Tales of Hampton Wick (Part 9: The End) (T/b M/b B/b Spank Bond)

The youths lent nonchalantly against the tree very aware of the shorter,
blonder, figure approaching along the track but, neither paid the slightest
bit of attention until the boy had wandered past them, circled the tree and
come to a halt by their sides.

 "Hello!" Scotty said nervously. "What you doing?"

 "Not much," Danny replied, "You?"

 "Not really. I was looking for my brother, Chris, but I can't find him
anywhere."

 Kai spoke next, "Why you want brother?"

 "Just wanted to warn him his boss was after him, that's all." he shrugged,
"But, he'll find out soon enough."

 "Then, you come with us, yes/no?"

 Scotty's ears pricked up, "Why? Where you going?"

 "Home," said Danny, "To look at some dirty books."

 "Really?"

 "You come, no!"

 Despite the strange structuring of the sentence Scotty agreed and soon the
two larger boys and their smaller friend entered the bedroom only vacated a
short while previously. Invited to sit, Scotty choose one of the beds while
Kai took the other while Danny handed Kai's book of drawings to the visitor.

 For several minutes the youths watched Scotty flick through the pages until
he came to a pencil sketch of a scalped boy on his knees, sucking a Hitler
Youth while others waited in line rubbing the crutch of their pressed
shorts. It was Kai who asked the question, "You like no?"

 "It's nice but," Scotty said suddenly flicking pages back, "I prefer this."

 The choice surprised the youths. "Why?" Danny asked.

 "They're enjoying themselves. Least that's what it looks like." He looked
up, a slight blush spreading over his face, and found Kai smiling.

 "We did enjoy. That Udo Hoffman, he good friend to me. Help me escape Nazi
pig-dogs. I draw us kiss goodbye."

 Scotty didn't understand, "But he's in uniform."

 "Yah, Herr Hoffman big Nazi, make Udo join. Still he help me."

 With his cousin looking set to burst into tears at any moment it fell to
Danny to put the conversation back onto the right tracks. "Do you like
kissing boys, Scotty?" he asked.

 Blushing intensely, the boy nodded. Gently he allowed Danny to remove the
papers from his hands and embrace his shoulders, his own arm curled around
the youth's back.

 "Do you want to kiss me?"

 Before the question had even left Danny's lips, Scotty Armstrong had turned
his face and planted his lips firmly in place over the reformed red-head's.
A gentle tug on the back of his head had him moving his mouth clear a few
seconds later but, not in rejection as he feared, rather for a brief period
of tongue wrestling in the open space between their mouths.

 Kai watched his cousin make oral love to the blond boy and forgot his own
unhappy memories in preference for a bit of stripping. Careful not to
dislodge the passionate partners, he slipped free the hooks on Scotty's
dungarees and began to work the thick material down the boy's legs, only
they wouldn't pass his bottom. Eventually there was nothing for it but to
give a sharp yank, dislodging Scotty's rear almost onto the floor.

 Recovered, almost instantly, Scotty hunched his hips and his trousers
vanished to be replaced by a dark skinned hand pulling the front of his
underpants down and the tails of his shirt up. He sighed as the hand gripped
his six inches by the root and flopped back onto the bed as the
corresponding youth leaned across his knees and plunge the end into his
mouth.

 Scotty watched Kai suck his cock for only a couple of seconds before Danny
once more had their faces pressed together on the mattress. As he sucked and
chewed upon the youth's tongue he could feel his length sliding in and out
of the practised mouth, the tip of Kai's nose tickling his pubes with every
downward stroke, even as he started to enlarge.

 Becoming breathless Danny called a temporary halt to the proceeding so they
could strip naked. It didn't take a minute before Scotty was back on the
bed, completely unclothed, with both youths working him over, fit to bust.
More comfortable than he had been scrunched against the wall, his legs had
been confidently spread over the bottom corner of the bed and it was here
than Kai knelt, Scotty's cock in his mouth, the boy's bollocks in his hands.
Danny, meanwhile, wasn't a slouch. He too, knelt on the floor and bent over
Scotty only he had nothing in particular in his mouth, instead he used the
broad chest, firm pecs, and large nipples as his playthings.

 There was little Scotty could do other than caress the red head of hair
nibbling on his tits and struggle not to cum while his prick was
alternatively rimmed and sucked from the base to the knob-end. The only
other part of him that moved being his abdomen and chest, the pair of them r
olling in and out, sucking in the breath deeply, savouring the scent of
excited boys that soon flooded the room.

 Soon, Kai had a leg on the bed, the knee-cap pressed into junction of the
boy's spread legs. This wasn't, as Scotty thought, an indication of what was
to follow, although it did have to do with Germanic pleasure. In his left
hand Kai guided and wanked the prick he fed upon whilst his right tried it's
best to recreate the same sensations on himself, tugging, fruitlessly on his
prick. Unfortunately, it appeared as Danny had already warn this out for no
matter what Kai id to himself, he couldn't raise a respectable erection.

 Not only breathless now, but also with an aching jaw, Danny spotted his
cousin's difficulty and, out of a sense of guilt, offered Kai the chance to
perform his most favourite trick and the reason the pair of them had invited
a third boy back to their bedroom.

 His head spinning from such sexual attention Scotty was a little confused
by the orders he was given but, he thought, if they returned the feelings
he'd undergone in the last fifteen minutes he would be happy to comply. By
the time all was ready, he was more than glad he had.

 Danny stood at the pillow end of the bed, directing the action taking place
below him. Between his feet the blond head lay twisted, attempting to peer
around the youth knelt over the low reaches of his torso. Kai, too stared at
the younger boy's face, but his attention was elsewhere along with his
hands. Reached behind and under himself he fingered his arsehole readying it
to be fucked. Two or three spit lubricated fingers, poking back and forth in
slow circles that opened the sphincter wide enough to receive the four inch
girth of Scotty's prick.

 The younger boy was now a more active partner than he had been before.
Spurned on by the sight of the solid teenaged body crouched over his
bollocks he'd circumnavigated the left flank with his right hand and held
his prick steady, only occasionally frigging it to moistened the end with
the pre-cum he produced by the bucket load.

 Once Kai had spread his buttocks with his hands and said he was ready
Scotty pulled the top of his prick to the hole, brought up his feet and
began to press upwards.

 Even with Kai's experienced fingers providing extra guidance it still took
several attempts before the angry looking knob-end slipped into the top
youth and then, only the glands made it. The reason for this had nothing to
do with the action of the two fucking boys, rather it was Danny who caused
the upset by stuffing his prick right the way down Kai's gullet. His arms
braced on the wall to his right and the chest-of-drawers to his left, he
hunched his hips, distracting the youth trying to impale himself.

 If anything Scotty was encouraged by the action being enacted above his
face. Still holding his own root he began to feed himself up the German's
arsehole until there wasn't any more room for him to hold onto. All six
inches of his prick swallowed by the hairy crack.

 Suddenly, upon feeling the depth of the implement, Kai's international
training took over. The first drop of his hips, caused Scotty to yelp and
snatch back his hand, but once that was done there was nothing to stop Kai
pounding the lower boy's prick in and out of his arsehole. Meanwhile, he
provided a service of equal skill and attention to his cousin until all four
of his lips were sliding back and to over great slabs of English prick.

 Unable to do anything else, Scotty and Danny's eyes closed and their heads
tilted back to the wall. Forced to maintain his own balance as the bed
bounced, Danny hunched his hips and held on while Scotty had the added bonus
of caressing his own, or Kai's, body. If he opened his eyes he'd look
directly upwards to where another shaft, such as he own, plunged in and out
of the groaning, occasionally, gagging, evacuee so, instead he stroking
bouncing limbs, or tweaking sweaty nipples.

 Without pausing, Kai moved the young teenager's hands to his buttocks,
using him to help support and control the fucking. Scotty not only did that
but began a counter-thrust of his own, rabidly bouncing his hips on the bed,
ramming his prick in and out of the clenching hole. Ignoring the German's
protests he used only one hand on the flexing rear to wank the bouncing
prick. Yet, even though he did all of this, his eyes remained closed, and
his head turned on the pillow, the arching eyebrows being the only
indication that something out of the ordinary was going on.

 The ravaging of his prick, mouth and arsehole rapidly became too much for
Kai and it took him by surprise. One moment he was happily bouncing and
cocksucking away, and the next his co-ordination was completely shot. The
prick fell from his mouth and he sat heavily on the prick in his arse while
his thick slab shot a line of cum right up the central divide between
Scotty's pecs and pointed nipples.

 Danny took immediate advantage of his cousin's lapse. While Kai recovered
his senses, Danny seized his prick and wanked it into a blur over the dark
skinned face that he soon splattered with cum. It clung to Kai's upper lip
even as his mouth dropped open. The second and third spirts missing all
obstacles to fire directly into his throat in which the remained of the
prick was soon stuffed. Danny held the youth by the back of his head in
order to keep the wildly twitching prick, deeply embedded until it was
completely drained.

 The slimy knob-end of Kai's prick dropped onto his belly and, it fell to
Scotty to complete the circle of cum. The first, largest, blobs to shoot
from Danny's prick mingled and meshed with the German seed upon his chest as
he finished what had been started another four or five deep thrust into the
deep weight seated on his prick being all if took for spunk to be Kai's back
passage and cement the friendship with the English forever more.



Chapter Forty-Nine:

"Someone's looking for you!" the little girl addressed the two farm-hands as
they walked back from the vegetable patch.

 "Who?" asked Chris.

 "Really big bloke. He looked pissed off."

 "Shit, Mr. Nelson." concluded Tommy, "He'll be after us."

 Chris looked a little less concerned, but he was far from smiling, "Now,
what we going to do?"

 "Maybe we could help?" the second girl said. "We know a suitable location
where you could hide."

 "You do?" the youths looked at each other.

 "Oh Yes. Up at the house. You'll be quite safe there."

 "Brilliant!" enthused Tommy, but Chris was more reluctant.

 "We don't even know you."

 "Soon fix that, I'm Geraldine," said the larger girl, "and she's Paige."

 "Tommy and Chris. How do you know about the house?"

 "My cousin lives there." explained Geraldine. "I know the place like the
back of my hand."

 "Brilliant," repeated Tommy. "Let's go."

 Turning to hide laughter Paige asked for the youths to follow her in a
circular path back towards the house and through a small door set into the
side of the brick-work.

 "Just to be sure we are not disturbed," Geraldine locked the door. The
youths hardly noticed. They were having a look around.

 "What's all this stuff?" Tommy asked fingering some of the stacked
furniture, odds and ends of chains and leather-work galore.

 "It is the equipment used in the olden days when the servants misbehaved
or, something like that." Geraldine added the last part as an after thought
upon seeing the look Chris gave her. The youth seemed about to say something
until he was interrupted.

 "Hay, look at this," Tommy said holding up the cuffs attached to a high
desk, "Fancy being chained to your school desk."

 "Fancy!" mumbled Chris as he examined a set of wooden blocks.

 "Want to try them?" suggested Geraldine.

 Tommy jumped at the chance despite his friend's reservations, "Shouldn't we
be at work now."

 "What's the point?" returned Tommy, "If Nelson is going to do us anyway we
might as well have some fun first?"

 "But what about Master Gerald?"

 "Oh don't worry about him," Geraldine said, "He won't be around for a while
yet."

 Ignoring the smaller girl's muffled giggles Tommy gave the go-ahead, stood
directly behind the desk, and snapped the cuffs fixed to chains and the
inclined surface onto his own wrists. The girls, helped, somewhat
reluctantly, by Chris, rotated the blackboard until it stood in front of the
single desk.

 "See," Taunted Tommy, "There's nothing to it."

 "There is," interrupted Geraldine before Chris could answer. Hooking up the
hem of her skirt she knelt at Tommy's feet and applied a second set of
chained cuffs to his ankles, so there were held tight to the front legs.

 "Do you want to try something Chris?"

 The youth looked at the little girl in the simple print dress that showed a
fairly familiar set of legs. Suddenly he was aware of his prick rising and
this confused him - it had never happened around a girl before - and he
bluffed his way out of the tight spot with the question, "What's this?"

 "It's an attention getter," put in Geraldine, coming over to stand beside
the waist high block of wood with the plank nailed across one side,
decorated cuffs similar to those securing Tommy, "Do you want to try it?"

 "I guess."

 "Okay, but you had better remove your shirt first."

 "Why?"

 "Mrs. Nelson would not like you rolling this dust, would she not?"

 Completely missing Geraldine's slip of the tongue, Chris watched the long,
slender finger drawn across the timber and examined the offered dust on its
tip before slipping out of what was, initial, an undershirt. Silently he
followed the orders issued from the soft, feminine mouth with the traces of
red around the lips. He lay upon the block with the plank under his naked
chest, his arms passed back under the plank were fastened into snug fitting
cuffs at the sides of the block.

 "This," he was shown an intricate weave of leather straps, "makes sure your
attention is, at all times, focused on the blackboard. Want to try it?"

 "Go on!" Tommy shouted.

 Chris nodded, "May as well."

 A strap circled his forehead. A second, at right angles to the first, went
under his chin and over his head. The last one, stretched from the back of
the web and clipped onto his belt. Quickly Geraldine adjusted it to the
correct length to pull the youth's head up, so he looked directly ahead of
himself.

 "Can we be teachers now?" asked Paige of the older girl.

 "If the boys have no objection?" They didn't. "Good. In that case you two
are to remain silent at all times unless spoken to. Is that understood?"

 The youths look at each other.

 "Is it?" Geraldine repeated with a bit more force.

 "Yes Miss." Tommy said.

 "I hope so for, if you are not, then the appropriate action will have to be
taken." Paige spoke up as Geraldine wrote upon the mobile blackboard. "You
will answer these sums correctly or else. You first, Tommy."

 "Twelve," the illiterate youth guessed.

 "Incorrect," snapped Geraldine - the only one who knew the answer - "You
have one more chance."

 "Twenty-seven and a bit."

 "Incorrect." At once Geraldine left the front of the improvised classroom
to open a wardrobe. Inside, as the doors swung back, was a full wrack of
corporal punishment implements hanging in order of severity. Geraldine
pondered over her selection for a few moments before choosing a simple whip
from lowest end of the range. Little more than a stick with four thongs
attached she took it from the hook and positioned himself behind the taut
buttocks. "Last chance." she offered.

 "One."

 The girl's arm flew downward, causing the leather to hiss and for Tommy to
give a little start. The expected blow never landed.

 "Again!"

 Thinking it to be another bluff, Tommy laughed, and repeated, "One!"

 "Insolent boy." yelled Geraldine "You are not taking this seriously but you
will."

 Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish! Swish!

 Six times Geraldine swung the whip into Tommy's arse. Five times the youth
gasped at the pain and once he yelled, "That hurts."

 "That is the intent."

 "But we're only playing?"

 "Are we?"

 Tommy was about to argue the point when Paige attacked his clothes,
detaching his braces so his trousers fell to the floor. Moments later his
undershorts joined them. "Hey!" he finally managed as his genitals brushed
the wooden edge of the desk.

 Swish!

 "Ouch!" The slap, as well as the following complaint, echoed around the
small room, over and over, gradually growing fainter.

 "Answer the question," Geraldine demanded.

 "What question?"

 Swish! Swish!

 "You will receive an extra stroke you every stalling tactic you employ."

 "But I..."

 Swish!

 "...don't..."

 Swish!

 "...understand."

 Swish!

 "The board Tommy. The board." yelled Chris frantically.

 Silence dropped whilst the farm-hand pondered the simple mathematics
clearly above the level of Hampton Village School.

 "Well," enquired Geraldine after a suitable period of time.

 "I can't!" the youth confessed.

 "Nonsense."

 "But I..."

 Swish!

 "Be quiet! You do not seem to be able to follow the simplest of
instructions. It is no wonder Mr. Nelson fumed so. You appear to have
nothing of value to say that could not come directly from here." Tommy
flinched away as the whip passed over his rear. "In fact it appears as if
you talk through your backside and that is something which must be stopped
forthwith."

 Paige is despatched to fetch a short, stubby, lump of rubber shaped into
something similar to a Baby's dummy only thicker and longer and gave it to
Geraldine. Still positioned at the bad boy's rear, the elder girl placed the
tip of the item into her mouth and kicked Tommy's legs to the full extent of
the chain, with the aid of the whip and her sandals. The wet rubber is then
pressed between several sets of thin, red marks across the teenager's
buttocks and against his sphincter. For several seconds Geraldine struggled
until, finally, Tommy had no option but to relax and allow the blunt object
to be trust deep into his bowels. The stopper slapping into his crack with a
sound every bit as evil as the one the whip had made upon his unprotected
flesh.

 "There," Geraldine said, massaging the skin surrounding the intrusion to
ensure removal wouldn't be simple. "that will give you something to think on
while Chris is taught a thing, or two."

 "Wait," Chris demanded, "this has gone far enough. A joke's a joke." He
struggled with his cuffs but couldn't move them. "Let us go!"

 "That is not possible."

 "Why the hell not?"

 "Because," Geraldine said coldly, "you were warned what would happen."

 Chris intensified his escape attempts

 "If I were you. I would be saving my energy for your punishment. Paige, if
you would be so kind."

 Little Paige wasted no time in shoving her hands beneath the squirming
youth and, somehow, relieved him of his braces. From there, it became a
simple matter for her to strip Chris from his trousers and underwear. All
the time the youth's attention taken by the fumbling in the wardrobe.

 "You are in desperate need." Geraldine said at last. "But we have the
perfect answer to the rebellious nature of boys such as yourself."

 Both Chris and Tommy gasped as the four foot reformatory birch swung
through the air, sending dust high into the tense atmosphere.

 "Let us see how brave you are after the rod has whispered into your ear.
Paige, take up the martinet, if you would be so kind."

 Crack!

 "AaaarrrghHHH!" Chris yelled. His hips, trust forward by the surprising
strength of the blow, rubbed his exposed knob-end, painfully against the
course timber.

 Crack!

 Swish!

 The girls set up a rhythm that complimented each other perfectly and filled
the basement room with an endless stream of hissing, displaced air, the
sting of chastisement and the groans of those chastised.

 Crack! Swish! Crack!

 Swish! Crack! Swish!

 Suddenly, when one would have assumed the boys were far beyond caring,
Paige spotted something that suggested they were not, and brought it to
Geraldine's attention.

 "Well, well." She said, "I do believe our work is done here."

 "It is?" the younger girl clandestinely scooped the largest of the sticky,
white drops into her perk, young lips.

 "Yes, it is." Geraldine confirmed, "We shall return to our Number One
objective and some costume degradation. If you would be so kind as to
assist, Paige?"

 It wasn't until they were halfway through the process that Paige understood
what was happening, which is more than could be said for Tommy. The youth
released from his ankle restraints and with his bunched up clothing removed,
was manoeuvred, semi-delirious from his beating, to a low table like the one
he'd been bent over in Mr. Nelson's office. His ankles bound together before
he was fastened, face down.

 Geraldine hooked up her black shirt one more time and cast a leg over the
helpless youth snuggling a hot, expanse of skin onto Tom's thighs. Her hand
fell on a small, two-inch square box. The lid flicked, she selected a small
silver item from inside which she held, with extreme caution, between her
thumb and forefinger before pushing the sharpened point of the pin into the
fleshy part of Tom's leg.

 "AaarrrghhhHH!" the youth screamed his head jerking upwards as a second pin
joined the first in his previously battered arse.

 "Can't we turn him over so we can see?" asked Paige once Tom's rear had
become the board for a strange game of pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey.

 Tommy's wrists were freed but he was no condition to do anything to help
himself in the short time the repositioning took. In no time at all he is
flat on his back with his arms strapped securely down to the table legs.
Once more he's unable to move or do anything until...

 "Hold his legs up Paige."

 "No please," Tommy begged, "No more. Please. I can't take no more."

 "And shut him up Paige. His whine grates my nerves."

 The smaller girl accomplished her secondary task by sitting on the youth's
face, her dress pulled up so the cloth of her knickers filled his mouth.
Leaning forwards she then completes the instructions by taking the raised
ankles and pulling back.

 Geraldine squatted in a most unladylike fashion with her knees protruding
phallically from under the hem of her skirt. No one noticed this, nor the
way the pins glinted as they are, once more, applied to Tom's birched and
battered buttocks. The flesh tensed whenever a steel point pricked them
although this could have been due to the way Geraldine squeezed the bollocks
overhang them. Above that, a solid tower, topped by a knob-end even redder
than the pinpricks decorating the curved rear, waved.

 "Only one thing for it." Geraldine announced, "It would appear as if my
original prognosis was correct all along."

 Tom's legs dropped, prompting a moan from his mouth as the tortured fleshed
struck the table top. He was then allowed to rest whilst Chris was turned
onto his back across the block, forming his back into a wrestler's bridge
that had him, to all intense and purposes, rested on his hands and feet,
only with his spine curved across the top of the block. The girls turned
their attention to the recovering Tommy.

 Carefully they released him from the desk and showed him what he looked
like in a broken mirror propped against the wall. His face and body, long,
slender and slim, marked only with signs of his restraint and punishment and
by the final few drops of spunk.

 By staring at his reflection Tommy failed to notice the collar until it
fastened around his throat. By then it was too late to prevent his arms from
being manhandled up into the leather cuffs attached to the sides of the
collar rendering him, helpless, once more.

 A high stool is placed behind him and, despite the pain, Tommy was
encouraged, by the martinet, to be seated upon it. A low groan escaped his
parched mouth as his full weight transferred to his buttocks, the
uncushioned seat and the butt-plug still buried deep in his bowels.

 Paige slid a pair of thin, silk stockings onto the youth's thin legs, the
down covering them causing more than one tear to the sheer material.
Meanwhile, Geraldine fastened corsets as tightly as she could around Tommy's
abdomen, lacing them so the youth would, forever give the impression of
breathing in. The flesh around his nipples mounded to form a developing
chest many a pubescent girl would have been proud off.

 One of the cuffs was released so an elbow length glove could be pulled on
and a set of restraints made their first appearance. Once the second glove
had been applied Tommy's arms were allowed to fall to his stomach where the
central, smaller, cuff could be more readily applied. The carefully moulded
steel fitted a treat around the teenager's bollocks and prick. Good and
tight, the place at his neck taken by a chain hanging him from the rafters
of Hampton House's ground floor.

 Once given the go-ahead Paige approached with a small piece of metal and
positioned it over Tommy's left nipple. A small screw turned until the tiny
jaws pinched the sensitive flesh. A second quickly followed on the right
nipple while the chain between them could be readily pulled, raising the
youth up at the slightest pressure.

 Inadvertently Tommy raised his hands to ease the pain from his tits but all
that did was jerk his bollocks and cause more of what he'd been intended to
cure. However, this action did result in an unexpected observation. There
was a lump at the front of Geraldine's skirt, and it wasn't a little lump
either. Finally, the nagging doubt that had always been in the back of his
mind made it all the way through to the front and, with a gasp, and tearing
eyes, he said, "You ain't a girl."

 Chris's head jerked up from the desk awaiting the outburst that would be
sure to follow such a stupid idea. Only there wasn't one.

 "True enough." the accused answered releasing the youth's neck.

 Tommy fall to his knees. It took a few minutes for him to recover enough to
continue but, Tommy thought it would be worth it, to clarify the situation.
After all he had to know his enemy before he could defeat her, or him!
"You're a boy?" he asked.

 "Might be."

 Tommy looked up, confused by the ambiguity of the statement, but he never
made it as far as Geraldine's face. Instead his gaze was captured by the
solid protuberance in the girl's skirt that could only have been a prick.
Slowly the cloth raised until five inches of pure boy sprung out. Tommy
recognised it from the blond strands around the base and the way it strained
to hug the slight, overhang of the belly.

 "Master Gerald?"

 "None other." Gerald laughed. "and my page?" The answer came from another
source.

 "Paul Nelson." Chris said.

 "Yes, Armstrong." scorned Gerald, "He's mine now, so you had better eat him
this last time."

 Paul, who'd been gently frigging himself, placed a foot upon the wooden
block, his hands on his hips as Chris scrambled forwards with his erection
leading the way. Lips closed over the swollen knob-end of the young boy's
glands. Dirt and tear stained cheeks hollowed as he turned up the suction.
Paul watching in the more as the brown, brush-cut head drinks on his groin,
never releasing more than half the length at any one time.

 Meanwhile, Gerald used a rubber pad fixed to a short stick to flay Tommy's
out stretched buttocks, with more than the occasional swipe at the low slung
bollocks.

 Not as well versed in sexual restraint as the others, Paul soon forced
Chris's barely prominent adam's apple to flex and swallowed the thin load
the over excited girl/boy produced.

 A hand on his forehead, sent Tommy backwards. He gasped as he landed on his
abused rear, trying to escape the pain from his metal encased bollocks, only
for more to be added. The clasp removed, his arms jerked back above his
head. A hook inserted into the open eyelet, pulled him towards the ceiling.
Forced to stand on shaky feet, Tommy awaits his fate with a roaring
erection.

 It was this Gerald gripped in his left hand until the knuckles turned
white. His fingers jerked, roughly, pulling skin and bollocks. In his right
hand, the whip flicked with each wanking motion, its leather tails easily
circumnavigating the apprentice's body to lash his arse until the youth is
brought to an extremely painful, and powerful, climax. The thick streams of
spunk shooting clear across the basement room to splatter his friend.

 "Dirty bastard!" laughed Paul, cleaning drops from his thigh. "Let's do the
rest now."

 Gerald agreed and released Tommy's wrists from the handing rope, preventing
either escape or collapse by the use of a single length of knotted leather
on the captive youth's groin. Again, Tommy backed towards the desk and bent
over it, backwards. A lash of the whip across his chest forced him to lower
an arm down each side of the block. His wrists clamped with a second strap
introduced across his stomach and buckled as firmly as the others.

 The whip cast aside Gerald strapped the youth's ankles into leather cuffs
then, in turn, to the ceiling rope. These are then pulled up into the air
until the sturdy, work-hardened limbs, stood upright. Then, after a
tightening of the nipple clamps, Gerald removed his skirt and blouse. His
prick pushed urgently against the pre-cum dampened, flimsy material of the
silk knickers which are soon discarded so it could rise to its full length.
He moved in.

 Taking hold of Tommy's already bound ankles Gerald's knob-end brushed
across the equally inflamed buttocks searching for the entrance laying open
in readiness. It pushed against the drawn up bollocks, tracing a line down
the soft, tender teenager's flesh until it felt foreign blocking its path.
Enraged by his own forgetfulness, Gerald ripped the butt-plug brutally, from
the arsehole.

 Tommy groaned loudly at the extraction but no heads turned in his
direction. Paul had turned Chris around and bent over in front of the still
chained boy, fucking himself on the six-and-a-half inches that protruded
from between the long, hairy, legs. His elbows turned outward from his own
body supported him as he sunk his hairless buttocks up and down the
helplessly secured and bewildered youth's prick. Over Chris's head he pulled
a black leather hood, that he'd firmly road tested. The phallus built into
the mouth piece giving Chris something to bite upon and try to hold back the
explosion the young boy's hot, clinging arsehole, tried to drag from his
bollocks.

 Dissatisfied by the prospect of easy entry, Gerald reached for a pot of Mr.
Nelson's tanning gel. This, he'd been previously informed, could tighten the
toughest of animals skins. He only hoped it would work as well on human
flesh. Dipping his fingers into the pot, Gerald quickly rammed one of them
deep into the groaning youth's arsehole.

 Tommy's body bulked, as much as it could, upon contact with the cold,
grease-like substance but there was little he could actually do to prevent
it from being spread into every nook and cranny of his rectum and lower
bowel by the slender aristocratic fingers.

 A second of Gerald's fingers entered the youth more by accident than
design. However, once he saw just how readily Tommy accepted the added
intrusion Gerald didn't see the point in removing it. In fact, he soon
discovered, that by pressing the duel digits all the way in he could cram
his thumb up against the base of Tommy's prick between the heavy bollocks.
Enjoying this sensation, and with the sphincter not clinging in the way he
thought it should, Gerald pulled back his hand, bunched all four fingers
together, and pushed them home.

 The bulk of the boy's hand inside his arse Tommy had a sudden, and
unexpected flashback to the preparation for one of the more memorable
orphanage orgies and being seated upon the Superintendent's rubber cosh
slotted into the outhouse seat. He'd thought his arsehole would never
stretch more than it had that night and although Mr. Nelson had come close,
it hadn't, until now.

 Again Gerald's fingers removed themselves from the youth's arsehole and
plunged, head-long, into the tub of tanning gel. Returning to the slickened
hole, the thumb remained bent inwards, turning the hand into an apparent
impression of the snake's head gracing the front of young Billy Nelson's
shorts. And sure enough, just like the reptile, it turned and twisted itself
 about the burrow it had found itself. Easily the tips of the clenched
fingers were accepted but when it came time for the thumb-nail to join them
there appeared to be a little resistance to be overcome. This Gerald did, in
the one way his Public school education had shown him. Using his free hand,
he whipped Tommy's arse.

 The first lash from the leather thong came as a complete surprise to Tommy
for he'd thought that part of the encounter to be over. Yet, this,
unexpected reaction, performed the very task that had been wanted. As his
hips jerked away from the lashing, his sphincter involuntarily relaxed and
allowed the young boy's hand entry up to the knuckles.

 The sudden parting of the waves caught Gerald on the hop. So suddenly had
the resistance departed that he'd not been able to anticipate the upset to
his spanking. The whip, missing the intended target to lash him upon his own
thigh, causing his body to leap sideways and halt the penetration.

 After a brief pause, in which both participants recovered their composure,
the hand resumed its journey. Slowly Gerald rotated his wrist, thus allowing
the more bulbous parts of his fist to stretch the resisting muscle and
membranes a little bit further. That done, and with a continues motion, he
pressed on in. His head dropped in so close that his chin all but rested on
his forearm so he could watch the already swollen ring pushing a glob of
lubricant before it. Wiping away the tanning gel, Gerald held his breath -
as Tommy had - when the sphincteral membranes reached the very limit of
their endurance.

 Felling stretched to breaking point Tommy summoned all his years of
experience for the final push. Already he could feel the soft, work-shy,
knuckles hammering on his back door and knew the end was in sight. Opening
his mouth as wide as possible he sucked down more air than his lungs could
possibly hold and pushed back as if he were shitting the ultimate turd. It
worked.

 Right before Gerald's astonished eyes the youth's arsehole swallowed his
hand. One moment the ring eased over the summit of his knuckles and the next
it galloped towards his elbow like a steeplechaser on the final furlong.
This, surprised the boy so much, that his face - plunging forward with his
hand - slapped Tommy's bum before he could do anything about it. By the time
he'd disengaged his pretty young face from blistered buttocks, his hand was
trapped in the tightest, hottest hole ever invented, a youth's arsehole.

 For some time all Gerald could do was stare at his forearm where it
disappeared from sight between the well flagellated buttocks of him nemesis.
Only very slowly did he become aware of the internal organs undulating
against him, proving Tommy, indeed, would enjoy the ultimate fucking.
Pulling back on his arm until the underside of his fist teased the
sphincteral muscles, Gerald abruptly changed direction and plunged into the
youth's depths.

 Paul had long since given up on fucking himself with Chris's prick to watch
the sex show being enacted before his very eyes. Forcing himself to stand
upright he imagined the hugeness that forced him to squat upon it wasn't the
prick of the helpless stable lad but the fist and forearm of his Master.
That, the future Lord had grown bored of fucking his cute boy bum in the
traditional fashion and had taken to shoving his entire hand deep inside
him. The vice-like engulfing on Paul's pricklet, wasn't his own hand but
suctioning lips of the same boy.

 Gerald wanked furiously with his free hand not, however, entirely on his
own prick. Occasionally, in order to allow his sap to retreat, he'd transfer
his hand up to the prick raised in salute above fisting hand and pull on
that until such time as he could, safely return to his own.

 Deeper and deeper the inquisitive fingers ploughed into Tommy's rectum, not
so much grazing his prostrate as trying to drag it out by the roots. Tommy,
too, fought off the orgasm that threatened to overpower him at any second.
his body shock and convulsed as much as the bonds would allow.

 Eventually, unable to stand it anymore, Gerald pulled out his filthy fist,
rubbed off the excess grease on his own arse, inserted as many fingers as he
could comfortably reach and rammed his pricklet into what felt like a train
tunnel.

 Accepting the slimmer, shorter, intrusion effortlessly, Tommy - upon
realisation of what it was - commanded his tired anal muscles to close
around Gerald's prick. In groaning, grinding, slow-motion he contracted from
the dimensions the fist had warranted to the three fat inches the prick
required. Once closed, both the boy and the youth realised there would be no
way they would open up again until the encounter had finally run its course.
Naturally, with the end so they powered their way towards it with every
ounce of fucking strength their nearly spent bodies could manage.

 The only one of the three boys not completely wasted by the heavy
atmosphere of sex, was Chris. Locked into his dark, sweaty, leather world he
became a stallion in stud. Himself as helpless as the horse had been, he was
left with nothing to do but fuck, regardless of what went on around him.
Several times the block to which he was chained, slipped across the rough
flooring with the force of the six foot teenager's hip thrusts. Several
times, also, Paul squealed in unison to the protesting wooden legs, as
Chris's prick reached parts of him previously untouched. His hand fell away
from his pricklet, forced to hold himself steady to the urgent pounding of
his rectum, less he fell flat on the floor and brought Chris, desk and all,
tumbling down onto of his slender form.

 The air full of the sweet smell of sweaty sex, the cacophony of rasped,
harsh, groaning and intermittent panting that penetrated even into the
tightest fantasy world. Suddenly, and for the first time, all four boys and
youths were aware of what they were doing and the reasons they did it. They
enjoyed being fucked up the arse or, cocksucking or, indeed, any of the
activities they had endured in the proceeding few days and the social
position the accident of birth had landed them in. That, not surprisingly,
heightened the sexual tension to a pitch that eve the most accomplished
celibate would have been unable to hold back, not that the assembled boys
and youths were that, yet.

 Tommy was the first to blow a major fuse. Despite his prick having been,
long since, left to its own devises, his spunk was rammed up the pulsating
tower by the fuck-pole in his arse. At the very moment Gerald added that
extra ounce of thrust the great volcano that slapped into his chest, erupted
so violently that spunk shot up to the ceiling from where it splattered the
once-neat, now messed, blond hair.

 Endlessly Gerald felt his upper torso sprinkled from the heavens. His
tongue scooping as much as it could into his mouth when he heard Paul scream
from behind him. Turning his head, he was just in time to see the
youngster's prick explode.

 Still springing from the fucking his rear was given, Paul's spunk formed
into an elaborate arch that decorated a section of the basement wall that
was taller, and broader, than himself.

 The future Lord wasn't the only to hear the screams of the sexual release,
Chris did too. However, the farm hand also felt them. As the youngster
peppered the air with more spunk than he'd ever produced before, his
sphincter had no option but to bit down on the shaft pumping his arse full
of knob-end. This initiated the chain reaction that finally lifted the desk
from the floor. Supporting the furniture's full weight Chris's body snapped
to attention, his prick and bollocks emptied themselves deep inside the
forever bent little boy.

 Last, but by no means least, Gerald's load built deep inside him. From
every vein, every fibre, every living being of his body, sensual feelings
migrated to his prick. Holding Tommy's upraised legs in a bear-hug, he
gritted his immaculate, white teeth and fucked for King and Country. As his
ancestors had done for generations before him, Gerald fucked the lower
classes with more enthusiasm than he'd every shown for anything else. Inside
the tight, slippy cavern of Tommy's arsehole, his prick expanded to unheard
of dimensions until it felt, to Gerald, like his fist had been transplanted
between his legs and he'd finally gained a prick that would be the envy of
his school-chums. Finally looking forward to returning to the closed
scholastic world that was his destiny, Gerald, unloaded spunk after spunk
into Tommy's hole until it dripped back out alongside the still pounding
prick and mashed into his pubic hair.

 When his strength returned, and as a farewell gesture to the youth who'd
taught him so much and, to whom he would, most probably, never talk to
again, Gerald bent down and kissed Tommy's prick. Then, leaving the youths
exactly where they were he, turned and left the basement. Paul paused for a
few more moments, committing the scene to memory before he, too, embarked
upon the rest of his life - forever bent.