Date: Sun, 8 Jun 2008 00:41:55 +0100
From: port_pass <port_pass@hotmail.com>
Subject: Thinking back #29

Author: Alex, from Portugal
E-mail: port_pass@hotmail.com

Any feedback will be much appreciated.

This story may have non-consensual sex between males. Don't read it if
you're not legally allowed to or if it might disturb you.


Part 29

Fortunately, I wasn't denied the bliss of a profound, innocent sleep all
through the night. As I woke up, there was even a moment when the world
seemed perfectly normal and I was still just an ordinary schoolboy
savouring the Sunday morning pleasure of not having to get up early.

Suddenly, the stabbing pain in my brutalized arse woke me up and reminded
me of the cruel reality of what my life had turned into those last
days. The wetness between my thighs informed me that during the night my
loose sphincter had leaked out the cumload dumped inside me by my brother
before I went to sleep. As for Carlos, he slept contently in his own bed
across the room.

I didn't cry, but a heavy sadness fell on me, like the weight of the whole
world was crushing me down. I stared at the ceiling, in the dark, trying to
keep my mind blank, until the urge to piss drove me out of bed.

As I slowly tried to get up, I almost yelled in pain. My muscles and joints
seemed to protest against the end of the restful inactivity during sleep,
after the strain my young body had been put through. Now, the numbing pain
all over my body was even worse than the day before. Taking a shit (and
expelling my brother's semen in the process) was agony for my raw arse,
even pissing hurt, as my penis was sore from all the unwilling orgasms with
which my body had betrayed me to my abusers.

I took a long warm shower, enjoying its soothing effect. I came out of it
feeling better and more prepared to face another day of my new miserable
life.

Just as I was drying myself (being careful not to touch my hyper-sensitive
nipples), mom knocked on the door and reminded me that I had to get ready
for mass. One of the many inconveniences of my new catholic school was that
we were supposed to go to mass every Sunday morning at the school's private
chapel. With the relaxing discipline after the 1974 revolution, it was no
longer a strict rule, but mom insisted that I do it anyway.

She's religious in her way, but didn't go to mass a lot herself, back
then. As to dad, he always said that since he had to go to mass every day
when he was going to the same school, he already had a credit of masses for
the rest of his life.

Usually I wasn't too enthusiastic about having to go to mass, but this time
the idea pleased me, as I suddenly realised that I couldn't rely on
anything but divine intervention to get me out of my predicament. In the
least, spending the morning at church seemed a safe enough way to keep out
of trouble.

With these thoughts, I got dressed, being careful not to wake up
Carlos. Next, I had a particularly abundant breakfast, even for my usual
appetite. I was starved, as I hadn't had much to eat the day before.

As I walked out, Mom insisted that I had to go to the office of the bus
company to try to retrieve my subscription card, so I wouldn't have to pay
fare on the way home and when I went to school the next morning. I felt a
cold shiver when I thought of how I had come to be without the bus card and
the chain of events that had generated from that, but I managed to brush
the ugly thoughts away. As a sign of my good star that morning, the bus
conductor was not the one that raped me, and was actually a woman (one of
the first we saw on the job, another sign that the times had changed in
Portugal in those first couple of years after the 1974 revolution).

As it was, I ended up arriving at school about an hour early. The chapel
seemed to be the safest place to avoid any bad encounters, so I went in and
sat in a corner. The church was still empty, except for the school choir
rehearsing in one of the side altars. Under the direction of Father Cirilo,
the music teacher, the choir was composed of a dozen boys, some from my
class and some older. I felt a cold shiver when I saw my self-appointed
pimp Nuno in the choir, as well as Sergio, my other best friend, or should
I say former best friend. After Nuno and him made me suck their cocks in
the school toilets, he didn't want to be seen with a sissy like me. The two
"clients" Nuno had brought to my own bedroom the morning before were also
there. The rest of the boys, I knew them from school: a couple of them were
in my class and the rest only from sight.

Seeing how pure and innocent they all looked, with their angelical voices
and their immaculate white robes, I actually managed to take my mind away
from the fact that I had already been forced into mortal sin with a third
of the boys in the choir, and just tried to enjoy their harmonious voices
and elevating sacred music.

The rehearsal was soon over, though, and the boys disbanded noisily along
the side aisle of the nave, in spite of the efforts of Father Cirilo to
quiet them down. As he saw me in my corner, Nuno immediately came towards
me. Just his presence made me nervous, but the holiness of the place
somehow made me feel safe from his abuse, as if the Church's ancient right
of sanctuary sheltered me from harm.

Nuno sat beside me, stretching his legs forward and resting his arms on the
back of the wooden bench. "Hello bitch, have you come to try to clean your
filthy sins?" he chuckled. I didn't reply, just trying to ignore his
remark, but that didn't discourage him. "It's just perfect that you showed
up early," he said, "I still have my morning boner and I can't be in mass
with a hard dick, can I?" He signalled down with a wink and I saw he was
pushing his crotch up, making his hard dick tent up the white robe.

"Come on, Nuno. We're in church, you can't possibly be serious that we
would do anything HERE", I tried to argue. "Of course not, silly!" he
answered, getting up. "Follow me, I know just the place". Seeing that I had
stayed sit, his tone of voice turned suddenly cold. "I said FOLLOW ME" he
commanded, at the same time pulling me to my feet by my hair. I whimpered
in pain and stood up. He slapped my arse and barked at me, "Move that fat
behind, bitch. We don't have all morning".

He pushed me through a small side door. We came to a room that was used to
store the robes for the choir, as well as some musical instruments. I
shivered when I saw that all the other choirboys were there. A few of the
older boys were actually smoking in a corner, puffing the smoke out through
the only window the room had.

As Nuno pushed me into the room, they froze expectantly. I looked at him,
puzzled. I still couldn't believe that he could possibly mean to do
anything sexual in front of all the others, so it came to me as such a
shock when he forced me down on my knees that I didn't even think of
opposing him.

Nuno sent one of the younger boys to watch the door, then pulled up his
white robe and lowered the soccer shorts he was wearing underneath,
exposing his hard dick right in front of my face. There were exclamations
of surprise, as the boys realised what was going to happen. My two
"clients" were next to us in a flash, openly rubbing their crotches under
the white robes and cheering Nuno on. Soon the rest were all gathered
around us as well, including Sergio.

"Please Nuno, don't make me do it, not like this, not here", I begged, but
he just slapped his hard boyish cock on my face, and ordered me to open my
mouth. I started to cry, but did as he told me, and he shoved his dick
inside. I could hear the amazed exclamations of the boys around us as they
saw me sucking off Nuno.

"Oh man, he sucks cock for real!" I heard one say. "I told you," one my
previous clients retorted, "this sissy bitch is a great cocksucker, and
takes it up the arse too". I shivered at the thought that Nuno could
actually want to fuck me right there and then, but at the moment I was busy
taking a hard pounding in my mouth, with him firmly holding my head in
place for his assault.

After already enduring being mouth-raped by some huge adult cocks, Nuno's
boyish dick wasn't difficult to handle, though he tried to exhibit his
macho stamina by face-fucking me as hard as he could. The unrestrained
abuse of my warm, juicy mouth soon took the better of him. In a few
minutes, he pushed his cock as deep as he could, and made me gulp down a
generous load of his fresh cum.

As he pulled out, I hoped that the abuse and humiliation would be over, but
he solemnly announced that I was now open for business; there wouldn't be
time to use my arse-pussy, but any of the boys willing to pay would get a
blowjob.

At least I was spared the misery of being arse-fucked in front of them all,
but four of them immediately accepted to pay to be sucked. One of them was
my first client, who was developing a taste for my services, and had the
pocket money to indulge himself. Sadly, Nuno also decided that all the
other seven would be jerked off for free while I sucked the paying
clients. I ended up with a cock in my mouth and one on each hand until all
of them had emptied their youthful nuts.

I swallowed the four loads I sucked out, and most of the cum from the other
seven boys ended up dripping on my face or pasting in my hair, before I was
finally allowed to get up from my knees. My former friend Sergio, for one,
made sure that all of his teen sperm spurted right on my faggot face.

The boys pulled down their white robes and stormed cheerfully out of the
room, heading for their performance in mass. Nuno stayed for last and
patted me on the head. "Good work, bitch. You're taking the job real
easy. I can see you're a natural", he complimented, putting on a
business-like air. He didn't even seem to consider giving me any of the
money he had just made on me.

I found a rag I could use to clean myself up and walked back into the
chapel, now filled with people waiting for mass. I was heading for the
door, but I bumped right into the school principal, Father Augusto, who was
going to officiate the celebration. Before I could react, he pointed to a
free seat in one of the front benches and told me to sit there. I had no
choice but to follow the whole mass, for as much as I wanted to run out of
there.

When the moment of Holy Communion came, I instinctively joined the queue as
the rest of the faithful in my row moved forward. Only as I was about to
kneel in front of Father Augusto did I realise how terribly sinful it would
be to take the Holy Bread in my cum-tasting mouth, but then it was too late
to back off without calling attention on me. I didn't look, but I am sure
all the boys in the choir had their eyes on me, as they saw me kneeling
again, only this time not to satisfy their perverted sexual yearnings.

As I swallowed the Holy Bread, I felt so sick I actually feared I would
throw up right there. With my heart pounding, I turned my back to Father
Augusto and ran out to the street, under the surprised stare of the whole
congregation.

I had came there seeking divine help for my predicament and sanctuary from
abuse, and I had ended up, once again, the victim of male lust.