Date: Thu, 9 Sep 2004 04:30:20 EDT From: Jarrod749@aol.com Subject: Quarry Hole. Chapter 11. Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys. The acts are consensual and are a result of their love or lust for one another. Please write: jarrod749@aol.com. I would love to hear if you like my story. Quarry Hole. Chapter 11. Graig opened the cage and booted Kurt through it. John came up to the cage and planted Kurt's face in the oatmeal slop, dropped the bowl, locked the cage, fastened the leash to Graig's collar, and walked the boy back up stairs, shutting the light. He gave Graig the clothes Kurt had worn that day, but didn't give him any socks or sneaks. They both dressed and John walked Graig out to the truck. As they walked past the basement door, Graig thought of Kurt down there in the dark, sadly looking down with clumps of oatmeal paste hanging from his face. He started getting hard thinking of the moment John had taken that shoehorn whipper, rolled Kurt over onto his shoulders, spread his legs out and whipped his balls and that spot right behind 'em. A jerk on the leash and Graig stumbled forward out the door. Graig climbed in, and John followed, starting the truck, pulling the door shut. "Get on it dude," John ordered. Graig stared....question marks all over his face. John yanked hard on the leash, and pulled the kid to his fly...."Any time you with me fum now on faggot, you be hangin' on my cock with yer soft pussypetal lips, less'n I tell you to get off. Now get me out and start chowin'." Quarry Hole. Chapter 11. Whewww!! Was that a breath suckin' shock to Graig. The flip-floppin' between slave and master from minute-to-minute was making his head spin. Now with no choice, he grappled with John's zipper trying to please him as fast as he could....and the more he hurried, the fumbler he got, and John was getting even more impatient.... constantly rapping on the back Graig's head and neck. Having had enough of this, John short-stopped, sending the boy sailing off the seat to floor board smacking the back of his head into the dash on the way down. Then John gave a hard yank on the choke chain as the kid did his best to get back up and into his lap to serve his cockmaster. As his head surfaced above the edge of the seat, with one hand pulling the leash, John waled Graig's face with the other making him let out with a yowling boy-yelp, as he scurried into John's lap again both hands working that zipper, button and fly freeing the prickmonster inside for a vacuuming he hoped John would be pleased enough with that he would forget the mess-up in getting him out. John put the truck back in gear and headed back out to get Graig home while he got him off. As they pulled up in front of Graig's house, John had his hand down hard on the back Graig's neck as he humped up into the kid's gagging throat. He got the thrill from having gotten off earlier, that he could make this fuckfeed last the whole trip to Graig's place. While the truck idled right in front of the boy's own house, John pumped him full of cockseed and wouldn't let the gasping pussyboy up until the absolute last dick spasm had passed and Graig's tongue went quiet. He released Graig, and the boy slowly, tentatively, slipped off John's hefty meat. The grooved piss-slit looked angry as Graig continued to stare down at it as he raised his head up. He got little chance to contemplate his last ten minutes in that truck as he took a fierce backhand from John, who yelled, "Get the fuck out you little queer, and I bettah see yuh wit'cher paws up at the machine shop after school tomorrow dickweed. Graig couldn't get his stinging face out of there fast enough, but he forgot he was still on the leash. As he stepped to the ground, John yanked him face down into the seat again, and pulled him up by the hair and in a hoarse whisper, he growled....you keep that butt plug up you, fucker....that means no shittin'....and....no fuckin' cummin' either. He detached the leash and pushed the kid off the seat, and over on his buttplug in the grass, hitting the gas with the truck door swinging out there before he slowed, reached over and pulled it shut. Barefoot, sprawled in the grass Graig unconsciously rubbed his face jerking his hand away from spreading the slop of drying spit and cum...."Ughhhh!" Hmmmm, master wouldn't be happy if he knew that Graig wasn't happy to be wearing his Johnjelly. Graig felt the buttplug as well as the weight of the choke collar. He staggered to get up and made his way to the garage where he hoped he could cover his condition before he went inside. John was whistling along with a pop tune on the radio as he drove on home where Kurt was groveling in the bottom of the dog cage, his face caked in dried oatmeal slop. His solitude in the darkness of the damp basement did not make it any better. He was mostly awake, but often found himself dropping off. He couldn't tell whether he was dreaming or consciously reviewing his short few years since this all came to be his life. He was about nine maybe, that afternoon when his older brother had come home from school, the only thing on his mind being to rub one off in the privacy of the shower, like every other young teen. Kurt had innocently gone into the bathroom to take a leak, and was caught by the strange movement he could see through the frosted shower door. He could swear his brother was doubled up and got scared. He lunged for the door handle, rolled it back, and was shocked to see his brother pulling frantically on his cock....as big a cock as Kurt had ever seen....John's eyes were squeezed shut and with his knees bent way down, his butt was bucking back and forth and his left hand was rigid under his balls. Kurt jumped back away from shots of white ropey boy spunk fired from his brother's crank yankin'. "Ohhh-hhh-hh....f-u-u-c-c-k-k-k!!! Ohhhhh ummmm...uhhhh...fuck yehhh!!" John moaned in his cumjoy. Kurt was frozen. He still didn't know if his brother was in pain or what the fuck it was....he wanted to reach to his brother and help him, but just froze...and with a mouth hung open...eyes wide as saucers, his 13 year old brother's eyes opened. John stood bent-kneed and frozen himself in his embarrassing afterjack.... Kurt couldn't even think in his shock. John screamed, "You dirty little fuck!" Then a hand shot out from under his balls and cuffed Kurt across the face. He was so crazy he couldn't even think either, and dragged his younger brother, sneaks, clothes and all, over the tub wall into shower spray, shoved him to his knees and shoved his cummy dick into his face, his lips and then forced it into his mouth. "No teeth, fucker....NO FUCKIN' TEETH!!!" Kurt shuddered there in the bottom of the dog cage when he thought of that first cocksuck. How his tongue betrayed him and swashed all over his big brother's prick head that first time. How he tasted cum for the first time whether he knew it or not. How he gagged soon after that first rough entry when his brother steeled up again and probed the back of his mouth...jabbing at his throat and air supply. How he couldn't believe his nose and face were being banged back and forth into his brother's pubes. He remembered the muffled sounds coming from inside his own mouth as the facefuck went on and on and then the ultimate....the squirt of gooey slop that covered his tongue and spread all over his mouth which was pasted to John's groin.....then he had heard from above him, "Swallow my stuff, faggot! You swallow it! I wanna feel that tongue working my dick while you swallah my jizz." The next moments were almost a lost memory for Kurt who was unceremoniously stripped of the wet clothes, dried by his brother and hauled by an arm down the hall on his ass to their room where John got him dressed and ordered him to sit on his bed and not move. John went back and cleaned the mess in the bathroom, rinsed the shower of any spooge dribble, then ran down to the dryer with the wet clothes and towel. With plenty of time before the 'rents got in, he could take care of terrorizing Kurt into keeping quiet about what had just happened. As Kurt whimpered in the dark basement, he really didn't know what John did in that space of time when he left Kurt sitting on the bed like an obedient little soldier. But....he sure remembered what happened after John came back from the laundry room, still naked, and slammed the door of the bedroom they shared. "Listen to me you little fuck!" he railed as he stormed over in front of the trembling little dude, who bent back and away from the pointing finger in his face. "This is between you and me, shitears...and if you tell another soul, you gonna be one sorry fucker! Got it? YOU GOT IT?" he demanded. "Ye-ye-yehhhh-yesss...Iyuh....yeh..." he stammered. "Good....and don't forget it," he yelled again as he smacked a hand to the back of Kurt's neck and gripped it tight, yanking the kid off the bed onto his knees again. John pulled Kurt's face across his newly swelled prickmeat and balls...back and forth and back and forth..."Getcher tongue on it dude. Yer face's gonna be living right there fum now on, queerass. Let's you get right back on it and getcher big bro off one more once, eh?" he sarcastically snarled down at the boy as he yanked his head around and slammed him back on his cock again. As the weeks and months passed, John shared his little brother with his buds, and a few years later when the big kids got into the dad's beer, they took Kurt's pussyass the first time, and that was maybe 3 years ago. That night ended with Kurt spending his first night in the old dog cage in the basement. That night they also made the young dude eat dog food that was left from when they still owned a dog. Tonight, Kurt lay in a fetal roll on his side with the bars of the cage digging into his naked skin, wearing the food, the oatmeal this time, he'd been fed earlier. It's not clear if Kurt even knew what a normal kid's day was anymore. He really only knew service to his brother and his friends anymore, even t he new little punk, Graig tonight....and for who knows how long into the future. What had been done to him over the years seemed to burst out when he and the others had punked Shuey and Paul the other day at the quarry. He was his friends' leader by default because he was toughest and gruffest more than likely. And he was the one who seemed to make the whole afternoon turn into a boysex'travaganza. John turned onto his street and could see his buddy's truck parked out front of his house. He rolled by waving as he turned into the drive and pulled up to the garage. His two buds got out of their truck, knowing it was party time when they saw it was after dinner time and no parents' cars were there. John slapped hands with the others as they hit the steps....John said, "I was thinking we'd order pizza....that way the kid can have somethin' strange tonight." The big lecherous grin on his face betrayed the nature of the scheme. It wouldn't be the first time they offered a 'special' tip to a delivery kid. Shuey and Paulie had had dinner at Paul's after they got back from the quarry. They couldn't get over how things changed from their being the butts, literally, of jokes, and their longtime buddies' dicks....for everything to have turned to Kurt, and now Graig, being made into fuckboys. After dinner, the kids found some play time with a few video games in Paul's room. Boy, what a change from the other day when they cried into each other's shoulders after they'd accidentally been 'outed' in front of everybody at the swimming hole. Rubbing himself, Paulie suggested after a while that they go outside and find a quiet spot to 'play'. After dinner, Scott and Mark had gotten together like usual and were shuffling on over to the park aimlessly. The novelty of their sexplay these last days, in spite of the new stuff that happened seemingly every fucking day, was no longer shock to them, as much as it was something to plot and plan for the next day's activities. They were gonna have another coupla new dudes for quarry play the next day. That second kid from the cafeteria who wanted Kurt to blow him was gonna bring his brother for Kurt to service the both of them. They were wondering if the new kids would end up like Graig did....being had by the whole bunch of them and then walked naked out of the quarry and left jacking off....on his back in the street....all by himself. They were both digging into their pockets to rearrange hardening cocks what with all the dick talk they were into as they made it over to the softball field dugouts. Mark legged it over to the mound and made like a pitcher winding up and throwing an imaginary fast ball, while Scott sat down short of the 3d base line in the grass of the infield. Mark made whisper-cheering noises of the imaginary crowd, tipping his cap having struck out his 'batter,' then flopped to his knees in front of Scott. Scott looked down at the grass he was digging his hands into. Without looking up at his bud he said. "I'm hard man....can't help it. All this fuck fun we been havin'...my mind's on it alla time." Mark smiled to himself, and said, "Shit man...how kin we help it? We been non-stop funning mouth and ass...and even a new dude every fuckin' day. It's like a fuckin' banquet fer our dicks. I rubbed off twice soon's I got home...even after the afternoon bang-aroun' we had." Scott looked up....sheepish, and said, "Ha! Yeh...me too! Couldn't get my hand off it." Mark looked down and seeing Scott rubbing his pants, laughing, he said, "No shit, dude....yuh still can't," pointing at his buddy, who pulled his hand away. A silence hung over them for a long moment....then suddenly, they both were looking down when they blurted out simultaneously, "Wanna help each other out, dude?" They both smiled wide, and Mark clasped his bud's hand....holding tight for a long moment. In the dark of the evening, it was easier for such guilty boysex talk when they really couldn't see each other's face that well. In seconds, Mark was zipping down, Scott too, soon after. They looked hard and long all around them...then listened for anyone who might be approaching. Satisfied that they were alone, they looked toward each other's face....touched hands, and then Mark pulled Scott's hand to his prick. He jumped when the strange hand squeezed his dick in his boxers. He at first resisted when Scott's other hand, after guiding Mark's to his open fly, he felt Scott's hard boytool standing out of his fly already. Scott swooned there for a long glorious moment, then his free hand cupped Mark's neck and brushed his cheek against his pal of so many years....pulling....presssing down....his lips to his buddy's ear, he begged, "Please Mark....please...do this for me....please do it for me." Mark's lip touched cockhead, and he pulled back and away, but Scott increased the massaging pressure to the back of his friend's neck.....down....and lips....on....the precum drooze wet the boy's lips. They opened, the boycock....it snaked through.... over buddy tongue. Scott shivered with both the first lip touch....then the tingling slide of the top of that velvety steel hard cockhead across the boy's ribbed palate. "Oohhh-h-h-h-h," he warbled, trembled, bucked up as his sphincter tightened down on his hole, and his boyprick recoiled inside Mark's mouth, "Ohhhhhgoddddddd....oh Marrrrkkk...ahm shootin'.. shootin'.....shootin' mannnnnnnnnn!!!!" Scott kept bucking up, body quaking in the grass....the super cum surge was more than Mark could handle....but he shivered two and three more times when his buddy's tongued pressed the oozing cock up against the roof of his mouth. He was actually aware enough to know what he felt inside Mark's mouth....it didn't feel sloggy-soggy anymore....but was more sticky-like....and dry....Mark's lips were still making like a guppy's mouth over the kid's still rock hard root. Scott, squeezed his massaging hand on the back of Mark's neck.....then leaned in and down, and whispered into Mark's ear...."Did you swallow me, dude...did you.....ohh man.....didju eat my stuff???" shivering again as his cock tingled....hard....pulsed.... Please write and tell me if you like my story. Send comments to jarrod749@aol.com Positive and negative comments welcome. For other stories, see JARROD on the Authors Page.