Date: Wed, 07 Sep 2005 17:50:02 +0000
From: Moore
Subject: Boyds Boys

BOYD'S BOYS
BY:  MOORE

CHAPTER
ONE

MONDAY MORNING

Andrew Turner woke to his alarm with his usual morning erection. He
inspected his swollen penis carefully for teeth marks, then washed
and brushed, combed his sun-bleached hair, and dressed. He dressed
like all his friends dressed: T shirt, Calvin Klein button-fly
boxers, running shorts and flip flops.  A few of the college boys
had started to wear colorful CK jock straps at the beach club this
past summer, Andrew thought that was so cool. Though not nearly as
cool as the 2(x)ist thong worn by the head lifeguard.  He bounded
down the stairs of the split level house to the kitchen where his
mother had breakfast waiting.  Andrew ate quickly so he didn't have
to listen to her constant nagging, then flipped on the wide screen
TV to watch the Simpsons until it was time to meet his new best
friend Gary.

Across the street from Andrew's house, Gary Miller didn't eat much
of the bacon and eggs his mother had prepared for his breakfast. The
Miller family had moved to the wealthy community of Parkside only
last month and Gary, though he hid it well, had been nervous about
making new friends and now he was nervous about his plans for the
morning. A sun-bleached blond like Andrew Turner, and similarly
attired in what his father referred to as a teenager's uniform, he
too watched TV to escape his mother's nagging until it was time to
meet Andrew.

Dr. Thomas Kellenberg, the principal of Parkside High School for the
past 15 years, had been at his desk since eight reviewing his
welcoming remarks and the million other details that would keep him
busy on this first day of the new school year. A hoard of teenaged
boys and girls would soon invade the hallowed halls of his domain
and he wanted to be well prepared.  Kellenberg might have stayed in
bed had he known that two senior boys would never arrive at school
this morning.

At the marina, Red Kelly, Brad Anderson and Nigel Brooks were also
finalizing their preparations for the first day of school. The Sweet
Boy, Red Kelly's ocean going yacht was fueled and ready to take on
its cargo for the cruise to BoydIsland IX, a privately owned island
off the Venezuelan coast. If all went as planned, as it had previous
occasions, and the quality of the delivered merchandise met all
specifications, Red Kelly's bank account would swell by $100,000.
The two boys he was waiting for would complete his present contract.

At approximately 8:45 Andrew Turner and Gary Miller left their homes
for the short walk that took them passed the marina to school.

"You ready?" Andrew said to Gary as they ditched their school books
in a trash can and turned into the marina.

"I'm not sure about this," Gary replied.

"About being outed or about running away?  Peter'll do it you know,
if one of us won't suck his cock today.  You don't know him like I
do, Gary, he'll show the pictures he took at the club, maybe even
put'em on the net. By the end of the day the whole school will know
that we're fags."

"We're not fags, Andy, we're gay. And we were just fooling around."

Andrew shrugged his shoulders, "Gay, fags, whatever. You were
sucking my dick and I was sucking yours. The whole school is gonna
be laughing their heads off when they find out that we're both
cocksuckers. Mr. Kelly is our only hope."

"It's not fair, shit. I don't want to suck Peter's dick, let him cum
in my mouth. Why don't you do it? You like cum more than me anyway."

"You ever see Peter's dick?  It's huge, bigger than my dad's. No way
can I suck it without choking to death."

"Then we're doing the right thing, huh, running away with Mr. Kelly
for a week, until Peter returns to college?"

"We're doing the only thing we can do."

Neither boy's absence was noted until after the general assembly
when they should have been in homeroom where attendance was taken at
10:00.  Nor was their absence cause for immediate alarm.  A frantic
Kellenberg called the police at 10:30 after routine phone calls to
Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Miller.

The Sweet Boy was well under way at 10:40 when the police arrived
at Parkside High School to begin the investigation into the
missing boys.

CHAPTER
TWO

TUESDAY MORNING AT SEA

Andrew and Gary were still asleep when the Sweet Boy reached
international waters. They'd had a late night watching X-rated
DVD's, a busy one too exploring their homosexuality together. Yet
again, Kelly, who claimed he could spot the gay kid in a crowd of
fifty boys, had chosen wisely.  He would have returned to port and
sent the boys home if he had been wrong.

"I don't know how you do it, Red," Brad said as he poured himself a
cup of coffee.  "The guy I worked for three years ago used to
threaten to cut their dicks off, feed'em to the sharks if they
didn't cooperate."

Kelly laughed at the lunacy of his competitors. He wouldn't so much
as harm a single hair on their precious heads.  Each boy was worth
up to $50,000 upon delivery to BoydIsland IX and the value declined
substantially if the boy was delivered damaged.  The value declined
as well if, when closely inspected, the boy had a physical flaw. A
large birth mark, an unsightly scar, a poorly done circumcision; any
number of imperfections normally concealed by his clothes would
lessen the boy's value.

A boy discovered to have a major physical defect or, as happened
from time to time, too many small defects, would be rejected as
unfit for his intended use. Rejected boys were disposed of quickly;
sold to an Arab merchant who controlled the Middle East white slave
markets, or sold to a man Kelly knew in Bangkok who was always in
the market for 18 - 20 year old white boys to staff one of his party
clubs.

Red Kelly enjoyed the work he did under a long-term contract with
BoydIsland Resorts Ltd. The monetary rewards had made him a wealthy
man over the years and the pre-delivery quality control inspection
and transformation training he undertook was an added fringe benefit
for a man who appreciated the special beauty of boys.

Andrew Turner and Gary Miller had not been chosen at random, but
carefully selected for their blond hair and blue eyes, age, body
size and innocent boyish good looks. The scanty outfits they wore
all the time made appraising their bodies that much easier. He knew
they were gay the moment he laid eyes on them, now, as they emerged
on deck rubbing the sleep from their eyes, he had to find out if
they were fags too.

~~~~

"Gay boys want to," he'd once explained to Nigel over drinks at a
sex club in Bangkok. "Fags need to."

Nigel turned his back to the stage and picked up his drink as Red
explained his theory. "All fags are gay, but not all gays are fags.
Do you see the difference?"

Nigel gave it some thought before answering. "Like drugs? The casual
user as opposed to an addict?"

"Yes, in a way. Though semen, which is pure protein, isn't
chemically addictive like heroin or cocaine.  A fag's needs are
psychological, maybe wrapped up in his DNA. The need to be a
submissive homosexual, a fag, unlike sucking a dick or taking one up
your ass, aren't skills that can be learned."

"Are you saying that fags are born to be, well, fags? Cocksucking is
in their genes?"

Red nodded towards the stage where two adolescent Asian boys, each
impaled on an oversized cock, were also sucking equally large
organs. "Those kid's have no choice probably. They have to do what
they're doing if they want to survive. The one on the left, the kid
with the hardon, he sure looks happy doing it though."

Kelly downed his drink.  "That's the kind of boy Mr. Boyd wants for
his resorts."

~~~~

Kelly was not pleased to see that Andrew and Gary had come up on
deck wearing their shorts and T shirts. A sign that last night's
activities had left them feeling guilty or ashamed of what they had
done. American boys in their teens were sometimes shy about their
bodies, unlike the last consignment of Sri Lankan boys who spent
more time naked than dressed. Shy or not, his current contract
called for boys who had grown accustomed to being naked around
adults and Kelly never failed to deliver as promised. It was time to
turn the screw a little.

"What's with the clothes? Didn't you enjoy last night?"

Andrew and Gary giggled, shy in the daylight, but two T shirts, two
pair of shorts and two pair of Calvin Klein boxers were placed on
the deck and were soon carried aloft by the wind and left far behind
in the Sweet Boy's wake.

Both boys were blushing, hands covering their genitals. A normal
teenage embarrassment at being nude in front of the three men. Kelly
had them walk and turn, bend over and spread their cheeks, lift
their testicles...visually inspecting every inch of their apparently
perfect bodies. They weren't blushing any longer. No, they were
having fun showing off their naked bodies and firm erections.

Andrew had blond pubic hair above his perfectly formed penis. His
hairless testicles completed a beautiful package. Gary's cock was
uncut, a much prized rarity among American boys. It was set off
nicely by a small patch of curly blond pubes and low hanging balls.
His foreskin would garner a $5,000 bonus.

Collecting volunteers was how Red Kelly described what he did to
earn his substantial living.  He had never kidnapped an American
boy, taken one against his will in all his years in the business.
Neither would he have sex with an American boy before reaching
international waters.  Why take the risk when the gay trickle that
began in the 1980's had turned into a flood by the end of the
1990's. The closet door had been blown off its hinges by the tidal
wave of homosexual men and boys rushing to get out of the closet and
into the world.

Red Kelly was no saint, under his guidance over the next few days
Andrew Miller and Gary Turner would become willing slaves to cock.
They were already gay boys...soon they'd be fags, sexual toys for
the boy-loving men who came to BoydIsland Resorts.

CHAPTER
THREE

TUESDAY AFTERNOON AT SEA

The boys were resting below deck, exhausted after hours of almost
continuous cocksucking.  Gary had improved, but he still couldn't
take more than two inches in his mouth without gagging. Andrew on
the other hand had all the makings of a first rate cocksucker. Not
one teenage boy in a hundred, in Red Kelly's long experience, could
go all the way down to the pubes on an eight inch dick like Andrew
had done.  And the semen ejaculated into his mouth, an acquired
taste at best, hadn't troubled him either. Unlike most gay boys who
tolerated it, Andrew appeared to like the taste of cum.

Licking his lips the way he did after Nigel climaxed in his mouth 
was one indication. Cleaning Brad's messy cock and balls of all
traces of sperm after he'd cum in Gary's mouth was another. Andrew
was clearly a cum pig, as such rare and highly sought after boys
were referred to in the trade.  Kelly switched on the ship to shore
radio, he wanted to share the good news with employer immediately.

"What's a come pig?" Andrew said to Gary who was lying next to him
on the narrow bunk.

"Huh?"

"A come pig.  Mr. Kelly is talking to somebody about finding a come
pig."

"He's talking about you, I think.  You're the cum pig.  How do you
do it?"

"Do what?"

"Swallow the jizz so easily and swallow down their big cocks without
gagging?"

"I dunno, I sort of like the taste."

Andrew started to laugh. Soon both boys were laughing and kissing
and hugging each other like lovers. Both boys grew stiff as their
penises rubbed against bare flesh; a sure sign that their sexual
transformation was well underway.

CHAPTER
FOUR

William Boyd was in his office on Boyd Island IX when Kelly's call
came through.  He gazed at the picture of his son, Bill, Jr. or
Willy as they called him, while Kelly described the boys he would be
delivering on Wednesday. Dead 18 years, an automobile accident that
had also taken the life of his wife Jean, and Boyd still missed
Willy who would have celebrated his thirtieth birthday on Wednesday.

The death of his wife and son had hit him hard, but it also made him
more determined then ever to make a big success of the small upscale
hotel in the Catskill mountains that Jean loved so much. Boyd Island
Resorts he and Jean named it when they purchased the property the
year after Willy was born. And it was like an island, surrounded by
trees instead of water, an island paradise in the middle of an old
growth forest.  Despite their hard work, the hotel struggled
financially when Jean was alive, one year after her death and Boyd
was thinking about refurbishing the place.  Three years after the
accident and Boyd Island II opened for business on a real island
Boyd purchased near Puerto Rico.

Steven, the 12 year old boy who had changed William Boyd's fortunes
was long dead too, succumbing to leukemia at age 15.  His death had
embittered Boyd, turned him into a cruel and unemotional, almost
sadistic old man. Not even the memory of their chance meeting and
three loving years together could soften a once warm heart that had
turned to stone.

"Please don't send me back there, mister," Steven had said when Boyd
found him hiding in the boat house.

"Back there" was the home for orphaned boys about ten miles away,
Boyd knew without asking.  Boys ran away all the time...though none
had ever made it this far without being picked up.  His heart went
out to the boy who bore a striking resemblance to his dead son.

Just for the night, he thought, taking the boy's hand in his own and
leading the grateful lad to his villa. Tomorrow morning I'll call
the authorities.

"You must be hungry after walking all that distance," Boyd said.
"How about some scrambled eggs?  It's the only thing I know how to
make."

"Eggs'll be fine, thanks. I really appreciate your taking me in."

Steven wolfed down the eggs and toast, yawning throughout the meal.
Exhaustion had finally caught up with the boy who hadn't slept in 36
hours.  Boyd lead him to his son's old room when he had finished
eating and helped him off his muddy clothes.

"I'll put these in the washer while you take a bath," he said. "Be
back in a minute."

Steven was fast asleep in the tub when Boyd returned. The water had
all but drained away and Boyd chuckled softly when he saw that the
boy was aroused. His adorable little penis, two inches at most, was
stiff as a tent peg.  Willy too had gotten erections in the bathtub,
Boyd remembered fondly. "See how big I am, daddy?" He'd giggle,
proudly showing Boyd his little spike, then he'd rush off to show
Jean before it went down.

"Yes, dear," he assured his wife who'd grown up with two sisters.
"Little boys get erections just like their daddies, and don't be
surprised when you start to find semen stains on his sheets."

He'd also had to explain wet dreams to his innocent wife who found
it amusing that adolescent boys dreamed about sex and ejaculated in
their sleep. "It'll be another year, I think, once his pubic hair
starts to grow."

He lifted Steven out of the bathtub, his body light as a feather,
wrapped him in a fluffy towel and carried him to bed. He looked like
a cherub, an innocent angel lying atop the comforter.

"Sleep tight," Boyd whispered in his ear, resisting the urge to
nuzzle the boy's sweet smelling neck and kiss him goodnight, like
he'd done when putting Willy to sleep. Once more, he wistfully
thought as he looked down on the boy fast asleep in his son's bed.
What I wouldn't give for one more bath, one more bedtime story, one
more hug and sweet kiss.

Boyd was still awake, reading in bed several hours later when his
bedroom door opened and Steven came into the room.  "Could I sleep
with you in your bed, Mr. Boyd? Please."

Boyd was embarrassed as Steven came closer. He slept in the nude and
the boy hadn't bothered to put on the pajamas he'd left by the bed. 
I'd sure have some explaining to do if somebody came in about now,
he thought, lifting the covers as he and Jean had done so many times
for Willy.  Good lord, a man my age and a young boy in bed together,
and naked to boot. What a scandal.

"Sure, hop in. My boy liked to sleep here too when he had a bad
dream or when a loud thunder storm rolled through."

Steven hadn't had a bad dream and the night was perfectly calm. He
climbed into Boyd's bed, snuggled against Boyd's body and reached
between Boyd's legs because that's what he did every night at the
orphanage. One night a week in the director's bed, one night with
the staff doctor.  On the other five nights of the week he removed
his nightshirt and climbed into bed with men who paid to sleep with
him, naked men he didn't even know.

No one would have guessed it to look at his sweet, innocent face,
but at the tender age of twelve Steven knew more about pleasing a
man sexually than most married women.  He'd had sex with as many
different men as any prostitute, female or male, who serviced men
for a living.  At twelve years of age Steven, who had lived at the
orphanage from birth, was a slave to cock.

Boyd froze when he felt Steven's hand on his cock. No one but Jean
had ever touched him there.  Even after her death he had remained
faithful to her memory, resorting to masturbation when he needed
release, and not even that for years.  He tried to turn away but the
boy was insistent, lightly stroking and gently squeezing his long
neglected organ. Despite the shame and guilt he felt, Boyd was
aroused. His long dormant cock was reacting to the boy's touch.

His "Noooo" turned to "Ooooo Jean" when Steven sat astride the shell
shocked man and skillfully guided the now turgid organ to his anus.
The slick warmth that quickly enveloped the head of Boyd's cock
brought back a flood of wonderful memories. Virgins when they met,
Jean and Boyd's passionate lovemaking had continued unabated for the
entirety of their marriage.  Jean liked starting on top, positioning
herself exactly where Steven was now, riding his cock while Boyd
fondled her small breasts and wound his fingers through her lush
pubic hair.

Boyd was too far gone, too close to climax to notice or care that
anyone but Jean, that a young boy was making him feel so good.  He
felt like a young man again, on his honeymoon, hormones coursing
through his body as he rolled Steven to his back and showered his
face with kisses.

"Oh, darling," he moaned as he eased himself again and again through
the boy's receptive sphincter muscle.  "Oh, Jean," he gasped over
and over. "I love you so much."

Steven met each of Boyd's thrusts, arching his back to maximize the
penetration of Boyd's pistoning dick and his pleasure.  Steven was
secretly pleased to be mistaken for the man's wife, Jean. The men
who ordinarily had him for their pleasure rarely called him anything
other than pussy boy and cocksucker while they were using his ass
and mouth for sex; faggot or queer when they were done with his
body.

Boyd nearly blacked out when his orgasm burst forth and captured his
soul. The force of his ejaculation bordered on the painful as the
semen exploded from the tip of his penis into the depths of Steven's
bowels.  Steven felt it too; the sudden thickening of the man's
cock, the tightening of his balls, the raw force of the man's
ejaculation and the familiar tingle he'd grown to love as the
invading flood of warm sperm reacted with the naturally occurring
secretions in his bowel.

Boyd was still breathing hard when Steven slithered down the bed and
kissed his deflated cock. "Oh my god," Boyd screamed as if struck by
a bolt of lightening. "Oh my god, Jean, are you going to suck my
cock!?"

Jean had tried to accommodate him once early in their marriage, but
oral sex left her cold. SUCK IT! How many times he'd wanted to shout
at her in frustration when Jean would back off at the last second,
his cock, oozing precum in anticipation of the blow job, barely an
inch from her full lips.  He never did though, not wanting to hurt
her feelings.

"Yes sir," Steven responded automatically. When a man told him to
suck...he sucked. He settled himself comfortably between Boyd's legs
in anticipation of a long session with a sticky, limp dick in his
mouth. Boyd surprised him with his rapid recovery, older men didn't
usually get it up again so fast after fucking him and cumming in his
ass. Some men had to urinate first, which they brazenly did in his
mouth more times than not, before they could get hard again.

He teased the foreskin with his tongue as Boyd's cock thickened
between his lips, angling his head for the thrust he expected, the
pile driving thrust that would drive the resurgent dick through his
lips and mouth and on into his throat.

"Take it, cocksucker," or "suck my dick, boy!" Every night he heard
the same thing. The men who used him were so predictable, so callous
that Steven hardly knew what to make of it when Boyd gently flipped
him around and began to fondle his penis.

Better late than never, Boyd thought as Steven's erect cock pulsed
in response to his touch.  Steven may have been surprised, but Boyd
knew exactly what he was doing. Fifty years was a long time to keep
a secret, a very long time to wait to do something he always
regretted not doing the summer he turned ten.

The other nine boys in his cabin had done it...with their hands and
eventually with their mouths. Don's penis was so big that one boy
could play with head, two boys could stroke the shaft and a third
boy could play with the testicles. Every boy got a turn to play with
different parts of the giant penis, or cock as Don said they should
call it; touch the slippery precum that oozed from the tip and the
sticky sperm that Don shot on his stomach.

Every boy also got a turn to be fondled by Don and to put his stiff
little penis in Don's warm mouth.

"It's called a blow job," Don explained from his knees to the young
and innocent boys circled around him. "Cool guys do it for each
other in college, but watch closely while I demonstrate because
you're really supposed to suck your buddy's cock to make him and you
feel good.  Oh yeah, suck," he said with a lusty gleam in his eye,
reaching for the nearest boy.  "Suck your buddy's dick and play with
his nuts until he cums in your mouth."

It was cool, trading hand jobs and blow jobs with Don and the other
boys in the cabin.  A fun game to play at night and nothing more. No
pressure or name calling, but the young William Boyd just couldn't
bring himself to do more than watch.

Boyd remembered that long ago summer like it was yesterday. The bus
ride that was so much fun, all the boys singing and laughing and
looking forward as he was to a great summer. That first view of the
magnificent camp grounds and the crystal clear lake was awesome, as
was his first view of Donald Parker's penis.

"Welcome to Fairwoods, boys. This is cabin six, the Raven's cabin,
and my name's Don Parker.  I'll be your counselor this summer. We're
gonna have a great summer, right?"

Boyd had cheered enthusiastically along with the rest.

"My bunk's the one in the corner.  Come over anytime, night or day
if you got a problem or a question.  We're gonna be like one big
family for the next two months, help each other out and have fun.
We've got at least an hour before your camp trunks are delivered so
let's hit the lake for a swim, boys. You can stow your gear after
dinner."

Boyd also remembered Don's light hearted response when he asked the
obvious question. "Bathing suits, what for?  We're all guys here."

Don Parker was a good looking young man with a magnificent body that
he wasn't shy about showing off.  Heads turned when he walked on
campus, often with the prettiest coed in school on his arm.  Heads
turned in the locker room too when he stripped after practice and
gave his teammates a good long view of his cock before heading for
the showers. He'd saved a lot of stunned, slack jawed guys from
acute embarrassment by joking about the size of his equipment and
answering the questions before they were asked. He'd also saved more
than one fellow from a severe case of blue balls by letting the
inquisitive fellow do more than just look at his oversized organ.

"Nine inches," he told the pre-teen boys in Cabin Six when he saw
them starring at the monster hanging between his legs.  He let them
look for a minute, even swung it around to get them laughing while
they undressed, then marched them off to the lake in their birthday
suits.

Within a week, every Raven idolized Don who epitomized what a camp
counselor should be. They followed him around like puppies, eager
for his praise or a pat on the head, and copied everything that he
did.  One counselor made a pass at him, but got a polite brush-off.
Don was bisexual and at school he would have let the guy get off on
his dick.  Here at a boy's camp though, well, he liked his women
pretty and when he had a choice, he liked his men young...very
young.

Don Parker didn't wear a bathing suit to the lake so neither did the
Ravens, proudly lining up and marching behind him naked as the other
campers and counselors looked on in amazement. Don showered every
night, not something pre-teen boys ordinarily did at home without an
argument, but here at camp they happily crowded around Don in the
shower and followed him back to the cabin with nothing but a towel
around their necks.  Don slept in the nude so not one Raven boy
bothered with pajamas when they got back to the cabin to talk for a
while before lights out.

Don Parker taught the Ravens, city boys from affluent families, a
great many things that summer. He taught them how to swim and sail,
fish and shoot, pitch a tent and light a camp fire. He also taught
them how to masturbate, handle another boy's cock and balls, and for
those who were willing, how to give head.

Boyd closely examined Steven's stiff little penis and smooth round
testicles, compared it to his own heavily veined erection as the
memories of that informative summer brought a smile to his face.
"Mine's just a little bigger, boys," Boyd remembered Don saying.

An obvious understatement which made the boys laugh because the
difference between his and theirs was astonishing.  Peter Garvey was
the first to touch it, tentatively at first then boldly wrapped his
fingers as far as they would go around the very thick shaft,
declaring that it felt nice. All the Ravens took a turn at feeling
Don's penis, except little William Boyd who didn't think it proper
to touch another boy's private parts.

Don Parker took matters into his own hand, ejaculating a huge load
of semen while the Ravens watched with amazed looks on their faces.
He arranged them in a circle and encouraged each boy to try it. Boyd
participated in the circle jerk, as Don called it, blushing when Don
said he had a nice cock.  The nightly sex games continued in secret
throughout the summer and a secret desire that remained with William
Boyd until now.

"You have a nice cock," Boyd whispered in Steven's ear, nervous as
a young virgin bride on her honeymoon.  "Would it be okay, Steven,
would it be okay if I take it in my mouth?"

Boyd didn't call the authorities the following morning or the next
morning or the next. They'll only send him back to the orphanage, he
thought, toying with the idea of adopting the boy who'd put the
spring back in his step and the starch back in his cock.  The sex
with this boy was incredible, as good as it had been with Jean.
Better in fact because Steven had a cock which Boyd loved to keep in
his mouth for hours at a time, a cock which sent chills up and down
his spine when Steven mounted him and slid it into his ass. Steven
did things to places on his body that turned Boyd into a quivering
mass of sexual energy.

During the day, with Steven never far from his side, Boyd attended
to the business of running the hotel.  "My nephew," he'd explain to
the guests who asked, using the opportunity as an excuse to give the
boy a hug and an uncle-like kiss.  "He'll be staying here with me
for a while."

At night they made love. Boyd had a hot tub installed on his patio,
had more tall shrubs planted so they could bathe together in comfort
and privacy, and when summer arrived, lay together naked, have sex
under the stars, out of sight of any guest out for a stroll.  It was
on one such night that Steven ejaculated a small amount of sperm
into Boyd's mouth for the first time.

Boyd was delighted. He'd been eagerly awaiting this milestone event
since discovering a single pubic hair growing in Steven's crotch. He
even considered how he might sleep with the boy's penis in his mouth
in case he had a wet dream.

"I did it, Uncle Bill, I did it!"

"Yes you did," Boyd replied after taking a few moments to savor the
complex taste and creamy texture of the boy's semen. "You're a man
now, its official. And you know what else, lad?"  Boyd took the boy
in his arms, hugged him close and kissed him tenderly. "Now that
you've cum in my mouth," he said with a big smile. "I am officially
a cocksucker."

"You're not, Uncle Bill," Steven protested to the man he had grown
to love and trust. The only man who had never used him for sex then
cast him aside like so much trash.  Steven kissed his way down
Boyd's body and brought Boyd's cock to his lips. "Not you, Uncle
Bill, me. I'm the official cocksucker at Boyd Island Resorts."


CHAPTER
FIVE

They made love again in the morning. Boyd reluctantly left the boy
in his bed, the sweet taste of sperm in his mouth, to deal with an
urgent guest matter.

"Hurry back, Uncle Bill."

Sanford Peterson, a wealthy businessman and frequent guest, was
pacing outside his office when he arrived.

"Sandy, come in and sit down. How are you?"

"Fine, Bill, fine," Sandy said, taking a seat. A curious look on his
face.

"And Charlotte?"

Sandy frowned.  "The bitch is fine. Out looking at birds like she
always does when we come up here.  You were smart not to remarry,
Bill.  I'd divorce the frigid bitch if I didn't have to give her
half my business."

Boyd thought about Steven, all naked and warm, waiting for him in
bed.  "Your message said it was urgent."

Sandy moved his chair closer to the desk. "You ever been to the Far
East? Thailand?"

"Uh, no.  Europe once, but I haven't been to Asia. Why do you ask?"

"Thought you might have, forget I asked. I just got back from a
business trip, stopped in Bangkok to check out a new supplier.  Had
a very interesting experience while I was there...a very interesting
and very enjoyable experience."

"Yes?" Boyd said, wondering what was so urgent and what this had to
do with the hotel.

"Had an interesting experience last night too, Bill, walking past
your villa.  The hot tub's new, isn't it?"

Boyd could only nod as an icy fear spread out from his gut.

"I'll get right to the point you old fox. I want Steven!"

"What?"

"The boy, your supposed nephew...the official cocksucker at Boyd
Island Resorts.  Yeah, I heard everything, saw enough too. I'll pay,
like I paid for the kid in Bangkok, but I want him. I want Steven in
my bed."

Sanford rose and began to pace.  "I'm no homo, ask any of the broads
I've been married to, but I never had sex like I had with that Asian
boy. I can see by the look on your face that you know exactly what
I'm talking about."

Peterson paused to catch his breath. "I'll give you five hundred
dollars to have him for the night."

Boyd shook his head, to stunned to speak.  The door to his office
opened and Steven walked in as Sanford Peterson increased his offer.
"Okay, a thousand. A thousand bucks if Steven will have sex with
me."

"Absolutely not," Boyd told Steven as they cuddled in bed that
night. "Not for a thousand, not for a million. Not for anything. I
don't care if I lose the hotel, I will not have you sleeping...
having sex with Sanford Peterson."

Steven slipped out of bed in the middle of the night to keep the
secret appointment he had made with Mr. Peterson.  He didn't like
going against Boyd's wishes, but he saw the growing stack of bills
that had to be paid and the nasty letter from the bank.  One more
man, a dozen more men who wanted to have sex with him, a hundred men
using him like a whore the way he used to be used meant nothing if
Uncle Bill got to keep his hotel.

Steven confessed in the morning so Boyd wasn't surprised when the
Petersons checked out and Sandy told him to add the thousand to his
bill.

"Worth every penny," he said handing Boyd his platinum credit card.
"The kid sucks dick like a pro. You're a lucky man, Bill. He did
things to my cock...that ass, shit, I got a hardon just thinking
about last night."

Boyd, more jealous than angry, said nothing as he turned to the
computer and brought up the file. He scrolled through the options to
code the additional charge, tempted to create a new code which would
embarrass the man, take some explaining if somebody saw it on his
bill.

"Hospitality," Peterson laughed when he glanced at his bill. "I love
it. Tell you something else I loved, just between us? Steven's
little cock and balls. Do I look any different to you this morning?"

"No." Boyd answered, giving Sandy a quick glance.

"Well, look again because you're looking at a cocksucker, Bill, an
honest to goodness middle aged cocksucker."

Boyd had to laugh at the irony of the man's statement. Sanford
Peterson's views on homosexuals were well known at the hotel. If a
busboy or waiter even looked gay, there had been a few over the
years, Sandy would insist on a change.  "Goddamn fags," he'd rant to
anyone who'd listen.  "Why can't they stay in the closet?"

Steven hadn't mentioned anything about Peterson sucking his penis.
"You didn't?"

"Yeah, I did. Twice.  Second time from my knees, in front of a
mirror no less. You should have seen it, Bill, me with my head
between the kid's legs, my cock bobbing up and down like crazy and
dripping precum. I felt like a randy teenager again and I looked...I
looked like a faggot cocksucker, a horny faggot cocksucker in a
cheap porno flick."

Boyd knew exactly what Sandy was talking about.  He too had done it
in front of a mirror to see what he looked like with Steven's penis
in his mouth.

"I was so turned on by the kid, by his dick and balls, watching
myself sucking his dick that I even let, shit, who my kidding, I
wanted the little fellow to cum in my mouth."

"Quite something, isn't it?" Boyd said with a wink.

"Quite. I never tasted...I'll be back next week, Bill, without
Charlotte.  Book me a room, will you? Oh, and could you arrange for
a bigger mirror?"

~~~~

That's how it all began, the huge success of BoydIsland Resorts Ltd. 
Men, boy lovers, came from far and wide and paid dearly to enjoy the
company of Boyd's Boys. The demand for young boys was huge and
that's why William Boyd was sitting in his office at Boyd Island IX
taking a call from Red Kelly.

"One's a cum pig, Mr. Boyd, a born cocksucker if I ever saw one. The
other one doesn't suck too good, yet, but he's learning. He still
has his foreskin and you know how rare uncut American boys are."

Boyd swiveled around in his chair, away from the photographs of
Willy and Steven, before answering. "There's been a slight change in
requirements, Red."

"Yes sir?"

"The first guests are arriving on Sunday as planned."

"Today's only Tuesday, we'll be docking on Saturday afternoon so
long as the weather holds up. Don't worry, Mr. Boyd, you'll have two
well trained cocksuckers ready to meet and service your guests on
Sunday."

Boyd picked up the overnight fax from the travel agent and shrugged
his shoulders. "I need pussy boys, Red, pussy boys.  They don't want
virgins, can you imagine, they want boys with experience...boys that
have already been fucked and fucked hard."

"Get the boys," Red said to Brad after assuring Boyd that he would
take care of everything.  "Bring'em up on deck, we got our work cut
out for us."

CHAPTER
SIX

THURSDAY EVENING AT SEA

Gary Miller had never experienced such pain in his life. The creamy
lube helped, but his rear end still felt like it was on fire when
Nigel spread his legs, mounted him and penetrated him for the first
time.  He was better now, actually enjoyed being fucked now that his
once tight puckered anus had stretched. A better cocksucker too with
a dick in his ass since it distracted him from gagging on the dick
in his mouth.

Andrew Turner had fared better.  Unlike Gary who had cried like a
baby, Andrew had listened and followed Brad's instructions to relax
and push out during the initial penetration which made his first
experience only mildly uncomfortable.  Subsequent couplings with Red
and Nigel were easily accomplished with spit and leftover semen.

"We've done it I think," Red said to his exhausted mates after
pulling out of Andrew's slick hole and ramming his dick into Gary's
upturned ass. "Two days of hard work, men, but we've done it."

"Fuck me harder, Mr. Kelly, deeper and faster," Gary shouted as the
mounting pleasure of a dick in his ass brought him close to yet
another orgasm.

Kelly slapped Gary's gyrating ass.  "Oh, yeah, a well-fucked pussy
boy we'll be delivering. Mr. Boyd will be pleased."

"What about me?" Andrew said as he crawled over to Nigel. "I'm a
pussy boy too.  "Would you fuck me some more, Nigel?"

"Suck it first, lad. Get my cock hard then climb aboard."

"Wait, I'll fuck him while he sucks your dick," Brad said, moving
into position behind Andrew and pushing the boy's head into Nigel's
crotch. He teased the crack with his dick, sliding smoothly on the
cum leaking out of the wide open pucker until Andrew cried out in
frustration.

Several hours later two sweaty well-fucked boys stumbled into bed.
They slept like newborn babies which in some respects they were.
Born anew as submissive boys, slaves to cock, whose sole purpose in
life was to provide pleasure for men.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

FRIDAY MORNING ON BOYDISLAND IX

William Boyd was in bed, enjoying the ministrations of the naked
young boy between his legs. A black boy this month, the latest in a
long line of boys he kept for his own use. None stayed more than a
month because Boyd was loathe to form a lasting attachment.  He'd
lost the two boys he'd loved with all his heart, his son and Steven,
and that was enough.

FRIDAY NIGHT AT SEA

Gary tossed and turned while Andrew slept like a baby next to him.
His mind was racing, not thinking about home and family or the life
he'd left behind as he'd done the first few days at sea.  No, he was
thinking about cocks...how good a stiff cock felt in his mouth and
in his ass, how much he'd grown to love the taste and creamy texture
of warm semen and the unique sensation of semen spurting forcefully
into his mouth and ass. Nigel and Brad and Mr. Kelly had each told
him that he'd learn to like being used by men, Andrew seemed to like
it from the start, and now Gary could hardly wait for the sun to
rise on a new day so he could tell them all that they'd been right.

I am a fag, Gary thought happily as he slipped two fingers into his
ass hoping to find some leftover juices, maybe a wad of cum that
hadn't already leaked out.  His rutting around woke Andrew who
immediately sprung an erection when he saw what his bedmate was
doing.

"Want me to fuck you?" Andrew offered, rubbing the sleep from his
eyes.

"I'd rather suck your dick...have you cum in my mouth if that's okay
with you, Andy."

"Let's do each other," Andrew said, rolling on top of Gary. "This
way we both get to suck and we both get to have a cum breakfast."

CHAPTER
EIGHT

SATURDAY AFTERNOON ON BOYDISLAND IX

Gary Miller and Andrew Turner, much to their disappointment, would
never meet William Boyd. Never get to personally thank the man
responsible for their transformation. Like the ten other naked boys
who greeted them at the dock as they disembarked from the Sweet Boy,
they would never meet the man for whom they would happily labor as
boy toys; sexual playthings for scores of boy-loving men.