Warning: The following is a work of fiction and does not relate to any real person or event. It describes explicit sexual activities between adult men and young boys. This particular chapter also contains retold experiences of bondage, rape and torture. If this is not acceptable to you, you have no excuse for reading any further.

 

 

THE PORN BOYS

 

by

 

Cosmo

 

Chapter 9: Yura's Story

I knew that if I showed enough patience towards Yura and was gentle with him, that I could get him to open up a little. In the days that followed, our relationship really flourished, and Yura became much more settled and comfortable in our cosseted little world. He was constantly at my side and always chatting to me, questioning and joking and generally keeping me company. He was such a jovial, amiable little boy, always smiling and laughing. And when he smiled, his smile lit up the whole room. His laughter was infectious. He was always a joy to be around.

During the day we swam, playing lot of energetic, physical games in the water, jumping around and splashing each other. We played video games, during which Yura would always conclusively defeat me, although, I like to think that I let him win most of the time. We spent hours in the basement playing pool in the games room, or working out together in the gym. He also loved to help me in the kitchen, where we cooked up all sorts of fun and experimental recipes together. We ate together and washed up together. We tidied up around the house and washed the car together, turning even that into a game of saturating each other with the hosepipe. He was my constant companion. Sometimes he would just follow me around the house, chatting animatedly about nothing in particular, yammering away in that sweet, absent way of his, and I would sometimes watch him as he was doing it, not even aware of my stare, and I marveled at how much I loved this little boy and how much pleasure he gave me just being in his presence.

In the evenings we watched TV together, and he invariably slept in my bed every night. I couldn't believe the amount of times we fucked, or the sheer volume of spunk I had pumped into his tight little ass. His energetic little body wrestled and writhed with me under the covers and he, as always, couldn't get enough of my cock. He was insatiable, and wouldn't stop until I had fucked my spunk deep into his little ass, or he had sucked my load into the back of his throat, sometimes both. He was impetuous in his sexual pursuit, keen to squirt his little boy spunk and would insist on cumming at least twice during these heavy night time sessions. His capacity to cum twice in rapid succession, sometimes even three times, was incredible. I loved seeing Yura cum. He would always get a surprised look on his face, as though every time he orgasmed he still couldn't believe how good it was. It was as though when his orgasm hit it was still just as good as the very first time. That was what I loved about Yura he still retained that childish sense of wonder that all young boys possess, and it was contagious. He would work himself up into a frenzy, stimulating himself until he was so sexed up he could barely contain his anticipation, or I would bring him off with my mouth, and he would suddenly freeze, stock still. His expression would glaze over with a kind of delighted surprise and he would swear tersely, barking out a gratuitous `Oh fuck!' or let out a high pitch squeal of sheer delight. He only ever swore during sex, and most especially when he was cumming. And he never swore in Russian. But it was so erotic when he swore it signified the ultimate height of pleasure that his little body could attain, and he sought that pleasure with a relish and gusto that was difficult to reconcile in a boy so young. But God, it was so beautiful to see his little body in the throes of orgasm. It was so erotic when he cummed.

At night Yura slept next to me, totally drained by his exertions, and often with my spunk still drying around his lips, or leaking from his little boycunt. His little body would lay on top of me, spent and pulsing with quick little breaths, his sweet head resting on my chest, or he would fall asleep with me spooning him, my cock nestling in his cummy little ass crack. You could not measure the love that passed between us in these intimate little boymoments.

Elena visited the house and she commented about the dramatic change she had seen in Yura. She observed the way he interacted with me and how his demeanor had changed. He was open, cheerful and cooperative. She said that she could see we had a great relationship and that he idolized me. I had been a very positive influence on him, she said, and she admired the way he looked up to me. She felt I had shown him more patience and guidance and encouragement in the short time that I had known him than he had had from any man in his entire life. For myself, I found her comments very flattering. But I loved that little boy. Why would I not treat him with the genuine love and respect I felt towards him, and give him all the unconditional positive regard he deserved? God knows, he had been so deprived of that in the past.

I thought it was significant that when Yura did open up to me, and he finally disclosed the intricate details of what happened to him, it was quite unexpected. I suppose it was a manifestation of the trust and bond we had built up already, and I remember feeling quite privileged when he started to share these things with me. We were in the little gym in the basement of the house, where we often went to lift a few weights and do some bench presses. There was a treadmill and an exercise bike and I loved seeing him in his little gym shorts, shirtless as always, his taut little body glistening with little boy sweat. He was unusually dedicated to his exercise, and when I gave him encouragement he always tried hard to finish his regime, and do just one more pull-up or stomach crunch for me, his pretty little face screwed up with concentration and effort, straining breathlessly, his hair becoming wet around his temples and forehead. He was very dedicated and had incredible stamina. Of course, I was always careful not to push him too far. He was apt to overdo the exercise just as he did with sex, and sometimes I had to reign him in and remind him not to go beyond his limits.

It was on just such an occasion, after an arduous workout, when we were both hot and sweaty, pumped up and somewhat breathless, that we sat down on the exercise mat together and as usual we cuddled. We had lots of sweet boymoments on these occasions. He loved me holding him. He often said he liked the feel of my strong arms around him, and he felt very protected and safe with me. He was sitting on the mat with his legs stretched out before him, and I scooted up behind him so that he was sitting between my raised knees, and I wrapped my arms around him from behind. He was wet with little boy sweat, and I could feel the wetness of his hot little body against my chest hair, our sweat melding together on our skin. I spread my legs out, so they were laid out flat, then he scooted forward so that he could lay back, relaxing totally, resting his head on my lap. His little chest was still heaving up and down from his exertions and he had one arm across his tight little tummy, his fingers splayed across his little six pack. And he just started talking. I thought he was going to make reference to a few sketchy details and then stop. But he didn't. Once he started, it all came pouring out of him like a veritable damburst.

`It was Kirilenko who would do all those things to us. All the boys in the children's home were scared of him, it wasn't just me. He just liked me more than the others. I still remember the first time he put his thing in me. I knew he liked rubbing it on me, but I didn't know he was going to do THAT. It hurt a lot. He made me bleed.'

`Hey little buddy,' I interjected, `you don't have to tell me all this.'

He looked up, viewing me upside down as he lay with his head between my legs.

`It's okay Mark,' he said, `I want to. I trust you.'

So I let him continue.

`Kirilenko used to frighten me. When he got into my bed in the night he told me I was all alone and no one wanted me. He told me he was looking after me now, and I had to do whatever he said. And while he was whispering these horrible things he was feeling me up and rubbing his thing all over me. Sometimes he rubbed it all over my face and stuck it in my mouth. He stank of vodka. He did that all the time I was at the children's home.'

I stroked his smooth chest and stomach as he was talking, letting him know I was still there, still listening.

`One night, we were taken from our beds. Me, and some of the other boys were woken up in the night and we were locked in the back of a truck. We were still in our pajamas, and we were cold. We didn't know where they were taking us. But we knew Kirilenko had something to do with it. We were taken to a big house out in the woods, very far away. We knew it was far away because we were in the truck for a long time. They didn't let us out until the morning. It was dark in there and we were scared. Andrei was crying. Andrei was the youngest, but at least he had his big brother Sasha to look after him. Andrei was so scared he even crapped in his pants. I remember Sasha trying to comfort him. Even Vladik and Kolya were scared, and they were the oldest. I tried to be brave. I tried not to cry.'

Yura rubbed his eyes, and shifted slightly.

`They kept us locked in a room. It was a horrible room, with no windows. We didn't even have proper beds, just mattresses on the floor. And we were always hungry. We had to be naked all the time. They took away our clothes. The worst thing was that the men would come into the room all the time. Any time they felt like it, they would come in, even in the middle of the night, and do what they wanted with us. Sometimes they would just open the door and stand in the doorway just looking at us. Sometimes they would come into the room and do things to us. Kirilenko was the worst. He was ugly and he stank, and I think most of the time he was drunk. Sometimes he just wanted me to play with myself, and would watch me jack off until I dry cummed. I didn't squirt anything then. Other times he wanted me to do things to him. He would get his thing out and make me put it in my mouth. Sometimes he couldn't even get hard because he was so drunk. I hated Kirilenko.'

I was really starting to get the picture of just what Yura had been through, and as I sat there with his sweet head on my lap, listening to his words, I realized for the first time the sheer magnitude of what this little boy had been through. I wasn't sure I really wanted to hear it, and my affection for him almost made me feel like putting my hand gently over his mouth and telling him to stop. It was too painful. But if it was painful for me to hear, I mused, how much more painful was it to have experienced these things for real, yet alone recall what had happened.

`Kirilenko forced a butt plug into my bum and told me I had to leave it in all the time. I wasn't allowed to take it out, even at night. Only when I had to shit. There was a pan in one corner of the room which we had to use for the toilet because we weren't allowed out of the room. Many times he wanted to watch me go to the toilet and would force me to pee or shit right in front of him, and he would stand there playing with his thing while he watched me. I think he really got off on that.'

I recalled how Yura had mentioned in passing how he sometimes had trouble peeing. I began to understand why.

`Kirilenko and the other men would come in and do whatever they liked. They treated us very roughly. Sometimes they tied us up with thick ropes and blindfolds. They would put a rag in our mouths so we wouldn't cry out while they raped us. They would stick their cocks in us and fuck us very hard. They would cum in my mouth and up my bum. Sometimes they hit me with their fists, sometimes with straps. Sometimes they burned me with cigarettes, burned my cock and balls, and pissed on me and in my mouth.'

I watched Yura as these words were tripping off his tongue, his pretty lips annunciating the words which were so ugly to hear, and yet he wouldn't stop.

`Soon, they started to bring video cameras to make movies while they were doing these things to us. And they would take photos. It started with just me, posing naked and playing with myself. I would do it myself or one of them would stroke my dick until it dry cummed. Other times I would play with them, or they would fuck me and piss on me, and they would film it and photograph it. Then they brought the other boys to join in and they would do things to all of us, or make us do things with each other. They would make us fuck and suck each others' dicks and cum on each other, or piss on each other, photographing and filming everything. That wasn't too bad, when I was with the other boys. That was how I got to know Vladik. I liked Vladik. We made a lot of videos together and Vladik became my best friend.'

I observed how Yura's voice changed whenever he talked of Vladik. His tone took on a wistful, almost dreamlike quality, as though he was remembering something that had real meaning to him.

`Sometimes these movies would go on all day. We got so tired from it, sometimes my dick couldn't get hard. So, they started to feed us drugs so we could carry on fucking all day long. One of them was a little pill that made our dicks go rock hard and they wouldn't go down all day, so we could keep cumming and cumming while they filmed everything. That pill made me very hot. It made my face very red and my heart beat really fast. And after I had cum three or four times, it really hurt. When I started to squirt spunk, it did help to make my dick stay hard, but it started to hurt too. Sometimes at night I couldn't sleep because my dick was so hard and it hurt so much, and I couldn't get it to go down, even after cumming five or six times in one day. Sometimes I cried because I was in so much pain from my dick being so hard. When I cried, Vladik used to cuddle me in the night. Vladik was like my brother.'

God, I had never heard of boys that young being given Viagra. That was so dangerous. I knew that Viagra had never been tested for use on children for obvious reasons. Its dangers and side effects were well documented.

`They also gave us a horrible tasting medicine which they forced us to drink. They told us it was a muscle relaxant, to make it easier for our bums to be fucked. That medicine made me sleepy and dizzy. Sometimes they would fuck me so hard and I couldn't feel anything. It made me go all weak and floppy. When I had that medicine they would be very rough with me. They would fuck me again and again. Sometimes I would be fucked by five or six men until my bum was sore and bleeding. They all had really big cocks and they liked hurting me and I would cry out from the pain. They liked to make me bleed. It stung so badly I would be shitting blood all the next day.'

Yura didn't see me turn away and screw up my face in disgust. It was almost painful just listening to him. I could hardly conceive what it must have been like for this little boy, this innocent, unassuming little person that was lying between my legs with these awful experiences now indelibly etched on his memory.

Yura paused. The mood in the room had turned very somber and we were silent for a bit. I got up from sitting behind him, and he raised himself up, sitting cross-legged on the mat. I went over to the cocktail bar in the lounge area on the far side of the room. I took two bottles of water from the chiller and rejoined Yura on the mat, handing him one. He accepted it, flipped open the top and sucked a single mouthful from the sports cap. His lips were noticeably dry. I scooted back behind him, and he resumed laying his head on my lap. I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and huddled over him, ready to hear the rest of his testimony.

`They liked to put things in my bum. Once they got a long steel thing they called it a speculum and forced it into my bum. It hurt a lot. They filmed that. I was screaming and I told them it hurt, but they didn't care. They held me down and did it anyway. They liked it when I screamed. They did the same to Vladik, and he screamed too, begging them to take it out, but they didn't. Then they filmed us together, sucking each other, with these painful things in our bums. They said we had to shoot our spunk without touching our dicks. They used the speculum to squeeze our spunk out. They could make us cum on each other without touching our cocks. Our spunk squirted out really hard and we screamed from the pain, and I nearly passed out from it. They wanted to stick lots of things in my bum beads on a string, rubber dildos. Another time, they got a hose with a pointed nozzle, like a shower hose, and stuck it deep into my bum. They pumped a lot of water into me and told me to hold it. I didn't know I could fit so much water in there. It hurt a lot. I could feel my stomach gurgling with the cold water and I got very painful cramps in my guts. I screamed in pain, but no one cared. They made me sit on Vladik and told me to let all the water go. I opened my bum and let it all spray out over his naked body, and it had shit and blood in it, and they filmed that. Then they made Vladik do it to me.'

I had seen all these sequences that Yura was referring to. I clearly recalled the incident with the speculum, which now took on a completely different interpretation now that Yura had described the events surrounding it. In the video it had looked quite erotic not so once he had described what it was like from his point of view. Of course, that was the mystique of all boyporn it looked great, but the story behind it was often one of suffering and coercion.

`They liked to do things to my dick too. They would make my dick hard with the pills and then hit me with all sorts of things. Once they whipped my hard dick with a leather strap. They hit it so hard it stung and split the skin, making it bleed. Sometimes they would force me to wear a cock ring and they put straps around my balls. It made my balls hurt and my dick so hard that I thought it was going to burst. Then they would make me shoot my spunk like that. Sometimes they tied my cock really tight so my spunk couldn't come out, and when I cummed it made me scream from the pain.'

I knew the technique he was talking of it was called Retrograde Ejaculation, blocking off the urethra during orgasm by putting pressure on the perineum, so that the sperm shot back into the bladder. John had written about it in his book. It prolonged and intensified the orgasm, but it was also somewhat risky.

`Towards the end, it just became one big orgy. It wasn't about making movies anymore. Lots of men would come into the room, most of the time they took those pills to keep them hard all night, so they could fuck us as many times as they liked. We would be given drugs and there was always vodka and joints, and cocaine and poppers being passed around, and loud music. It was the kind of party where everything was allowed. The men would take turns fucking us. I was made to suck all of them until they had all cum in my mouth at least once. My lips were bruised and sore, but still I had to suck them and swallow all of their cum. I swallowed so much cum I was sick, and threw it all up in a big white puddle. I couldn't believe how much cum I swallowed. But then they wanted to fuck me, sometimes two at a time, one in my mouth, one in my bum, and at the end they all gathered round and cum on me, until I was covered in cum all over. That was the highlight of the whole thing. They loved that, and of course it was all on camera.'

My suspicions were correct. They had drugged him. I remembered the pictures that Anton had showed me, and they were entirely consistent with what Yura was telling me.

`The very last time, I was really scared. I really thought I was going to die. They chained up my wrists and ankles and they hung me from the ceiling. That was frightening because I was hung there naked, with my cock and balls and bum exposed, and I knew they were going to do horrible things to me. They soaked a rag in poppers and tied it over my mouth, and it stung my lips and eyes and made my head throb. They fed me pills to make my dick hard and gave me the muscle relaxant. They forced me to drink vodka which had other drugs mixed in with it they said it was to knock me out so I wouldn't remember what they were going to do to me. But I do remember. I remember all of it. I was drunk and dizzy and felt sick, and I was full of drugs and vodka, but I was still conscious. I was still conscious when they forced things into my bum, and stuck bigger and bigger things in there, pushing them in so hard it made me scream. They ripped my hole and I could feel it bleeding. They punched me in the face and on my legs and arms. They burned me with cigarettes and whipped me, especially on my cock and balls. They put barbed clamps on my nipples which were so tight they cut into me, and they twisted the clamps until I screamed. They bound my cock and balls tightly until they hurt. They fucked my hole even when it was bleeding, and they all cum on me. When I was too weak to move, they cut me down and left me on the floor, bleeding and unconscious. Then they pissed on me. That was how the police found me the next day. I knew those men wouldn't stop. Thank god the police came.'

Yura's words trailed off and he fell silent. He seemed to run out of steam; as though the sheer effort of this testimony had drained the energy out of him completely. I waited, still sitting there on the floor with his sweet head resting on my lap and the full length of his little body stretched out before me, patiently listening and not interrupting. Of course, none of this testimony was entirely new to me I had seen those videos after all. I had witnessed the depravity that those cameras had captured. The difference was that I was now sitting with a real boy not just a figure on the screen, but a living, breathing participant of those events.

Yura turned his head to the side, screwing up his eyelids almost as though he was in pain, then carried on in very low, almost imperceptible tones.

`I found out later, when I was in hospital, that the other boys were dead. Sasha and Andrei were found together the next morning...' and he looked up at me with massive tears in his eyes and screwed up his face with a little howl, `...they died in each other's arms.'

 

He brought his hands up to his face and pressed his fingertips into his eyelids. He shook uncontrollably as he cried, sobbing violently at the memory of what happened, and he let his grief overwhelm him. I really felt for him. It pained me to see him cry and I realized I also had tears in my eyes. I watched his fragile little frame, laying there on the mat wracked with grief, and I wondered just how many more tears this poor little boy was going to shed. He had cried so much already. Just how much more crying was he going to have to do and how long was his suffering going to go on for?

We stayed there on the gym mat for a good long time and I let him cry himself out. Eventually, when his grief abated, he laid there silently, not moving. Yura was very quiet and still. Recounting his experiences had brought many memories to the surface, and I could see that he was deeply affected by that. Still laying with his head on my lap, I could see his hand had moved down from his flat little tummy and was grabbing at his crotch, his little fingers squeezing hard at the bulge in the front of his shorts. I looked down at his crotch and he obviously had a little boner. It was trapped and straining to one side, its outline clearly visible in his tight little shorts. I thought about what Anton had said about Yura being addicted to sex, and I was starting to recognize a pattern. There were times when Yura recalled unpleasant memories, and these instances were usually followed by a need for sex. It was almost as though he used sex to assuage the painful memories, as though rough sex was a form of distraction.

He shifted uncomfortably, pulling at his little boner so roughly it was almost as though he wanted to rip it out from the front of his shorts. I reached out, unable to resist wanting to touch it myself. He took his hand away, inviting me to touch him there. I grabbed his little boner through his shorts and traced the outline of his hard little boydick. He moaned, putting a little hand over mine and pressing my hand hard into his crotch. His little boner was rigid and burning hot and the fabric made it feel bigger and fatter than it really was. With my hand wrapped around it, he flexed it a couple of times and I could feel it pulsing under his shorts.

Eventually, he got up, moving slowly and purposefully, and went over to the large leather sofa that was in the lounge area way over the other side of the room. Without saying a word, he grabbed two of the oversized cushions from the sofa and came back over to the gym mat where I was sitting. Deliberately, and with great care, he arranged the two cushions on the mat, quite close to me, then he took one of the towels that were neatly folded up by the treadmill and laid it over the cushions. Methodically, he proceeded to take off his little sneakers and socks. Still without saying a word, and without looking at me, he yanked down his tight little shorts so that they were halfway down his thighs, and his stiff hairless little boner sprang free. It was dagger hard, pointing right up towards his navel. The skin had rolled back a little exposing the head. The tip was all red and engorged, and it was wet and slimy with precum. Finally, he laid himself face down with the cushions under his pelvis, his exposed butt raised up in the air expectantly. He settled himself in this position, his stiff little boydick pressed against the towel, digging wantonly into the padding of the cushions. With his head on the mat, he turned to one side and looked at me, uncharacteristically expressionless. This time he didn't even bother asking me to fuck him. He just laid there patiently, stripped and obviously ready, presenting his gorgeous ten year old little bubble butt to me in the most conducive and enticing way.

Kneeling down over him, I ran my hands over his smooth back and over his round little butt, once again in awe of his beauty. He was still shiny with little boy sweat, but his grief had dissipated. In fact he seemed quite relaxed. Seeing his smooth, slender little body lying there so submissively was strangely erotic and exciting. And this kid always seemed to know exactly what to do to heighten the passion and the eroticism, from his wordless actions in arranging the cushions under his pelvis, and the foresight with which he carefully laid the towel over them, to the way he had pulled his tight little shorts down without removing them altogether, but just far enough for his ass to be fucked. Once again, he took my breath away, not only by his extreme beauty and sheer horniness, but by his innate eroticism and sexuality.

I needed no further inducement. My cock was indescribably hard, almost aching to root him. I took off my gym shorts and positioned myself above him on all fours. I took in the sight of his slim, slight, prepubescent body lying there looking so vulnerable and compliant beneath me. His beautiful little boy butt was raised upwards invitingly, white and creamy and deliciously ripe for fucking. I just knew I wanted to pierce his little sphincter and ram my big cock deep into his tiny little pelvis, and pump my spunk deep and hard into his horny and willing little body. I leaned forward and kissed him on the temple. His head was hot and sweaty. I could see his eyelashes sweep up and down slowly just over the line of his cheek as he lay there beneath me. I whispered into his ear.

`I love you little buddy. You're so beautiful, you know that?'

He didn't reply. He laid there very still and just waited patiently. I watched his expression change as I lowered my big hard dick into the soft young flesh of his little butt and inserted the head of my cock into his hot little boyhole. He was always easy to penetrate, and so willing to take my cock. I swear it was pure ecstasy to root this beautiful little fuckboy and feel my cock sinking deep into his burning hot chute. He closed his eyes tightly, his mouth opening with a little gasp, which could have been pleasure or pain. He winced slightly as my cock eased through his tight ring and slipped right into him. But there was not a hint of protest. He continued to bear the invasion of my big cock, steeling himself as it bottomed out deep inside him, sheathed all the way into his tight, velvety little boycunt. Then he took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable onslaught which he welcomed and anticipated. God, this kid was so fuckable.

It was the first time that Yura said nothing at all as we fucked. Normally so vociferous and expressive, he seemed not to be in the mood for words this time. I sensed this was pure animal lust for him. He just wanted to be fucked, and laid there gasping and moaning and yelping each time I stabbed my cock deep and hard into his little butt. I fucked him good and hard and for a very long time, bearing down on him with a really good rhythm and pummeling his diminutive little frame hard into the cushions. I made sure he felt the pleasure of it all the way through his little body, until he was consumed by the sensations I was giving him. As usual he was compliant, yielding and receptive, jerking his little butt upwards to meet my thrusts, squeezing his little sphincter to enhance my pleasure, tightening his grip on my cock on the downstroke as though trying to keep it inside him. God, he was good.

He fell into a really good rhythm with me, rubbing his hard little boydick into the towel, pressing it urgently into the cushions, building up to his own climax as we fucked. I could sense the anticipation rising within him as his yelps gradually got louder and louder, gaining in intensity every time I fucked down into him. That seemed to ratchet up my own pleasure even further. It was such a turn-on to hear him yelping plaintively like that, hearing what I was doing to him, spurring me on to fuck him yet harder and faster. I could feel my orgasm approaching, building and building until eventually everything reached such a pitch that we both exploded in pleasure at the same time. He groaned loudly, almost screaming, and his little body shuddered violently, racked by the intensity of his little boy cum. He was totally incapacitated by the sheer pleasure that ripped through him, and this happened at the same time as my cock exploded within his tight little chute with a great surge of ecstasy. My cock spasmed violently, deep inside his little cunt, flooding it with scalding hot cum, pulsing with a magnificent release of pure pleasure. And as it did so, I could feel it being gripped all the more tightly by the intensity of his contractions, literally propelling the spunk out of me with even greater force. It was such a powerful cum, and I knew that even as my spunk was pumping into him, my dick in his little cunt was striking his gland and milking his little boydick, forcing his boyspunk to squirt into the towel beneath him even harder. His orgasm consumed him for a very long time, and his little body shook uncontrollably, tightening up beneath me, in the throes of orgasm for what seemed like ages.

When it was over, he sighed heavily and collapsed on top of the cushions in a heap. I pulled out of him, both of us utterly spent and exhausted. As I did so, I realized just how much spunk I had pumped into him when some of it dribbled back out of his dilated hole onto his hairless little balls and the towel below. Some of it dripped from the end of my dick and fell in thick, stringy gobs onto his naked butt. His back was shiny, his whole body bathed in sweat. There was perspiration forming on his temples and his cheeks were noticeably flushed. He lay prostrate on the cushions for a couple of seconds, then turned over, sliding off the cushions to lay flat on the mat. I knelt down beside him on the mat, still getting my breath back, in total awe at this incredible little boy. We both looked at how wet the towel was, incredulous at the amount of bodily fluids we had expelled. It was saturated with sweat and neat streaks of watery boyspunk, where he had just emptied his little balls, and this was mixing with the spunk that had just leaked out of his little cunt. Yura stretched out flat on the mat, facing up at the ceiling, as usual looking distant and groggy after his explosive little boy cum, openly presenting his beautiful nakedness to me. His crotch and abs were greasy, smeared with his own cum. His tight little gym shorts were still drawn down around his thighs and he looked totally ravaged.

After a few seconds, when he had recovered and reoriented himself, I will never forget the way he looked up at me, with genuine love and affection in his gorgeous blue eyes, and he smiled. It was another perfect boymoment.

`We came together,' he said, a little croakily.

There was a sense of achievement in his voice, and I could see he was happy. His little boycock was nestling in his crotch still hard and slimy with little boy spunk. It never went down after just one cum, and I knew that he could easily go again. I couldn't resist grabbing it and squeezing it hard in my big strong fist, smearing his boycum all over his neat pink little cockhead with my thumb, and he squirmed with pleasure. Smiling back at him, I rested my hand on his chest which was still panting up and down. He was hot to the touch. I stroked his body, running my fingers over his pink little nipples and tracing the line down the centre of his chest to his navel. I pressed my palm into the tight yielding hardness of his little six pack and admired the beautiful smooth little body I had just pumped my spunk into. I swear I was so consumed with this kid, this remarkable, amazing little Russian boy that had just about blown my mind. God, how I loved him.

******

I was rudely wrenched out of a deep sleep by the phone ringing. It was pitch dark. The middle of the night. I stirred, not quite awake and sluggishly shifted over to the side of the bed, momentarily deafened by the phone's shrill tones. Blindly, I reached out for the phone on the nightstand and lifted the heavy handset to my ear. It was Nikolayev.

`We've found him,' he said.

I noticed the clock there by the phone. It was 4.30 in the morning.

`What? Who?' I asked, my voice husky with sleep.

`Vladik,' Nikolayev said, `We've found Vladik.'

It didn't quite sink in. I was still half asleep.

`Can you be at the airport in two hours?' Nikolayev asked.

`Of course,' I replied, just starting to come to my senses, `But what...'

`He's in transit now. He'll be alone,' Nikolayev went on, `Codeword Alex. I'll text you the flight details, just be there.'

`Okay,' I said, and replaced the handset.

I put on the bedside lamp and took a minute to focus. Of course it wasn't the first time I had received such a call. For security reasons my unit never released such details until after the aircraft had taken off, so as usual I was the last to be informed. But that was the nature of my job. Anyway, it was good news. They had found Vladik!

 

******

 

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