Loving Boyz Blissful Torture - Chapter 1 (authoritarian) ___________________________________________________________
An erotic fantasy by Pete Marenga. (c) 2003, Pete Marenga.
All names, places, and personalities are pure fantasy, and do not, have not, and cannot exist in the real world. ___________________________________________________________
(But, dammit, I wish they did.)
"There's something about pleasure--pleasure stretched to its limit--when a man or a boy screams with his aching need to come-- a need artificially delayed by outside, human intervention. That, mixed with mild pain, is the ultimate sexual experience."
"Oh, in desperation, the things men will do to come!"
--Lawrence Geuorman
"My first day at the school, I marveled at the size of the place, and the hundreds of rooms. In one room, boys from 13 to 19 were being taught how to masturbate 'properly.' A great number of boys were on their backs, obeying, with their hands on their dicks, following the instructions of the teacher. They each had a partner, however, who held a rope attached to the masturbating boy's scrotum, and seemed to be pulling that rope to a different rhythm that that of the masturbation instruction.
"They also showed me a room with seven eighteen-year-old boys in it. They were beautiful, naked, feet on the floor, but arms raised and suspended from ropes above; and each was erect-- probably a chemically-induced, prolonged erection.
"They were sweating, teeth clenched, chests heaving, shaking-- arms and legs quivering; their faces pathetic parodies of their originals. The wretched moans of these boys was, to me, both heart-rending and frightening. The master asked me to examine them and see if I could correctly discover the reason these boys were in such a grievous condition.
"Obviously, they were in pain. I saw each boy had his nuts all wrapped up with a long elastic bandage, like an Ace bandage. I told the master I thought they were in pain because their balls had been injured. I was wrong, he told me. These boys had been frequently sexually teased to give them blue balls. Their basic needs were continually met, but they had been here for five days.
"The bandage was applied tightly--thus the pain in their balls. The tightness of bandage was periodically readjusted just so-- causing just enough pressure on their sensitive testicles to keep them in constant misery--not quite torture, but uncomfortably close to its threshold. It was sheer fright that prevented me from asking why these unfortunate boys were put into such a state of distress.
"Eventually, I was told, the offensive bandages would be removed, and the boys would be allowed to suck each other off, providing seriously-needed relief. I was then told to suck the penis of the boy closest to me--who happened to be the smallest but cutest of the bunch, in my opinion. This made he happy, that I would be the one to provide his early release. I felt sorry for the boy when the master stopped my blow job, just as the boy was nearing his climax. It then became clear--the whole exercise had been merely to extend this boy's discomfort.
"I was told not to worry--that when their release day came, they would tell the story afterward of the wonderful teasing and fantastic sexual climaxes they enjoyed. But I was focused on the one boy, wanting to do something to help him, as I had added to his pain. The master, reading my face, promised me the boy I'd sucked would be early released tonight from the bandage and sent to me for his sexual release. That night, in my room with the boy, I had my most memorable sexual experiences and orgasms, ever. The boy, Peter, said the same, and I will remember him only with an erection, as he never seemed to lose it--and despite my sucking the little stud to multiple orgasms, Peter left my room in the morning with bulging shorts.
"I always had sexual fantasies about men--men's bodies--men in their late twenties and early thirties, younger men 17 to 20 something, and even younger men--boys in their mid teens. Some were handsome, some rugged, some pretty; some were skinny, some with my idea of a perfect build, and some quite muscular. ALL were horny--not just horny, DESPERATELY HORNY. In my fantasies, I made them that way, and as they became more desperate for release, they would let me do all sorts of outrageous things to them, or to each other, if I would just let them cum. I wanted to see them shoot their strong, penetrating, pulsating shots-- white streams of pure maleness--and hear them scream, mostly with pleasure, but with a little harmless pain thrown in.
"Now, I can do all those things. I have my authority over groups of men and boys, and oh, the things I do to them. Often, it's the things I have them do to each other. After training these studs for a day, I don't have to masturbate--I can just touch myself, and cum. Instead, I usually engage the studliest ones to bring me slowly to my climax--that is, when I'm not in a hurry.
"I even arrange to have something sexy to watch as I rise to orgasm--I make some of the best-looking ones have sex with each other. Of course, when they get too close, I make them paddle each other--that's a wonderful cool-down process for a boy. It still amazes me--even with their horribly painful cases of blue balls, and sore bottoms--how they all thank me after shooting their potent streams. I love to watch them catch their breath, and rub each others' balls for comfort."
--Don Whitefoot, Age 28, Assistant Headmaster,
Lawrence X. Geuorman School for Men and
Orphanage for Boys - A Division of
The Geuorman Society, Founded 1921
CHAPTER 1 - New Arrivals At A Strange Place _________________________________________________
Jason Adams, age 20, and his brother Brent, 15 were brought first by rail, then by automobile, to a strange-looking place, somewhere in the Western plains of the U.S. There was a complex of buildings visible, and the main building was huge. The small plaque on the cornerstone read:
Geuorman, Boys & Men, Society 2 -
Entertainment and Subservience.
It was obvious to many that this was the day for the newcomers to arrive. In the large receiving room, there was one adult employee waiting for each newcomer, (who had registered in advance). As each new boy and young man entered the place, one of the waiting adults escorted him, from then on.
All the newcomers were wearing baggy shorts and a pressed, loose-fitting, white t-shirt--as previously instructed. On each of the men's and boys' shirts was placed a name tag that included, besides his name, a number which uniquely identified each BOY and MAN.
Jason was a magnificent specimen of manhood freshly arrived from boyhood--with his smooth, freshly-scrubbed face, handsomely sculpted cute features, large, warm brown eyes, and shiny chestnut-brown hair. Everything about the boy/man sparkled.
Don Whitefoot was the adult assigned to twenty-year-old Jason Adams. He read through the papers that Jason carried with him-- papers that informed Don of various facts about Jason, who stood at 5 foot 9 inches tall, weighed 140 pounds, and had a perfectly shaped, somewhat muscled, slim body. His broad smile, white teeth, and enticing 'V' shape made Jason the poster boy of young manhood.
Jason's build, like so many of the others, could be described as slim muscular--the median build. Of course there were waifs and more athletically built men and boys, but in smaller numbers, and in other buildings of the great complex.
Jason's brother, Brent, was of a strikingly different appearance, although the facial resemblance between the boys made their brotherhood unmistakable. Brent was small for 15, about 5 feet 3 inches tall, 110 pounds, quite thin, a true beauty, but with fine, angelic features, amplified by his silky blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Any boy-lover, man-lover, or in-between- lover would grow weak at the sight of this strikingly beautiful, smaller, fifteen-year-old.
The brothers, Jason and Brent Adams, were immediately separated, because the organization of this society demanded grouping the charges or subjects (as they were called) into distinct age categories.
"Where are they taking my brother?" Jason asked, visibly shaken as he watched another adult walk his brother into a different area--away from Jason's caring, watchful eyes.
"He's in a different age group, lad. Don't worry, he'll be well looked after."
"But, sir--"
"We're talking about a large group of men and boys here, Jason. They all must be separated according to law into three groups, or categories:
YOUNG ONES, ages 12 to 14.
BOYS, ages 15 to 19.
MEN, ages 20 to 25.
"The grief-bearing procedures are imposed only on the BOYS and MEN. The YOUNG ONES merely observe and assist--although they have their own set of usual and unusual activities--in private.
"Obviously, since you're 20, you'll be in the men's group," Don went on. "Your younger brother will be in the boy's group. There are other age groups, besides these three, but they're handled in a separate complex." All the while Don spoke, Jason fidgeted and squirmed impatiently, anxious to speak.
"Sir, can my brother be put into MY group?"
"Your brother is 15?"
Jason nodded. "Sixteen, almost."
"I hesitate to say so, but yes. He looks small for almost sixteen. A BOY can cross over, transfer to, or upgrade to the MAN category--although the grievousness of his future daily experience will be magnified many times over what he would endure if he were to remain in his own group category, BOYS."
"No--I don't want that," Jason said firmly but fearfully. He already had some preliminary information about this Geuorman society--and this gave him at least a vague idea what the 'grievous' nature of the experiences would entail. This made Jason cringe at any hint of a higher degree of difficulty for his beloved younger brother.
"Changing or Transferring to a different age category is frowned upon," Don said grimly. "Such Transfers are discouraged by making it clear to the subject that all his future day-to-day procedures and experiences will be more dreadful for the rest of his stay, for anyone who successfully crosses age category lines."
"I see. Then if--"
"However, if a 'MAN' downgrades to the 'BOY' age category, while the boys will do special, nasty things to him on a regular basis, that rougher treatment is better tolerated by a strong, healthy 20 year-old such as you. It may be a wiser choice than having your poor, young brother live his daily life with adult tortures forced on him--although no one is ever actually harmed. However, to you, it will be tremendously humiliating, being . . . shall we say, spanked, and so forth, by boys considerably younger than you."
Of course, Jason knew that while there might be some actual spanking involved, especially since it would be younger boys doing the action, 'spanking' was merely a euphemism for more extreme ministrations.
"Thank you, sir. May I downgrade to BOY, then?"
"Yes, you may downgrade. I can arrange it. Some time after your induction, there will be a special ceremony for your Transfer downward to the BOY category," Don said.
Then Don got his face right into Jason's. "Boy," (he often called all the male subjects by that name), "listen to me!" Don said, "It's horribly difficult--enduring the Transfer Initiation Rites to gain permission to go down into the next age category. You won't be scarred or damaged, by any means, but--you'll be hurting when it's over. And then, in daily life thereafter, you'll have many hours a week in . . . let's call them, more intense procedures--not to mention the humiliation."
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir--I don't care how hard they make it for me. My brother needs me. I think he would do very poorly without me around, sir. I have to go to his age group."
"I understand, boy. Very well. Like I said, you won't be damaged or scarred," Don said with a curious look, obviously in admiration of Jason's courageousness. Jason, even at age 20 was, to Don, still a boy--a nice, fully developed boy.
"Yes, sir."
"You'll have your wish, Jason--daily contact with your brother--once you successfully pass through the difficult ceremonial rites of Transfer."
"Thank you--THANK YOU, sir!"
"One more thing, Jason--is there any sexual activity between you and your little brother?"
"S-sexual activity? Sex? With Brent? No, sir." Jason was greatly stressed over this question. He loved Brent, but not sexually. It never occurred to him to violate his brother's body--or, horror of horrors, be on the receiving end while his little brother did the violating. Until today, Jason could not have imagined such things.
Yet, even then, Jason instantly conjured a sensual vision of his brother Brent's smaller, slim, blonde, blue-eyed body--and began to have a new, if only aesthetic appreciation for his younger brother's beauty.
"Well, that will be part of your entrance rite," Don said. While incest was rare and not encouraged, other than as an embarrassment during an induction or other special event, it did happen occasionally. "Be prepared, Jason. And know that it will be a surprise to your brother."
At this bizarre revelation, Jason's lower lip trembled, he became nauseated, but managed to say the required, 'Yes, sir.'
"Good lad!"
"Sir--exactly what are these procedures? I mean--"
Don held Jason's trembling hands in an effort to calm him. "Yes, of course you need to know that, but I can't tell you the exact processes and methods used. What I WILL tell you is the reasoning BEHIND the procedures, so you'll know their essential nature. With your high intelligence, you'll be more or less able to imagine the specific procedures."
"Yes, sir," Jason said.
Don admired the enticing bounce of Jason's adam's apple. "You seem to be a good boy. I haven't met your brother yet, so I can't speak to his behavior."
"Thank you sir. He's good too, sir. Are we--are we being put here because our parents hate us?"
"No, that's seldom the case. I assume neither you nor your brother--what's his name again?"
"Brent, sir."
"Yes. Most likely neither you nor Brent were problem children."
"Right, sir--I mean, no, we weren't any trouble."
"Then you're here because your parents ran into trouble, and can't raise you right now."
"Trouble, sir? What kind of trouble could that be?"
"It could be financial, emotional, legal--to name some."
"I see," Jason said, a dim light of understanding dawning upon his youthful mind.
"Tell me, Jason, why are you still under your parents' control at age 20?"
"Oh, he said, blushing, I chose that, sir. I was going to college nearby, and lived at home."
"I understand, Jason."
"So this--this place is . . . an orphanage?"
"You might say that. It's more of a school, actually."
"I see. Thank you, sir."
"You're a bit small for 20, aren't you, Jason?"
Jason blushed at this, "Yes, sir."
"I like my boys mature, but small. I'll have you in my bedroom after the induction."
"Yessir," Jason intoned, mechanically.
Jason had known, in advance, that the escorting adult would have sexual rights over his body after the induction, and nodded in acknowledgement of Don's statement. The fear of the unknown-- never having had sex with adult males--gripped at the base of his stomach. The fear of painful 'procedures,' suddenly performed on him gripped him even more disturbingly.
Apparently Don read the look on Jason's face. "Oh. You prefer lads your own age? Well, don't worry, Jason. After tonight you'll have your pick of partners, most of the time."
Jason was restless and distracted--looking all about. Sweat had formed on his delicate, boyish brow.
"All right. Go ahead--look around at all the others, and pick one out. One you really like, of course. Here--use these binoculars. Tell me the lad's tag number, and if you think he's attractive."
Jason seemed mortified at the prospect of discussing and revealing his sexual tastes to a stranger. Eventually, he warmed to the idea, and took the binoculars from Don.
"Over there!" Jason said excitedly, "Number 103. He's hot as hell, I think." The lad blushed at his own words--apparently coming to his senses only after his excitement abated--the excitement of seeing such a beautiful boy as number 103.
Don took the binoculars from Jason and put them to his eyes. "Let me see, number 103 . . . . Hmm, you cute brunettes go for the blue-eyed blondes, don't you?"
"Um, yes sir," Jason said, blushing.
"How old would you say that boy is, the one you picked out?"
"About 17, sir, maybe 16. Could be 18, I suppose." Jason's tenting shorts were an unmistakable sign of his attraction for the somewhat younger boy.
Don checked a list. "He's 17.6 years, to be exact. Cute lad. Nice build. His name is Seth."
"Wow."
"Follow me, boy."
Jason was confused over Don's use of the word BOY, because it was an age category name, meaning 15 to 19-year-old males-- although Jason was pretty sure that Don meant it as a catch-all term. As Jason came out of his deep thought, he immediately recoiled over where Don had taken him--right over to Seth!
"Ah, Michael," Don said, addressing another adult employee who obviously was escorting Seth, "I have a lad here, Jason, who seems to be drooling over your young charge."
"Oh," Michael said, "Jason's drooling over Seth--is that so?"
"Yes. Jason picked Seth out of the whole lot of men here today. He told me that Seth was hot as hell, to use his words."
Jason apparently had never felt such impossibly fierce humiliation as this. It was bad enough having to pick out a boy in front of Don, and tell Don his choice, but to have an outright face-to-face confrontation with the younger boy, and for Don to reveal Jason's own attraction to Seth--saying it out loud-- weakened Jason's knees, took his breath away, and changed his complexion to deep crimson.
Don seemed to take pity on Jason. "Sorry, lad. No need of embarrassment. Why, look! Seth seems to like you, in return," Don said, extending his hand and touching the zipper area of Seth's shorts, where a bulge had formed. It was on its way to becoming a tent, forming after Seth spotted Jason, and growing after Jason's attraction toward Seth was announced.
The two boys stood in a combination of sexual desire for each other, and a feeling of shame about it, which reddened each of them.
"We should make sure," Don said, smiling, and motioning the four of them into the nearest privacy booth--many of which were scattered about the room.
Michael, Seth's adult, smiled knowingly as they all entered the little booth.
"All right, Jason," Don said, "we need to see if Seth really likes you. Pull down Seth's zipper and take out his penis."
The two boys gasped at this. Seth tensed considerably, but Jason felt an instinctive need to obey, and he tremblingly pulled the 17-year-old's zipper down, and began groping inside the poor boy's shorts for his penis.
"Ow!" Seth exclaimed, as Jason obviously hit a tender spot, with his careless exploration.
Eventually, Seth's seven inch, erect penis was exposed. Jason did seem to drool at that point.
"Well," Michael said to Jason, "what do you think, lad?"
"Think? Oh--um, it's um, it looks really nice."
"The point is, lad, that it's HARD. Hard because of you. This boy's penis is all stiff and swollen because of YOU, Jason! Now, get on your knees and put your hand on it!"
Jason obliged, and blushed all the more.
Seth was mortified.
"Well, THANK the boy," Don urged.
"Oh," Jason said, barely able to look up at Seth . . . "thanks for letting me, um, see your . . . your penis."
"No, no, lad! Thank him for getting hard and liking you."
"Oh, sorry, sir. Sorry Seth--um, thank you for liking me, and . . . um, getting hard for me."
"What do we have, two virgins, here?" Don asked, expecting a 'No' response.
When the two lads nodded in the affirmative, the adults gasped at their own good luck. Don feigned disgust at being in the presence of virgins, "Oh, Geezus!"
From this point on, each word spoken or task demanded of them from the adults, made the boys' complexion redder and redder, in face, neck, and body--until it appeared they would turn purple with embarrassment.
The two adults, Don and Michael, were beside themselves with their own unrelieved sexual needs, prompted by the presence of these two studly male specimens and their boyish, innocent behavior; general fascination, and the pure lustful entertainment these two blushing lads provided--while the boys were obviously humiliated and embarrassed beyond their capacity to endure it.
"Don," Michael said, "don't you think that Seth should test your boy out, as well?"
"Oh--yes," Don said, noting the impressive tent in Jason's shorts. "Seth, do the same to Jason."
Seth, trembling worse than Jason, fumbled his way through the command--lowered Jason's zipper and brought out his penis.
Jason was crestfallen because his own 6 1/2 inches seemed small, side by side with Seth's more athletic-looking member. It was even more embarrassing for Jason because he knew he had three years on Seth. The two boys stood, facing each other.
Your writing to me will mean more to me than you'll ever know. dom6789@hotmail.com
--Thank you,
Pete
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