're a big pussy at heart. I think all you Organization assholes are actually cunts in Armani suits. You want to be a big Nelly, I know it, you know it. You've just got to let that great big cum hungry fag-slut in you out. So get busy!"

Sam had his man Shithead completely free Scott, but first he showed Scott two things. The first was the tiny remote that would trigger Jack's collar and blow his head off; the second was the small pistol Sam had in a shoulder holster. Sam couldn't very well blow off Jack's head while he had him on his lap, but he could put a bullet in him at the drop of a hat. Scott once again swore to be cooperative.

With that Sam gave a bunch of orders to his men. They brought out video equipment and microphones and hooked everything up. They even dragged a big four inch thick wrestling mat into the center of the room. Then the black goon pulled out a large brown box and began to take out items like, whips, dildoes, duct tape, nipple clamps, and handcuffs and threw them into the center of the matt.

Sam said, "There you go boys. That's your little love matt. Scottie you and Timmy get down there and get busy. And for your information the whips and clamps and dildoes are all for you Scottie. Those are all for Timmy to use on your big pussyass. You aren't going to restrain him or hurt him in any way. Let's face it he's your man, he's your big butch top and you're his big Nellie cumdump bottomboy; let's not forget that for one second. And Scott I don't have all night. I want a show. So get busy you big pussy."

And for a few minutes Fat Sam turned his attention to Jack. He turned the young man's face to his own and began to kiss him. Jack was still in Never-Never Land; in so much of a haze he happily complied and opened wide as Sam explored his mouth and continued to finger Jack's ass. Jack was getting off on all the attention. and truth be told he was close to coming all over Sam's lap.

Meanwhile Scott was on the floor with poor terrified Timmy, and he was racking his brain for everything he's learned as a skillful Control. He remembered back to his conversation with C almost three years ago when they'd rescued those slaveboys from Fat Sam's ranch. C had told him to go to their level, to take them as they were and lead them out. That together with his knowledge of hypnosis and mind control gave him an idea. He laid back and pulled Timmy over top of him; he placed his right hand in the small of Timmy's back and used his left hand to pull Timmy's head over his left shoulder. He had his lips up against Timmy's right ear. He alternately tapped four pressure points on Timmy's lumbar spine, alternating randomly with the tips of his fingers. He'd tap one point with his index finger then shift to another point and tap it with his little finger. He was using a modified form of the handshake induction. It used misdirection to confuse the conscious mind. As he randomly tapped these pressure points Timmy's brain received several confusing messages. While his consciousness was trying to figure out what was going on Scott whispered into Timmy's ear. What he said bled into the boy's unconscious without the usual resistance. The suggestions would take quickly. Scott kept saying to himself, "Meet him at his level and lead him out."

To Timmy Scott whispered, "Pain is pleasure is pain is pleasure is pain is pleasure is pain is pleasure." Gradually Scott shifted the emphasis in his voice till the mantra became, "Pleasure is pain is pleasure is pain is pleasure."

Scott prayed the suggestion would work. It was so damn simple. Was it possible to rewire this kid so easily?

"Pleasure is pain is pleasure. Pleasure is pain is pleasure. Pleasure is pain is pleasure." Scott repeated it over and over while he alternately tapped the pressure points. It was time for a test. He moved Timmy's head over his own. Timmy's eyes were vacant. He was under. Yes! Yes! Yes! Time to see if the suggestion was in place. Scott brought Timmy's lips down to meet his own. To Scott's surprise Timmy initiated a kiss. Scott went for it. He let the boy savagely kiss him. YES!!! Pleasure is pain is Pleasure. Timmy could have his pick. Pleasure or pain. The suggestion left them interchangeable. It might not last. Once the trance was lifted Timmy would probably revert to his prior programming, but it was working for the moment and Scott wasn't about to look this gift horse in the mouth.

Scott felt something hard pressing against his abs. IT WAS TIMMY'S DICK. The boy was hard! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Scott started to talk to the boy, "Fuck me Tim. Fuck my ass. I'll be your whore Tim. Make me your pussyboy. Fuck me Tim."

And Timmy went ballistic. It was as if all the years of horrible abuse and pain had been washed away. The boy found his backbone. The boy found his bone! And he was in heaven. He began raking his hard five inches all over Scott's washboard abs.

Scott began to actually enjoy his role as Dr. Frankenstein. Sure he was playing the role of Timmy's bottomboy, but in Scott's mind he was kind of fucking himself. He was so damn proud of his creation. He decided to let the boy enjoy his new found dominance.

Scott moaned into Timmy's ear, "Let me suck your giant knob sir. Let me suck you cock master Tim."

Timmy leap-frogged over Scott's shoulders and slid his hard dick into Scott's warm mouth. Since Tim's hard prick wasn't exactly huge Scott was able to stuff the boy's oversized ball sac in his mouth next to Tim's prick. Sure it was a mouthful, but what the hell.

At about this point in the festivities Fat Sam shifted his attention away from Jack who'd had a giant cum all over Sam's shirt front and was in the process of licking it clean. When Sam saw Timmy playing top to Scott's bottom he did a double take. What the fuck was going on? This was not possible. He had wanted both Scott and Timmy an impotent mess. He figured he's let them screw around unsuccessfully while he berated Scott for being such a failure as a human being. He had planned on having his goons work Scott over with all the sex toys for a few hours and then move on to the next part of his plan. BUT Timmy had an erection. How was that possible? This kid couldn't get hard till he'd had thirty or forty lashes, even then he couldn't cum till they beat him nearly to death. Now without any violence Scott had the boy fucking his mouth.

Sam was pissed! Still, he was also fascinated at the amazing change in Timmy. So he watched... besides Scott was playing bottomboy like a pro.

Meanwhile Scott grabbed Timmy's joint and began to chew on his sizeable foreskin. It had seen a lot of abuse and had dozens of holes in it, but Scott was careful and tried to give the boy a real thrill. He whisked his tongue all around the head of Tim's prong while he moved his foreskin back and forth. Timmy started yelling, "Yes, yes, yes, yes."

Then Scott took advantage of Timmy's position to lick under his balls and trace his tongue around the boy's stretched out asshole. Scott slurped at Tim's perineum and nibbled on his thighs. He played with Tim's ass with his hands while he mouthed his crotch. He traced Tim's crack; he slapped his ass cheeks; he fingered Tim's hole while he flicked his tongue all around it. Then he went back to Timmy's cock and sucked it for dear life. This went on for several minutes. Timmy's eyes rolled back into his head. He closed his eyes and squealed; he laughed; he yelled; he rode Scott's mouth.

Scott pulled his mouth off the boy's cock for a moment and said, "Fuck me Tim.... sir.... Fuck me master."

That did it. Timmy's dick began to fire. Scott quickly popped the prick back into his mouth and sucked out the last three or four shots of smooth, sweet, boycream. And then he just kept sucking. Pretty soon Timmy's dick began to deflate. Scott did some fast thinking and brought his shoulders up. In that movement Timmy went back as Scott came up. Scott kind of rolled over Timmy till the boy was on his back with Scott looking down into his face. He grabbed Timmy and rolled onto his back so that they were back in their very first position. Scott immediately redid the beginning of the induction. This time Timmy was there way ahead of him. His mind was eager to accept these pleasant suggestions. Ten seconds later Timmy was hard as stone and drooling boy Spooge.

This time Fat Sam saw what Scott did. Sam thought to himself, "This clever motherfucker thinks he can outsmart me. Christ this arrogant cunt is going to need some real pain and humiliation... before I kill him."

Scott began his monologue again, "Come on Master Tim, fuck my ass. Fuck me good Tim, sir."

Timmy said, "Now I'm gonna fuck your ass." And he slid down between Scott's legs.

Scott for his part grabbed his knees and gave the boy easy access to his waiting hole. Timmy applied his gooey prick to Scott's asshole and it slid all the way in. Timmy had never fucked anyone else in his life. He liked it. He liked it a lot. Scott liked it too. Timmy's prick wasn't much larger than Scott's own index finger. It wasn't like the boy was going to leave him bloody. For Scott it kind of tickled. Timmy on the other hand was in heaven. He began to gently rock back and forth. He tried to bend down and kiss Scott but the closest he could get to Scott's face was the middle of his chest. So Timmy licked the hairs between Scott's nipples and he moaned and he moaned and he moaned.

Scott used his muscular control to give the kid a good ride. He alternately squeezed Timmy's cock as hard as he could and then opened up so there was almost no contact at all. Scott milked Timmy's prick. It drove the boy nuts.

In his final act as Timmy's bottomboy Scott pushed Timmy onto his back and sat on the boy's dick. Scott was careful not to apply his whole weight to Tim's small pelvis. At the same time he used his concentration to hold onto Timmy's little prick and give him a good fuck. In the last few minutes Scott worked up quite a sweat bouncing up and down very, very quickly to make this the best orgasm the boy had ever had. Scott did his best to make Timmy feel like he was really plowing Scott's ass.

Scott said, "Jesus Tim sir, you prick is so hard, sir. Your cock feels so good up my ass master. That's it master fuck me, fuck my ass. Thank you master for giving your pussyboy suck a good fucking. Thank you sir for suck a good fuck. Thank you sir for your hard cock up my worthless ass. Thank you sir. That's it, fuck your boy sir. Fuck your boy!"

In another moment Timmy hit the note over high C and held it as he fired volley after volley of boyseed into Scott's ass. The cum leaked back out spilling all over Timmy's crotch. When Timmy stopped shooting Scott laid down next to him.

Timmy rolled on top of Scott. He stared down into Scott's eyes. For the first time Scott saw how really beautiful this boy was. Timmy's eyes were clear. He brought his head down and kissed Scott, a genuinely honest, warm, thankful kiss. They closed their eyes and lost themselves for a moment. Scott felt little taps on his cheeks.... it was Timmy's tears. The boy was crying softly. Timmy whispered, "Thank you Scottie, thank you, thank you."

Next thing Scott's eyes began to fill with tears.

Fat Sam jumped out of his chair tossing Jack onto the floor and yelled at the top of his voice, "Fuck this shit! I don't believe it. You cunts are both pussies. You have ruined my evening."

Sam snapped his fingers and screamed at his man shithead to get Timmy out of his sight. The huge goon grabbed the boy by his ponytail and dragged him screaming out of the room and down the hall. Timmy squealed all the way, "Scottie....Scottttttttttttieeeeeee!"

Scott yelled, "Please Sam don't hurt him. I'll do whatever you want, but don't hurt that boy."

Sam rifled back, "Who the fuck are you, Mother Teresa? Have you come to save the world? I hate your fucking guts. I should kill you both right now."

And with that Fat Sam grabbed the small remote and put his thumb over the button. At the same time he pulled out his gun. Then he hesitated for a moment.

Scott tried to reason with him, "Hey look that was your fault. You told me to bottom for that boy and that's exactly what I did. Now you're pissed.... and why? Because I did exactly what you told me to do? You wanted a bottomboy and that's what I was. What are you so damn pissed about?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, "Don't play the fool. It doesn't suit you Scott. You know damn well that I never expected that little scenario to work out. I wanted to see you get all... well, never mind... forget it... just forget it."

And with that Sam put his gun away and helped Jack off the floor. Sam put his arm around Jack's waist and pulled the young man up to his body. He licked Jack's neck and toyed with his ass crack. Jack's cock sprang back to life.

Sam said, "Let's move ahead. We have a lot to do and very little time to get it all done."

Scott didn't like the sounds of that... not one bit.

Sam said, "OK Shithead, you and the boys, I want you to top for Scottie. And if any of you smile... or begin to thank each other... or do anything nice.... I'll fucking kill you all!"

With that Sam went back to his chair, Jack on his lap, while his three favorite goons began to manhandle Scott. They dragged him to the center of the matt and while the big black creep began to undress, the Aryan guy picked up the largest dildo and unceremoniously shoved it into Scott's ass. Scott was still lubricated from Timmy's fuck so the dildo didn't do the kind of damage Sam might have hoped for. It did surprise Scott and he did yell a bit. The damn rubber cock was huge; almost as big around as Fat Sam's real dick. The muscled blond-blond began to ram the cock in and out of Scott's ass; at the same time he grabbed Scott by his hair and wrestled him around till he was on his hands and knees. As soon as the black goon was naked he replaced the rubber cock with his own big black uncut prick. He began by shoving all eleven inches into Scott. He didn't stop till his ball sac hit Scott's. Then he began to powerfuck him. The Aryan youth took the opportunity to open his pants, pull out his own nine inch prick, kneel at Scott's head, and push it into his mouth. Scott did his best to accommodate both pricks; he did his best to give these guys a good time so they would come and get off of him. Sam's third man made sure to capture every degradation on video.

Meanwhile Fat Sam watched the festivities; toyed with Jack's asshole; chewed on his neck; and periodically spoke. He said, "See Jack, your new man is a cunt at heart. Look how he's taking it up the ass and loving every moment...Listen Jack, hear how he's moaning like a bride on her wedding night. Look how he loves to be fucked. Jack how could you ever let that pussycunt put his cock up your ass? Where was your self-respect? Can't you see what a cock hungry whore he is?"

Scott's ears were burning. Then Sam told his guys to "liven things up," and they began to slap Scott's ass and grab his balls and use their fingernails to dig into his nipples. While the black stud fucked Scott's ass he picked up the handcuffs and handed them to the blond whose dick Scott was munching on. The blond reached down and grabbed Scott's right hand and snapped on a cuff; then he pulled Scott's wrist up off the floor and pulled it roughly behind his back; then he reached around and grabbed Scott's left hand and pulled it off the floor; then with help from the black stud they cuffed Scott's hands behind his back. Scott had to balance himself on his knees as the black goon continued to fuck his ass and the blond kept pounding his mouth. The blond was holding onto Scott's hair with both hands and doing his best to choke Scott on his prick. The black creep picked up the roll of duct tape and tore off a piece; meanwhile he never missed a beat of his power-fucking Scott's sore asshole. The huge black man took the piece of tape, and wrapped it around Scott's furry thigh. He pressed the tape to Scott's leg and in the next second he tore it off along with all the hair stuck to it. Scott tried to scream but wound up gagging on the blonde's big rod instead. He coughed and choked and lost his breath; he struggled to free his hands and tried to pull away from the dick that was cutting off his air. The blond tightened his hold on Scott's hair and shoved his dick further down Scott's throat. Scott was going crazy, choking and gagging and retching. He started to close his mouth, but the blond was faster, he let go of Scott's hair and grabbed his jaw, forcing it to remain open, his hard prick still rammed down Scott's throat. Scott's face turned red then purple then blue then bluer, and just before he lost consciousness the blond pulled his cock back a few inches and Scott was able to heave in a gulp of air, and then another before the blond rammed his cock back into Scott's throat. Scott thought he was about to die. He could not breathe; he began to shake. Finally, both of Sam's men eased off for a minute and Scott coughed and coughed and choked and choked; he struggled to draw one ragged breath after another; he fell forward and his head hit the mat.

The blond boy bent down to Scott's face. He said, "Breaks over!" And he grabbed Scott's hair and the black stud grabbed his hips and in another minute both men were hammering at Scott's ass and throat once again.

At the same time they began to talk to him, "Yes baby take my cock up your ass, you whore, you cunt, you pussy.... That's right fucker suck on my knob. Suck it real good so I can shoot my load down your fucking throat.... Hey Scott, can you feel my prick way up in your guts you fucking cunt? I'm gonna shoot a shitload of cream way up your ass and then these other guys are going to take my place.... We're gonna fuck you up like the woman you are...That's right sweetie, suck my prong.... now lick my balls while I slap your face with my dick for a while.... that's it lick my sweaty balls you cumdump, fucking whoreboy...get way under there with your tongue and lick my hole... get it all... Hey Scottie boy I'm gonna shoot my load up your guts. Are you ready because here it comes."

And with that the black stud began to fire his load into Scott's ass. That sent the Aryan over the edge and he applied load after load of thick white jism all over Scott's face. And without stopping for more than a few seconds the two men switched positions. The big black goon rammed his thick black prick into Scott's mouth. The huge black dick was covered in boyjiz from Timmy along with Scott's own ass slime and the black guys white sperm. The uncut black cock was a filthy mess, covered in a mix of body fluids, goo everywhere all stuck under his foreskin and in his enlarged pisshole and Scott was forced to down it all and suck it and lick it, and clean it off, while the blond-blond began to ream his ass.

And the creeps continued to degrade him at every chance. They slapped his face and punched his balls and tore at his nipples as they fucked his face and ass. Then they rolled him onto his back and continued in that position, with Scott's cuffed hands crushed under the weight of his painfully arched back. When these two finished two more came and took their place. One of the men picked up a buggy whip and as two others ravaged Scott's throat and asshole, he whipped Scott's stomach; then he moved down and used the tip of the whip to sting his cock and balls. The creep got the whip moving fast so that it hit Scott's prick and balls several times a second. In a minute Scott's dick was red and stripped with whip marks and his balls were beginning to swell under the beating. When the guys fucking Scott pulled him back up onto his knees, the guy fucking Scott's mouth reached over Scott's back and took hold of the handcuffs. He pulled up on Scott's arms; he pulled them as hard as he could up over Scott's back toward his head. Scott's arms tore at his shoulder joints and began to ache like hell. The guy with the buggy whip changed over to a wider one inch whip which he applied across Scott's back. He whipped him with such force that each welt began to sweat blood at the edges. Scott was soon covered in sweat with blood and welts and bruises beginning to show everywhere. They went on like this for two more hours.

All the while Scott was being savaged Fat Sam kept up his running commentary to Jack who had two more "accidents" all over Sam's lap. Each time Sam made Jack crawl off his lap and lick up his "mess." Then he continued to point out to Jack what a cunt Scott was. Toward the end of the session Fat Sam called over Jaws and had him suck off Sam's very hard fat dick. Jack did his best to help by licking Sam's balls. Every hour Sam gave Jack another injection; a mixed cocktail of drugs to keep him horny as hell and higher than a kite.

After a total of four hours Sam told his men to "straighten up." Scott thought he was going to get a few minutes peace. Boy was he mistaken.

As always, let me know what you think. controlone@adelphia.net