Date: Sun, 06 Feb 2011 20:37:17 -0800
From: marianasdeep3@hushmail.com
Subject: Fast Cash Stripper (Part 7:  Soliloquy)

Thanks to Tee and MacFan for some ideas,and for confirming where to
go with this ... our hero's self discovery of his love for cock and
the power of his beauty, in this and two more planned installments.

Part VII:  Soliloquy

"I've been getting it up my boycunt?" I thought to myself about
Carlito's last comment, when I was finally alone in the room, "Well
if that's what my asshole is, it sure aches now."  I had just had a
session where I took two cocks up my butt.  While the first one
fucked me, a fat cock that opened me wider than I thought possible,
I was made to give a blowjob to the other one, only to have it too
enter my ass.  These were my second and third fucks of the night,
and the second and third time I had ever been fucked in my life.  I
was lying on my back now, having just rolled my legs back flat on
the bed.  I looked at the little pool of my own cum near my navel,
an orgasm just from having been fucked, rolled up on my back.

I negotiated my legs to the floor and stood up, instantly stooping
from the soreness in my ass.  I walked out of the room with wide
steps.  The hall was a commotion of boys almost ready for the next
dance.  My session had run late, upon the orders of my last fuck,
Mr. Carlito, one of Vegas' leading mob bosses, and who, as I was
figuring out, sorta commanded this place when he was around.  Half
the boys were in basketball shoes, shorts, and divided shirts and
skins ... and half, the pussies, were in cheerleader skirts.
Scooter found me and ushered me quickly into the locker room so I
could get dressed to join them.  He handed me a skirt.

"Scooter, no.  Not like that." I said.

"We don't have time to discuss it."

"No!" I insisted.  He relented and threw me a pair of shorts,
instructing, "Put your string on, then these on under them."  They
were underwear ... but frilly girl's underwear.  This was a
compromise, I guessed, so I complied, then waited for a shirt.  He
added, "no shirt, you're skins."

When we went out, the back of the stage was lit, with two hoops
stage left and right; the front of the stage was unlit.  The 5
cheerleaders sat toward the back of the stage, cheering on a game.
3 shirts were playing 3 skins, while I played the part of a skins
benchwarmer sitting off to the side.  When "the game" ended, the
back of the stage went dark and the front was lit up.  It was only
then I noticed 6 beds near the audience.  They were not so much
beds as low lying massage tables.

Five basketball players were paired with a cheerleader, the 6th,
Steve, was paired with me.  The pairs held each other, faces
together in a faux kiss, the basketball player stripping off the
clothing of the cheerleader while stripping themselves, Steve
stripping me.  Then the last article of clothing went off, the
shorts or skirt.  The pussy cheerleaders were in frilly underwear
... I was too, humiliated again ... and the basketball players were
in jockstraps!

That was slightly illegal.  The jock's straps went around each leg
in back instead of going up the crack, leaving their assholes
exposed, against the law, but the law seemed stupid to me.  There
was not much difference between a jockstrap and a string, in fact
the string was much skimpier.  I guess the evening was getting
late, and the rules were slackening.  Soon we were in close embrace
... and slowly lying back onto the bed.  It wasn't long before the
frilly underwear was gone, and we were all paired in jocks and
strings, lying arm and arm on the beds.  I held Steve's chest
against mine, and for the first time, felt the sensuous warmth of a
body chest-to-chest, Steve feeling my ass while lying on top of me.
 I reached around and grabbed his, BARE!  I instantly got hard.
Then I noticed he was too, and I was sent into heaven.  The rest of
the dance was re-familiarizing myself with all the positions I had
been in that night:  on all fours, with Steve and his hard cock
behind me, rubbing my ass through his jock in a faux fuck; me
between his legs while he was on his back, mouth on his bulge in a
faux blowjob; him on top of me on my back, receiving a faux fuck,
chest-to-chest, my legs around his back, then rolled up, my knees
around his shoulders, receiving another faux fuck while he
supported himself on the backs of my legs.  By the time the dance
ended, my pouch was soaked with precum.  I absolutely had to bust a
nut.  "Please, could I do it now, WITH STEVE?" I was pleading in my
brain, "No," of course was the answer.  I came off the stage,
forlorn and in a lustful daze.

"I had this one begging for it last time," referring to me, "Let
him have a session with Mr. O'Connor."  It was Carlito, evidently
running the place.  Following instructions, soon Scooter had my arm
and was leading me to my 4th fuck.

"Scooter, I don't think I can get fucked again.  Not like the last
time ..." I said protesting while being led along.  While I wanted
to get off, my ass was just too sore to receive another fuck from
yet another cock.

"This won't be like last time," he said, opening the door and
leaving me inside.

I stood there by the door, not wanting to be on that bed again.
Mr. O'Connor soon came in, stood next to me, and just looked at me
for awhile, then finally spoke.

"Three fucks later, and you still look like an innocent angel," he
sighed, then complimented, "You're beautiful."

"I really don't think I can get fucked again," I said, half
pleading, "Would you take a blowjob? ... or better yet, give me
one?"

"Would you like to give me a blowjob?" O'Connor said, sitting on
the bed, me still standing.  He took my silence as "no."

"Listen sweetie, we're definitely going to fuck, it's what I want,"
he said, noticing my reluctance, "but we're both going to get off.
And we're going to do it YOUR way."

When he saw I didn't understand, he added, "I love it when boys get
themselves off on my cock."  When I still didn't get it, he lost
his pants and laid back on the bed, "Come here and get me hard with
that pretty face of yours."

I interpreted that, correctly, as instructions to give him a
blowjob.  This time, though, he was in the middle of the bed, not
on the edge, like the first blowjobs I had ever given before, where
I knelt on the floor between their legs to access the cock.  This
time, I had to climb onto the bed, going over his legs.

"Let's lose this first," he said, removing my string.  Then he
grabbed my hard cock, rubbing it sensuously.  I started to moan.
"That's it baby, come on and suck my cock."  He cupped my balls
while continuing to stroke me, pulling me in sensuously, not
forcibly, my chest now lying on his knees, my face at his cock.  I
looked up to see his chest, and a smile on the face beyond.  I took
him in, while he gently rubbed my face, my hair, my neck, my
shoulders with his hands.  His cock was clean, he had actually just
taken a shower in the locker room, soap slightly mixed into his
masculine scents.  No sweat on the cock, just the pasty hormones.
I couldn't believe it, I was actually enjoying this.  I started
imagining it was Steve's cock in our last dance, and I was building
fast to an orgasm, my moans increasing.  He could tell.

"O.K., that's enough for now."  When I pulled off, his cock was
slimed with a mix of my saliva and his precum, strands leading from
it to my mouth.  "Turn around and straddle my chest...," and after I
complied, "Back up and lean forward."  I backed up so my butt was
over his head and leaned my face forward toward his cock.  He
buried his face in my crack, licking my hole, sucking my cock in,
backing off when he knew I building.  Without being asked, I took
in his cock.  I was in my first ever 69.

I was going crazy, about to bust a nut.  He could tell, "OK, keep
kneeling, but sit up," and when I complied, "Move forward, and lean
towards my toes, but stay on your knees."  The position put my ass
hovering over his cock.  I felt his hand running the length of my
crack, then suddenly felt lube slopped on my asshole, his cock at
my doorway.

"No, please no." I pleaded.  Then slightly sobbing because I knew I
didn't have either a say or control over the situation, I pleaded
for his mercy, "My ass is too sore."

"Sweetie, this is about YOU.  You're going to fuck yourself on my
cock, YOU'RE in control.  Take it as you can ...," then pulling my
hips down slightly, not forcibly but to show me how, "Sit back."
With his cock already aimed, sitting back made it penetrate.  Sore
at first, I paused, let my sphincter get use to it ... and
surprisingly, I wasn't forced down, just encourage to sit down,
slowly ... when I was ready, only as much as I wanted each time,
then more, only when I was ready again... then more.  I felt the
cock entering my ass.  Then I felt his pubic hair tickling my butt
cheeks.  I was sitting on his pelvic bone, and I knew I had taken
his cock all the way up my ass.

"Now bounce, slowly ... rock back and forth."  As I slowly rocked,
I felt stimulated.  I grabbed my own cock to amplify the
stimulation.  "Baby, this position is the easiest to take a cock
when YOU control it.  It's aimed to go right up your butt."  Soon I
was bouncing, almost frantically, trying to get off.  Then I heard
him say, slightly laughing for me to get the joke of it, "Yeah
baby, ride the pony."  My bouncing and moaning continued, every
once in a while, he gave me a hip thrust, hurting slightly, the
only thing I didn't control.

Then he stopped me, catching my butt in his hand when I was at the
top of his cock coming back down.  "Get off and turn around."  I
complied, straddling his navel.  "Kid, this next position hurts a
little more, at least getting started.  My cock won't be aimed
right up your chute ..." and as I looked at him with a `why then?'
on my face, he added, "But the top of my cock will be on your
walnut."  I looked confused, and asked, "My walnut?"

"Your prostrate, kid ... orgasm central," he responded, again
grabbing my hips to set me down on his cock, but again only to
instruct.  When I sat back, sure enough, it hurt a little going in,
but then his cock flexed back and found the easy path up.  As the
top of his cock slid up along my prostrate, a "zing" went to my
head, a lustful sensation.  Soon we were bouncing again.  He took
over stroking my cock.

My bouncing became frantic, moaning.  Each entrance and exit of the
cock was rubbing my cum center.  He was stroking my cock with one
hand ... and rubbing my chest, abdomen, and tits with the other,
occasionally slightly pinching a nipple.  Sometimes he would cup my
butt, helping me lift off and set down.  I couldn't hold out
anymore ... I moaned out loud and shot my load.  It was such a
blast that the first pulse fired over his head, two more on his
face, two more across his chest, then several spurts dribbling a
puddle of cum on his navel.  Each spasm was sucking his cock with
my asshole.  I was done, completely spent.

He wasn't quite.  The only part I didn't control, his hip
thrusting, was increasing, intensely.  I was starting to hurt,
losing the enjoyment, wincing a bit.  But then he grabbed my hips,
pulled me down, and stopped.  Pushed me up, then down and stopped.
Then rocking and bouncing, with a pause after each one.  I was
receiving my fourth fuck of the night, knew I was filling with yet
another load of cum up my ass.  When he finished, I could feel part
of it running down my leg.

When he knew I was his, when I knew I had been fucked again, he
grabbed my back and pulled me in, face to face.  Leaning forward,
his cock left my asshole, a dribble of cum leaving it onto his
thighs and the bed.  He gave me a slight kiss on the lips, then
laid me flat on top of him, chest to chest, my head turned to the
side, ear resting on his upper chest.  He was rubbing my back, one
stroke up and down my spine, occasionally resting while cupping my
butt, the other hand on my shoulder blades.  Warmth.  "That's it
baby ... that's it baby, just relax."  I fell asleep, listening to
his breathing and his heartbeat, the last I heard was his slight
sobbing, "still just a little boy."

There was a knock on the door.  I only slightly heard it, I rather
awoke to O'Connor's gentle prodding.  "Come on sweetie, wake up."
When I awoke, he gave me a long hug.  "Time to show us that
beautiful body again."  With that, he slightly spanked my butt.  I
got up, rubbing my eyes.  He walked me over to the door holding my
hand.  I was still nude, but he opened the door anyway.

"My string!" I said, attempting to go back inside.

"You won't need it, kid." O'Connor said.  Then I heard Carlito in
the hall.

"I want The Gauntlet now," he commanded, rounding up the boys in
the hall, most just in their underwear, "only this time, lose the
whities.  I want this dance to be nude."

Then I heard Paul, Scooter's uncle, in the hall, "Carlito, that's
illegal."

"Ask me if I give a shit.  I told that pig Edison to leave and to
take his sty with him."

Paul responded, "Carlito, that's only the local police.  What if
there's FBI?"

Carlito responded angrily, not just at Paul but at every adult, and
boy, in the room, "Has everyone here forgotten how much of a poof
J. Hoover was?  I've got enough dirt on those bastards to last a
hundred years!"

And with that, we were lining up nude.  The most striking visual
was of all the tan lines between copper backs and legs; and tight
white butts, cocks, hips, and upper thighs.  The white flashed an
absurd innocence, some short-length from shorts, some tight to the
crotch and butt from a Speedo, but all lily white, as if to say
exposed nudity was such an indulgence, after so many of these butts
had been fucked, so many of these cocks had been sucked, and so
many of these bellies were full of cum.

The next dance wasn't a dance at all.  The "gauntlet" was formed of
rows of the audience, facing each other.  And we were to walk nude
in between them.  We each had a clothed, adult escort lead us
through the gauntlet, clothed because they were not the object of
the crowd's desire, we were, but they had to be along to assure our
safety.  None of the crowd was allowed to go "too far," but "too
far" didn't mean much; it only meant not having us submit to forced
sex, or perhaps not having our balls squeezed too hard.  Everything
else was on the table.  When it was my turn to go through, I felt
my cock grabbed and rubbed, my balls fondled, sometimes even
painfully, my ass pinched, my crack massaged, my asshole penetrated
by fingers, my tits twisted, my chest and abdomen rubbed ... all at
once, and continuously, hundreds of hands reaching in as I went
down the line.  My escort was leading me, taking cash for the
opportunity to feel me, occasionally freeing me from an over-
zealous hand.  Cocks were out too, rubbing my thigh, cum was
squirting on my thigh, my ass, occasionally firing across the
gauntlet.  I was made hard, occasionally a mouth allowed to settle
on my cock, sucking, but never given enough time to get my load.  I
was once again an object, but I learned to ignore it, thinking
about the sensuous sex I had just had previously with Mr. O'Connor,
ending in the biggest orgasm of my life.  I had no more load to
give this gang anyway, even if anyone of them were given enough
time to hang or slurp onto my cock.

I watched my fellow boys go through too.  Some were humiliated.
Some were aroused enough to cum, the sperm never reaching the floor
as it was licked off their boy cocks and legs.  But most had that
look like mine, like they just didn't care, couldn't care after an
evening of having been fucked repeatedly.  To my surprise, I was
led through again, eventually realizing we were all to be led
through 4 or 5 times.  Then it was over, my last dance over, and we
were soon leaving the stage.