Timothy and the Lion Boy

Timothy and the Lion Chapter 5

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Works of fiction are all fantasies about other people's lives. Those lives have their own trajectory of wants and needs, actions and reactions, hopes and despairs. Fiction allows us, the reader, to share their paths, vicariously, without personal consequence. We do not need to approve or disapprove of their actions because it is their lives. Our role is to bare witness and take what we find relevant to ourselves.

This story is intended for adults who like homotropic erotica. Erotica is more about the journey to sexual fulfillment than the event itself. All erotica is aimed for those 18 and older.

© 2020 Boethius Cell

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Timothy and the Lion Keeper--5 The Farm

Danny and I connected with Armand and Martin, who was Armond’s mostly boyfriend. Like Danny and I, they were not exclusive. Armand was a junior at De Paul majoring in hospitality, while Martin was to start Northeastern like me, but he was in the Explore Program, uncertain about a major, but he was leaning more toward environmental sciences or international affairs. We had already compared schedules and made a lunch date the first week of school. It would be nice knowing at least one person in the 12,000 students. That was more people than lived in the small town my grandparents call home.

To Danny’s disappointment neither Armand nor Martin enjoyed bondage or pain. That is not to say they were vanilla. They enjoyed group sex, orgies and gangbangs. Danny and I had a couple of romps with them and friends playing musical cock--like musical chairs except you needed to sit on a cock, pin the tail on the donkey--except the tail was the blindfolded man’s dick and the donkey was a designated hole. The most fun for the four of us was timed sex. For ten minutes each couple would fuck; when the timer sounded, like a wheel people would switch positions. The last one to blow was the winner. It was at one of Armand and Martin’s gatherings that I met Bruce and fell in lust.

We all had three days off at the same time and Armand convinced us to go to an exclusively gay male campground in Indiana, Cox’s Lake. Although we arrived midweek the place was active with horny men. Gabriel, Niels, and Ralph (a trouple), had our cabin ready, provided maps and guidelines, which were basically play safe and everything consensual. A happy hour would be at four and we were encouraged to attend. Danny, Martin and I being only eighteen were prime meat to an older crowd. The three of us giggled at the prospects of daddy sausage.

 The camp ground was about 500 acres of woods around a farmhouse, barn, bunk house, four cabins and campsites against a small lake. Me being a woose, we rented a cabin with two beds, sink, toilet and small refrigerator. The bathing was an out building having a large communal tub like a Japanese bathhouse, two open shower stalls, one  inside and one outside. Needless to say clothing was optional, but nudity the norm.

Once our bags were stored and valuables locked in the safe in the house, we trotted our naked butts out for a tour. I had been naked many times in Danny’s pool, but naked in nature was an unnerving experience. I worried about bees and wasps humping up my ass; mosquito bites on my prong; snakes and spiders in every branch ready to pounce like leopards. I stayed in the middle of our group.

Danny was ecstatic that the Barn had a playroom with benches, St. Andrew’s cross, shackles, chains and ropes. Behind the farmhouse was a small lake or large pond, depending upon your frame of reference. The lake had a large dock with a gazebo at the end, canoes, and a raft anchored towards the middle. A path wound around the lake with exercise stops, benches, and water fountains. Swathes of putting green grass dotted the pathway, each was different: one was bordered by roses, lavender, and lilac shrubs, another was edged with apple trees, now with large green fruit, a third had a massive rock formation with one flat slat tilted like a fallen alter, a fourth had a small waterfall the splashed into a shallow pond before slipping under a bridge to the lake. “Nice places for picnics,” I commented. Armand looked at me like I was stupid. At the fifth, I understood why. Under a massive maple tree, two men fucked, oblivious to us. “Nice places for sex too.” I said as I pulled the other three to the sixth place. The ground slanted at about a 20-30 degree angle down toward the lake. I threw my naked body on the soft green grass, the angle of the ground provided a spectacular view of the lake, farm and its environs. Above our heads was a massive granite boulder, oblong about 3 or 4 feet across and a good 5 feet high. About 3 feet up and center in the monolith was a round 3 inch hole that tricked a small stream of water. The water gathered in a small but deep basin before disappearing into the ground. The air felt fresh, green and floral. We threw ourselves on the ground to let the tension flow away.

My tension was rising as Danny was sucking me diligently. “What is that buzzing?” I asked.

“Bees,” Armand said as if the statement was self-evident. I pushed Danny off me and stood ready to run. Martin held me close. “They are more interested in the clover around us.” He laughed. “You were rolling in the clover.” I did not find the humor, but I decided to play tough and not run. It was obvious from the other that I would be the only one running. “Martin” Armand commanded, “I need to fuck you.” Martin was next to Armand immediately, a puppy to the dog dish. Armand, gently stroked Martin’s cock until it was suitably erect. “Stick your rod in that hole.” Armand pointed to the hole in the rock that trickles water. Martin, at first resisted the suggestion, but then tossed a nonchalant twist of the head and did so.

“Oh shit, this feels so good.” Martin gasped. “It has a little jet of water that hits the tip so right.” Armand stepped into the basin of water, finding the slope allowed him to adjust for his height and shoved into Martin. “Let me know when you are close.”

Danny and I enjoyed watching the two, but did not want to sate our needs yet. The adventure was just starting, and we wanted to build the pressure in our loins. Danny pointed to binoculars, like you see at observation decks at skyscrapers, on the opposite side of the path.  Danny and I strolled over. Danny looked through scanning the views. “Fucking nice.” He stopped scanning and beckoned me over to look. The binoculars were powerful and gave an enhanced view of three men on the raft in the midst of carnal endeavours. I move the binoculars toward the farm house: two men on the dock, one on his knees, the other standing, fine ass face me. I swung the binoculars toward the barn. The back door was open and the inside was very active with five or six men. It was hard to tell because people came in and out of view. I  moved so Danny could watch. Danny started stroking himself. I smiled as Danny began panting and the sound of the two rutting men behind me. “I’m goina to cum. I goina cum.” I heard Martin scream. “No you can't stop; I’m so close. Bastard.” Martin screamed even louder. I was sure that the sound carried across the lake. Shortly after, Martin and Armand were standing beside me. Martin in a very obvious sulk.

“Needed us worked up for later.” Armand casually said to me. Martin was worked up. He was so hard that his cock looked like a party balloon. Armand pulled Danny away from the binoculars. Martin took over. “The real thing is better, bud.” Armand consoled Danny. Armand pulled Martin away.

“Shit that was so fucking hot to watch.” Martin said as he fell into our walk. “Yeah” added Danny. His firm dick leading the way back to the farm.

Armand looked at me, “Eighteen and always horny, what am I going to do?”

“I’m eighteen too,” I smirked back and waggled my firm stick.

Armand laughed and pulled me into a side hug. “Yeah, but it does not do your thinking.”

Back at our cabin, we decided to shower, shave, and manscape our privates. The showers had douching wands, which we gratefully used. “All  fresh and ready to fuck.” announced Armand as we head to the main house for happy hour.

Happy hour was beer, wine and a surplus of cock. It seemed that many other young horny guys had the same idea as us to have one last blow out before the return to school. About two dozen guys, most naked milled around the large patio outside the farm house. Armand, handed us all beers. “Wasn’t sure what you wanted but they have four kegs with different types of beer and about five different types of wine, including sparkling.” Set on a scattering of tables were nibbles: cheeses, pig-in-a-blanket, assorted raw vegetables and seasonal fruits, chips, and many other party foods. I grabbed two plates and loaded them for our group. The crowd was friendly but mostly hung within their group of friends.

 “Guys, Guys,” bellowed a portly hairy man in leathers getting everyone’s attention. His deep voice on his short body made me grin; I thought Elmer Fudd. “Welcome to Cox’s Lake, Neils, Gabriel, and I, Ralph welcome the newcomers. Please raise your hands.” The four of us did, which was also about a third of the others. “This place was founded to allow gay men an opportunity to enjoy nature, comradery, and uninhibited sex.” The last elicited a chorus of hoots. “All sexual activities are allowed if it is consensual and does not cause permanent damage. The Barn is fully equiped with bondage and S and M equipment. Any equipment may be checked out. Neils,” Neils, a tall muscular dark haired man in joggers and a tank with the pallor of a vampire, raised his hand “is a nurse practitioner and a dom master. He supervises the Barn and its activities. He has the right to stop any action. As those who are into that scene know, a safe word is required. Ours is ‘poppycock’. I expect everyone to respect limits.” He paused to make sure everyone understood.

“Our slaves are here to assist you with any of our amenities.” Three young men wearing red cock cages, red nipples suctions, and red dog leashes, stepped next to Ralph. They were handsome men. “Slave 1.” A tall dark-skinned man stepped forward. “is an engineering student, is submissive, and loves to be double fucked.” Slave 1 turned around. His ass had a large bull’s eye. He spread his ass cheek to show a tight red hole. Several men hooted and whistled. He shook his ass. More louder catcalls. “Slave 2,” a short willowy blonde stepped forward and blushed red. “Slave 2 is still in training, so he requires a more gentle hand. He can deepthroat a 12 by 3 dildo with no gagging, his ass is up to the same. But he is insecure and timid.” Slave 2 blushed more and looked at the ground. “He is not into pain, so respect that. If you do not you will be removed from the property and banned from returning. He is our delicate lit major and poet. Romancing him makes him blossom.” Ralph waved Slave 2 back. “Slave 3 is our slut,” Slave 3 stepped forward, waved and grinned. He was mixed race, likely Hispanic, African and White and about 6’ 3”. He was solid muscles. “He is very versatile, likes to dom and sub. Loves pain and extreme action, but can be gentle and nurturing. He is working on his masters in counseling and we are trying to entice him to join our staff.” Slave 3 stepped back. “As you may have noticed, all our slaves are caged. The key is in their collar so you can unlock them, but when you are done you must relock them. It is part of their training.” Ralph looked over the crowd of horny men, smiling at what he saw. “One last thing before we do our ice breaker. All the slaves are college students, so gratuities are accepted for their services. Since they do not have pockets,” that prompted a laugh, any gratuities can be given at the office.” He paused while the slaves passed out a small envelope and marker to each person. “Please do not open the envelopes yet. Inside is a word. You are to mingle with each other. If you use the person’s word in a conversation you get a mark. At the end of thirty minutes the person with the most marks gets a prize.” What’s the prize,” someone yelled. Ralph laughed, “A trip to heaven. The three slaves for one hour.” That caused a stir of libedo and competition. “Open your envelope but do not share. If you share or prompt others, you will be eliminated.”

I opened my envelope and frowned. I noticed everyone else did too. “Pantywaister or Suckmyballs.” Ralph’s eyes sparkled with delight as he saw the reactions to the cards. “As you may have noticed, you have two choices of words.  Who ever says the first in any conversation earns a kiss.The second is an intimate request. You must complete the request if the person gives the correct word on your card. It must be exact. Close does not count.” Ralph chuckled, “If your card says ‘suck my toes’ and the person you are talking to uses it in his conversation, you must suck his toes. Then you exchange cards with him. You will have two minutes for each conversation before you will move to a new person. Change at the gong.” A loud gong vibrated in the air. “Oh, one more rule.” Ralph snickered, “If you cum, you are eliminated.” “Might be worth it if it’s a good blow job,” said a voice toward the center. Laughter. “Begin now.” Ralph yelled.

I started circulating trying to develop a systematic way to hit every man. The first dude was an older bear with just a leather harness. “Fuck me.” he said immediately. I laughed and shook my head no. “Worth a try.” We both laughed. His name was Horace, he liked BDSM. I mentioned Danny and pointed him out. I casually mentioned that I would like to bite his tits. That was not it. We both tried various options but no hits. The gong sounded; I moved on to a college twink. Dan, studying accounting, a connection but not the right words. Gong, moved on. The fourth guy, a thirty-something account executive, the conversation was all about sex, which seemed the best way to win. He mentioned how he would like me to suck his balls. I knelt and put both his jewels in my mouth and gently pulled and tongues. He moaned in delight. The gong sounded, I marked his arm and we exchanged cards. “Cumbag and Bitemynipples” As I was walked to the next person, it dawned on me that if I paid attention to other conversations and what happened, I might have an advantage. It worked, and I had three marks and now my card read “Fairy queen and Tongue my ass.”  After my eleventh or some other teen number of card changes, it was hard to count, was Bruce. He was about three inches taller than me, dark black hair to his shoulder, seductive grey-green eyes, and a smile,which showed his teeth, was like a lighthouse. He was totally shaved below the nose, except for a tuft just above his penis, which was long, curved and hooded. It was leaking when I had my time with him. He was starting Northwestern, like me, in accounting. He was here with his older brother and two of his brother’s friends as a coming out gift.

“Please lick my precum?” he asked. I gently lowed myself down to his crotch. My hand slid his skin back as my tongue found his leaking juices. Most of the time pre-cum is just a little salty and almost tasteless, but he had a hint of apples. Just as I found my rhythm the gong sounded. “Later.” We both said and exchanged cards.

After another ten or so guys, I had racked up a sizable number of hash marks. And had provided teases to balls, asses, dicks, nipples, necks, ass cheeks, inner thighs, belly buttons, and fingers. The slaves ran around with clipboards with our names, recording hashtags. My thirteen came in second.

I saw Bruce pushing through the crowd followed by three men, one looking like Bruce. “Hi Timothy,” Bruce said, giving me a hug. “This is my brother Bryant and his good friends Wayne and Les.” I shook their hands and introduced them to Armand and Martin. Danny was off talking to Horace,the bear I met first. The conversation was companionable, but Bryant kept eyeing me, appraising me.

“My kid brother said he liked the blow job you started,” Bryant said to me. “Like to finish it?” I looked at Bruce; his face expectant and excited. “I mean Bruce is not very experienced. I assume you are more so. I would like his first BJ with someone his age and whom he likes.” I accepted his reasoning and said I would be happy to because I liked Bruce too then hesitated. “You have a boyfriend?” Bryant asked. From the tone it was more curiosity than an impediment to having sex with his brother. I pointed to Danny and the bear, Horace’s hand was on Danny’s ass, one finger in his hole. Bryant chuckled, “A relationship of convenience?” I said I was eighteen, horny, and still exploring limits. Danny and I would both be starting college in a few weeks in different states. We agreed to not be monogamous, we were too young. “Good sound reasoning. Bruce, here, believes that he should save himself for true love. What a crock of bull shit. He is eighteen, like you, and needs to experience life before he decides to settle down.”

I concurrenced; Bruce blushed. “Me, I like to fuck and be fucked by lots of men, often at the same time.” He looked at Armand and Martin, who grinned back. Bryant, Wayne and Les grinned back at the two.

“So you into giving my little bro his blow job?” I looked at Bruce’s stiff woody and smiled affirmatively. “Great, go for it.”

“Here?” Bruce’s voice was tentative and shy as he looked at the crowd around him.

 “Sure, no one here gives a shit what you do in public.” I personally was not put off by the crowd but I was not sure about Bruce, but what the hell. When in Rome. I went to my knees and started kissing, caressing, and nibbling. Any hesitation Bruce had was lost in his moans. Encouraged, I worked his cock and balls, slid my mouth up and down his shaft, going deep and withdrawing to the edge. My tongue was licking, flicking and curling around his head and shaft. I glanced up, Bryant was at Bruce’s back holding him steady. Bryant winked at me in encouragement. Bruce was not in this world at the moment, lost in the physical sensations of my mouth and tongue.

Bruce’s moans turned into half-formed words and then into a chant “Coming, fuck, fuck coming, please  suck more coming, fuck fuck fuck.” He lunged into my mouth and I swallowed, using my tongue along his shaft to tickle his juices out. Bruce collapsed into his brother’s arms.

“Sensational job blowing my brother, both his dick and his mind. For a first experience I could not ask for better.” Bruce recovered a bit, but the smile on his face was still dreamy. “You fuck as well as you suck?” Bryant let Les hold Bruce. Martin and Armand both gave an enthusiastic yes. Bryant looked over toward Danny, who was now surrounded by leather bears. “Seems your boyfriend will be occupied tonight, mind if we hang out with you and your friends?” Both Armand and Martin liked the idea and moved next to Wayne and Les.

“Burgers and dogs are ready.” Ralph yelled

The seven of us stood and made our way to the grill. Bruce stood close to me, both needy for support in this very horny gay crowd and in lust. I shared his lust. We found a table and sat. Soon Danny, Horace and two other leather men joined us.

Danny sat quietly next to Horace. “I’m Horace.” He extended his hand. “And this is my good friend Chet and his boy Dog.” Chet was trim and in his mid-forties, while Dog was thin, lanky, and early twenties.

Chet extended his hand. Dog sat quietly looking at his plate, two plain burgers and a salad, no dressing. “Dog, where are your manners? I just introduced you, now shake hands like a civilized person.” Dog stood and shook hands with everyone. I noticed the collar and the heavy metal cock ring. Dog was hung and his balls hung too low to be natural.

Bruce stared at Dog and leaned against Bryant. “This is my kid brother.” Bryant said pushing Bruce more upright. “He just came out a few weeks ago. My buds and I thought he could get a good experience here. Timothy gave him his first blow job. Hoping he can teach my bro more.”

Horace laughed and looked at Bruce. “No one’s going to bite you.” then he smirked, “Unless you ask.” he laughed, Bruce cringed. “Dog here is new to the scene too, only three months. He’s my son. Not right to train your own son, so I gave him to Chet to train. He’s doing OK but needs to learn proper manners and how to be responsive to his masters.” Horace looked firmly at Timothy and then rubbed his chin. “You said that this boy,” Horace jerked a finger toward Danny, ‘is your boyfriend. Mind if I use him tonight to help train Dog?”

I looked at Danny, he smiled sheepishly at me. Damn, Horace considered me Danny’s master and was asking permission. “I am not so sure of that.” Danny frowned. Damn, Danny considered me his master. The implications flooded my mind, but as I thought back to the last few weeks, I was making decisions for him. “I have not totally trained him yet. But he is very compliant and does not mind a good beating.” Bruce’s face was in a panic. “But for training purposes sure.” Danny was grinning. “Just return him in one piece and no injuries that will leave scars.”

“That leaves things very open. You sure?” Chet asked, a little surprised by my open offer.

“He is eighteen, I know you will respect the safeword, and will practice safe sex, which is for everybody’s protection. Despite his age, he has had more rough sex than men twice his age. Just make sure he can walk back to me tomorrow at noon.”

“The walk may be bow legged.” Horace laughed. I laughed too. The rest of the meal was mundane conversations about the farm and its amenities, plans for college, Dog was starting automotive school. Horace believed in education and skills. Mechanics is what Dog wanted rather than college. We talked about sex and sexual preferences mostly, which had everyone hard.

When everyone was finished eating, Chet and Horace stood. “Boy,” Chet barked. “Clean up this table.” Dog quickly gathered all the paper plates, napkins and empty cups and disposed of them in a nearby trash can.  “Say goodnight to these men.” Dog gave a weak “Good night sirs.” Chet rolled his eyes. Dog put his arms behind his back and Chet put handcuffs on and then attached a leash to his collar.

Danny stood and put his hands behind his back. Horace cuffed, collared and leashed him too. “Now say thank you to Timothy for allowing you to play with us.

“Thank you Timothy.” Horace tensed as Danny used my name and not master. “I greatly appreciate this.” Danny was grinning broadly.

“I may stop by later tonight,” I said. “Just to check on how my boy is behaving.” Go with the flow I thought.

“You are more than welcome to join us. I would welcome your thoughts on how we proceed with training both boys.” Horace did a small bow of the head and led Danny off.

“You’re really Danny’s master?” Wayne choked out.

“Apparently as of now I am.” I laughed at the thought of me in control of Danny. “For Danny to fulfill his sexual fantasies, he needs someone dominant to his subservient role play. I fit because I am his boyfriend.”

“Aren’t you afraid they might hurt him.” Les looked at me and then Bryant.

“Danny hopes that they will. He loves very rough sex.”

“Do you?” Bryant was concerned for his brother and didn’t want his brother hurt.

“Parts of it are fun. Some of the bondage and the use of dildos I enjoy. The whips, paddles, and drinking piss.” Bruce blanched. “Are not my cup of tea.” I snickered “or pee.”

“Have you done any of the bondage things?” Les’s question was more of interest than revulsion.

“Yes,” I felt I should not lie. “I am still exploring my limits as a gay man. Brad, a friend of Danny’s and me, put me through 24 hours of pure hell.” I shuddered at what I endured. “I found my limits from Brad pushing them.” Armand and Martin were listening closely; they knew Danny was SM kinky but did not realize I had participated. “I’m eighteen and horny. I like sex. I like lots of sex. I like lots of sex with lots of men. You don’t go to a car lot without test driving many cars. I want to test drive a fleet of cars. I refuse to feel guilty for any of my sexual activities. I am young and need, no demand, to not let social inhibitions prevent me from following my curiosity. I am sure no gay man has not watched at least one BDSM video, out of curiosity, and had at least a partial erection at parts of it.”

“Aren’t you afraid of diseases?” Bruce asked; his eyes big as saucers.

“I’m not test driving a car with faulty brakes. I am careful. I get tested frequently. While the activities may be very kinky, I know and trust the few people I explore with. I don’t suck a cock or wave my ass just because a guy shows me his dick. I am the master of my own body and my desires. I decide how much control I give to others.”

I was startled by a smattering of applause from a few guys that gathered around our discussion. Niel, Ralph, Gabriel, the three slaves and four or five others clustered around our table. Gabriel turned to the slaves. “Slaves, this is what you need to learn. You are slaves now because you are not in control of yourselves and have given control to others.”

“Sir,” Slave 2 asked after obtaining permission from Ralph. “Do you think I am wrong to be a slave?”

“I assume it is your choice?” He nodded to my question. “I also assume that before you started you set limits.” He nodded again. “Do you trust your masters?” He smiled and nodded. “Are you liking the experience, not necessarily the requests made of your body.” He paused and then nodded. “Then you are in control.” He looked confused. “You have chosen to give your trust to someone else. If freely given, it is an act of courage and selflessness. You freely place your control into the hands of another. You not only give them your body but also your ego. It is a supreme gift that no master should abuse, If a master abuses the gift then he is not a master; he is just a bully.” I motioned Slave 2 to kneel on the ground next to me. “You are mine to use since that is the condition of your slavery.”

“Yes, sir.”

I reached and pinched his nipple very hard. “That was within my rights.”

“Yes, sir.”

I reached down and pulled his balls; he yelped in pain but did not move away. “That is permissible?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“If I asked you to fetch a beer, acceptable?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why are you allowing me to direct you?”

“A slave’s function is to service his master.”

I smiled at the rote answer. “I agree that your function is to serve your master and meet his physical, sexual, psychological needs.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If I asked you to roll in a pile of old broken glass, would you?”

Slave 2 looked at me and then at Ralph. “Yes, sir.”

“What would happen to you if you did as I requested?”

“I would have severe cuts and likely get an infection.”

“If that happened, would you be able to serve your master?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you see a problem? The first request results in not being able to perform any future requests. One does not beat a race horse to the point that it will never run. No, a good slave helps his master be a better stronger person, even if it is to refuse a request that will harm his master or his slave. A good master helps his slave become one mind with the master.”

“Sir, I just assumed that my role as a slave was to get the shit beat out of me.” He looked up at Ralph, Niels, and Gabriel. “I understand now to embrace my status, to take the abuse, name calling, the humiliation is to be a mirror to my master.” I had him rise. “This experience as a slave is temporary,” Slave 2 continued. “but by losing myself to serve my master, I can see him as he is without the filters of my ego. I think by the end of this internship I will be more attune to others and their needs.” He joined the other slaves.

Ralph walked over to me. “Timothy, right?” I nodded. “Thank you for helping Slave 2. I was worried that he was too timid to be a good slave. You have given him confidence and self-worth.” Ralph motioned Slave 2 over. “He is yours Timothy to use and share however you please until you leave.”

Slave 2 knelt at my side. “I am yours sir.” He kissed my feet with a smile.

All I could say was “Shit.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you; I’m horny and need wild sex.” Armand said breaking the tension. “Anyone up, and do mean up, for an orgy back to our cabin.” He rose and I, Martin, Bruce, Bryant, Les and Wayne followed. Slave 2 brought up the rear, walking proud and confident.

At our cabin, since everyone was already naked and phalluses at full mast,the question was not what to do but how to do it. Since it was a warm August night, I sent Slave 2 for blankets and pillows. Then sent him to Bryant’s sleeping area--he and his gang were staying in the bunkhouse--to retrieve more beverages and weed. While waiting for Slave 2 to return, prompted by Les and Wayne, I told them about the weekend at Brad’s and a few following evenings spent there. I took command by sitting in one of the three rocking chairs on the cabins expansive porch. Armand was in the second and Bryant was in the third rocking chair. Armand insisted that we play a game while I told my story. Everyone’s hands were on the person on both sides dick,  slowly stroking. First on to rub off loses and his ass is a cum dump. I glanced at Martin smiling. He wanted to lose. I barely got into one scene at Brad’s when Slave 2 returned with everything requested. He was out of breath from running. “Good boy,” I patted his head because he was bowed to the floor with his head on my bare feet. “Up boy. You did well so I'm going to reward you.” Slave 2 jumped up, cock cage bouncing. I led him over to a post supporting a roof to the porch, pulled his arms around the back of the post and cuffed him with the handcuffs Ralph gave me. I took a key from the back of his collar and unlocked his cage. His penis up pertly. It was a very nice appendage, long, a little thin and curved up slightly. I knelt and started blowing him. I could hear him gasp and whimper in pleasure. When he was close to coming, I stood up. “Slaves don’t come.” The look on his face was priceless: anger, frustration, then acceptance. “Guys, Slave 2 needs his dick worked tonight. So feel free to suck him or fuck him, but he is not to cum. If you cause him to lose his load, I will drag you down to the Barn and whip you.” I looked at the guys. “My advice is that if you don’t want to risk a paddling, don’t release the slave. Everyone agree with this game?”  Since no one declined, I said,  “Lets fuck. I want to be the middle of a sandwich.”

“Not so fast, Timothy,” Armand interrupted, “Finish your story first.” I sat back in the rocking chair with a beer and started another scene with Brad. Every so often Armand would yell switch and the guys would move around to jack off new partners.

Martin returned from licking Slave 2’s balls, “Guys, Slave 2 is not a very sexy name. We should rename him like ‘Slut’.” Pussy, Hole, Cunt, Boy and Cumface were offered.

“Not,” I said, “those are so common.” I looked over at Slave 2. He had ejaculate running down his face and chest. “He looks so fine covered in jizz.” Bruce suggested that as a name. “I like but I think we will call him ‘Slop’.” That earned a few nods of approval. “He will be covered in our slop and be eating anyone I offer him to. By the time I am done with him, he will look like he rolled in a pig pen of spunk.” I walked over to Slave 2, gently fisted his erection and slid a finger in his hole. I knew he heard our conversations, we were loud and boisterous. Three young men were walking by. “Boys. I have decided to rename our slave, would you like to christen him with your bottle of champagne.” The three looked at me like I asked them why the sky was red. “Take your dicks and spray him with splooge.”  They perked up. “You can use his ass or mouth to warm up but don’t cum in him. I want him covered by so much spunk that it is his second skin.” The three boys spit roasted Slop, rotating their positions in his holes. Soon Slop had three healthy loads running down his face, chest and coccyx into his crack. When they were done, I waved them on their way. “Thanks guys, comeback if you want to play with him some more.” A returned “sure will” and “damn yes”  faded from sound as they retreated.

I walked away from Slop grabbing Bruce’s lever. “Let’s fuck.” The orgy began. Bruce fucked me, then I Bruce. I was very gentle with Bruce because I was popping his cherry and wanted it to be special. At least as special as is possible within the hormones of group sex. I was the recipient and deliverer of several happy loads. Martin never moved from the railing of the porch; his ass enjoying a carousel of men riding up and down.

About midnight, the activity petered out, everyone mostly spent of spunk. Les was blowing Slop, who looked like he was caught is cum storm, pulled off Slop. A slight smile on his face. “Oops, I think he blew.” Les opened his mouth slightly and pushed his tongue forward, Slops cock saliva dripped out. Slop looked relieved and happy too. “I know the rules, and I broke them. Timothy needs to take me to the Barn and chastise me for violating his slave.” I uncuffed Slop and cuffed Les, who weakly struggled and complained.

“To the Barn” I yelled and we went off like villagers to the monster’s castle.

The Barn was not what I expected, all dark and dungeon. It was brightly light with smells of hay, clover, alfalfa and cum. It had three levels. The first level, with large open barn doors, had the stanchions for holding cows while milking, calf pens with fresh straw, and a room marked MILKING. Several of the stanchions had naked men held by collars at the neck, just like the cows. Each restrained man was either being whipped or serviced by dildos. In the three pens, one sub to a pen, the sub was being ridden like a pony, pissed on, or in the third eating clover and mooing while a man sat at a milking stool pulling on the cows cock. The milking room was just that. Two lounge chairs where the men were attached to a milking machine. The cum sucked out went to a large vat with a sign that said Pasteurized for Your Protection. The vat has a spigot and plastic glasses. Bryant poured a small glass for Bruce. He chugged it and smiled, with a small milk mustache. Les licked it off. I locked Slop in a stanchion. “I’ll be back in 45. Milk him and cum on him.” I announced as we left. Slop smiled.

The second floor was the hay loft. Part of the loft had bails of hay around tables where guys sat  either resting or observing. The action was more intense with fuck benches, St. Andrew’s crosses, and wall and beam chains. One guy was into a heavy whipping with a flocker; it was not Danny. I looked at Les. “You lost, pick your place to pay.” Les bounced from station to station, watched carefully all the action and chose a wall with four point restraints. I bound wrists and legs, chest to the wall. His perky white ass was a beacon for fun. I took a flogger, cane, 9 inch dildo and a large butt plug. “You ready Les.” He gave an enthusiastic yes. “You know the safe word.” Les nodded.  I took the flogger and whipped Les five times, not hard but enough for him to wince. I saw a Daddy watching. “Could you continue his training, I need to find my boy.” He grinned and eagerly stepped up. “Twenty more lashes with the flogger, five with the cane, then abuse his hole with the dildo until he ejaculates or 45 minutes. Then plug him. Les’s eyes were wide as I gave the directions to the burly man in charge of his discipline. Bruce, Bryant and Wayne opted to stay with Les. Armand and Martin went with me to the third level, the Pigeon Loft.

The Pigeon Loft was small, about a quarter of the size of the barn. I immediately spotted Chet and Horace sitting with Dog, who obviously was whipped. They waved me over.

“Danny’s over there.” Horace waved to gabled alcove and Danny, stretched hands and feet to the sides. His feet were barely touching the ground and his body was a fallen forest of red welts. “We’re letting Danny rest. We wanted to untie him to rest his pulled limbs, but he refused.” I could see Danny refusing. “As one Master to another, Danny has a serious problem of allowing others to perform unsafe abuse. He was going to allow, until I stepped in, a total stranger fuck him with a baseball bat. The whipping I stopped despite his begging for more. I am totally into bondage and masochism, but not when it can cause permanent damage. Danny does not seem to consider any consequences. Does he have self-image issues that he wants to damage himself?”

I thought about that. “No, I do not think it is self-image. I think it is a macho thing. ‘I can take anything you do to me because I am strong.’ Any punishment that a person can offer, he needs to prove he is tough enough to handle it.” I looked over at Danny, he smiled at me.

“Since he is your boy, you need to clamp down on this destructive behavior. Set rules with consequences.”

“I can’t.” Horace and Chet stared at me. “I am Danny’s boyfriend, but we do not have a master slave relationship.”

“What about his asking permission before he went with us?” Chet asked on the edge of hostility.

“For Danny that was role play. I’ve known Danny only a few months, we clicked and decided to be boyfriends.” I hastily added, “in a very open relationship. In a few weeks he heads to college in Michigan. Any influence I have now will be gone.” I suspected deep down that Danny’s interest in pain could lead to self-destructive behavior. “This whole scene is very new to me. A friend of Danny’s introduced me to bondage and pain. He said it was a crash course in less than 24 hours.” I quickly explained the regimine Brad subjected me to. “Most of it is just not me. I like control.”

“That is why Danny needs you.” Chet said. “That is why you are the master,” Hector added.

I saw what Chet and Hector were saying, but I did not know that I had the experience, time, or resources to curb Danny’s urges. Was it even my place to do so. “Brad intimated the same thing to me. That I needed to rein Danny in. But is it my place to do so. I’ve known him only a few months, and we both accept that our relationship may be only late adolescent hormones and not last even a year. We are both only eighteen. What you are asking frightens me because I don’t know how to control myself that well. How do I do it for another? Will he even want this kind of relationship with me?” I wanted to cry from frustration. Hector pulled me into a big bear hug; his leather harness firm in my cheek. This is what Danny needed; an older, kind man. “I wish a man like you could properly train Danny.” My voice cracked in a frantic plea.

“Sorry, but we live in Detroit. And Chet has my son to train.” Hector was apologetic. “Where is he going to school?”

“University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.”

“That’s less than an hour away.” Chet looked at Hector, edging forward, waiting.

Hector sighed. “Danny is really a nice kid, We like him. Ann Arbor is about an hour away.”

“Permission to speak, sir.” Dog raised his head toward Chet. “Granted.” “It would be very helpful to have someone to train with, sir. Like at the gym.”

“Boy’s got a good point.” Chet patted Dog on the head.

“Fine, but it cannot be 24/7, which is optimal for training. Chet and I will see if we can do a couple of weekends a month. There is bus service between the two cities that Danny can use.” Hector saw the relief in my eyes and gave me a devil smile. “Danny needs to agree too.” We cast a look at Danny. A thin man in tight leather pants and scuffed boots was holding a wicked studded paddle under Danny’s chin. “Back off man.” Hector yelled and we dash off to Danny’s side. “Need permission for the boy’s master before you touch.”

The man backed a half step back from Danny. “Don’t see no master around, and the fag is begging for it. Right fag.” Danny nodded, ignoring Hector and me.

I stepped forward. “This boy is mine and I am his master.” The man laughed. “No one touches him without my permission.” I moved in very close to his body; it stank of piss. He backed off; eyes on Danny calculating.

“This punk your master.” He looked right at Danny. It was a look meant to intimidate and frighten. I moved right up to Danny’s chest; he was not going to hurt Danny. Danny looked at the man with need. I yanked Danny’s balls. The pain brought Danny back to me. “So fag is this twink your master?”

Danny smiled at me and said, “yes  sir.”

The man moved in close to me and grabbed me by the throat. “Make a nice bookends for me to tame.” He brought the paddle to my face. I kicked him in the nuts, grabbing the paddle as he bent in pain.

Waving the paddle menacingly, I said with barely controlled anger “This boy is mine and you do not have permission to be near him.”

“You’re just a fag like that boy.’ He righted himself, but still in pain. “You don’t know how to properly train. Give him to me for three months, I’ll beat him and you…”

Hector stepped between us afraid I would use the paddle on his face. “You know man, you are right that this young man is very young to be a master, but he still stood up to you.” Hector almost laughed as the man’s face turned red. “But he is a smart master and knows his ignorance, so he has asked me and my friend,” Hector pointed to Chet. “He has asked us to help train his boy.” Hector moved chest to chest with the man. No that is not accurate since Hector was a broad muscular hairy chested man against a lank, pasty, twigs chest--no contest. The interloper gave a quick nod of the head, but the eyes were still on Danny, and left.

I rounded on Danny furious, “Why in hell would you ever consider letting the man touch you?”

“I know I could take the pain.”

“Yea, fuck yea, you take the pain and do permanent damage. His type would beat you bloody and then beat you more just because they like to .”

“As you say, I need to explore my limits.” He smirked at me to refute my own mantra.

I grabbed Danny’s hair, not too gently, pulling his face back to look directly into mine. “You are a fucking idiot. I am exploring my limits but that does not mean I do anything fucking stupid. I don’t pour gasoline on myself and then play with matches to see the limits of my coordination.” I kissed Danny vigorously on the mouth. “You are my boyfriend. I do not want you damaged so you are not able to fulfill that function. You said I am your master, so I now order you to think how any punishment will affect your ability to please me any way I want. You got that boy?” I pulled hard on Danny’s sack. Letting go of Danny’s hair, I said, “Hector and Chet have your until noon today. Obey them.” I handed the paddle to Hector. “I have friends waiting. Teach my boy his limits.” I started to leave and looked over my shoulder. “The red welts look good on you boy.” Danny beamed. Armand, Martin and I left that level with me knowing that Danny was in the care of a strict but caring master.

On the second level, Les was sitting on a bale of hay with three people around him, one the master I left him with. Les was all smiles when he saw us walk up. “From the smile, I can guess that you enjoyed yourself?”

“Your boy did well for never experiencing this kind of sex play. He took the whip without a murmur. Now the cane at the end was a challenge, but many men cry from the cane. He was completely and thoroughly fucked with the dildo and my pals.” The man gestured to the three other men around Les; they nodded. “Now he is plugged as requested.”

“I thank you…” I paused because I never was given a name. He supplied it. “I thank you Bull Dog for helping. I had a boy on the third level that needed personal attention.”

“Yes, sometimes they do.” Bull Dog nodded knowingly. “But it was our pleasure to help.” Bull Dog gave me a careful scrutiny. “If I may be bold, you seem a tad young to be a master to two boys.”

Martin’s sudden laugh made Bull Dog bristle as he thought there was some offense. I sat next to Les. “I must confess.” I looked at Bull Dog. “I’m eighteen and not a master. It is a role that has been thrust upon me; god knows why.”

“Timothy, right, Timothy, it is not age that determines a master; it is respect and obedience of others that make you one. You have the makings of a great master with training. I would be happy to train you.”

“You are the second person to make that offer. But I am off to college in a few weeks to be an accountant. Not that an accountant cannot be a master. From my experiences in this scene, I am not made for it.”

“If you are not totally committed to being a master, it is best you are not. You are making a good choice not to travel that path. But do you enjoy a casual dip in the whips, cuffs and chains?”

“Not so much the whips or chains. The cuffs can be fun. I do like to boss people around.” I grinned broadly realizing that was a true statement. “Les, where are Bruce, Bryant and Wayne?”

“Sir, they got bored just watching so they are on the first floor. I suspect Bruce is in a stanchion being gangbanged.”

“Les, let’s gather them up and head back to the cabin. I’m still very horny and need Bruce’s ass.” Les fell in behind me. “Thanks Bull Dog, hope to see you tomorrow for some pointers.” We went to the first level.

Slop was still in his stanchion, but now covered in piss and cum. “How you doing Slop?” I ask as I hit him hard on the bottom. He smiled as I released him. “Need to clean you up.” I saw a hose by the barn door. “Martin, if you would turn it on.” The water hit Slop and he screeched. It was well water and cold. I just smiled. “A good run will warm you up. Run to the cabin and have drinks ready for us.” Slop trotted off still dripping pellets of water.

When Martin, Armand, Bruce, Bryant, Wayne, Les and I ambiled onto the porch of our cabin, drinks were ready and Slop kneeling, head down. “Good boy,” I patted Slop’s head. “Did anyone allow you while you were in the Barn to cum?” He shook his head negative. “Must be pretty horny right now.” He looked up at me with a pleading grin. “How many guys played with your ass. Full disclosure is required.”

“Sir, six men played with my ass, one just fingering, one with a large dildo, three had penetration of which two ejaculated into condoms, and one ejaculated on my back and ass. Sir.”

“Very good. How many played with your penis and scrotum”

“Sir, eleven Sir. All played with my balls either squeezing or pulling.  Nine licked or sucked by balls. Eight sucked edging me. And I could not determine the number of hands on my genitals because five men were using me. Some of the touches could have been from the same men, sir.”

“Excellent. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes sir.” Slop frowned like a lost puppy. “Except I was never allowed to cum.”

“Bummer.” I ran my hand over Slop’s chest and down to the bass of his penis. “I feel very sorry for you and your unfulfilled balls. I think we need to do something about it.” I unlocked his wrists and relocked them around the porch column. “Guys, Slop is in sexual distress. We need to help him.” I knelt down and started a blow job. Slop cock, which never lost rigor, throbbed in my mouth. Pre-cum leaked over my tongue. I stood up leaving a whimpering dick behind. “Slop, who owns you?”

“You do sir.”

“Therefore I think it is only right that I am the one to finish you off. As your master you cum belongs to me.”

“Yes sir,” Slop was not sure where I was going, but he did not like the direction.

“Guys, his body is all yours to do as you like. But his ejaculate is mine, so be careful.” I stepped back, enjoying Slop being edged by all the guys. Armand proved the most creative using a feather to tickle his manhood. Seeing Slop about to collapse from all the attention, I moved in to administer the coup de grace. I uncuffed him and he sunk to the ground. “Thank you master.” His breath was weak and grasping.

“I’m tired and need my bed. Bruce would you like to spend the night with me.” Bruce looked to his brother, who pushed him in my direction. “Slop, you can sleep on the porch or in the cabin.” Wisely he chose inside. Since the inside of the cabin was basic: the two double bunk beds, a table and two small chairs, and a rod for hanging clothes, space was tight. I threw an extra pillow and blanket on the floor for Slop. Bruce and I took the upper bunch, since Armand arranged for the cabin. Thankfully, the bunk beds were securely fastened to the walls because the four of us had the beds a-rockin.

The sun was up well before my eyelids. The night was nippy and Bruce was warm and cuddly. Danny tended to toss, but Bruce just melted into me. I thought about Danny and I and Bruce and I. Danny was fun, adventurous and ass kicking in bed. Bruce was quiet to almost timid, funny, and satisfying in bed, like a comfortable pair of jeans. Ass kicking was exciting but comfortable was long term. Both, I realized, need a strong hand; each for different reasons. Did I want that in a relationship? But with Armand and Martin, Armand was the stronger force. My parents and Danny’s parents seem to be equal relationships, neither one stronger or weaker. Was that a function of time together, or was it the nature of gay relationships to have one partner stronger. Bruce moaned softly in his sleep and moved closer to me. My musing would need to wait. I nibbled on Bruce’s ear lobe. He giggled almost like a dove. I was horny. I heard Slop slip outside, the door softly closing. Armand and Martin were awake. I could feel the bed's rhythmic tremors. Bruce turned over to face me. “Please,” was all he said. And I did.

Bruce and I exited the cabin shortly after Martin and Armand. Slop was outside preparing breakfast on the grill that came with each cabin. Bryant, Wayne and Les were cuddled together and Armand and Martin were in one chair. “Morning guys. How’d everyone sleep.” Their eyes said little, but the smiles said they didn't care. “Anything on the agenda for today, besides sex?” I asked looking around.

“Sadly we need to head home early this afternoon,” said Bryant. Bruce pulled me closer to his side. “But we got the whole morning for wild sex.”

Armand looked at Martin. “We have a little project that needs help this morning.” Faces turned toward armand curious. “Martin here wants to set a new personal best.” Everyone waited. “He likes to get gang fucked. His personal best is fifteen, but we are shooting, or rather the guys are shoot into Martin, twenty loads.”  Wow was the general response. “I thought we would stage the event at the rock fountain on the other side of the lake in an hour after we finish breakfast.” Armand hugged Martin in obvious affection. “Need the boys stamina built up.”

Slop announced breakfast, serving me first, as was proper, was a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, fresh fruit, bread toasted on the grill, coffee and a bloody Mary with an oyster in the bottom. A looked at the drink. “Oysters are a great aphrodisiac,” he said, head bowed. “Not fresh oysters, canned smoked ones.”  We raised our glasses, after allowing Slop one too, “To friendship and great sex.” was the toast. The eggs were delicious, but then I was famished.

After a quick breakfast cleanup, Slop was sent to the main house to commander thirty condoms. The other guys went around spreading the word of a gangbang. I helped Armand prepare Martin. He was douched clean, lubed generously, and appropriately labeled on his ass in three tone script “FUCK PIG”.  We walked to the spot; Martin was giddy with excitement. Already a few guys had gathered when we arrived.

Martin stepped out of his sandals, smiling like a circus clown at the gathering crowd of men, inserted his penis into the fountains gap and laid his chest against the rock, recoiling at first from the surface’s chill. “Leches,” Armand said clearly in command and out to protect his boyfriend, “my boyfriend likes to be gang fucked. His personal best is 15.” Murmurs of amazement echoed through the crowd. “He wants to break that record and have 20 guys fuck him. I am not sure any ass can take that much pumping.” A few in the crowd winced at the number and voiced their discomfort. “There are rules for fuckee and the fucker’s safety.

1. You must be hard and ready to cum. Limpies will be rejected.
2. You must wear a condom, which I will take for the official tally.
3. If I say stop, you stop whether or not you got your rocks off.
4. You have 5 minutes to blow your wad. No cum too bad.
5. No returns for seconds.
6. I decide what order each guy has. Larger endowments will go last. This keeps fuckee’s ass tight for each of you.
7. After every five fucks, there will be a break.  The break will be between 5 and 20 minutes depending upon the condition of the fuckee’s ass.
8. I will be videoing the entire event. No faces, only the fucking. You object. Move on.

Any questions.” Armand waited as the now large crowd of super horny men. Armand squeezed a generous amount of silicon lube into Martin. Armand assured himself that Martin was ready. He was giddy ready. I was given the responsibility of taking the used condoms and laying them over the rock while Armand worked the crowd, dispensing condoms. “On your mark, get set, fuck.” The first man, tall, thin and ruddy with maybe a 5 incher, slammed into Martin. Martin groaned loudly but quickly turned to moans. Bruce was given charge of the stopwatch, Les recorded first name and times, and Bryant and Wayne were bodyguards. The man nutted in 2:57.3.  

After five dicks, Armand called a break. Martin sat in the shallow pool, the cold water soothing his rectum. Of the five, four filled their cock wallet. The one who didn’t was given a consolation blow job by one of the three self-designated fluffers. After ten, Armand broke for a longer time. Martin still looked fit. He drank water and ate a little. At thirteen, Martin had his first orgasm; white frothy jizz mixed with the slender waterfall. Fifteen came with Martin sitting longer in the pool. Ten guys remained, all nicely endowed and two massive. Armand checked Martin to make sure he was up to five more. Martin, with the help of Armand, struggled from his seat in the pool, water dripping from his ass like an open umbrella in a storm. Martin motioned to bring them on.  He bent to show his hole, red and puffy, and said seductively smiling at the remaining guy that he was open for business. At twenty, Armand wanted to stop but Martin refused. He did not want any man to leave without the opportunity.

“Twenty five. I did twenty five.” Martin chirped happily with exhaustion. While his ass looked well used, his chest and groin were severely abraded from being pummeled into the rock. Armand salved his aching hole and sprayed antiseptic pain killer on his chest. “Picture, picture,” Martin said dancing, awkwardly, with glee.

PICTURE: Martin grinning, tired, in front of the gray rock, hands out to side from bent elbows, like an Egyptian pharaoh. On both sides a dozen condoms plus one in Martin’s mouth, their spent  content oozing down.

“Let’s go back to the cabin.” Armand smiled at Martin--impressed, worried, and proud. Martin tooks a few steps and started to stumble. “Do we need to carry you?” Martin protested no, but we did, our triumphant hero.

At noon, Hector, Chet and Dog deposited Danny at our cabin. Literally deposited him. He could barely stand much less walk. His body was a mass of red marks, but no blood or broken skin. Laid out on the lower bunk, Danny mumbled a thank you sir. Outside on the porch, Hector said. “Returned as promised,” His eyes glinted and a smile half formed, “but not in the same condition.” I offered them beers, Hector and Chet agreed, but none for Dog. Since Martin’s folly, several guys dropped by to express thanks with beer, liquor and food. “Your boy,” Hector turned to me, “is a glutton for pain and submission. He does not set any limits for himself and that will leave him open for predatory masters to ruin him, body and mind.”

“I can talk to Danny, but as I said before, Danny is not my boy. We do not have that kind of relationship.” I knew what Hector was saying, but was at a loss what to do. At eighteen, what does one know except that your cock runs most of your life.

“You need to make him your boy if you like him at any level.” Hector was firm and forceful.

I was at a loss; I could not do it. “I can’t, I just can’t. That is not me. I can’t take responsibility for Danny.” I wanted to cry, but Hector’s eyes were cold. “I am not a master, don’t want to be a master. It’s not who I am.”

Hector’s eyes softened; he shook his head and looked down. “I understand. I’m sorry that I pushed this on you. You are right. You are not a master, but you are strong and sure of yourself.” He pursed his lips. “Pursue your limits, grow into yourself. Danny will need to find his own way.” He reached over to me and gave a very firm hug. Everyone sat in silence for too long. “Thanks for the beers. Time we head home. Chet has some serious training to do with Dog.” Hector reached out and patted Dog’s head, he was kneeling on the ground between Hector and Chet. “Dog is good, but he needs to show more respect to other masters and to obey readily, no hesitation.” Hector and Chet stood. Dog did too. “Did I tell you to stand, boy?” Chet yank the chain and Dog immediately went back to his knees. “See what I mean.” Hector laughed.

“Up boy!” Now Dog stood. “Good boy, now say goodby to these men.” Chet guided Dog around and he licked our hands. Gross.

“We’ll keep in contact.” Hector said as he was walking away. “Try to find Danny a good master soon. I’ll look too in the Detroit areas for when he is in school.”

“Thanks and drive safe.” I yelled and waved.

Martin claimed exhaustion and crawled into the bunk beside Danny. Armand and I looked at each other and then at Bruce, Bryant, Wayne, and Les. “Let’s go swimming.” The afternoon was spent in splashing, groping, and general horseplay. Slop sat on the dock minding towels and beer. By late afternoon. The four guys packed up to head home, after Bruce and I had a final romp in his ass. Bruce and I exchanged numbers and I said we would meet once school started.

Armand and I saw them off and walked back to the cabin where Martin was gingerly sitting nursing a beer. “Where you’ve been?” Martin asked.

“Swimming,” Armand grabbed a beer and sat next to Martin. “How is your hole and insides?”

“Thrumming,” Martin smiled, “like someone's playing a harp with a baseball bat. Hurts sometimes when I move just right, but mostly a pleasant pain.” He leaned over and put his head on Armand’s shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of me.” Slop looked at the two, envious.  

We went to the main house for cocktails and supper; Danny was still sleeping. I was alone, horny, the eighteen thing. I decided to go for a walk; the air was warm with a light wind, birds were bidding adieu to the day. I found a bench overlooking the lake where I could watch the setting sun ripple in the water. “You seem pensive?” came a soft voice. “Mind if I join you. This is the best place to watch the sunset.”

A young man about my age sat. In the looks department he was average with average endowment, with average smile. He sat next to me, not so close to invade personal space, but close enough to feel the heat of his body, when the wind allowed. “Do you come here often?” He slapped his naked thigh. “Now that is a very dumb question. We are not at some pick-up club.” He turned and smiled at me. “Are you enjoying yourself here?” The smile widened. “That is a better question.” I said yes, not particularly anxious to talk. “OK, the silent type.” He paused and shifted in his place on the bench, which allowed him to move a fraction closer to me. I kept my head facing the lake, but let a smile cross my lips. I was enjoying the seduction. “I’m Rodger. I’m from Maine. And I am a sex addict.” I turned to look at him wide eyed. “Knew that last would get your attention. I like sex. I like it very much, but I am not an addict. I am actually very particular with whom I indulge my libido.” I could not help but smile at his approach. I responded with my name and that I was eighteen and always horny. “That is a good start for any romp in the bed or bushes, depending upon how horny.” I laughed. He moved closer. “Would you like to go for a walk?” He stood up and extended his hand, which I accepted. He did not let go of my hand when I stood. And we talked and laughed while he continued to flirt. Accidentally or intentionally he often hip bumped me. I did it back.

We stopped by the rock where Martin showed his metal. “Told some guy was fucked here by 30 people this morning. I admire his stamina, but never with my ass will it happen. I like to be fucked and fuck multiple times, but with the same person.”

“It was only 25 people, and the guy is a friend of mine.”

“You kinky too?”

“Sometimes.” We continued walking. “I figure at eighteen how will I know what rocks my rocks until I try it.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” He moved and we bumped shoulders. “But curiosity is far better than being afraid to explore. We’d all be eating raw meat unless someone threw the first steak on the fire.” He moved his hand from mine and put it around my waist. The move was not tentative nor was it aggressive. I liked his solid confidence. “Me,” he continued. “I do not like to share in sex. You have a boyfriend?” I told him about Danny and our relationships. He pulled his hand away. “How does your boyfriend feel about this open relation?”

“Danny is the one that suggested it because we are off to college and who knows what happens then. We do not see ourselves in a long term commitment. We enjoy each other’s company, are sexually mostly compatible, and are usually horny.”

“Mostly compatible?”

“Danny is definitely into the leather BDSM scene.” I thought about what Hector said and gave an audible sigh.

“You do  not approve?”

“It is OK. I understand why some people enjoy it. But I really try to avoid pain. Danny now seeks out the pain.”

Rodger stopped walking and looked at me. “You are concerned for your friend.” I nodded. “That is commendable but each person has his or her own path to walk. You can try to advise but you cannot coerce. I can tell it pains you but it is his choice. It is his free will. And he ultimately must take responsibilities for his actions.” He pulled me into a chest to chest hug. “You are a good person Timothy. I am attracted to good people because there are enough assholes in the gay community.”

“Thanks, I needed this.” And I did, not just the words but his calm reassurance and physical presence. He smelled great too. I leaned into him and kissed him gently on the lips. He returned the kiss with more fire.

“I want to make love to you.”

“Please.” My heart flittered and fluttered. I wanted to share our bodies and share our souls.

“Come.” He took my hand and pulled me along at a brisk pace until he pulled me off the path into a cove among the trees. The ground was soft grass and the verge filled with flowers. There we made love. I thought Danny and I made love, but with Rodger it was more personal, intimate, sensuous, and intense. There was laughter, silliness, and passion. The orgasm was a culmination growing out of not need or want but sharing. It was an organic orgasm. I chuckled at that thought. I said goodbye to Rodger at the campground. We exchanged numbers, but he was a sophomore at Brown studying philosophy and mostly confined to New England.

I returned to the cabin to see Danny up in a chair looking like he was attacked by the Whomping Willow Tree. He was striped from head to toe with whip, cane, and flogging welts. “You look like you're in pain.” I commented as I sat next to him.

“Yea, no horseback riding for me.” He smiled but it looked like he hurt when he did.

“Did you have fun?”

“Yes,” He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable in any position. “I took everything they gave me. I was tougher than them.”

“It is not a challenge to show how tough you are. Someday you will meet someone that has no concern for your well being and they will permanently damage you.” I knew Danny would not believe this.

“Naw, I’m too tough and I am careful who I play with.” Again I knew that was not true, but refrained from commenting.

“I was going to fuck you two feet into the ground tonight, but I will wait until you heal.”

“No, you can fuck me. What is a little pain?”

“Danny, you are in nor condition, and I will not cause more for my pleasure. I…” I almost said I love you, but. “I am more considerate of your body than you are.” Silence ensued; Danny sulking.

Armand to break the tension said, “We need to leave about 10 in the morning tomorrow. I and Martin have work at three.”

“Good with me. I told Taf I would see him late tomorrow.” I was still meeting with Danny’s nephew once a week. We were discussing body image and being gay. He want sex, but he was only thirteen.

“Slop.” I called. He was dozing on the floor of the porch. He shot up eager. “Yes sir.” I took the collar off him and handed it to him. “I relinquish you back to your master. Thank you for your excellent service.”

“Sir, it has been my privilege to serve you.” Then he had an evil grin. “I do have one objection to how you treated me.” I stiffened concerned about any slight. “You never demanded sex. I wanted you to fuck me.” Armand, Martin and Danny, less so, laughed uproariously.

“Not too late to make amends” Armand was pushing me out of my chair.

“Here on the porch?” I cringed at the idea of display sex.

“Of course, Martin let 25 people plow him in public; you can at least do one.”

I looked at Slop. “Do you want it here on the porch.” He gave an eager yes. “Since you are no longer my slave, I cannot call you slop. What is your real name?”

“Gregorius, but I go by Greg.” He said while fondling my privates. I responded.

“You sure about this Greg.” I was wishful he would back out. He rolled a condom on me and presented his derriere.  “You need lube.” stalling. “No, as a slave I am always fully greased and ready. I plunged ahead, much to everyone's satisfaction: participants and observers.

The next day we left as scheduled. Armand, Martin and I were satisfied; I asked Martin if he would try to break his record with 25 or 40 guys. Martin groaned. “No way, my prostate is bruised and battered. I won’t be able to get fucked for at least a month. Some records need to stay.”

Danny was in exquisite pain. The three of us barely contained our humor listening to Danny moan and grunt as he tried to find a comfortable seating position in the car.

Only a few weeks of summer remained and Labor Day and the start of college. Danny was heading to Michigan with his parents, Labor Day, to get settled into the dorm, do freshman orientation, Tuesday, and start class on Thursday. Since I was living at home, I was attending freshman orientation on Tuesday, with classes also starting on Thursday. My life was as frantic as Danny’s so we saw little of each other. By little I mean less than we had; we fuck only two or three times those last two weeks. Bruce was emailing me almost daily; my sex life was not going to be a Sahara. I saw in those weeks Danny and I slipping apart as our paths diverged. We convince ourselves that the distance would strengthen us. We both knew that was a lie. But we persisted, hoping, that the lie was a lie.

Labor Day Saturday was the last weekend before Danny headed to Michigan for college. This was our last time together. Armand scored four VIP tickets to the North Coast Music Festival, an art and music event. Oddly, Danny asked that I wear an oversize shirt, loose pants with no underwear. Danny was always making strange requests. I complied.

The place was jamming, mostly with young guys in tanks and shorts. The VIP got us close to the stage, without being pressed like sardines, and beer,which Armand bought. The music was loud and throbbing: Nas & Damian Marley, Umphrey's McGee, The Disco Biscuits, Lupe Fiasco, Paul Van Dyk drove the crowd frantic. We danced like fools with each other and strangers. Darkness came and we were going strong, pumped on beer and weed. Dirty Dozen Brass Band were playing fierce. Danny snuggled up to my chest. I put my arms around him, playing lightly with his nipples. He ground his as into my crotch. I whispered, “Horny?” He reached back under my shirt, pulled my zipper down and extracted my cock. “Naughty boy.” I sighed into his ear, then nibbled on it. Danny’s one hand was stroking my cock hard; his other was under the back of his shirt. A zipper sounded and Danny’s lubed ass was against my prick. “Naughty, naughty boy. Want me to fuck you here?” Danny yelled to the band. “Drive it home.” and pumped a fist into the air. Armand and Martin looked at me and then Danny; our movements were off beat. They move to either side of us to hide the view. But soon ten guys surrounded us, moving to the beat of the music and us. I was the stamen to Danny’s anther at the center of honey bees made of hot, sweaty guys. Hands brushed casually over me and Danny. We danced languorously then frantic. I gave Danny my honey with a shout, “Yeah, fucking man.” A couple of performers on the stage looked toward the noise, saw us and with a grin and a tip of the head confirmed our little performance. I pulled out and wiped myself clean on the back of Danny’s shirt. Our set of groupies disbanded, some with comments on how hot it was or wishing they had the courage. During the next band we left. We went to Armand’s apartment and dosey-doed in his bed until late and exhausted. Sunday Danny and I need to spend time with family. That night Danny and I had phone sex, which was both poignant and pathetic. I was not going to see Danny for a few months; he would not be home until Halloween. Danny was on his own.