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This story is a work of fiction. The characters exist only in my sick twisted mind and have no relevance to anything or anyone real. If you like this story, send me an email at: andy_dick@hotmail.com. All spam and hate mail will be promptly deleted.

I.

"'Sup?" he said, studying my face. It always started this way — cautious. Who was I, a cop, a potential client?

"Can you hook me up?" I said, hoping to draw him in.

"Wha' choo lookin' fo'?"

"Some chronic?"

"Ain't seen you befo'," he said, still cautious, "You a police?"

"Naw man," I replied. "I used to get my shit from my homey C-lo, but he ain't 'round no mo'." Damn, I surprised even myself with that line!

"Oh yeah, I know C-lo. He locked up now, though," the boy said, warming to me.

"So what you want, a nickel or dime bag?"

"Dime," I said, looking around suspiciously, playing the part.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a cigar box. Opening it, he retrieved a bag filled with marijuana from the stash crammed in the box, then looked at me as he held it up.

Digging in my pocket, I pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to him. Casually, his smoky eyes still probing my face, he passed the bag to me, considering the transaction complete.

Grabbing his slender wrist, I slapped a pair of cuffs on it, flipping him around as I started my litany.

"You have the right to remain silent…."

"Aw shit, I thought you said you wasn't a police!" he complained.

"I lied."

Finishing my lines I told him to spread his legs, snatching the baseball cap he was stylishly wearing backwards, off his head in the process. He reluctantly obeyed, still pissed, as I started my obligatory pat down. This I thoroughly enjoyed, fondling his body in the process. Palming his heavenly package, I lingered over his dangling hose, my excitement growing by the minute.

"The fuck?" he squirmed, a little uncomfortable with my hand on his meat.

Holding his hands tight, I started my hands down his backside, his most prized possession yet to be discovered. Stepping to his side I gazed at his high-perched melons, so full and round, it caused my dick to surge, anxious to part that valley. Exhaling softly, I ran my hand over them, reveling in the way each mound filled my hand. This was an ass that sat up and begged to be fucked, and I was dripping just looking at it. I really shouldn't let myself get so hot.

My 'pat down' complete, I led him over to my car. His face was a conflict of practiced hardness laid over obvious fear, but he said nothing. Ushering him into the back seat, I got behind the wheel and drove off.

"What's your name?" I started, looking at him in the rear view mirror.

"Rakim," he said, trying to find a comfortable position for his hands handcuffed behind him.

"How old are you?"

"15."

"Man, that's too bad. You know they've started that new law where you can be tried as an adult now, right?" He didn't say anything, glancing down at the floor instead.

"You'll probably end up with the big boys up at Chapman," I continued, working him.

Driving nowhere in particular, I let him stew for a while. I had nothing but time.

"You ever been locked up before?" I finally queried. He shook his head no, then looked out the window, determined to not let me rattle him.

"Not gonna be pretty," I taunted, lighting up a cigarette.

Every once in a while he'd look at me in the mirror, then look away, his face set. He was so cute, I could hardly contain myself. Such sexy, smoldering eyes, piercingly erotic. Smooth sun-kissed/brown skin mixed with just the faintest hint of red, broad, shoe button nose, and lips that made your dick scream for attention.

"Where we goin'?" he asked, looking out the window.

"Taking you to the West Side station," I answered, watching for his reaction. His eyes widened at just the mention of the horrid station, known for its harsh treatment of suspects. Stressed, he insisted,

"Why we gotta go there?"

"Got to, that's my station," I lied.

Watching his face, I knew he was freaking out. The last thing he wanted was a trip to West Side, especially a fresh faced kid like himself. Still, he'd been caught, plain as day, selling drugs on the street. His pride wouldn't let him, but I knew he was begging me not to take him in. Turning down another block, I headed away from the station.

"Now, where we going?" Rakim petitioned, sitting forward.

Purposely waiting a few minutes I finally submitted,

"You seem to have a little problem with drugs," I offered, "Maybe I can help you." He looked at me puzzled, but yet too relieved I wasn't taking him in to say anything. Round one, I thought, a smirk on my face.

Far away from the city, I pulled up to an old, isolated house, daylight swiftly fading about us. Opening the back door of the car, I told him to get out.

"Come with me," I instructed, heading for the house.

"Hey man! Wha' choo doin'!!" he yelped, looking over his shoulder at me. Ignoring his protests, I wrenched his handcuffed arms high behind his back, eliciting a cry of pain from him.

Directing him, kicking and yelling, around the vacant house, I took him to the basement entrance in the back. Unlocking the door, I scuffled with him down the stairs, finally slinging across the floor. He skidded about, scampering for balance as I locked the door behind us. Walking over to him, I snatched him erect again, uncuffing his hands long enough to secure him to a pair of rings hanging from two chains in the ceiling.

Seeing him dangling there like that, a patch of his taut, boy stomach peeking out from beneath his upraised shirt, I was ablaze with desire. It'd been so long. Too long. Walking around him, I drank in his beauty, my dick straining at my pants.

"The fuck you doin, man!" he demanded, watching me. Ignoring his protests, I stepped beside him, watching him hang, enjoying his agitation.

"This ain't no fuckin' police station, what choo doin!" he petitioned.

My dick tenting my pants, I reached my hand out toward his budding chest. Rubbing ever so slightly over his nipple area, I felt him tense up.

"HEY! HEY!" he squealed, terror in his eyes, "Get the fuck off me!"

Lifting his shirt, I exposed one of his dime sized, reddish-brown, nipples.

"What choo doin'?" he cowered, watching my mouth approach. Encircling the tender nub in my mouth, I swabbed it with my tongue, thrilling to the faint taste of boy funk.

"Get off me!" he barked, flailing his feet in an attempt to kick me.

Ignoring his objections, I nursed from his nipple, lust overtaking me. Suckling his sensitive bud, I sucked like a baby on a tit.

"AHHHH!" he yelled, panicked.

"Stop it! Get off me, faggot!" he combated, swinging and swaying, desperately attempting to make me stop.

Moving to his other side, I lifted his shirt again and lapped at the other nipple. To him it seemed I was just slobbering on his nipple, wetting it and making him uncomfortable. To me it was the sweet nectar of the gods.

"Fucking faggot! Let me go! Let me go!" he yelled, still panicked.

Releasing him, I stood, gazing into his eyes. Panting and heaving, he stared back at me, enraged.

"Thought you'd be happy we didn't go to West Side," I reminded him. "You really want me to let you go, I can just deliver your little virgin ass up to them hard-asses at Chapman," I insisted, stepping away.

"You doin' the same thing!" he fumed.

"Yeah, but with me, you'll like it."

"Fuck that! I ain't no bitch!"

"Have it your way," I said, retrieving the handcuffs again.

Snapping one end on his suspended wrist, I released him from the ceiling ring, calling his bluff.

"But what you chargin' me wit'?" he inquired, aware I was taking him in.

"Possession of illegal contraband, trafficking, soliciting an officer, and whatever else I can throw in," I said, pausing to let him think. Still hanging from one ceiling ring, he dropped his head, contemplating.

"So we going?" I pressed.

Finally addressing me in a hushed tone he queried: "What you gon' do, man?"

"Have some fun," I promised.

"But I ain't like that," he pleaded. I said nothing, waiting his decision.

"You gon' fuck me?" he implored.

"We're going to have some fun," I reasserted.

Exhaling loudly, he entreated "That's faggot, man."

I knew he was processing a lot so I waited.

He looked up at me, a pained look in his eyes, too stubborn to offer his consent. Making the decision for him, I removed the handcuff and fastened his arm back in the ring dangling from the ceiling. He didn't resist, calmly submitting to his fate.

Laying the handcuffs aside, I returned to his side, lifting his shirt again. His body went immediately taut, resistant to my advances. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pursed his lips, waiting for my mouth to wrap around his nipple again.

Gently drawing it inside again, I lapped at it hungrily. He hissed in protest, but didn't assail me with insults anymore. Excited by his tentative submission, I raised his shirt high, fully exposing his steamy, boy chest. Both of his nipples greeted me, delicate protrusions darting from his chest. How I've long to have a boy like this, once again. To see the slight concavity between his breastplates, to behold the smooth surface of his panting torso, his muscle clad rib cage.

Lovingly passing my trembling fingers over those ribs, I heard myself wheeze with excitement. He squirmed, purely uncomfortable with having a man fondle his body. Bending again, I lapped at his nipples, feverishly alternating between the two. He tensed, his body taut, refusing to yield to the decadent sensations he was sensing.

"Man, that's nasty!" he said, watching me lick. "Why you doin' that? You gon' fuck me?"

Laving each nipple, I ignored him, his fear making the seduction even hotter. Licking and lapping salaciously I finally felt them stiffen, ever so slightly. He may have been resisting my efforts, but his body was working on its own. His eyes still squeezed tight, his face looked liked someone who was just about to eat a spoonful of horse shit.

Tiring of his delectable chest, I squatted before him and started to remove his tennis shoes.

"Aw, com'on man, what choo doin?" he contended. Pulling his slightly large feet out of his worn tennis, I tossed the shoes in a corner. My dick was doing flip flops in my pants, looking at his sock clad feet. I couldn't wait to see what they looked like.

Slowly, I pulled the first sock off, thoroughly enjoying the subtle strip show. His foot was simply divine, a sexy combination of reddish-brown surfaces, padded with tender, supple pinkish-brown soles. He wiggled his dainty toes as the sock came off, causing my dick to drip steamy drops of expectant precum into my shorts.

Replaying the seductive strip show with his other foot, I resisted the temptation to lick and suck his succulent toes. Standing, I went to work on his pants.

"You gon' take my pants off?" he implored, distressed. "The fuck! I ain't no fag. Don't be fuckin' me, man!" Huffing loudly again, he closed his eyes, pissed with himself for getting into this predicament.

Once unfastened, his pants quickly dropped about his ankles, the common street fashion requiring they be two sizes too big anyway. Stooping, I pulled them off and tossed them over with his tennis and socks. All that was covering his body now was a shirt and his designer briefs.

I wanted the shirt off now, its presence serving as an unwanted distraction. Releasing first one hand, I pulled his arm through the sleeve then secured him back to the ring. Doing the same with the other hand, I was soon tossing his shirt into the corner also. He, obviously, was very uncomfortable, hanging near naked like that. Squirming about, he sought a way to cover himself, but couldn't. He was just the way I liked him, exposed, vulnerable and flustered.

Drawing his sensitive nipple into my mouth again, I watched for signs his will was weakening. The best reward would be his hardening dick, but I wasn't sure I could get that. He squirmed and protested, occasionally reasserting he wasn't "no fag," his tender nipples quietly hardening under my tongue, darting out from his chest, raw and sensitive..

"You nasty!" he charged, frightened by what his body was doing.

He wiggled and squirmed, fighting to not respond, certain any reaction would affirm he really was a fag. Imagining he was really struggling with the conflicting sensations buffeting his body, my dick swelled, paining to be relieved.

"Seems like you're getting into this," I taunted, hoping to provoke a response from him.

"Fuck you bitch!" he spat, purely frustrated. "I ain't no fucking fag like you!" he asserted for the umpteenth time.

Whipping my tongue across his baby raw nipple, I watched him tense up, the delicate buds pointing out from his chest.

"Sure seems like your tits is liking this," I said, lapping at them again.

"Bitch!" he railed, exhaling softly, sucking in his bottom lip, his body wracked with the vilest of stimuli.

Adding insult to injury, I reached down and grabbed his flaccid member. He swung his legs, insistent on offering some form of protest.

"Why you got to mess 'round with my dick, man?"

Ignoring his objection, I encircled his dangling tube in my fingers and slowly stroked it through his briefs.

"Sssss…. Let it go, punk!" he threatened. I stroked his unyielding member again, as we both watched my hand passing around his dick, tempting him. Staring at my stroking hand, he lashed,

"Nasty assed faggot!"

It wasn't very evident, but his protests were starting to weaken. I noticed he wasn't kicking his legs so, or trying to get away from my advances. Mind you, he wasn't willingly delivering his soft hang to me. He still squirmed, and huffed protests, but I could sense his defenses were weakening.

"Ugggnnhhh!" he fidgeted, my mouth returning to his sensitive nipples. Working them over, I licked and sucked, coddling them to twin erections again. In the mean time, I also continued stroking his stubbornly soft dick. Squirming and fidgeting, he fought to not respond, his dick temporarily obeying his fragile commands.

Stepping behind him, I hooked my thumbs in the wide waistband of his shorts and pulled them down. I almost swooned watching those luscious boy melons of his unveil, but he started kicking his legs again, no doubt panicked by my close proximity to them.

His body totally naked now, I couldn't stand being dressed anymore. Ripping my clothes off, I tossed them aside, padding bare foot over to his side again, my long, hard dick dripping in anticipation. He glanced down at it quickly, reluctant to let me see him looking, then averted his eyes. I was determined to make his body do what he was diligently refusing to allow, so I grabbed his dick again and started stroking.

His skin was soft to the touch, his dick still unresponsive. Hanging a good 3-4 inches, I marveled at the slender boy's endowment. It was going to be something to behold, once I got it hard.

"Sssssss," he hissed, sensing my mouth on his nipples again. Squeezing his eyes shut again, he bit down on his lower lip, traumatized. Here he was, Mr. Hardass, dangling from some perverts ceiling, feeling his smarmy mouth lapping at his nipples. As long as he didn't get hard, he could maintain some sense of dignity, he thought. It wasn't going to be easy, homeboy's mouth was better than any bitch's.

Glancing down, Rakim watched as the filthy man sensuously licked on his nipples.

"Fuck it faggot," he hissed, "You want it so bad, fuck it, I don't care!"

I glanced up at him when he breathed out his barb. His eyes shut, I drank in his beauty, stroking my own meat, striving to hold it back. Squeezing a healthy dollop of my sticky juices into my stroking hand, I slathered the lubricant around the head of Rakim's bone hard dick.

"Shit!" he jerked, looking down.

Spreading my juices about his tender knob, I continued stroking his tube, patiently waiting for him to respond. Nothing happened, or at least I thought there was nothing, but then, very subtly, his toes spread, each one extending themselves to their slender, long length. He called me faggot again, but despite his protest, I felt his dick surge and the tiniest drop of boy cum, oozed from its head.

"The fuck you let me go!!" he snarled.

Gripping his swelling pendulum at the base, I stroked his length again, extracting another dollop of steamy juice from his head as my hand caressed it. Spying the miniature indication, oozing from his rebellious dick head, he doubled his attacks.

"Stop it, fuckin' faggot!" he assailed. "LET ME GO! Get yo' fuckin' hands off me," he attacked, panicked.

It momentarily aided his efforts, his swelling dick deflating a little. Adding another round of erotic nipple sucking, I sent his body into response mode again, stroking his dick as I lapped. He yelled and cursed, struggling to stop his betraying body, but his dick was helpless. Calmly passing it through my hands, I worked on it until it gradually lengthened.

Releasing his nipple, I stood to behold my handy work. Pulsing wickedly between his legs, his dick jutted out from his groin, his hair trigger, teen libido sadly betraying him. Given enough time and stimulation, even street tough teenagers were helpless, their sex-crazed bodies constantly on the prowl for release.

His swollen knob frosted in his own juices now, I massaged it, extracting even more of his copious supply. He wiggled and shook, dangling helplessly from the ceiling, his body at my mercy.

Torn, I couldn't decide if I wanted to merely stroke him off, or swallow his tumescence and feel his issue pelting my tongue. Accepting that I had plenty of time to do both, I surrendered to just fisting his pole this time. Just knowing his present state of excitement was against his will was reward enough.

Dangling from the ceiling, Rakim felt his body finally surrender, all to his utter disbelief. God damn, was homeboy's hand ever feeling good on his dick! Glancing down, he couldn't believe how painfully hard his dick was. Standing out at a near forty-five degree angle, it dripped his juices, sending delirious tingles up his spine as Frosty the faggot fisted his dick. He'd never let anyone bring him off before, especially not a man. He'd even quit jacking off himself, considering the act weak. It was fuck a pussy or go horny for him and horny he was. He'd been so busy selling weed and having smoking celebrations, he hadn't bedded a bitch in over three weeks.

That's it, he thought, tingles sparking from his dick and down to his toes. This freak wouldn't have never got me so hot if I'd been fuckin'!

"Ssssss…." The boy groaned, watching my hand slide about his sensitive dick. I'd found that sensitive area, just below the stiff cap of his dick and was manipulating it masterfully.

"Ahhh!" he groaned.

This punk was all mine now, I thought, caressing his slender seven inches. Polishing his knob again, I watched as he struggled to hold himself back. Can't let a fucking faggot make him cum, I'm sure he was thinking.

My hand was relentless, well versed in stroking a teen boy to release. Whether he knew it or not, his back was arching, struggling to deliver more of his pulsing teen dick into my fisting hand. And his juice supply was endless, easily providing sufficient lubricant to bring him off.

"Dammmnnn!" he grunted, wiggling and trembling, nature taking its course. His balls swelled and retracted, anxious to blow their load, while his chest heaved, sensations driving him over the edge. Evil sensations, wicked and nasty ones. All the feelings his buddies would give him eternal grief about, should they ever find out.

Shaking uncontrollably now, his dick stood up, raising towards the ceiling, preparing to fire.

"Shit!" he squealed, pushing up on his dancing toes. The mushroom like head of his dick was really large now, the skin so tight, it shone. His back arched like he was in a pissing contest, he was literally fucking my stroking hand now, pushing it up into every downstroke.

"Agggggghhhhhhhh!" he bellowed, his eyes bucking. "Stroke it!" he cried, forgetting he was not supposed to like this.

Timing his orgasm almost perfectly, I reached behind him and found his drum tight asshole.

"Ahhhh!" he moaned, his body begging me to let him release. Hoping he was so involved in his need to spurt, I sunk my finger home, burying the tip of it up his quivering asshole.

Sure enough, his body's demand to release was greater than his repulsion over being fingered. He turned to look at me as my finger probed his anal cavity, then looked back down at his dick. It leaped in my hand, the head swelling as it spurted, the first salvo lobbing into the air and across the room.

"M-u-t-h-a F-U-C-K!" he sang, his body dancing about as spurt after spurt leaped from his dick, assaulting the air.

Taking advantage of his excited state, I fingered him deeper, thrilling in the way his asshole just parted, allowing me passage. Bucking and writhing, he rode his orgasm out, almost unaware of the finger diddling him. His dick would stand up, lunge and then spurt another jet of cum, each time causing him to shudder and curse. To watch him you'd think this was the orgasm of a life time.

"Ugnh! Ugnh! Ugnh!" he belted, popping another spurt with each grunt. So much of his weight was on his toes, the tiny knuckles in them were turning white. Sweat poured out his pores, drenching him as he yelped, spurting endlessly. His stomach muscles quivered, his chest heaved and his asshole danced upon my finger, until finally, he started to come down.

"Take it out! Take it out!" he yelled, sensing my finger in his asshole. I slipped it out, the lips of his asshole sucking every inch and snapping shut after it was out.

Slumping into his restraints, he panted, his body still shuddering every time I stroked his sensitive dick. He was totally wasted, and utterly confused at his reaction. He didn't even bust a nut with a woman like he did today.

"Guess that was pretty good, huh?" I taunted, looking at the cum splattered floor.

"FUCK YOU BITCH!" he accosted, spitting at me. It missed, but I slapped him hard across the face anyway. He yelped in pain, surprised more than anything I'd struck him.

Standing in front of him, I stroked my dick, my eyes devouring his wasted body. Within minutes I blew, large loops of cum painting his torso and stomach. He was so wiped out, he didn't even protest.

Shaking the remainder of my cum off my hand, I balled my fist, and punched him square in the stomach. His eyes bulged, and a whoosh ejected from his mouth, utter shock gripping his face as my fist sunk home.

"That's for spitting at me," I reported, spitting at him in turn. My punch had thrown him off so, I thought he might toss his cookies. He hung there, staring at me with hate in his eyes, his stomach quivering, slowly comprehending his vulnerable position.

What a mess he was, cum dripping down his torso, and spittle dripping off his chin. Grabbing the water hose from outside, I rinsed him down. The one thing I hated was a dirty boy. Get it, a dirty boy! Ha! Ha!

He gasped when the cold water splashed across his body, swinging and struggling to avoid it. Spraying him down real good, I put the hose up and prepared to leave.

"Hey! Ain't you gon' let me go?" he demanded. "Hey!!" he yelled, watching me leave.

II.

Well, I finally got to feel his cum pelting my mouth. He was thoroughly pissed I didn't let him go after that first time, calling me every curse word under the sun when I returned. When I started in on his body again, he became even more upset.

Struggling and cursing, he fought to not respond again, his dick betraying him like before. It took forever, but when it finally stood at attention, he helplessly offered it to me. Expecting me to stroke him off again, he was totally surprised when I stooped and swallowed his throbbing member.

Moaning and groaning like crazy, I surmised he'd never had a blow job before. Within minutes, his dick leaped in my mouth, hot cum spurting out, pelting my tongue with his issue. He moaned and cried so loud, I was glad we were out so far.

When I teased him about liking it again, he didn't spit at me this time. He did diligently deny it, however, calling me a fucking faggot again.

Watching me leave, he yelled for me to let him go again. I closed the door behind me and walked naked around the house to the front door. It'd gotten to where I'd have two sessions each time, one where I blew all over him and one where I blew in the house, remembering his body going off.

Not wanting to loose a good thing, I took care to feed him, which also angered him as he hated being fed his food. He constantly demanded I let him go, but I merely ignored him, playing with his dick when I pleased, his helpless body blowing his wad all over the floor a pure delight.

As great as all that was, I kept monitoring him, waiting to see when the big prize would fall. You see, I've been snatching little wannabees off the street for a long time. If I played my cards right, something interesting would always happen. Although the little punks always posed themselves as hard ass thugs, they'd always humble themselves when their cravings hit them.

By the third day, my little ruse kicked into high gear. His face a little haggard, he played right into my hand, earnestly petitioning,

"Can I have a hit of some of that chronic?" Like all the other little wannabees I'd snatched, Rakim was hooked on his own shit. I had other plans, however.

By the fourth day he was desperate, pleading with me to let him have a hit.

"Com'on Angelo, let me have a hit," he begged, his eyes following me around the room. Figuring he was primed enough, I submitted,

"I threw your shit away." He looked at me alarmed, his world crumbling around him. "I got some of own shit, but you gotta shoot it up," I offered.

"Shoot it up? Aw shit, I ain't into that," he said, shaking his head.

"Suit yourself," I said, motioning to leave.

"Wait a minute! It ain't none of that hard shit is it?"

"It's just like your chronic, just better." (To the unversed, chronic is a street version of marijuana. Serious smokers often dip their joints in a chemical that enhances its affect, dubbing it chronic because it's so potent.)

Rakim studied me, realizing I was setting up yet another trap, perplexed. If he didn't get something soon, he was certain he'd loose his mind, he thought. Resolved, he muttered,

"Let me have some."

Trying to contain my excitement, I walked over to the basement workbench. Opening the sterile packaging on one of my stolen needles, I stuck the syringe into a vile of my secret potion, laughing to myself over the absurdity of it all.

Laying the waiting syringe aside, I retrieved the keys to his restraints and let him down. Anxiously anticipating his fix, he offered no protest as I led him over to an examining table along the back wall. Strapping him in, I spread his feet into the stirrups and secured them also. It was one of my most favorite positions.

Innocently trusting me, he watched as I picked up the syringe and expelled a small squirt, insuring there were no air bubbles in the solution. Swabbing a portion or his protuberant, bubble ass, I watched him squeeze his eyes shut as the needle sunk in. Injecting him with the fluid, I yanked the needle out and swabbed his round ass again.

"It'll take a few minutes," I instructed, watching him.

A few minutes later, he closed his eyes and murmured,

"Damn, that's some good shit." Stupid ass, the synthetic narcotic in the solution was incapable of getting him high. It was, for the most part a placebo. Believing he'd been injected with a real drug, the boy had convinced himself he was getting high!

"Damn," he repeated, reclining on the table.

Waiting patiently, I watched for signs the real effect had kicked in. It turns out my little solution's most potent effect was an aphrodisiac. Once that shit kicked in, the real fun would start!

Resting on the table, his placebo high fooling him, I thrilled as his dick raised full and erect between his wide splayed legs.

"Fuck," he muttered, astonished. Raising his head, he peered at his abhorrent appendage, pulsing between his legs.

"Shit is the bomb," he said, struggling to comprehend what was happening to him. His dick throbbing madly now, he watched as it dripped, sticky juices oozing out his swollen head.

Staring at his dick, he watched as I reached between his legs, and gently caressed his growth. Closing his eyes in ecstasy, he whispered,

"Dammmmmnnnnn,"

I caressed his dick again, squeezing a large drop of boy juice out the head.

"Ooooooh," he cooed, watching my hand. Startled, he looked back up at me, confusion etched across his face.

"The fuck?" he pondered, almost to himself. He didn't know the half of it.

Removing my clothes, I stood beside him, lewdly stroking my dick.

"Suck it," I told him, pushing it towards his face.

"Fuck you!" he ejected, turning his face away.

"I don't think so," I said, stroking his dick again.

"Ahhhhhh," he cooed, his dick springing up between his legs.

Again I pushed my dick towards his face, but he wouldn't open his mouth. As I tenderly stroked his dick again, he cooed, slightly parting his lips. I lay the length of my girth atop those billowy babies and waited. He didn't turn his head this time, but he didn't open his mouth either.

Planted adjacent his head, I slid my dick across his lips, relishing the sensation of them sliding across the sensitive surface. Rakim's dick was splitting hard now, and I knew not to stroke it too much. He lay with my dick sliding across his lips, silent, offering no protest.

Eventually, they parted enough to make a cradle. Slicing my dick atop the pillow-soft surface, I felt it pulse in ecstasy. Rakim kept his eyes closed, but his excited state wouldn't allow him to resist any further. The solution driving his teen libido off the charts, he kept his lips parted just enough to form that cradle for my dick, praying I would bring him off.

My dick was thrumming across his soft cushions rhythmically now, the sight of them sliding open every time I pushed, bringing me closer and closer to release. He had to know I was about to blow, but he still lay there, allowing me to rub my dick across his lips.

Feeling myself getting close, I gripped his pulsing pole and stroked. He gasped, opening his mouth a little wider, almost allowing me to slide my dick inside. Moaning around my dick, he writhed about on the table, his orgasm imminent. The sensation of his vibrating voice on my dick added to his rubbery lips cradling it.

I felt myself tremble, then my dick leaped, spurting its cargo across his face. He moaned loudly as his own dick lunged, firing hot volleys of scalding boy cum across his torso. Wrapped in his own pleasure, he didn't even object to my own dick's spurting across his face.

Some of my cum shot out the end, pelting the wall opposite the table and some of it sluiced across Rakim's face, splattering his cheek opposite me. But some of it actually fell into his mouth as I rubbed across his lips. He sputtered, and spat when he sensed my thick issue slopping into his mouth.

Pushing my dick back and forth across his lips, I finally emptied, shaking like a leaf in the process. Cum dribbled down the far side of his face and off his chin, but he was in heaven, his own dick pelting his body with volley after volley of hot boy cum. We were a mess!

Cleaning him up again, I fed him a late dinner and went to bed.

III.

It's really amazing what you can do when a boy is truly motivated. Still believing my little solution was getting him high, I've been able to get astonishing results from Rakim. Oh, he still complains about not being a faggot, and not liking this shit, but his body tells completely different story.

All along I've been biding my time, waiting for my chance to get his ass. He doesn't know it, but I desperately want to split him like a pig on a stick.

My special potion making him super horny, I've got him to start sucking me off, now. He grumbles and objects as I fuck his mouth, but his need to blow is usually so great, he goes along.

The other day he was so hot, I straddled him, placing him dick right at his mouth. My legs astride his face on the table, I turned opposite him in a 69 position. He looked up at my dangling dick and turned his head away, telling me to fuck myself.

I leaned over his dick and licked its throbbing underside, causing him to gasp in sheer ecstasy. Anything more than just a lick and he'd have blown all over me.

Aiming my dick at his mouth again, I waited to see if he'd suck it this time.

"Ain't gon' happen, fuckin' faggot!" he resisted, turning his head away again.

Time on my side, I encased his brick hard dick in my mouth and salaciously drew my lips down and up its length. His toes curled about the stirrups and he groaned so loud, I was afraid he'd blow. A trail of hot boy precum dripped out his dick and he shuddered, painfully close, but he held on.

Guiding my dick towards his mouth again, I watched to see what he'd do.

"You a evil ass mutha fucka," he accused, staring at my dick. I pushed it across his lips, and he remained still, allowing me to drag it across them.

Caressing his dick one more time, I heard him gasp beneath me, then felt the most glorious sensation on the face of the earth, teen lips sliding up your dick. He swallowed it whole, taking its head into the back of his throat. Damn! When this bitch gets hot, he really gets freaky!

I pistoned my dick down his throat a few times, but I wasn't through with him. Raising slightly up, I dangled my balls above his mouth. He hesitated for a few minutes but finally opened and suckled them inside. If feeling his lips on my dick was glorious, feeling them around my balls was divine!

After he'd laved them real good, I raised up again and positioned my asshole over his mouth.

"You outta yo' fuckin' mind!" he hollered, turning his head.

He'd not taken into account his frenzied state of arousal, however. Bending over his dick, I merely blew on it, sending chills up his spine. Shuddering and twitching, he moaned, fully agitated.

"Ahhhhhh!" he screeched, his toes wrapping around the stirrups again.

Merciless, I blew on his dick again. He writhed about, straining at his restraints, his dick pleading to release. I lowered my asshole over his mouth again, and he lay there for an eternity, refusing to comply.

Gently stroking his dripping dick one last time, I nearly fainted when I felt his tongue tentatively lap across my raw asshole. Waiting another prolonged period, I finally felt him lick across my ass lips again, sending ecstatic shudders up my spine. What a fucking sensation!

His dick dictating his actions, Rakim surrendered, his tongue freely lapping at my asshole. Raising his head to get better penetration, he paused a second, his agitated state frustrating, and requested,

"Do mine, man,"

I knew he meant his dick, but taking him literally, I bent between his wide splayed legs and found his asshole with my tongue. When I lapped across his sensitive hole, he cried out, delighted, his toes clutching the stirrups.

"Oh shit!" he moaned, cringing and squirming. Feeling him lap at my asshole again, I hissed, his fiery tongue incredible.

We continued like that for an eternity, each trying to send the other over the edge in ecstasy. Rakim hungrily lapped at my hole, groaning and moaning as I dragged my tongue across his tiny pucker. Shaking and shuddering, I knew he was close, so I reached back and stroked my own meat, reveling in the extreme sensation of his tongue whipping across my asshole.

Assaulting his hole with my tongue, I felt him contract, his muscles freezing up and his dick leaped between us.

"Ummmmmm!" he muttered, licking ferociously at my asshole.

Wiggling his feet in the stirrups he blew, hot lobs of cum pelting us. I continued digging in his hole with my tongue and he really got off on that, crying loudly around my asshole.

Somehow managing to continue lapping his tongue across my sensitive hole, I cringed and hissed, as he worked. The boy was a natural! His tender tongue wiggling around my hole was too incredible, sending me over the edge also.

Stroking my splitting hard crankshaft, I felt it spurt, my abundant supply, joining his squirting liquids between us. We both squealed and writhed, bringing each other off, emptying our churning balls between us for what seemed an eternity. Rakim may have posed himself as nobody's faggot, but on that day, he worked my hole better than any man I'd ever had!

That was two days ago and I haven't allowed him his fix since. You'd think I was crazy to not use it to my advantage, but for what I had in mind, I wanted him fully aware.

Taking him from the table where he'd gladly sucked dick and licked ass, he willingly followed me across the room to the another contraption, expecting to receive his fix.

Lying face down above the three foot high horse, his legs and arms hung on either side, spreading his juicy ass just so. Strapping his feet to the hind legs, I quickly went to the front legs and secured his arms as well. When I was all finished, he was well trussed up, his body comfortably resting atop the padded seat.

The real delight was in seeing the way his ass was split, hanging out over the end of the pad. His dick and balls hung below it, all unsuspecting. He looked back at me over his shoulder, waiting for me to give him his fix, but I didn't move.

"Wha' choo' doin, Angelo?" he inquired, his face a puzzle.

Staring at me, helplessly bound to the horse, his ass pointing towards me, I watched as comprehension slowly crept into his face. Struggling mightily, he attempted to free himself, panic in his eyes.

"Let me go, Angelo!" he screamed, pulling at his ties.

"This shit ain't funny, man, LET ME GO!"

He whipped his head around, gawking at me in sheer terror, but I never made a move.

"Com'on, man! You let me go, I'll suck you off, 'k?"

"Don't do this, Angelo," he pleaded. "Just let me go, 'k?"

Walking slowly away, I left him tied in that position the rest of the day. Two days without his fix was going to really fuck with him and all I had to do was wait. Eventually, he was yelling for me to give him a hit so loud, I could hear him through the floorboards.

Waiting a little longer, I finally went out back to the entrance and joined him.

"Com'on, Angelo, let have a hit," he wailed, as soon as he saw me.

His eyes following me around the room, he raised up and yelled when he saw me stoop behind him.

"Don't fuck me Angelo!" he pleaded, desperately trying to move his ass away. I positioned behind him and methodically started to lick his exposed boy hole. He moaned and cringed, erotic sensations rocketing from his asshole, but was still tense.

Lapping at his tight hole, I got it real wet, sticking my tongue inside some too. He was a real asshole freak and couldn't prevent himself from moaning and writhing, riding his tender hole upon my probing tongue.

"Ok, that's enough, man," he cautioned, aware his ass was still in the perfect position for fucking.

"Let me go, 'k?" he said, looking over his shoulder.

Raising, momentarily, I went to the work bench and opened a box.

"Whacha doin?" he beseeched.

"Let me go, Angelo!"

Standing in front of him, I showed him what I'd gotten. He begged and pleaded with me to not use it, but I merely laved it up with lubricant, directly in front of his bulging eyes.

"I ain't no faggot, Angelo," he explained, tears welling in his eyes.

"You can't put that in me, man," he insisted.

"If I don't you won't get anymore chronic," I told him.

His eyes widened, as if to say, 'CHRONIC!' I'd totally forgot about that!

"Yeah," I asserted, "No more chronic." Then, in a totally unmerciful act, I held up a syringe, all ready to be injected. He stared at it, licking his lips, then looked back at me.

"Decisions, decisions," I taunted, waving the needle before his eyes.

Holding the pointy headed dildo back up, I licked it lewdly. He stared at it, but offered no further protest. Applying a fresh coat of lube on it, I watched to see if he'd go off again. Staring at my every move, he remained silent, desperate for his fix.

I circumvented his trussed up body, stopping at his upturned, round ass. He craned to look over his shoulder, sheer terror in his eyes, but said nothing.

Positioning the head at his asshole, I slowly pushed the six inch dildo up his tunnel.

"Noooooo!" he yelped, struggling. "Take it out! TAKE IT OUT!" he yelped, writhing about. I continued pushing, its length sinking into his quivering hole causing my dick to drip on the floor.

Damn, such precious, full, round melons, spread wide, its drum tight hole snapping tight around an invading dildo. He screamed and writhed, more because he didn't want to be punked than from the pain.

Holding the dildo in place, I turned the little motor on and watched him squirm.

"Ummmmm!" he wiggled, his asshole quivering around the vibrating dildo. Like clockwork, his dick hardened, spearing down between his legs. He shuddered and wiggled, sensing the vibration deep inside his tunnel, his dick helplessly hard, but still protested.

"Take it out, man! Take it out, it hurts!"

Slowly fucking him for a few minutes, I watched as he cringed, the vibrating dildo caressing his sensitive hole. Finally obliging his requests, I pulled it out, his asshole making an audible pop when it slipped out. Sliding the length of my finger across his aching hole, I watched him tense up again. His cheeks were so spread, I could easily navigate his valley, my finger raking across his tender hole.

His toes curled, telling me this was definitely hot, but he never relaxed. Pouring more lube between his voluptuous cheeks, I finally turned my finger to enter him. The first portion slid in so easily, he was penetrated again before he knew it.

"Sssss…. Owwww!" he yelled, gripping the legs of the horse with his hands.

Pushing ever so gently, I slipped my finger in, splitting his asshole around it. Deeper and deeper I sunk, rubbing my digit across the soft bulge inside. He wanted to curse me and order me to stop, but I'd found a spot deep inside his tunnel and he didn't know what to do.

"Ssssssss… Ahhhhh!" he moaned, his quivering hole gripping my finger.

Driving my finger mercilessly across his throbbing prostate, I watched as he trembled, purely shaken with sheer delight.

"Shit!…. Ahhhhh…. No! Take it out!" he yelled, realizing he was surrendering to the forbidden passion.

Manipulating him again, I stroked his hole, smiling to myself as his ass rose up in the air, climbing up on my finger. Shuddering, he hissed, folding his toes down on his soles, wrinkling them that way I like. Yeah, he was a definite pussyboy!

Pouring plentiful amounts of lubricant on my throbbing boyfucker, I positioned behind, him, making sure to continue the stimulation to his boy hole. Exchanging my probing finger with my splitting hard mantool, I lined up behind him.

Sensing my dick, prying his asshole apart, Rakim screamed,

"Nooooooo, Angelo!!! Stop it, bitch! I ain't no fuckin faggot, man! Don't fuck me….. pleeeeez!"

Holding his jiggling boy hips steady, I found my mark and pushed, bearing down on his vice-tight hole. It snapped down, holding me back for an instant, then parted, allowing my wedge to worm in.

Rakim screamed bloody murder, that arrogant, bad-boy attitude of his crushed as he felt his ass ring spread around my invading dick. Sobbing and yelling, he pleaded with me to not take his asshole, but I was well on the way inside.

Socketing the wide, battering ram head of my dick within his drumtight, hole, I held him on top of it, his futile attempts to free himself delightful. He screamed and writhed, trying to dislodge himself, but I kept advancing painful inch by inch up his tender hole.

His virgin hole a ring of fire as it stretched wide to receive my relentless girth, he repeated his assertion that it hurt, and I imagine that it did. Writhing about on the table, he screamed expletives at me, swearing to kill everyone in my family, including my "mama!" Like soft butter against a hot knife his asshole split, despite his objections, sweetly clutching around another inch.

Holding him captive, I impaled him, delighting in all the sensations his quivering hole was coursing through my body. Snapped tight around my ample width, it jiggled like jello. Warm, wet and soft sensations sucked at my dick as his ass rode up on it. For all the days I'd dripped my juices, looking at it, I still couldn't believe it was so fucking delectable.

Gazing down at his perfectly round globes, I thanked the lord above for a chance to split them. Bouncing around my dick like two cushiony basketballs, I almost blew my load watching them.

Rakim continued cursing my family, promising me and them a painful death, as his asshole spread around more of my dick.

"Take it out!" he pleaded, looking over his shoulder, straining to see how much he'd taken. Unfortunately, he'd only taken half. Straining to look he beseeched: "Is it in? Don't fuck, me Angelo! How much is in?"

"Half," I taunted, pushing another millimeter in.

Screaming again, he shook so hard, the table jolted.

"Mutha fuckin' bitch!" he lambasted, spittle dribbling out his mouth.

"You too fuckin' big, bitch!" he screamed, holding on to the legs of the horse.

"It hurt! Take that shit out, god damn, booty bustin' faggot!"

"Seems like you the faggot," I scoffed, jamming more of my length into him.

"AHHHHH!…I AIN'T NO FAGGOT!" he screamed, shuddering.

"I hope you like raping little boys!" he derided, trying to shame me. I rewarded him with another inch.

"AHHHHHH!! B-I-T-C-H!!!" he writhed.

"You such a big man, take it," I chided, inching a few more millimeters up his tunnel.

"FUCKIN' BITCH!" Twisting and thrashing about, he struggled upon more of my club.

Leaning over him, I edged a few more inches up his asshole, slowing when I felt close to blasting my load.

"Get off me, bitch!" Contorting and wiggling, he fought to dislodge himself again. That only served to push his ass further up on my dick, so he quickly stopped.

"AHHHHHHH!" he yelled, more of my dick prodding his hole.

Squirming and writhing, he endured the embarrassment, his asshole finally totally impaled on my nearly nine inches. Realizing he'd been mercilessly deflowered, he slumped on the horse, completely humiliated. He was a virgin no more and his worse nightmare had become a reality. Despite all his resistance, he was a little faggot, his asshole wrapped around another man's dick. Broken, he fought back the tears, enraged I'd taken his ass. He'd never be the same and it was all because of drugs.

From the beginning he'd suspected I intended to dick his asshole, but I'd thrown him off, waiting so long. And all that getting high and sucking my dick and shit was to no avail!

If he'd known the skanchy bitch was going to plow his field, he wouldn't have never licked his hole. God Damn! He lamented, he'd licked that fuckin' punk's hole like some kind of fucking bitch. And for what? All so the fuckin' child molester could get him in the position he was in now, spread atop a table, his ass in the air with 8-1/2 inches rammed down his hole!

Rakim looked back at me, violated and shamed. All his fighting subsiding, I surmised that , though it probably hurt, splitting his little ass around so many inches, his ego was the real victim.

Defeated, he lay lifeless, the same length that caused him to scream before, apparently of no consequence now. Ain't it just great the way these little street punks fight because they don't want to be punked?

Laying atop him, I slowly raised my ass, extracting my pole from his gripping tunnel. Rakim hissed as he felt my butt plug slide out his hole. It was sheer heaven, feeling the boy's quivering chute stroke my withdrawing bone. Like thousands of rippling fingers it caressed my length, pleading with it to not leave.

Pulling more than half my rod out, I reversed direction, burying all of it to the hilt in his hole. Rakim's head raised up off the table as I advanced, gasps of an unknown nature escaping his mouth.

Pulling out again, I rose even higher, stopping just shy the head of my dick, then sunk home again. The boy visibly trembled this time, his hole spreading to receive my returning girth.

"Fuck!" he whispered, biting on his lower lip.

Locking my arms under and over his shoulders, I wrenched up on his body for my next thrust, holding him captive as I plowed him. Shuddering again, he moaned, raising his head high against my enveloping body.

"Fuck!" he exhaled again, closing his eyes.

Holding him tightly in my vise grip, I pulled out and sunk home again. His tender hot breath rippled across my arms, locked beneath his shoulders, as he gasped. Seeing he'd totally surrendered, I lay my head next to his, pecking him tenderly on his cheek as I fucked.

He trembled beneath each downthrust, rubbing his cheek against mine tenderly in turn. Damn, homeboy was really being punked!

"Uuuuuhhhhhh!" he trembled, relaxing his ass muscles to receive me deeper. We were fucking like two rabid dogs, now, his ass gradually rising to meet my thrusting ramrod.

Astonished, he writhed about, sensing my dick stroking that delicate bulge deep inside his hole. Fuckin' faggots, he thought, no wonder they always fuckin' each other.

"Fuck," he hissed, biting down on my arm. Sinking his teeth into the flesh, he labored to relieve the powerful sensation, mounting in his asshole.

"An-ge-lo," he murmured, biting my arm again. Shut the fuck up, he thought, terrified his true feelings would leap out. Gnawing at my arm, he rode my dick, a fire igniting deep inside his tunnel. Whatever he was sensing, it was going to knock the shit out of him, maybe literally!

"Fuck," he cooed, determined to squelch what he really wanted to scream. Watching him writhe and tremble I realized his ass was enjoying its first fuck. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I held on for dear life as I pummeled his hole, ramming my dick deeper and deeper up his chute.

Trembling like a leaf in the wind, a growl started from within his soul, his asshole quivering around my dick. Holding the frenetic note an extended time, he wailed, his own dick swelling between his legs. His toes opening and closing like mad, he howled, the words he'd fought to contain, leaping from his throat.

"Fuck me!!" he elated, shaking wildly, sliding his asshole upon my dick.

"Aw FUCK!" he exclaimed, his body convulsing. His dick leaped, spewing its contents onto the floor but he hardly noticed it. It was his quivering ass that had him screaming like a banshee. Somehow he was experiencing something equivalent to an orgasm, deep inside his ass and he couldn't believe it.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck it bitch!" he screamed, spreading his ass wider.

Collapsing atop the horse, he gave up all control, surrendering his asshole to my dick. He was my bitch now, his asshole my pussy. Relaxing every muscle in his body, he slumped, granting my dick full passage within his tender walls. Grunting and wailing, he relished the sheer delight of having his hole thoroughly plowed by a dick.

"Fuck my ass," he surrendered, struggling to spread his already wide splayed legs even wider.

Sensing another wave, starting deep up his hole, he cried out again, his body quivering once more.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" he wailed, squeezing his asshole around my dick. Feeling it tighten again, I could hold on no longer.

Biting into his shoulder, I pistoned my dick into his hole. It sucked at my length, milking all 8 1/2 inches of it. Screaming myself, now, I felt my dick spurt, hot cum splattering inside the boy, washing his raw, sensitive walls. He shook like a washing machine, his rifle firing another time, steamy boy liquid squirting out his untouched pole, stinging the floor.

Holding him like there was no tomorrow, I rammed my dick over and over inside his hole until it emptied. His asshole was still quivering long after I'd stopped stroking him. It was if it was checking to make sure I was still there.

My dick still lodged up his tunnel, I ground into his ass and whispered,

"When you ready for another 'hit', let me know."

"Fuck you, bitch!" he spat.

"No, I think that’s more about you now," I said, humping one last time. "Oh, and by the way…. I really ain't a police officer," I added, screwing my still hard dick into him again.

"FUCK!" he wailed.

Round Two Over!