"Sherlick Holmes and Dr. Watsuck, Part Two" by Jay Roberts
Gay Celebrity
Holmes instructed the young George to sit on the chair opposite him and at last tell us the reason for his visit.
After several stuttered and gargled beginnings to said, "I was brought up in the London Work House having been delivered there by my mother shortly after being born. There is no record of my real name or ancestry. The masters of the place became my substitute parentis."
Then he paused, unsure as to offering the following information. "It would have been a loveless and sterile life save for my companion from a very early age, Chauncey. We shared the same bed and he helped dress the wounds from our beatings and generally loved each other to an extreme."
"Ah," said Holmes, pressing his palms together. "He was a comely boy, of course."
"Why yes, that is a fact, though I cannot imagine how you divined that."
"Only that beauty seeks beauty."
George blushed, even to his well shaped ears but bravely continued. "His beauty was sometimes too brilliant to bear looking at. He had a profusion of curly blond hair. Below a pixyish face that was set in constant amusement. His perfectly formed, pale white body was superb. But to return to the harsh realities of the work house, I must say the beatings were not as difficult to bear as they were followed by sweet Chauncey's ministrations of soothing balm. But I must confess, the beatings themselves were not entirely unwelcome."
Holmes and I sat up in our chairs as this admission stirred us. We also did not fail to see the brightening of the lad's eyes as he recounted the punishment, nor the quick gesture to cover his short blunt prick hardening in his thin trousers.
Holmes whispered to me behind his covering hand. "He's a soft boy who liked domination and pain."
I noted. "Sherl, shall I request a demonstration?"
"Yes, it certainly seems appropriate to our investigation."
I called to the boy, "Lower your trousers and lie on the great detective's bony lap and we shall see if your claims of enjoying the spank is an honest statement."
The change on George's face was truly amazing. It was relaxed, almost childlike yet supremely happy as he lisped "Yesth thir." This speech pattern revealing a recession to a younger age. I thought it delightful and found my prick did as well.
In a moment the worn but clean trousers were lowered over his rump, again revealing those powerful and fuzzy-haired calves. He lay over Holmes legs.
George's perfectly formed pear halves were smooth as fine china yet fuzzy with light colored decorative hair. Between the muscular cheeks one could glimpse his arse track with its own growth of the same colored hair. At the midst of that patch lay his hairless pucker and beyond...perhaps heaven!
Holmes lifted his hand and let it fall heavily on the boy's arse check. There was no reaction from George. "Is that the best you can do, sir? I am not fine china, do bring more intensity to your effort."
Meanwhile I had removed my own trousers and stood close to Holmes let, slowly stimulating my sex. I jumped a bit as Holmes, who was a very strong person, slammed his palm down on the right check of the boy.
George grunted loudly as Holmes and I saw the red pattern of the detective's hand imprinted accurately on the boyish flesh. Holmes and I signed with growing passion. "Again sir, and this time do not be so gentle."
To end this challenging attitude both Holmes and I delivered heavy slaps, perhaps ten or more on the hapless boy. He howled and bawled and cried out with a mixture of pleasure and pain, the perfect duo in sought.
My own sexual organ had become rigid and pulsing and at the last volley I spewed heavily a stream of male essence landing in a spray on Holmes right trouser leg. In the meantime, George's arse began a rapid up and down motion as he delivered youthful, copious quantities of his boy milk. This landed on Holmes left leg.
Holmes himself cried out that he was pumping great quantities against the inside of his trousers.
When we three were quieter, Holmes announced that our sexual activity might require hiring a cleaning person, for the desk, his serge trousers, both legs and the interior.
"But it was worth it," he said, reaching for his large pipe and the tobacco in the Turkish slipper;
When the evil smelling concoction was at full fire he leaned back and said, "I say we hire a carriage and take ourselves to the Work House and engage George and his friend Chauncey to complete the telling of his story, the one that brought him to me.
End Part Two