This is a fictional story dealing with love and consensual sexual activities between males. If you are not of legal age, reside in an area

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As with my other works, this is not a get to it quick kinda story with just nonstop sex. Although the sexual situations are very intense and pleasing, they are not the focus of the story. So, if you are looking for a wham-bam-kinda story...this isn't for you. All others ...enjoy!

It's been awhile but I am finally ready to pen some new tales for your enjoyment.

Thank you to all of the fans of my stories who have continued to

write me over the last three years while I traveled.

This one's for you...



Higher Learning

Chapter I ~ The Teacher

You need to understand something up front, and please do try to keep it in mind as we continue... I am not, a good man.

I love the way his ass looks when he spreads it for me, knowing that I'm watching, He's learned so much in the past 18 months since I began his training. When he first arrived he was clumsy, shy, and a mess. Now, he was sleek, confident, and one of the hottest fucks in his group—or any other group for that matter. He had been reluctant at first but after some coddling and gentle guidance he took to my teachings with a devout hunger. He was now my star pupil and ready to be set on his way to become the property of his new owner. But tonight, he was all mine.

“You look sad my young student,” I caressed his sullen face with my eyes as he turned to me ending his little show.

“Tonight is our last lesson Sir,” he stood firmly at the entrance to my room, even in his sadness he maintained discipline. He was a fine student indeed.

“Yes my little one,” I made my way over to him and held his small chin in the palm of my hand, “you are ready to join the others and show off all of your skills serving the client who has sponsored you.”

“I know Sir, and I am excited to serve, I truly am,” he looked up into my eyes bearing his tender soul to me, “I just....I just...part of me just doesn't want to leave you Sir.”

“My little one,” I smiled as I bent down and kissed his sweet mouth, his soft lips parting to let my tongue massage his just as I had taught him. He cooed as our tongues danced gently.

I broke our kiss and led my apt pupil to my bed. I pulled him onto the soft linen covered mattress with me him drew him into a warm embrace.

“Now then my hot little fuck slave,” I snapped back into my teacher role, “it is time for your final lesson. Tonight you will show me all that you have learned. Tonight you will show me every pleasure I desire.”

“It is my honor to please you Sir.”

I hear a lot of people say that they love their job. For some reason or another each time I hear it I can't help but get a cynical grin on my face as I rest secure in my inner belief that it just isn't humanly possible for anyone to love their job as much as I do mine. What do I do you ask? Well, I'm a teacher. No, not that kind of teacher...hardly... I am a special teacher. What do I teach, you ask? I teach young boys how to use their whole bodies to please the filthy desires of men who can afford to experience the fruits of my labor. There's more to it, but that's the best part.

My name is simply, Teacher, and I am the owner and head Instructor at an exclusive training facility for boy slaves. My business has made me an extremely wealthy man. My main focus is to ensure that my client's are well taken care of and that their slaves are trained to their exact specification. Each boy, when ready, will become the personal slave of the man or men who paid for his procurement and training. It was the perfect business for a man of my talents.

I had started off my career as a personal Attaché for a power broker in Japan. It was there that I started my journey into the world of understanding how to identify the needs of powerful men and how to fulfill them. My world travels exposed me to sights and lifestyles that I wouldn't have been able to imagine in my wildest of dreams. I quickly learned that nothing was what it seemed on the surface and that everyone was capable of depravities that would boggle the mind were they given the freedom to experience them. After a short time, nothing held shock for me and I quickly learned how to find out the secret tastes of all men.

I was well trained by my master in every art and science. A student of life and culture I was cultivated and sculpted into an elite assistant capable of serving the needs of my master both during the day, and in the dark shadows of the night. Above all other lessons handed down by me master was the strict discipline of complete discretion. Keeping my master's secrets was essential and I quickly learned that the ability to be trusted by my master would grant me access into realms in this world I could have only imagined.

As the years passed and I evolved into a young man, my master set me free to seek my own place in this world. I traveled the four corners of the globe continuing my education and began to make my own mark in the business of power. Through the connections I had made growing up with my master I quickly networked myself in with some of the most powerful men in the world. I spent the first few years of my adulthood as somewhat of a seeker of fine things for the elite. From rare gems and fine wines to lands and one of kind lost art, I made a name for myself as the man who could get things that no one else could, and always, above all, keep the confidence of my employers—since most of the real business that goes on throughout the world happens behind closed doors where laws and ethics don't serve any real purpose, this talent was especially well rewarded.

It was on an occasion such as this that I first got the request that would change my life forever. I was in Prague at the time, middle-manning an art deal between a former Soviet military official and a German collector when I received a call in my hotel suite. Gustaf, the German collector had a very unique favor to ask of me, one that he needed to speak to me about in private once the trade had happened. I agreed, and the next day, just a few hours after the final pieces were in place and the goods and monies exchanged, I heard a rap on my suite door and knew the Gustaf was still in need of my services.

“ This is difficult to ask my friend,” he coughed slightly into gloved hand as he nervously eyed me, “but I know that you can be trusted”

“Of course Gustaf,” I handed the aged man a glass of fine Brandy, “whatever it is I will do my best to get it done for you”

He went on to explain to me that he was very ill and did not have long left to get all of his affairs in order. He went on to detail for me time spent during the war in which he was a high ranking officer in the SS party. He waited for me to cringe or show the global distaste for his confessed connection to the Nazi's, and while I must admit I did harbor some disdain for his kind and the horrors they had committed, I held firm to my training and remembered that business was business and my own feelings were irrelevant. Upon seeing my lack of response he continued to tell me a story of how he had set up in a town just outside of Prague during the early days of the war. He went on to tell of how he had come to rescue a young Jewish boy and actually had kept him by his side and safe throughout the entire war by parading him about as one of the HJ assigned to study from him. While he was an officer, he was also an art professor at Oxford for many years before war tore the Continent apart. He told of how the boy had begun as his student but had become his lover over time. At first he thought that the boy only took to his teachings on the pleasures of the flesh out of a sense of duty since he had rescued him, but in time he learned that the boy loved him dearly and the passion they shared.

By the time he had finished my mind was racing. I remembered how my master had taken me in and taught me the same things about life, business, and the art of sex between a man and a boy. I accepted the challenge to find a local boy willing to be the old man's last lover and set about making it happen. Gustaf had been particular about the boy he sought saying that he would like a boy of 10 or 11 of stocky build, preferably Jewish or at least circumcised and definitely a virgin---the last part would make this request a hard one to fill. But, like many things, it was actually easier than I had anticipated. Finding the men who ran the local sex trade was never difficult for a person with my connections and training. Within a few hours I was being led down a dark hallway to a sub basement of a local orphanage where I was greeted by two burly men who appeared Russian by decent. We exchanged words and opening monies and soon I was standing in front of a line of young boys, each fitting the description I had given my contact. After closely inspecting them I reduced the initial group of ten boys down to three. All three of the remaining boys were observed to be disease free, at least on the surface—although I imagined that since Gustaf knew he was dying anyway that he wouldn't care if the boy had AIDS or not. I was torn between two of the boys but settled finally on a boy named Cyrek.

Cyrek was sold to me outright for just over $100k American with fully legitimate papers. Forget what you may think you know about the underground human is just that easy for the right price, in the right place. I took possession of the boy and was escorted back to my hotel. Gustaf would not be in for a few hours so I had an opportunity to get to know Cyrek and prep him for what he was about to experience. He was a sweet boy, a little clumsy and definitely awkward in conversation, but he had an innocence about him that caught my eye. As I explained what had and was going to be happening he became noticeably anxious.

“Is he going to hurt me?” a fair question I felt.

“I don't think so,” I wasn't really attempting to calm his fears, I just didn't really think that Gustaf intended on doing the young boy any real harm.

“But I don't know how to do sex Sir,” he looked more anxious, “I know others in the orphanage who do sex for some money, but I have never been taken to do so because I am a fat child Sir.”

“Does having sex with a grown man scare you Cyrek?” I poured the boy a shot of vodka.

“Yes Sir,” he quickly responded.

“Why?” I handed him the vodka and he stared at it, then me, then downed the liquid as if it held some sort of redemption.

His answer was what I expected it would be, an amalgamation of religiosity and anti-gay rhetoric that he had been spoon fed by the other boys and the adults at the orphanage. When I pressed him further he relented that he really didn't know why he was scared, then he admitted that he had no real problem being with a man but that he was afraid that he wouldn't know what to do. He said that other boys in the orphanage that went out to “do sex” with the men who paid the Russians would often times come home with bruises and sometimes even broken limbs because they had done something “wrong while doing sex”.

I gave him another shot of vodka and he seemed to relax somewhat. Still another two hours until Gustaf would be here so I decided to use the time to help Cyrek prepare. I led him into the bathroom and ran us both a bath. He didn't even flinch when I moved towards him and began to remove his clothes. His skin was a fair white which made his blue eyes glow. He had full cheeks which surrounded a small mouth who's opening was adequately protected by two full lips. He had dirt on his face, something which I would remedy shortly and his hair, though short, was tattered a bit, an obvious indication that the boys only got to bathe weekly.

He had a stocky frame but not what I would call necessarily “fat”. He had small nipples that were just a little darker than his skin but they sat wonderfully atop two supple boy tits. His tummy was mostly baby fat that he would lose soon enough but for now it was actually turning me on immensely. He placed his hands on my shoulders as I lowered his pants to the floor. As I looked up I was met with a perfect view of the most adorable little cut boy morsel I had ever seen. He had about 2 inches of soft cocklette to display, laying atop a small sac wrinkled up snuggly to his body.

“You have a fine body Cyrek,” I smiled as I ran my hands all over him, inspecting his muscles and bone structure. I ran my hand over his tiny prick and took it between my thumb and first two fingers without any need of his permission. He gave a nervous grunt as I stroked him a couple of times but made no attempt to draw back or move my hands away from his stiffening meat. I stopped abruptly and let his now rigid pricklette slap up against his tummy as I rose to my feet again and stood before him. I pointed to my belt buckle and he immediately took the cue and moved towards me, taking the buckle into his hands and working it loose. I remember thinking that he would make a fine student as he need know further guidance to complete his mission and lower my pants to the floor so I could step out of them. I wore no undergarment so he immediately locked his stare onto my strengthening meat. I am not going to foolishly lie to you and assault your intelligence with tales of my giant manhood—in reality my penis is quite standard in length and thickness but never faltering of it's responsibilities when it came time to seek pleasure.

As my master had once started me out, I took Cyrek with me into the giant bathtub and gave him a quick course in man boy love. While I knew that I couldn't dare take his sweet virginity, not for lack of wanting, I did take my time showing him just how to use his hands and mouth to care for a man's swollen member. Cyrek was no professional and even after several redirections he managed to leave several small teeth marks on my cock. No matter, I thought, his enthusiasm and willingness to allow me to school him endeared him to me.

A thorough cleansing and another attempt at fellatio and he was ready to be given up to the man who had purchased his life from the orphanage.

Gustaf smiled widely at the boy first and then at me as he entered the suite. We spoke shortly and then he and Cyrek took their leave of me. So that there would be no problems I allowed them to use my suite and I left to spend the evening out. I walked out of the room and down the hallway passed Gustaf's security detail and around the corner to the bank of elevators. I struggled with my own thoughts as entered the elevator and rode it to the lobby. Once there I only was able to take three steps before I turned around and took another elevator up to the floor just beneath mine. A quick use of a different keycard and I was in a smaller suite, my back up suite to be used while Gustaf was in mine. He had offered me the use of his but I could think of nothing I wanted to do less than spend the evening making small talk with Gustaf's assistants---too beneath me.

I sat on the bed and then leaned over to a flight case on the floor retrieving a laptop from within. I raised the lid and placed my thumb on the scanner giving me access to the machine. I had placed wireless cams in each of the rooms of my suite and now watched the glowing 21” screen of my laptop as Gustaf led Cyrek to the master bedroom and removed both of their clothes. I had expected him to spend time with the boy wining and dining hmi before he ravaged his body but I guess Gustaf didn't feel that he needed to.

Gustaf laid the young boy down on the bed and then took his place beside him. He ran his right hand along the boy's plump body as Cyrek laid flat on his back with his legs opened bent at the knees. Gustaf was mouthing words to the boy and I assumed that it was calming and warm sentiments as Cyrek's face relaxed and his body sunk passively into the large mattress. I zoomed in tightely on Cyrek's tender face and watched for signs of distress but found only relaxation and the budding glimpses of pleasure. I wondered to myself if Gustaf had given the boy something to help him relax. The old man leaned over and took a sweet boy nipple into his mouth and I saw Cyrek bite his lower lip as Gustaf began flicking his tongue over the soft skin until it was taut and hungry for attention. Cyrek panted as his flesh was passionately attacked, an explosion of new feelings spreading like a wild fire all over his virgin body. Gustaf continued his assault on the boy's swollen tits as he gripped the young child's cocklette in his right hand. The boy grabbed at the old man's body as his little dick was wisely stroked to a straining fullness. Gustaf maintained a steady rhythm as he sucked the boy's tit and stroked his hot young cock. Cyrek writhed beneath the power of the experienced lover on top of him and gave into his first dry climax of the evening. I watched in amazement as the tiny cock violently spasmed under the force of the boy's first cum with a man for I had only let him practice his technique on my tool, never returning the favor.

Gustaf slid down the bed and then lifted one of the boy's meaty legs over his gray covered head, settling snuggly between the boys sweating thighs. I thought that Cyrek was going to leave his skin when Gustaf first darted his skilled tongue over the wrinkled boy sac just below the still jerking cocklette. Learning quickly from the pleasure he had just received, the novice child began tweaking his own tiny nipples as Gustaf brought the boy's smoldering prick into his wet mouth. I remembered my first time having a man's talented lips close around my juvenile meat—such a surge of raw lust came over me and I immediately saw the world differently with my open eyes. Cyrek had much the same look on his face as the old man worked him into a sexual lather. Gustaf started out slowly but soon he was pistoning the young child's cock into his hungry mouth, kneading the boy's ample ass with both hands as he worked. Cyrek's mouth flew open and I knew that he was screaming out in agonizing pleasure as his body was rocked by another powerful orgasm. Gustaf just kept up his attack on the boy's tender tool as he came back down from his high only to stiffen his prick again and ride the old man's face to a quick and third cum. The chubby boy's eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out.

As he slept off his powerful trio of first orgasms, Gustaf took the opportunity to prepare the boy's virgin hole for its deflowering. Safe in his slumber Cyrek was oblivious to the old man's tongu at his backdoor and then the intrusion of his slender fingers into the child's most private of places. I thought that it would have been a good idea for me to give the boy an enema when I had the chance, but I wasn't thinking that far ahead at the time. Gustaf got up and left the room. I tracked him by the cams and saw him go into a bag he had brought and come back to the bed with a bag and hose—I guessed he had thought ahead. He expertly worked the nozzle into the boy and pumped him full of liquid without the stirring the young lover at all. After a moment he released the valve and the boy's holdings flooded out of him through the same tube into a waiting bucket on the floor. Gustaf cleaned the boy's bottom of the residual liquid and then removed the tools from the room. When he returned he took hold of the boy's legs again and opened them to reveal his freshly cleaned boy cunt. He lubed up his fingers and worked them in and out of the boy until he had spread him three fingers wide. He then greased up a plug and slowly inserted it into the sleeping child.

Gustaf gently brought the boy from his sleep by petting his hair and kissing his face. The boy momentarily looked scared, not remembering his surroundings, but quickly calmed as he melted into the arms of the wise old lover. I watched them converse briefly and imagined that Gustaf was explaining why the boy had fallen asleep after his powerful orgasms. Gustaf then explained what the boy was sensing filling up his tender hole. Cyrek winced somewhat as the old man twisted th plug inside of him but soon relaxed and then began to look even like he was giving into the pleasure created by the device. Gustaf took his old prick in his hand and stroked it slowly. He moved over on the bed and laid down on his back, inviting the boy over to him. Cyrek quickly understood what was to come next and took the old man's member into his young mouth without hesitation. I could tell by the look on Cyrek's face that he did not enjoy the old man's prick nearly as much as he had mine. But the young lover made the best of his current task and soon the old man was pumping his hard cock into Cyrek's throat. The pair kept up their rhythm for a good 15 minutes until the old man reached up and grabbed hard to the boy's head and released his slippery seed into his young gullet. Cyrek struggled on the bed as the old man forced him to remain impaled on the pumping cock and I could tell he was not liking this at all. I felt for him for a moment but then reconciled myself with the simple knowledge that he had been purchased at a high price for a reason and this was it.

After a few more moments Cyrek was released from the old man's clutches and he fell onto his back on the giant bed. Gustaf rolled over and off of the bed then stretched and turned back to gaze over the fresh meat laying prone before him. He cooed as he walked around the bed and eyed the recovering child. I wondered if he would be able to go on any longer but then to my surprise I noticed his old cock sticking straight out from his worn body. Fuckin' Viagra...

Cyrek nodded as Gustaf gave him instructions and soon he was laying on his side with his legs pulled up ever so slightly. I watched in anticipation as Gustaf positioned himself behind the young boy and then as he removed the butt plug. A small squirt of liquid spilled from the boy's gaping cunt but was quickly scooped up by the old man's stiff cock and then shoved back inside of the virgin hole as the cock began its assault. I watched as Cyrek's face contorted as his body was invaded. I remembered that feeling well... no matter how much prep work is done, the first time always feels like your body is being ripped in two. Soon it was over and Gustaf was in the boy's hot, wet ass balls deep. Cyrek's face relaxed and went somewhat flat as the old man began slow fucking him. The old man had what I guessed was about 7 inches of uncut German wood and he was using every last piece of it to pleasure himself. He grabbed the boy's hips and began rabbit fucking him. Cyrek cried out but to me it was silent. In an attempt to make it somewhat more enjoyable for the impaled child, Gustaf brought the boy's hand to his own stiff little cock and told him to masturbate while he fucked him. Cyrek complied and soon was lost in the ecstasy of pumping his tiny cock as his prostate was assaulted. Cyrek fell quickly into his first orgasm and I watched as his body racked with pleasure. I lost count after his fourth dry explosion and then watched as he he slipped out of consciousness as the old man continued to fucked him like it was to be his last night on Earth. He flung his head back in orgasm and filled the boy's ravaged tunnel with his cum as his body shook. The limp boy lay sleeping next to the old man as his hole became the last that would ever receive Gustaf's life seed. Gustaf stayed in the boy as he laid his head on the pillow in exhaustion. After a moment he looked over to the door and nodded. A large security guard cam over and stood by his side. Gustaf nodded again and then leaned his head into the boy, kissing him repeatedly. The guard drew a syringe from his pocket, tapped out the excess air and then injected the contents into the arm of his employer. Gustaf drifted off to sleep inside the boy—he would not be waking up.

I went somewhat numb as I pieced together the old man's plans. I watched the monitor as more guards came into the room and the old man was separated from the boy and taken away. The boy was cleaned up and left sleeping on the bed. I saw one guard pick up his cell phone and dial. My cell went off causing me to jump and curse my anxious form. I gathered myself and answered.

Back in the room I was greeted by two of Gustaf's aides. They explained the situation to me by simply stating that Gustaf had left and that he had said that I was to decide what became of the boy. The aides explained that if I wished to keep him I could, or if I didn't they would simply go make sure he never woke up. I said that I would of course keep him, for what I was not sure but I certainly didn't want to be responsible for his death. I was given an envelope and then was left in the room alone---well not alone, the sleeping boy still unaware of what had occurred.

I opened the envelope and read it's contents. Gustaf thanked me for making his life complete and told me that he had left me the deed to his estates in the Islands. Sweet, I thought as I remembered loving the place the one time I had been there. He also left me a cheque for 10 million dollars. Nice.

I sat in a desk chair next to the bed watching Cyrek sleep for an hour, milling over what to do in my head. As I let my eyes roam his sweet naked flesh I had a revelation. I smiled a devil's smile from ear to ear and then leaned over and kissed my new student awake. He smiled when he realized it was me in the room and not Gustaf. He reached around and felt his swollen cunt, wincing when he touched the tender flesh.

“I can help that to not hurt so much,” I said as I walked to the bathroom and got out a tube of cream from my bag.

“Where did the old man go?” fair enough question.

“He's gone forever little one,” I wasn't ready to tell him that the old man was dead or how he had died, “you belong to me now”

“What are you going to do with me?” he winced some more and then relaxed as I applied the cream to his reddened pucker.

“Simple,” I smiled and then kissed his lips gently, “I am going to teach you.”

To Be Continued....

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