Ogedei's Boy - Chapter Three by Ant-Boy@Hotmail.co.uk
"When rape is inevitable, you may as well lie back and enjoy it" Anthony Thomas
That night I was quite comprehensively raped, no not physically, My body wasn't ready for that though they could have done so if they'd wanted to and I would have made no effort to stop them. No, it was my mind that got so gently but so thoroughly fucked with; inhibiting preconceptions that were starting to settle in my thoughts regarding my sexual leanings were virtually demolished under the assault on my senses that occurred.
What that night showed me, what it taught me, was, in effect, free will. My free will, to choose to do what I wanted with my body, to realise that by so doing I could also allow others to obtain enjoyment from it. That by allowing others to have power over my body, to influence its reactions, that I could receive pleasure from their enjoyment, as well as from my own heightened sexual response.
Of course such deep thoughts were far from my mind as hands pressed my body back down on the lawn, there always seemed to be a pair of hands holding my head and offering a sweet smelling mouth to be kissed, fingers and teeth playing with my nipples, inside my thighs, even my dirty feet were being fondled. It all added up to an indescribable, intolerable, incredible, overwhelming sexual awareness.
I felt, could almost see, streams of lightning flowing up and down inside me, I was burning from the inside out, surely they could see it, could feel it, I just had to fly.
Some years later my Master would often bring me to this state, and then take me far beyond it as a matter of course. But before he was able to induce that state in me, as he could later just by a word or even a glance, he had to get inside my mind. In fact he had to get in there and break me, break me painfully, physically and emotionally, more than once, before there remained pieces he could pick up and lovingly repair, to make me whole again as I was this night. He had to exorcise the remnant of a destructive relationship I'd been through and not realised still effected me.
One of the recollections that helped me through those painful weeks was this night when I surrendered my body to a group, who for some reason I trusted implicitly, who had every intention of enjoying themselves with my body but never betrayed that unsaid trust I laid upon them.
But right then, I'd come to the boil, was in fact boiling over and when someone's hand pulled lightly on my balls I lost it. `Squeeze them,' I yelled, and then almost broke my back when in response to my shout I received what I'd asked for, subconsciously knew I needed, and lunged from the ground as my aching cock released a fantastically exhilarating stream after stream of hot cum without anyone actually touching it. It was a incredible feeling, I'd never applied more than mild discomfort to my balls myself but that slight pain opened up another can of worms for me, though yet again, it was to be a while before I realised the fact.
Opening my eyes to look around, this time more carefully, while I regained my breath and half automatically feed myself from the splattered residue still running down my cock and laying across my chest and stomach, I saw the crowd surrounding me was smaller than previously thought. In fact there were only two bodies that had not been present the other afternoon. Apart from the cook, the house boy had been joined by his two older brothers who I'd seen about a few times when my Aunt and Uncle entertained. Even so, that made it six young naked coloured men all in a state of arousal and one white boy who just been satisfied most thoroughly by them. What else would they do to me? I just wanted them to feel as good with me as I did with them. These were feeling I didn't really understand, had no time to even consider possible outcomes from, just knew that was how it should be.
As I rolled over and prepared to rise hands prevented me once again and turned me back to lay face up on the ground. There was a short conversation I had no understanding of and the house boy knelt by my head to explain, probably because he did have the best English of them all.
Cook says please not to move. You not need do anything, we all have play like usual and watch you, watch white boy please. Cook says you not,' he got stuck there and there was more conversation. He continued, Cook says you not know like we do. Maybe next year, `and he grinned like mad, smiling from ear to ear, with that last sentence.
Looking up at the obviously straining cocks being handled by various hands as their owners stood round me, in one case being service by a kneeling house boy I gestured, `What about these then?' More conversation followed, some of it questions I could tell from the change of tone.
Hands pointed to the trees and one wiped itself down my leg and held the result out to the cook to lick. He said something, one word, and received quick short responses from the others.
We feed you,' the boy made signs of masturbating over me, maybe we wash you after,' he signed holding his cock still over mine, `then more. Yes?' Feed me? That I understood as shooting over me, I got that half right. Wash me? Did he mean they would piss over my cock and balls? I started to get another erection just thinking about that possibility. More? I certainly wanted more.
Yes. Oh yes,' I grinned back up at them and nodded my head. Yes please.' I have no idea who, if anyone, actually orchestrated the next couple of hours, just that there seemed to be a never ending supply of coloured hands to fondle and pull at my body, cocks being wanked and sucked all around me that were more than happy to unload over my willing pale flesh, I was in sensory overload. It seemed that all they wanted to do was see me, touch me, watch me; I was allowed to do virtually nothing as they used my body for their pleasure.
Each time one of them shot a stream of man juice over my willing flesh someone would use their hand to gather it and then wipe their hands over my face allowing me to clean their hands with my tongue. In the course of that night I tasted them all at least twice, all a little bit different but with an underlying similarity I couldn't pursue, not having the experience to know it was due to diet.
I also, just once, finally managed to get my mouth round someone's cock, for the first time in my life I took someone's penis in my mouth and like the kissing earlier it just seemed so natural, not dirty or bad or any of the other derogative comments I could foresee if It came out at school what I'd been up to in my holidays. It just seemed to fit exactly as if made to measure.
I had yet to learn the difference between a young teenager's cock and that of a full grown man which could, would, choke and bruise me as it hammered its way past my tonsils. It just felt, right there and then, this was what my mouth was made for, what my taste buds were searching for, what I craved.
I'd been half resting under the influence of hands and mouths making love to my body but was nearly recovered it seemed, the stirrings in my groin were becoming more pronounced and my cock was starting to flop back and forth as it refilled with blood and my ball sac tightened. That's when I felt it, a tongue lapping at my groin, lifting my equipment out of the way, and then taking first one, then the other ball into his mouth to suck and pull. When I raised my head I saw one of the house boys' brothers lying between my legs, his eyes closed and a look of contentment on his face. While I was looking the cook knelt over the lads' backside, spat in one hand, used it to lube his cock, and without much delay sank his weapon deep inside the lads arse. There was little, if any, change in the tongued ministrations being applied to my groin until the house boy himself came to stand aside my waist, his pert black backside just a couple of feet from my staring eyes.
Of course I freed my arms from the other bodies still surrounding mine and raised them to place my hands, one on each perfect warm quivering globe. Surprisingly I felt no interest in penetrating his thighs myself but I did want to feel them between my hands as I had earlier with the garden boy when I kissed him. This time I could concentrate more on what my hands felt as for once my mouth was free and I didn't have the distraction of kissing all those beautiful smiling happy sexually charged faces. I was aware of his body's response as my hands fondled and squeezed his firm smooth buttocks. How could they be so firm yet feel so soft? Whatever, I liked the way they felt under my hands, the way they quivered; being aware I was giving him pleasure.
He half turned and placing one hand over mine pulled it away from his body and half whispered wait a moment.' Turning back to show me his backside again I saw his skin tighten, his arse cheeks suck inwards, then fill out again as he relaxed and to my surprise and excitement started emptying his bladder over my cock and balls, and of course his bothers face as that lad continued to lick and suck at my thighs and groin, occasionally at my balls, now licking at his brothers piss. I put one hand up to touch his leg, Stop.' He turned fully, now standing over me with his dripping cock facing toward me. `You don't like?' he queried.
I motioned him to kneel astride my stomach. I like very much. I want to see better.' You want I do here?' he asked, a massive grin spreading from ear to ear, I've got plenty much.' Yes do here,' my grammar was getting as bad as theirs. Who cared? As long as they understood me it didn't matter.
Later I would be pissed on, in, over, and washed with more times than I can possibly remember but I will always remember that time, like the first time I got fucked or the first time a beating made me really fly. That night everything was so innocent, so natural so erotic and, a fantasy come true. I watched the slit at the end of his dark prick open slightly to show a surprising pink interior as he clenched his legs against my stomach and allowed the flow to resume. The pressure had dropped but not the volume and I watched, almost dazed, as his hot stream flowed out over my chest, up to my neck and splashing my face. I put my hand down through the flow and held him loosely to feel the vibration through the wall of his cock.
This was something so raunchy I didn't feel demeaned or in any way that I was being abused, this was part of having a prolonged sexual experience. I'd seen plenty of other boys pissing at school, even been pissed on a couple of years back when we'd learnt in class that in Elizabethan days it was considered that piss poured into a sword cut would stop infection.
Being boys of course we all had to indulge after games to make sure any little cuts or bruises healed, it only lasted a couple of weeks and we found something else to occupy ourselves, probably which house would win the cup that term. This was a different kettle of fish entirely.
My eyes were locked on almost rigidly on his uncut cock, the lighter coloured head pulsing as he pulled the foreskin back, the tight scrunched up ball sac, the faint scattering of curly hairs so faint as to hardly show in the moonlight and his glistening taught stomach heaving rapidly in and out as he caught his breath. I had to try, I had to taste, and I knew what I wanted.
Moving my hands I placed them in the small of his back and slowly slid his light body toward my face finding it easy to move on my wet skin which had also been anointed by a least one more load of man juice while I'd been so engrossed watching his flow. Just as I got him a matter of inches from my face I had to stop and allow my head to rest back on the grass, my neck was aching from holding my head up for so long.
`Master don't need,' he told me.
Yes he do need to I thought to myself. `Neck ache,' I replied.
He said something to the others and in a moment my head was lifted and a waterproof cushion from the poolside slid under to support me. Now I could see clearly the object of my desire, I could even smell it. Only an inch from my opening mouth, still dripping slightly, I placed one hand on the shaft to guide him through my lips, the other behind his back to encourage him closer, closer, as his cock slid into my mouth like a car into a garage knowing it was home.
Oh! It was glorious. I doubt that I was very good; in fact considering the lessons Paul had to give me later I was probably almost useless. He, and the rapt audience I discovered when finally opening my eyes, were probably getting off as much seeing the white boy with a black cock in his mouth as anything else. But then again, he wasn't very big, about four inches flaccid and not that much larger when aroused and he fitted my virgin mouth beautifully.
That first taste I never quite came across again, not because I ever became blasé about the cocks that used my mouth but I suppose, like everything else, the first one always tastes the best. In this case a mixture of his earlier ejaculation and a little piss, clean sweat on a clean cock, and of course his youth. He was really only a boy, at fifteen a year younger than myself and after that night I never found myself attracted to boys, I somehow knew I needed, even craved, men. But for my first occasion he, like his companions, not pushing me further than I was ready for but still treating me almost as an equal, they were the ideal introduction to man on man sex.
[The author is always more than happy to receive compliments, sugestions and even complaints from any possible public. He will reply to all except flames.]