WARNING: This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual acts between men and MINOR boys. It is not true! The story is not intended to promote illegal acts against minors. I do not condone child abuse, however the love of boys is a different matter. Despite the prevalent attitudes of western society, men have loved boys throughout recorded history. It is my goal to help readers appreciate that love can exist between men and boys. If the subject of man/boy love offends you, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are under the legal age for such material, do not read further!
By downloading this story: "... you implicitly declare and affirm under penalties of perjury that you are not a minor or in the company of a minor and are entitled to have access to material intended for mature, responsible members of society capable of making decisions about the content of documents they wish to read...."
Any similarity to individuals, living or dead, is entirely accidental. The sexual acts described in the story are the result of my imagination. I have not performed these acts, and I do not encourage others to perform them with minors.
The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. Copies have been placed in the Nifty archives for your enjoyment. The story cannot be used to derive monetary gain. The story cannot be placed in archives that require payment for access, or printed and distributed in any form that requires payment either directly or indirectly.
THE NIFTY ARCHIVE: The Nifty Archive needs your support. If you enjoy reading this story, please remember that it is available only because of the Nifty Archive. Instructions are provided on the Nifty home page for how to provide support.
FINAL WARNING: If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your thing, then exit now and save yourself from a life of sin!
Ratings for the multi-media television show, "The Predator" surpassed those of "Different Folks" for the first time, making it the most popular television show on the national networks. "The Predator" airs regularly twice a week for half an hour on Tuesday and Thursday nights. However, it is the Sunday night specials that were crucial in developing "The Predator's" popularity with audiences. The two-hour specials follow a similar theme as the show, but do not use a live audience. Instead, viewers watch a feature-length movie and then use the Internet to select the punishment for the predator. Not surprisingly, 95 percent of audiences choose capital punishment for sexual offenders, even when violence has not been used against the victim.
Mr. Alan Bundt, speaking on behalf of NICE Productions, observed, "We really aren't surprised by the ratings. `Predator' has been climbing steadily ever since we moved from buying time on Court TV and local programming stations to the syndicated networks and prime time. We are dealing with a subject that is in every one's mind, not just our immediate target audience of families with young children. As you can imagine, we've had many concerns expressed about the content. However, it's impossible to deal with pedophiles without dealing with sex. We are very careful, but we also appreciate that it's the sex, even depraved as it is, that interests many of our adult viewers. Our biggest problem has been keeping the sexual content suitable for viewing by young children."
"Different Folks" uses ten-minute vignettes to focus on building understanding and appreciation of a wide range of social minorities, from racial groups to economic classes. It has been the number-one-rated show for fifteen months. However, it is tame by comparison with "The Predator" and the third-ranked show, "Suburban Voyeur", which takes viewers into real people's houses by looking through windows at night. That show has been heavily criticized by groups concerned with the media's role in lowering morality standards. By contrast, "The Predator" has taken a positive stance in addressing one of the most difficult issues in society by giving the public the opportunity to express moral indignation at pedophilia.
This week's show is about a college-age soccer coach who seduces a nine-year-old boy and convinces him to run away from home so that they can live together. They travel from Philadelphia to a small town in New Mexico, only to be arrested by a suspicious sheriff.
Peter Hart used the remote to turn off the television. The room was unnaturally quiet. It was almost never quiet with ten rambunctious boys, especially when bedtime approached. He glanced from one handsome face to the other. The boys avoided his gaze. He wondered what they were thinking. Although he would never admit it, he found them threatening, not menacing or hostile, but intimidating. Over the course of four days there had been numerous opportunities to confirm what he had already gleaned from the boys' files. With only a few exceptions, the boys were highly intelligent. They were not just smart, above average IQ kids who would succeed in school, college, and later life by becoming doctors, lawyers or engineers. A couple of the boys, two definitely and perhaps a third, were genius-level, unbeatable in any activity that involved mental skills. They were, or rather would have been destined for greatness but for the flaw they carried in their genes. However, they would never rise beyond menial tasks. More than the rest, he hated them for what they were.
"Well, nucks,..." He yawned with boredom as he posed the question that was required. "What do you think should be done to the pervert this time?"
They ignored him, partly because they were bored because they had been required to watch two or was it three prior episodes of "The Predator" that day. They were also continuing their silent insurrection that had started after dinner of the previous day. In any case, Hart ignored them in return. It always took a few days for each group of boys to settle in and adjust to being away from home, the time it took to go from being lonely to identifying with their peers. Peer pressure was an important element of the orientation. In some ways, it was easier to work with ten boys than one boy alone.
Again, he wondered what was going through their pretty heads. Of all the boys, the Eurasian boy bothered him the most. Every time he looked into those liquid dark eyes he sensed barely restrained bitterness and brooding anger. He found it vaguely amusing that a pedophile, the most loathed of all deviates, resented him. Accordingly, Hart went out of his way to torment the boy at every opportunity.
The problem, or rather the instigator of Hart's dislike was that it was hard to find flaw with Daniele Webster. He was not only the best looking boy in the cabin, and certainly the smartest, but he was also very athletic. The unpleasant truth that Hart preferred to ignore was that Daniele Webster was the ultimate endorsement of Darwin's theory of evolution. It seemed as if there was nothing that the boy could not do, but more than anything Hart was disturbed by his apparent dreaminess that concealed an uncanny ability to process vast amounts of information. That, and to have strange ideas and often unsettling perspectives that turned out to better than any other alternative.
During Hart's training, they had referred to it as `creative genius', under any other circumstances a precious asset, but it had become something that society was prepared to forgo to eliminate the evil of pedophilia. How often had he heard it expressed in just those terms? The `evil of pedophilia'. Hart found it reassuring that nature had seen fit to burden such superiority with the da Vinci gene.
"He didn't do anything bad," Daniele answered quietly.
For once he showed no outward sign of the anger that had differentiated him from the mute conformity of the other boys. Sometimes, he was logical to a fault. This was one of those times. Hart rose quickly to the bait.
"How can you say that? Jesus, if ever there was a pedo, he's one. Goddamn pervert! The son-of-a-bitch did things to the kid!" he exclaimed.
"He was just being a friend to the boy when he wanted one," Daniele said adamantly. "He didn't do anything bad. He kissed the boy on the lips one time, that's all!"
"Ha!" Hart replied sarcastically. "So what? The kiss was symbolic. He wanted to have sex with him."
"So?" Daniele was defiant. "What does it matter what he wanted? He didn't do anything!"
He remembered Dustin's warning, but he was tired of `passive resistance'. The made-for- TV movie was full of insinuation. A soccer coach had befriended a fatherless nine-year-old boy, and while there were overtones of a sexual attraction, it had never progressed beyond a friendly hug after the boy had won `best player of the year', and that kiss, the kiss that sent a ripple of excitement through every boy in the cabin although every one of them managed to hide it. To Daniele's eyes, the kiss had been mutual, a sign of affection and caring about each other. He had kissed Dustin the same way, offering his lips first, and then his mouth to the man's exploring tongue. Why was he supposed to be ashamed of doing something that felt so good, so natural?
"It doesn't matter what he did," Hart countered argumentatively.
"Why?" Aaron asked nervously. He glanced at Daniele, offering silent support beyond his one-worded question.
"Because,..." Hart hesitated.
There was another reason why Daniele made him feel uncomfortable. With one or two exceptions, the other boys liked him despite his aloofness. It was as if they could see something in Daniele that had eluded him.
"He wanted to do evil things to the boy, Mr. Hart," Connor interjected. Ever since what had happened on the first day he had sided with the counselor.
Daniele gave him a dismissive shrug to convey that it was simply not worth his effort to pursue the matter. Every member of his family, like the vast majority of families across the country had just watched `The Predator'. It depressed him that even his mother continued to watch it after she knew that he carried the da Vinci gene, and worse, that his father made him watch even after he knew that his son was likely to become a predator himself. It was as if he took delight in his son's shame.
"Okay, so what should be done with him, or all pedophiles for that matter?" Hart asked pointedly.
The first suggestion came from Connor. "They should all be castrated."
"I'd put him in jail forever," suggested another boy who made no secret of his friendship for Connor. "That's what all pedos deserve." He grinned sheepishly.
"Castrated, and then done away with, Mr. Hart," Connor added. He glanced nervously around the room. He knew that the other boys resented him siding with the counselor, but it was safer that way.
"I like that idea," Hart remarked with a smirk. "How about it, Webster? What would you do with him?"
Daniele returned a blank expression. There was no point in repeating what he had just said. The soccer coach had done nothing that was illegal as far as he knew. Was hugging a boy illegal? Beyond that one kiss, they hadn't done anything. They had touched each other, but not improperly, not if you didn't count the time when the teenager kissed the top of the boy's head and playfully patted his rump. However, his hand had come very close to the boy's crotch several times when they were standing in the darkness of the unlit soccer field. It was a magical moment, a few seconds that would last a lifetime.
Daniele had felt the intensity of the man's desire, still longing to be in a similar situation. He had fantasized during the commercial break, another one of those unpleasant NICE commercials that talked about the successes of their programs. He dreamed of easing down into the cool grass, the boy beneath him several years younger than he was, maybe even five of six years old, and having sex while they were hidden in the cloak of darkness. Real sex, the sort of sex where he ended up putting his penis inside the little boy's bottom. The fantasy gave him no pleasure, not like it would have done only a day earlier.
Then, for no reason at all, Daniele remembered one evening when Dustin had escorted him from the bookstore almost to his front door. They had taken a short-cut through the park, a short cut that took ten minutes longer because they stopped beside the lake. He remembered how he and Dustin had gazed into each other's eyes. It was if he could see Dustin's soul. He saw it exposed and fragile, and wanting so much to break free and to merge with him. Then, in a rush from deep inside him, he had wanted Dustin to touch him, to hold him tightly, to hold his sex captive in his hand, to show him what love was. In the dim moonlight, they had kissed for nearly ten minutes, doing what Dustin called French-kissing. It felt so good, so natural to do that with him, that it was almost impossible to stop.
"I asked you a question?"
Hart's voice was carefully modulated, which served to make it only more threatening. He lifted his pencil ready to make yet another check, that would record yet another example of Daniele's lack of cooperation. Aaron nudged him to incite a response. At that point, anything would be better than nothing.
"There were just good friends," Daniele retorted.
Hart guffawed. "Oh? So they were just good friends? Is that what you really think, Webster, or are you just saying it to make me angry? Take it from me, when a man and a boy are friends it's only because he wants to have sex with him."
"Who does?" Daniele asked almost without thinking, without hesitating for he was tired of the inanity of the world around him.
"Who does what?"
"Who wants to have sex? Do you mean the man or the boy?" Daniele asked with such faked seriousness that every boy in the cabin laughed.
Hart scowled. He was unable to think of an appropriate response, certainly not a response that would not cause further laughter. Instead, his hand crept towards the transmitter in his pocket. He had not used the training band for the entire day. For a moment his finger teased the button. Daniele quivered at the now familiar sensation, the shivering pulses along his spine. He tensed, drawing his strength from inside. This time he was not going to cry.
Instead of pressing, Hart smirked. There were other ways to achieve the same thing. He nodded understandingly.
"Well, `nuck, I think it's time we stopped this."
Daniele took a deep breath. When the counselor sounded as if he cared, it signaled trouble. He half-closed his eyes as he waited for the pain. His hands closed, ready to clench.
"Bedtime?" Aaron suggested hopefully.
"Yeah, you wish," Hart said sarcastically. "No way, not for another hour."
This was the time he cherished. He had known from the very first day that he would do the Webster boy first. He relished the control, the power of breaking him, changing him forever.
"I think it's time you boys found out what it's like to have sex. None of you have any idea of what happens to a little boy when a pedophile gets hold of him. It's time you found out," he said softly. He pointed at Daniele. "Guess what? You're first again. Get naked, `nuck."
"Why?"
"Because I said so. Because you don't want this," Hart explained callously as he rubbed his finger across the transmitter button again.
Daniele felt the tingle down his spine increase to a series of throbs in his muscles. That and his fear was enough to make him shudder several times. His bare knees trembled. He shook his head. He could not fight it, not this time, not again. Aversion therapy worked.That was why it was used. Obediently, he began to remove his tee-shirt. With a pitiless smirk, Hart went into the adjoining room. By the time he returned, Daniele was naked and sitting on his bed again.
"Here Webster," Hart said.
Smirking, he tossed a box to Daniele which was deftly caught with one hand. It was about the same size as a small shoebox. It was labeled with the `NICE' logo, `Training Pack A: Large', and it had bold blue numerals announcing, `120'. No surprisingly, it was `Made in China'.
"Your file says you're supposed to work up to a `ninety' before you try the large," Hart sneered, "but an ass like you deserves more, Webster. `120' ought to make you behave yourself for a while."
Daniele glared at him, still not understanding what the numbers referred beyond being the nurse's explanation that it referred to the circumference of something. It took a few seconds to express his frustration.
Finally, he managed to say, "What's so hard in being nice to us?"
Hart laughed. "Nice? You're a pedo, `nuckster. That's enough to justify any treatment I want to give you. You're a goddamn evil pervert who preys on little boys. You want to stick that tiny little thing you call a dick in some poor kid's ass. Connor's right. Castration isn't enough for you. You ought to be dead."
Daniele wanted to scream. Instead, he closed his eyes and counted slowly, very slowly. When he reached ten, he breathed out slowly. His world was absurd, but he had made it his personal mission to make sense of it. "If you took the time to read my file, you would see I wasn't castrated."
Hart laughed cruelly. "No you weren't. Not that it makes any difference with your tiny balls. You're a pedo, a boy-fucker. And now that your nuts are about as useful as a pieces of crap so you won't be able to do anything about it. Any way you look at it, Webster, you're still a `nuck."
There was no way to avoid the awful truth. Nothing mattered. There were no rights, not for pedophiles. Daniele lowered his head. Hart was right. Although the officially sanctioned term was `neuter', he was a eunuch.
"The fact is, Dan-eel-lee, NICE boys don't deserve nice treatment. They're all pedophiles and they deserve to be punished for as long as they live. You're lucky you aren't spending the rest of your life in jail. If I had any say in it, you wouldn't just lose your balls, you'd be dead."
"I can't help it," Daniele groaned miserably. "Do you think I wanted to be like this? Do you think any of us wanted to be pedophiles?" he begged in a trembling voice as he looked around at the other boys. Some of them avoided looking at him.
Connor grinned. "My dad says the best pedo is a dead pedo, Mr. Hart."
Hart shrugged dispassionately. "Get over it, Connor. Go on, Webster, open it up so we can see what Santa's brought you."
Reluctantly, Daniele opened the box. Inside, there was a large blue and white tube that was vaguely medicinal. It was clearly labeled `NICE Lubricating Jelly', `Non-toxic, non-greasy,', but when he thought about it, he could not understand why it was there or what it was to be sued for. There was nothing that needed lubricating that he could think of. There was a nylon strap, two straps actually, joined in the center with Velcro on the ends. He put it aside. There were three things that were similar in shape, if not size. They were pink in color and were graduated in size from small to large, identified with small black numbers on the side: `100,' `110', `120.'. He held up the largest one for the simple reason that it was closest to hand. It looked vaguely familiar, like something he had known all his life, but as he held it between his fingers its real function entirely escaped him. It was about five inches long, so thick that the tips of his finger and thumb could just meet when he held it in his hand. One end was a rounded cone, not sharp but sufficiently pointed to suggest it had a specific if unknown function. The other end was blunt and equipped with a flared ridge at the very end that formed a knob. It was flexible and it seemed to bend easily, almost as if it was made from rubber, yet as he pushed the pointed end directly into the palm of his other hand it was unyielding. It was covered with a plastic-rubbery texture was both smooth and uneven at the same time. It felt both strangely reassuring and unsettling to hold it in his hand.
"What's this? he asked innocently, still examining the device and trying to make up his mind what it was.
.Hart snorted before laughing. "You don't know, Webster?" he chortled. "That's funny. I would have thought you would know what it was of all of things. You really don't? Jesus, with your looks I'm surprised you're still a virgin."
Daniele looked down at the thing in his hand, trying to identify it. It was thicker than a broomstick. Two of the other boys laughed, clearly recognizing it for what it was.
"It looks like some kind of tool, or a toy of some kind," Daniele added as he examined it further.
"A toy?" Hart guffawed. "Yeah, I suppose you might say that. It's a special toy for boys like you. It's something to play with when you get lonely at night."
"Huh? How do I play with it?" Daniele asked awkwardly.
He could see no practical or playful use for it. He did observe that centered on the blunt end was a plastic loop that was sized to hold the nylon straps.
You think I'm joking, don't you `nuck?" Hart asked teasingly. "What you have in your hand is more fun than any toy you own, not even your Ken and Barbie dolls."
Two of the boys laughed. He glanced around the room, expecting more mirth.
"Trust me, you'll enjoy playing with it. A plug is the ideal NICE-boy-toy," he continued.
"Huh? Plug?"
Some of the other boys snickered. Daniele glanced at them uncomfortably, resenting that he was the object of amusement because of his ignorance.
"It's a dildo, you dope," one of the boys said gleefully.
"A what?"
"Actually, it's a butt-plug. Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough what a dildo is, Adam. This is a variation on the same theme but a more permanent especially when it's used with a harness. It'll be your best friend before you know it, Webster," Hart snickered.
Again, Daniele glared back at him for a moment. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. All he could do was to put up with Hart's persecution and do whatever he was told to do. He handed over the object when Hart extended his hand. Around the room, the other boys were either smiling, or were as confused as he was. Aaron inched guiltily away.
He recognized it as soon as he had seen it for he had discovered a similar object hidden in the far corner of the basement of his house. From the residual smell as much as the shape, he had soon figured out what it was used for. There were magazines there too; ancient, dog-eared, dusty magazines with titles like `Piccolo' and `Faun-boy'. There were pictures of boys in the stash of magazines, mostly black and white and a few in color, but all of boys who were close to his own age. Some of the pages were badly stained and had obviously been looked at more than others. Strangely, the same pages also held his interest the longest as well, although he was unable to add spots and stains of his own. Perhaps they belonged to his older brother who was away at college, but an equally likely and somewhat unsettling possibility was that they belonged to his father. He had returned time and time again to study the stash of magazines until it seemed that he knew every picture by heart.
"I'm surprised that our little Jewish pedo knows what a butt-plug is for." Hart continued mercilessly, more than happy to torment Daniele's closest friend and accomplice.
Aaron quaked and swallowed. His face whitened as the blood drained in the bottomless pit of silent denial. Hart laughed.
"You look like you've seen it in use, Kalmann. Or maybe you've tried one yourself? Why don't you tell us what it does?"
Aaron looked up, startled. For a few seconds he awkwardly avoided responding. The words burned his ears, but excited him nonetheless, for the function of the thing that Hart was had been indelibly imprinted in his mind. He had tried it on himself more than once, there was no escaping it. He hadn't known about the need for lubricant the first time so the results were less than spectacular. He was at home by himself on a rainy Saturday afternoon when he had succumbed. He hurried down to the basement, knowing that he only had a half-hour of safety. But a half-hour would be long enough for what he needed to do. Sometimes it only took a few minutes to quench his hunger. He had opened the magazines at his favorite pictures, then rapt in that intense fascination that plagues boy-lovers, he entered his fantasy. Because time was short he only lowered his `Salty Dog' designer jeans and white Hanes briefs to his knees. Sometimes, more often than not, he undressed completely and lay down on the discarded comforter and blankets that he had retrieved from the attic.
His penis was hard just as it always was when he looked at the magazines. Caressing his reddened bulging glans with his thumb, he began to study the pictures in `Piccolo 33'. It was one of his favorites and certain to provide the stimulation to sustain his fantasy. Fingering, or more accurately, thumbing his penis quickly turned to stroking, rubbing up and down the short demanding shaft until he trembled and began to breath slowly, deeply, inhaling and exhaling through his mouth. It would not take long before he was gasping for air.
With his mind focused on an image of two boys, he half closed his eyes and took the place of one of them. It was always the same boy who he replaced simply because the other boy was so desirable. It took a few minutes before his penis began to throb. By then he had placed the magazine on the comforter, folding it so that it remained opened at the page he enjoyed the most. Then, the rubbing became earnest. No longer content to merely masturbate, Aaron's now-free hand began to explore.
Unlike many boys whose inhibitions impedes discovery, the importance of his anus had been swiftly revealed to Aaron Kalmann. Boy's bottoms were featured in the magazines almost as often as their frontal regions, and some of the pictures were very graphic when it came to anal sex. Licking his lips, Aaron hesitantly brought his fingers to his mouth. It felt better if his fingers were wet with saliva. He reached down, no longer hesitant but trembling with excitement, stopping only to secure the page from turning over. He feasted his eyes on the picture of the two boys. One, the youngest with close-cropped blond hair, was bent over, looking back over his shoulder. The other boy, dark-haired and much taller, had a Cheshire-cat grin. If he looked closely, Aaron could see where the older boy's penis had been placed, if only because there was so little to be seen of it.
On that rainy Saturday afternoon, Aaron finally determined that if having a finger inserted in his anus felt nice, then something bigger would surely feel even better. And so, with shaking hands, he had tried to insert that crude imitation of a penis into the place where it belonged, all the while pretending that he was on the giving rather than receiving end, and the recipient was the little blond-headed boy who he so greatly admired in the photograph. In some ways the resilient plastic-plug was like the wax-candle that he would shortly discover an alternative use for. It was about the same thickness all the way along its eight-inch length, rounded on one end, but slightly curved instead of being straight. Unlike the candle which was always difficult to grasp, it was equipped with two knobs at the end spaced just far enough that it would be clamped by the sphincter muscle and held in place.
Unfortunately for Aaron, the saliva that had made his fingers slippery, had all but dried. It hurt a lot more than it was supposed to, but he persisted anyway, alternating between masturbation and trying to force the plastic-plug higher into his rectum. Fortunately for Aaron, the plug was not so large that it could cause him injury, because his determination was so dogged that he was oblivious to everything except the effort to insert the plug all the way inside himself.
That was how his father found him, half-naked, half-impaled, half-groaning, half-delirious with first-time pleasure. Unlike the vast majority of fathers, his father understood.
"Well, Kalmann? Are you going to tell us or be the first to demonstrate it?" Hart said in a low warning voice.
Aaron breathed out. The next time that he had used the plug he had known to use lubricant. It went in easily, sliding on the slippery film. From then on, he always used the plug when he looked at the magazines.
"It goes in your butt,..." He breathed out slowly. It was not as difficult as he had thought. It had been easy for his father to talk about it as well.
"That's a start. Now tell us why?"
"To,... it makes you feel nice inside. And,..."
"Yes? And what? Tell us what it does to your ass-hole?" Hart prompted pitilessly.
"It makes you bigger," Aaron said in a rush to get the words out.
Hart smirked. "Yes, it's been known to do that. Thank for explaining that to us," he said sarcastically. "Now, Mr. Webster. My favorite pedo it's time we put theory into practice,... If you know what's good for you, you'll do exactly what I say," Hart said warningly as his finger lightly touched the transmitter. "Okay?"
Daniele nodded slowly.
"I'll put it in the first time, but after that, you're on your own. Webster,... lie down on your side facing towards the window."
Daniele obeyed. He tried to empty his mind, not to hear what was clamoring inside his head. He heard Dustin's voice counseling, advising, trying to help, never raised in anger, not even after he had done that stupid awful thing with Nicky in the ice-cream parlor. Even then, Dustin had remained calm and supportive.
"Pull you knees up to your chest. Higher."
Daniele obeyed. He watched over his shoulder as Hart removed that cap from the tube of `NICE Lubricating Jelly' and liberally applied a thick transparent film along most of the length of the pink plug. He added an extra dollop on the pointed end. Someone giggled. Connor more than likely. His turn would come soon enough, but not too soon. Connor would probably enjoy it. It was far more pleasing if the boy fought it. Hart came closer, relishing the task with a unconcealed smile. He sat down on the bed, gingerly holding the plug out as if the slightest contact with its shining slick surface would somehow taint his fingers.
"Pull your butt cheeks apart, pedo. All I'm going to do is the same thing that you want to do to a little a boy. It's time you found out for yourself what it's like."
In a conditioned reaction, Daniele moved his hand backs to comply. Then suddenly, in a shocking instant that struck deep into his mind, he had a flash of insight and everything made sense. He had realized what it was going to do to him.
Hart's voice was low, subdued, patient, yet authoritative. Over the last year he had done it hundreds of times. At first, he had been clumsy and awkward. Most of the boys had squealed and shrieked their way through their first times. A few had even bled badly enough that they had been taken to the infirmary, but he was good at it now. All it took was practice and a strong steady hand. And control, above all else control. The boy had to be made to relax. With one of the other boys, he would have proceed slowly, giving instructions, giving encouragement, giving the young body time to adjust.
"Not good enough. Get your ass-cheeks further apart you little faggot," he hissed. "I have to see your hole. Yeah, that's better. My, you've got yourself a nice little pucker, don't you. But not for much longer. You know what I'm going to do to you, don't you, `nuck?"
Daniele nodded weakly. Even before they had reviewed the male anatomy and the basic sex act two days earlier, he had known about the mechanics of anal intercourse for several months. He had seen drawings of one man putting his penis inside another man's bottom in the book at Dustin's Bookstop. That was what the counselor was holding in his hand. An imitation penis. It had a circumference of 120 millimeters, a diameter of an inch and a half. It was a man's penis, not overly large, but a long way from the slim short penis of a boy. And it was a boy that Daniele still so desperately wanted despite the horror of aversion therapy.
"The rest of you boys will start with the smallest one in your pack. However, Daniele's going to show us what it's like to start with the biggest so you can see what's possible. It's a `120'. This will hurt like hell at first, Webster," Hart said carefully, looking around to make sure that the other boys were listening as well. "But there's a trick that can make it hurt less. Push back like you're taking a crap when I start to push it in. It's entirely up to you. Either way it's going up your ass. You got that, `nuck?"
Again Daniele nodded meekly. He turned back, laying his head on his pillow. All he could think of was how large it looked. Pink, thick, and large, larger than seemed humanly possible. It was so much bigger than his own small penis. It would never fit inside his anus, not when it was so tight on his little finger. He wondered how large Dustin's penis was. Could any penis be so large?"
"Spread you cheeks. Wider! Yeah, like that."
Hart licked his lips with cruel anticipation. He had ruptured one boy a year or so earlier. What was his name? Duncan? He had red hair. Afterwards, with the other counselors he had joked about tight Scottish asses. No one cared that the boy had half-a-dozen stitches and spent several days in bed. Still, the director would be displeased if he ruptured another boy's anus, especially if he had not followed the nurse's instructions. The difference between gradually working up to 120 and forcing in 120 at the start was the difference between heaven and hell. And the boy had such a perfect hole that it was almost a sin to violate it. It was a tiny puckered, slightly darker dot. It was spotlessly clean, not dirty like some boys who didn't make the effort to wipe themselves properly. Yet, even as those thoughts passed through his mind, Hart smirked. Of all the things his job entailed, this was the part he enjoyed the most. With one hard push, innocence would be gone forever, lost with the boy's virginity. Some blood would be nice, just not too much of it because it would scare the other boys.
Hart glanced surreptitiously around the room. It was important that all of the boys were watching. And they were watching, just as he expected. They were interested in what was going to happen to Daniele, as well they should be for their turns would come soon enough.
"You're going to be one tight `nuck, kid," Hart mused aloud. "I'm surprised she ranked you as a one-two-zero. Your ass is so small it looks more like a forty to me," he chuckled.
He reached over and picked up an aerosol can that Daniele had overlooked when he opened the training pack. It was small, about the size of a small can of spray paint with a spray nozzle that resembled a small hand-held fire-extinguisher. Again, except for the N.I.C.E. logo, the label was innocuous. "BLISS. For boys who need a head start." It contained "All Natural Ingredients."
"What's that?" Daniele asked nervously.
"If I didn't use this on you, Nurse Buchanan would throw a fit." Hart winked. "It's your salvation, Webster. Without it you wouldn't sit down for a week. It's mostly lube, but it desensitizes as well. It won't feel half as bad as it might otherwise. It's got an analgesic in it. Anal-ease- it, get it?"
He pointed it down and positioned the spray nozzle in the center of Daniele's exposed crack. He pressed, squirting a liberal amount directly onto and around the boy's anus, causing him to cringe with the sudden coldness. It usually took a minute or two before the chemicals began to take effect.
"Now that you boys know what I'm going to use this for, the question is should I put it in fast or slow?" Hart asked with dry humor as he held the glistening plug up for all to see.
"You're going to stick it in his ass in one go," Connor answered with a big grin.
Hart smirked at Connor. "You got it right the first time, Connor. I'm so proud of you. Now, a lot of times a boy screams his head off the first time he does it, even with the spray. You going to scream for us the first time your ass is plugged, Webster?"
Daniele tensed defiantly. Hart pressed the pointed end against his crack, wriggling it slightly to smear the slimy gel over the skin. He rotated it over the slight indentation that was Daniele's anus. For a few seconds Daniele clenched his buttocks tightly to resist the intrusion, even though he realized that doing so represented resistance, which would only make Hart use force. He waited for the pain to begin, but instead, the thing that bulged into his crack was already feeling numb.
Instead of pushing harder, Hart brushed his finger over the transmitter button. He carried Daniele's transmitter with him at all times. He enjoyed using it without warning, even without cause. Only in that way could he control Daniele. This time it was just enough to make Daniele aware of what might happen to him if he disobeyed. For a few seconds the boy hovered between pain and pleasure, his beautiful face distorted to an obscene grimace. With his other hand, Hart screwed the plug with a firm pressure. Instinctively, Daniele tried to move away as it began to turn in his most tender place.
The second time, Hart applied an even lighter touch to the button. Daniele trembled with the thrilling surge down his spine. At first, his anus contracted involuntarily, momentarily blunting the onslaught. Then as Hart applied increased pressure, he whimpered loudly. It was not so anesthetized that the sensitivity had gone. It hurt, burning as if a branding iron was searing his anus. He had an unsettling feeling that after Hart was done his anus would be left permanently gaping, that he would never be able to have a normal bowel movement.
"It's not going to fit. There's no way," one of the boys murmured.
"The hell it isn't," Hart commented dryly.
He twisted the over-sized plug forcefully, watching as nine onlookers recoiled in horror, each of them silently disputing that what he was trying to do was physically possible. However, what the boys didn't know was that with enough effort a plug that was the size of the one in Hart's firm grasp could be shoved into a ten-year-old boy's anus. There was even a fair to good chance that it could be done without permanent injury. It seemed that Nature had accommodated every human eccentricity as part of some greater plan for the species.
"Don't fight it Webster. You know what'll happen if you do. I'll just push harder."
"It hurts something awful," Daniele complained.
"Of course it damned well hurts," Hart acknowledged without reducing the pressure. "What did you expect? This is how it feels for little boy, the boys that pedophiles say they love. Because they don't really love them, you know. All they want is to get their cocks in their tight little asses."
The fluid that had been sprayed into Daniele's anus began to take effect. The fiery heat disappeared, replaced by a warm relaxing glow. The tip of the massive plug burrowed deeper although it was still a long way from breaching the tiny opening. Between Daniele's whitened fingertips, Hart could see the boy's no-longer puckered anus. Already it was stretched to a thin pale line. He was reminded of a mouth trying to swallow something that could never fit inside no matter how far the jaws were stretched apart.
"You're hurting him, Mr. Hart," a trembling voice said from behind Hart.
"No shit." He relented. "Okay,.... Push back, Webster. If you know what's good for you, just relax and push back," Hart suggested softly, wondering who had spoken for it would be his turn next, right after the Jewish boy.
He barely touched the transmitter button. Daniele weakened as the nerves in his spine were stimulated in a way that made his limbs tremble. He could feel pulses of pleasure reaching out, traveling throughout his naked body. However, the sensations were concentrated between his buttocks, a constant stream of vibrations that made his anus quiver and somehow changed the agony to a nagging ache.
"Push back," Hart repeated again in a low threatening voice. "Try to push it out, Webster. Push your ass down on it and it'll stop hurting."
"H-h-hurts.... Awful."
"You're hurting him," Aaron said bitterly.
"So what, rich boy? Don't worry, Aaron. You're next," Hart smirked. "Your parents' money can't help you here."
He gaped down, fascinated by Daniele's defiance, by his ability to persist in fighting back, even as he worked the end of plug deeper into the over-stretched anus. The boy shook as pain returned, worse than before. It seared his body. He would never forget what it was like his first time.
"So what are you thinking about right now, Webster? Are you still thinking about little boys? It hurts like hell, doesn't it, taking a man-sized cock up your ass? Do you still want to do this to a little boy's ass?"
Daniele smoldered in silence, for once unable and unwilling to find the words to fight back. He had never dreamed that the camp would be so dreadful. One hideous experience followed the next, so repulsive that even the food, which was actually quite good, became atrocious simply because the boys were required to listen to the camp director's lecture on the evils of pedophilia after the meal. However, the lectures were anemic compared to what happened afterwards. For three times a day the boys were subjected to aversion therapy. They were long painful sessions involving the use of stimulus, response, and corrective action using the training bands. The degree of pain applied was designed to modify behavior, always increasing as the sessions persisted.
Sometimes, the boys were shown photographs, but primarily video was used. No matter the media, the stimulus always featured young boys. Each time the sessions began innocently. Videos of boys in various sporting activities predominated-- swimming, baseball, basketball or soccer, always showing handsome faces and lean agile bodies. Usually, the videos ended after the boys had been subjected to appropriate conditioning treatment for merely being attracted to what they were forced to watch. However, sometimes there was an older male, a coach who watched the boys with depraved enjoyment and eventually made contact with one of them. Then, the boys were subjected to throbbing electric shocks, high voltage pulses that temporarily stunned their nervous systems. At one time or another all of them had broken down and cried.
For Daniele, it was a matter of enduring unremitting agony. He had been singled out to bear the brunt of Hart's sadistic pleasure. Relief came only when he finally lost all control and urinated in his shorts. When his body responded and his penis became a short hard spike, Hart laughed and made certain that his ignominy was known to all. Then, when all the boys were watching, his finger forced the button down, and in sadistic joy, he watched as Daniele writhed and screamed on the floor of the cabin. After the first few sessions it was a wonder that the boy could still get erections, but he did.
"Stop screwing around and push you damned ass down on it before I rupture your sphincter," Hart growled. "I don't have all night."
"I-I-I'm t-t-t-r-r-y-ing," Daniele sobbed. "It hurts."
"Push harder!"
"God! I can't! It hurts."
Hart angrily pulled back and shoved the plug back into the gaping hole. For an instant, he saw red, but it was not unusual for the boys to bleed. Daniele screamed and bucked as the plug pierced his innards. It had gone in nearly two inches, so deep that the thickest part of the plug extended far enough beyond the inner sphincter that there was no way that Daniele was able to stop the rest of it from sliding in. Only then did Hart stop his torment.
"You got enough to start with `nuck," he taunted. "How's it feel? Good I bet. Like the biggest dump you ever took? Like your ass-hole has just been ripped apart?"
Daniele gritted his teeth. It was impossible to describe the excruciating pain. The thing inside him, and it was inside him now, felt,.... huge. He fought against a flood of tears, his only relief being that it was not getting any worse. And still, through all of it, those terrible agonizing seconds that Hart had rammed the plug through virgin ring of his anus and impaled him, there had been something else that made his mind spin. This was what it would be like if Dustin loved him, made love to him. Dustin's penis had to be every bit as large as the horrible thing that Hart was ramming into him. He focused on that single thought, imagining he could feel Dustin's hands, pretending to hear Dustin's consoling voice, trying to convince himself that it was Dustin's penis that had taken possession of his body.
No longer was he aware of the tremors down his spine, the twitching of his limbs, the perpetual throbbing of his muscles in response to Hart's carefully applied stimulation. By then, only one muscle was in use. His sphincter muscle, one of the few muscles capable of dilation, under both voluntary and involuntary control, pulling inward, then expanding outward, instinctively opening to accept the invading plastic object.
As he pressed down, Hart rotated his hand expertly. The obscenely thick plug inched forward, forging a much larger passageway through the now-squirming boy. He smirked, enjoying the moment of Daniele's surrender. This boy, despite every genetic advantage that he possessed, was no different to the rest of the NICE boys. They all capitulated eventually, but some were quick to submit, almost too quick, as if they had been waiting for it. Daniele didn't say a word, nothing more than erratic gasps and groans, and that ever-present whimper, but there were clear signs that he wanted it in him. He wanted it deep inside him, pushed up hard against his immature prostate gland. It was where the feelings were the best.
A quick glance around the room confirmed what Hart already knew. The boys were always fascinated. It was almost impossible to believe one's eyes, that something so big could actually fit inside a ten-year-old boy's anus, but it could. In fact, it was already more than halfway there. In taking Daniele's virginity, he experienced a reassuring satisfaction.
After the first few dozen times he had developed a technique that seemed to work more often than not. He was always patient once he had inserted it. Few boys were able to withstand a prolonged penetration, even with the desensitizing spray. The trick entailed getting the plug in deeply and then keeping it there until the boy's anus and rectum dilated. Once it had reached the vicinity of the boy's prostate, the worst was over. He put the transmitter down beside the bed. He no longer needed it.
Looking down, along with nine other pairs of eyes, Hart was equally fascinated to see what had happened. It was in almost the entire way. Less than an inch remained before the knob, before the plug began to swell. Three inches was inside the boy's anus, more than deep enough to put pressure on his prostate gland. It had forced the rim of Daniele's anus inside so that the flesh of his buttocks was pulled inward, seemingly absorbed into an inner void. There was a distinct bulge in the boy's cheeks where plug disappeared, where it displaced his innards.
"It'll stop hurting in a few minutes," Hart commented dryly. He glanced around with amusement at his attentive audience. "I don't want any of you boys to try this by yourselves. You only do this with adult supervision," he said in a humorless voice.
Daniele's legs trembled with each spasm. He pulled them closer to his chest, trying to relax, wanting to make himself larger inside so the pain would go away, at the same time unable to stop himself from squeezing down so the other feeling would get better. His anus clamped around the end, biting against the resilient end. He was barely aware that the counselor was threading the nylon strap through the end of the plug.
"What's that for, Mr. Hart?" Jared asked.
"The strap? He needs to keep it inside him."
"Why?" Travis asked.
By the morning of the second day Travis had been nick-named `Bone' for the simple reason that his penis was erect almost constantly. He had been fortunate to have received the same ultrasound treatment as Aaron, and like Aaron he had been given blue `Testo-start' skin-patches to initiate the hormone replacement program. The other boys also received patches, but they were pale pink, flesh-colored `Slow-Gro patches', which had the remarkable ability to inhibit the formation of growth hormones in the pituitary and thyroid glands.
"So his ass gets stretched," Connor guffawed.
"How long does it stay inside?" Travis asked.
"As long as it takes," Hart answered sarcastically. "The tighter your ass, the longer it takes."
"Like days?" Jared asked nervously.
"Don't worry. By tomorrow morning he'll forget it's there."
"It stays in all the time?"
"Except when he's taking a crap."
"Gross. It's in there all the time? Like when we eat? And during sports?"
"Uh huh. That way your body gets used to it. The strap keeps it in all the way," Hart explained as he lifted Daniele's hip and slipped one end of the strap underneath him.
In front, the straps ran either side of his genitals. From behind they were hidden inside his crack, appearing only as they separated at the tail of his spine. The Velcro ends of the straps came together neatly midway between Daniele's navel and groin. That was the advantage with the low- rise harnesses. The straps would be covered even if the boy was wearing a Speedo, not that it was a cause for concern if anyone saw it because within a day or two every boy at the camp would be similarly equipped, even the boys in the youngest group.
"There," Hart said, tightening the straps another half-inch. "It's on. See, it doesn't feel too bad, does it Webster? Get up and walk around, assuming you can still walk."
"It hurts inside," Daniele complained sullenly.
"The big ones will do that for a while," Hart chuckled. "Don't worry, `nuck. You'll be okay. The sooner you get used to having it in your ass, the sooner the pain goes away."
"But there's blood on him," Aaron protested.
"Yeah, well that happens sometimes. It's already stopped. It's no different for a little boy when a pedophile gets his hands on him, except there's blood everywhere," he added. "He's okay."
Hart tightened the straps again, making it into a secure harness. He slapped Daniele's uppermost buttock. It was intentionally hard, hard enough to make the boy wince. Awkwardly, Daniele shifted position, coming to his knees in the process of getting up. He felt the plug shifting inside him, pressing into his tender rectum. He groaned. It felt huge, as if part of his body, somewhere behind his belly had been displaced several inches. It was like his thighs were two inches further apart, like his belly was being pushed out. The slightest movement rewarded him with a quick succession of cramps. His pelvis jerked involuntarily. Despite the pain that possessed him, he still wanted to move thrust back and forth. His sphincter clamped down and he stifled a groan. His breath was shallow, quick nervous gasps, released unevenly. The book in Dustin's store had not described the sensation, merely the mechanical process. He remained crouched on his bed, his buttocks lifted up. He did not see how he could possible stand and not hurt himself in the process.
The other boys could see the straps and the bulbous end of the plug. All of them wondered what it was like, at the same time relieved that they had not been selected to go first.
"It's already starting to feel better, isn't it Webster? Now, stand up," Hart instructed, standing up himself. "Let's see how you walk."
"Can't,..."
"Of course you can. Now stand before I have to ask your friends to drag you off your bed."
Hesitantly, Daniele eased towards the side of the bed. His sphincter compressed, closing down with resolute acceptance, and he trembled. He trembled because it had stopped hurting, because something inside him received a sharp jolt that made him want to cry out. He trembled because it felt so nice. Cautiously he placed his feet on the floor. Aaron nodded reassuringly, hopeful that his new friend was not hurting too much. Daniele smiled weakly. Sometime during the last minute the agony had faded to a dull ache. Except for that jolt, it was almost bearable. He stood up. Again the plug was repositioned, this time grinding into a region of his body that made his legs feel weak. He trembled as he stood up, bracing himself against the head of the bed. His anus pulled inward, fighting against the plug. For one terrible instant, Daniele thought the thing might be pulled entirely inside him. He was racked by a series of spasms that were centered between his buttocks. It was not painful, not any longer. He felt full, so full that explosion was imminent. His hips quaked of their own volition, creating the most intense feeling that he had ever known. It was the jolt again, but not one or two of them. Dozens of them, each enough to make his body jerk savagely. He gasped, instinctively struggling to escape, mimicking the sex act by trying to thrust his very-limp penis into a non-existent receptacle. He was shocked at his body's capacity for sensory stimulation. No wonder gay men had anal sex. Even though inserting his finger in his anus had felt good, he had been totally unaware of the possibilities for greater pleasure from that part of his body if the thing inside him was larger. The book said anal sex could feel nice, and so did Dustin, but he had never expected this. This,... this overpowering feeling, his pleasure so concentrated that it was painful in itself. And it was satisfying too, not at all like he had expected. He looked away to avoid the counselor's smirking face.
"Walk around Webster," Hart commanded.
Daniele took his first step. It rubbed inside him, sending yet another surge of cramps. How would he ever be able to walk again? He couldn't, not with this thing lodged inside him. Yet, he forced himself to totter across to Aaron's bed and back again. He was aware of everyone in the room looking at him. They were supportive, but many of them had always been on his side. Aaron nodded understandingly. Even Connor gave him a wry smile of encouragement.
"There," Daniele panted. "Satisfied now?" All he wanted to do was lie down and wait for the feelings to subside. It was all he could do to breath.
Hart glowered at him. "Keep walking pedo. Imagine you're a little boy who's just been,...." He barely managed to stop himself from saying `fucked'. "Screwed,... by some ass hole pedophile."
Daniele struggled back from Aaron's bed. He reached the middle of the room when Hart's finger caressed the transmitter button, turning it so that it was on a continuous pulse mode. For an instant, Daniele seemed not to notice the additional stimulation of his senses. He took one more step as a myriad tiny electric shocks flowed through his spine. Suddenly, his knees buckled and he toppled. For a few seconds he was able to retain enough control to glare at his tormentor. Hart shrugged dispassionately. Daniele's conditioning had begun in earnest. He watched as the boy's resistance was broken down, until he submitted. The stimulation of his nervous system was overwhelming, as it was intended to be. Daniele writhed on the floor, shamelessly nude, unable to stop himself from jerking and twisting. The thing inside him throbbed relentlessly, weakening him to the point of subhuman groaning within a matter of a minute.
Hart glanced around the room, silently inviting a response from the curious boys.
"What's happening to him?" Aaron asked nervously. He could see that Daniele wasn't hurting, at least not before, but the garbled pleadings, the frenzied jerking of his limbs, the savage thrusting of his hips against an invisible lover, all disturbed him.
"He's having an orgasm," Hart said matter-of-factly. "Probably his first. The first of many, not that it matters."
"Why are you doing this to him?" Aaron demanded angrily.
"So he'll turn into a faggot," Hart answered. "It'll happen to all of you sooner or later. In fact, you're next rich boy. Strip off."
He had a smile that frightened Aaron. As he removed his shorts and mandatory N.I.C.E. tee-shirt, Aaron watched Daniele shuddering in the center of the room, his body heaving in the throes of unrelenting ecstasy. Until then, the transmitter had always been used in intermittent mode, if not judiciously in Daniele's case. Now, its remarkable ability to stimulate the senses was revealed. Even Aaron was fascinated by what he saw. He watched Daniele's hands and feet scraping across the wooden floor, his body shaking, struggling uncontrollably with an unseen tormentor. His turn would come next. Despite his fear, he wanted to be in Daniele's position.
"You're lucky," Hart said as he dropped a package into Aaron's lap. "Your file says you get to start off with a pencil-plug."
On the surface, the package was identical to Daniele's, and it contained the same things inside, except for the size of the three plugs. Where Daniele had been ranked as `120', a `large', the nurse had specified the medium-sized training pack with a 90 millimeter plug as the maximum size for Aaron to use. It was the pack that Daniele was supposed to have started off with, working up to a `large' by the end of the first week. There was a 50 millimeter plug to begin with. With a diameter of just over half-an-inch, about the thickness of a boy's finger, or an average ten-year- old's penis, it would go in very easily. Even the next size could be inserted without too much difficulty.
It took a while to get the pack opened, for Aaron to assume the required arrangement on his bed, on his side with his knees to his chest, fetal position facing Daniele's bed so that his buttocks were exposed to the counselor.
"Now, I want you all to pay attention, because after tonight, I won't be doing this. You'll have to do yourselves. The small one always goes in first to loosen you up," Hart explained to the rest of the boys. He glanced around to make sure that he had their attention. The only boy who was not listening was Daniele.
"You're supposed to start off using the smallest one every time, but you really don't need to, not unless you haven't had anything in you butt for a day or two. Of course, that doesn't include ticklers."
"What's a tickler, Mr. Hart?"
Hart smiled at Connor. There was always one boy who tried to ingratiate himself. Sometimes, like now, it was as much from puppy love as a self-defense mechanism.
"You'll have to wait to tomorrow morning to find out. By then you'll be one happy camper Connor. You'll want to keep the plug instead, but we don't want you neuters to have bowel problems."
Already the boys seemed to have forgotten about Daniele, although a few of them, the boys who had come to admire the Eurasian boy, continued to watch him twitch and jerk fitfully. The orgasmic fervor has finally dissipated. Now, the sensory overload of the continuous stimulation of his nervous system was breaking him, awakening him to a habitual need, a conditioned response that, if not instinctive, would be just as demanding. He moaned loudly, making guttural sounds with the air from his lungs, but the words were too garbled for anyone to understand his pleas for mercy.
Hart shrugged. "Don't worry about him. He'll get over it. He'll be back to normal in a while, insofar as a pedo can be normal," he snickered. "Have you had enough, Webster?"
Daniele weakly raised his head. He was dazed, his vision blurred, yet he was conscious enough to give an affirmative nod. Hart released the lock-down switch, stopping the electric shocks momentarily. Daniele groaned in relief. His relief lasted only for a few seconds. Hart readjusted the switch to a lower setting and returned it to `continuous mode'. Daniele winced, opening his mouth to scream. All that came out was an exhausted whimper. He closed his eyes and gnawed on the side his hand, praying to a god he no longer believed in.
"Just so you all understand, and so none of you go running off to the nurse to tell her what I did, I used the `120' on Webster because I wanted to show you that it was possible to get a big one in right from the get go. Spread your butt cheeks, Aaron-inski," he instructed.
"My oh my," Hart teased. "You've got such a nice little Jewish hole. It's almost a pity to stick this in there, although it does look as if it's been used before. What about it? Have you been sticking one of those candles in here. What do they call them? Menorah?"
He rubbed the pointed end of the little plug up and down the boy's exposed crevice several times. Despite the dryness, Aaron still tried to back onto it with a forceful push.
"Yeah, you like that, don't you Aaron? I can tell you've done this before. You want this in your ass so much because you know it'll feel even better once it's inside, don't you?"
Finally, after Aaron fingers had turned pale from the effort of parting his buttocks, Hart lifted it away and applied the lubricating gel that was included in the pack. A quick squirt from the aerosol can and he was ready to begin. Unlike Daniele who had suffered through a difficult and prolonged penetration, all it took was a quick jab and the plug was more than halfway inside the second boy. Aaron gasped in surprise, surprise because there had been no warning. He was accustomed to the feeling.
He closed his eyes and held his breath. Voluntarily relaxing the muscle, his father had called it. He could hear his father's voice, warm, endearing, understanding. `Whatever you do, don't force it in.' `Take your time'. `Make yourself relax back there'. It seemed so long ago, not just a month ago.
His father had discovered him in the basement, the plug half-in, half-out, his hand stroking a partially stiff penis as he studiously endeavored to return it to its erect state. The magazines, at least a dozen of them, were spread out around him. At the top of the stairs, his Jack Russell Terrier kept up a constant whining as if he knew something was going on down in the dark basement. The dog hated going down the stairs, although going up was never a problem.
He had been embarrassed at first. Filled with shame, as much because his father had seen him naked, as from what he had been doing when he had been discovered. There were no recriminations. His face had been hot, crimson colored, and he had wanted the earth to open up and swallow him in an fitting finale, yet his father had smiled appreciatively. His father had even said that he, Aaron Kalmann, was `as sexy as any of the boys in the magazines.' He did not think he was `sexy'. His father had hugged him while they talked. Mostly, his father talked, until Aaron realized that he could talk to his father about the things that had been bothering him for the last couple of years.
"He's taking it like a real pro," Hart observed. "I want you boys to notice how his butt is pushing back? That's a good sign he's ready for something even bigger," he added sarcastically. "By the time he goes home he'll be using a baseball bat."
Aaron's sphincter tightened, drawing his plug in even further. It was about the same thickness as the plastic toy-rocket that he normally used. However, the plug was able to bend and the surface was soft and rubbery instead of being hard and shiny. It felt very much like the real thing. It was easy for him to imagine it was a young boy's penis. Aaron sighed, enjoying the delectable sensation as it slid deeper. It bottomed out within easy reach of his prostate. Aaron clamped his knees together, tightening his abdominal muscles at the same time as he used his sphincter muscle to lift it higher. He was used to doing that, pushing it in slowly and then moving it back and forth until he could not stand it, until he shuddered uncontrollably. He sighed before he realized what he was doing. The sensation was even nicer than his father's butt-plug if only because it was thinner. Hart inserted it until all that remained was the knob on the end. He deftly fastened the straps, noting with amusement how the boy's hips kept undulating, working with and then against the plug that was buried inside his rectum.
"Nice, isn't it, Aaron?" he asked disingenuously.
Aaron nodded slightly, wondering when Hart would use his transmitter button. He hated the electric shocks although he had yet to experience anything even close to the agony of his friend.
"It's a pity your friend Webster couldn't start small and work his way up to the big one. He'll be lucky if he doesn't get constipation for a week," Hart joked. "Then, he'll have to demonstrate how a boy gives himself an enema. Okay, Aaron, get up and walk around.... How does it feel?" he asked as Aaron took his first tentative steps.
"Okay,.... I can feel it moving around."
"Yeah, I bet you can. Nice huh?"
"Uh huh. Strange,.... But yeah, it's nice." Aaron glanced guiltily at Daniele.
During the last few minutes, Daniele had managed to clamber onto his bed. He clasped his pillow to his chest, hugging it in an effort to attain some solace from the continuous pulses that pounded through his body and drained his strength. He would never be the same again. He wondered vaguely if he would ever be able to swim. It seemed unlikely given that his muscles had turned to Jello. It was as if the plug was vibrating inside him, stretching his anus impossibly wide. He was beyond caring. All he wanted to do was go to sleep and never wake up again.