Date: Fri, 22 Jul 2011 00:31:10 -0400 From: MJ Hirsch Subject: Teen Pop Stars Boy part 2 I'll say it again, there is a little more exposition than usual smut. (If you want straight-up-pervy-fucking check out my "High School: Young Pool Voyeur"!) I got some really nice e-mails and always love to hear what people think, so feel free to give me a shout at dirtypoplover@hotmail.ca. No one's sent me any fetishes or ideas for hijinx Foster and Ian can get up to. I'd love to hear some of your pervy fantasies for these frisky little teens, so do share! Hope you enjoy! -MJ Chapter Two: Ian's New Toy For the next two weeks I do not leave the tour bus once. Nor do I wear a single shred of clothing. Well... more or less... Not that there is any need for either. The inside of the bus contains three compact but comfortable bedrooms, a bathroom with a running shower and hot water, a small living room space with a large screen TV, a couple of sofas and a small kitchenette stocked with plenty to eat and drink (I learn Gus is a fantastic cook.). All behind tinted windows, of course. A necessity, as aside from myself if Ian is on the tour bus he is naked. As I find out the first night the nudity is not sexual, but most of the other activities Ian engages with are. Mickey and Gus remain clothed most of the time, but Ian doesn't and, as I guess I am now an extension of Ian, I am too. The first night is the worst. After the long, naked, erect walk I board the bus, hoping for something that resembles privacy. I quickly learn that's not the case. "Bed time, little buddy," Mickey is saying to Ian, who has flopped onto the couch, his legs spread wide. They are lightly covered in his soft, light blonde hair, and the rest of his body is smooth, even his dick and balls. "Don't I get to play at all tonight?" he asks, pouting. Mickey smiles. "Early morning tomorrow. Twenty minutes and then lights out," I Mickey heads to his room and Gus is starting up the bus. Ian motions at me to come with him. "Do you want me to sleep out here?" I ask tentatively. He laughs. "No way, bitch. You're in my room unless I get sick of you." I follow him. There goes any privacy. Ian's bedroom is at the back of the bus and, I'm guessing, the biggest of the three rooms we pass. There's a double bed, a bedside table and a small dresser. Ian pushes me in and closes the door behind us. His dick is slowly but noticeably inflating. "Now," he says, "We're going to play a little game called doctor. I'm going to pretend to be a doctor and you're going to be my patient." He is rooting through his dresser and he throws me a pair of briefs, at least two sizes too small for me, with Batman print all over them. I am slightly relieved, hoping this means I won't be required to be nude, but I realize he is pulling on a nurses scrubs and, strangely enough, a lab coat, like a doctor's. I barely fit into the briefs. At least half of my butt is hanging out of the back and my dick, which has just managed to soften a little, bulges in the front almost falling out of the leg holes. It doesn't leave much to the imagination, but I don't think that matters to Ian. "Alright," Ian says in a deeper voice, straightening his collar, "So, what seems to be the problem." I hesitate a moment. Ian looks at me expectantly. "Oh, I'm just hear for... a... uh... checkup... doctor." "Right," he responds. He turns around to his dresser, digging through a drawer. "I see that you haven't had a physical in awhile." I roll my eyes, "That's right, doctor. It's been awhile." "Good boys get regular physicals. I'll have to do an extra thorough one. Lay back on the bed and we'll get started." I do so. The bed's pretty comfy. Have to take pleasure in the little things, I guess. Ian begins pretending to check my heart beat and breathing. In doing so he "accidentally" flicks my nipples any chance he gets. I really wish my dick was a little less betraying. As he moves down, pressing down (but really stroking) my chest and stomach it begins to raise again, pressing against the tight fabric. "Everything seems to be in order. Let's check out your back." I flip over, at least this way he can't see my hardon, but I want nothing more than to hump the shit out of the bed. On my back he's all light touches, running his fingers up and down my spine. He feels his way down and cups my ass, "studying it" very intently. He runs a finger over material, pressing down the centre until he reaches my balls. I shudder involuntarily. I just hope he doesn't ask me to... "Alright, turn back over," I wait, willing my dick to shrivel up and fall off. "Don't have very long, and we still have plenty left to check out," he intones in a more normal, impatient Ian voice. I slowly turn over and look down. The little boy's underwear is furthered dwarfed by my dick, now at full mast, which has wriggled its way out of one of the leg holes. Dr. Ian clicks his teeth. "I can see why you hesitated, but don't worry. It's a completely normal reaction for young guys," he stares at my cock for a moment too long. I notice a slight twitching in his scrubs. "Now," he says, his voice cracking slightly, "If you don't mind standing up and removing your underwear." He begins to rub his crotch as I raise from the bed and tug at my waistband. I manage to get the briefs, which feel even tighter now, off of my hips and down around my ankles. My dick jumps upwards, almost slapping against my stomach. "Now, I hope you don't mind," I laugh in my head at this, "But I am going to have to do a very thorough physical, because it's been so long since your last," I glance out of the corner of my eye. So much for not wanting me. Ian is practically salivating. Then again so is my cock. This is the third time today I've been completely hard (well, four if you count the spontaneous erection during math class) and I have yet to get relief. There is a pearl of precum on the very tip already. "Now turn around and lets take a look at your penis," I roll my eyes again. I hope that playacting isn't an ongoing requirement for this job. It's fucking stupid. I face him, and he leans in and studies my dick. He's very, very close, close enough that I can feel his heavy breath. I almost swoon at the heat rushing over my cockhead. Normally not given to such animalistic urges, it takes everything in me to stop myself from grabbing the back of his head and fucking his throat raw. "Alright," he says, "Lay down." Once on the bed he leans over and begins to study my thighs. I shiver as his touch, prodding and stroking, moves up to my balls. He cups them in his hands, one at a time, studying them very closely. Again, his breath on my crotch is driving me wild. Finally, he grabs my cock in his hand and begins massaging it, moving it back and forth. Ian runs his fingers over the head and down again, catching some of the precum on his finger and studying the substance as if he's never seen it before. "Very good, everything's working just fine," he brings the fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. "Now turn over again please." As I do so he places a pill beneath my stomach, propping my ass up into the air, vulnearable. He has a bottle of lube that he is squeezing into his right hand. My heart begins to pump faster. Fuck, what do I do? I... He is pulling my ass cheeks apart and running his hand down my bare crack. I am shivering, a mixture of pleasure and terror. "Ian..." I say, the lube is cold and I can see the goosebumps on my arms. "Ian." I say louder, beginning to squirm. His fingers reach my pucker of a hole. Its like an electric shock. The tip of his finger begins to push in, I jump and roll over, away from him. "IAN!" "Shut the fuck up! Get back on your front!" "No!" "Do you want me to kick you off this bus right now? That can be arranged. Lay down, now!" "Ian, no... please..." he stares at me warily. "I'm... a virgin." Ian scoffs. "Down there." He watches me for a moment, the room is still, the only sound is the hum of the moving bus and the lube dripping off his hand onto the floor. I look at him, pleading. "I'm not going to fucking rape you," he says, picking up the underwear and wiping the lube off of them. He sits down on the bed by me but isn't looking at me anymore. He's deep in thought. "Got take a shower if you want," he motions towards the door. "First door on your left." I crawl out of bed and go to the door. As I'm opening it he calls out, "Don't you dare jerk off in there. I'm not willing to force you, but I'm going to make sure you end up begging me to." Outside the door I can see Mickey X staring from the living room. He gives me the thumbs up as I make my way into the bathroom. I feel better in the shower, although the urge to get off is absolutely unbearable. Seeing as there's no lock on the door and Ian could check on me, also I guess he'd be able to tell if I leaked afterwards, I resist the urge. I have a feeling he'd devise some punishment or another, and seeing as he has an increasingly sadistic imagination that's something I'd rather not incur. It takes some coaxing and good amount of cold water before my dick is more or less soft. There's no towels, so fuck it, I walk back into Ian's room dripping wet. He's naked again, bent over the dresser, and points to a towel on the end of the bed. I begin to towel myself off. This is ridiculous. He's going to apparently control everything down to if I get to dry myself off or not. He turns around with a smile on his face, holding something behind his back. "I have something for you to wear." He brings out something cold and shiny. It's a chastity belt. An honest to God chastity belt. All leather and metal. A big lock on the front and back straps. "You're shitting me." He smirks, "It's your colour. Put it on," I don't move, "Or maybe it would better on your little brother while he gets facefucked by a sixty year old." I could kill him. Someday I will get back at him. Someday I will make him wish he'd never taken me in. The harness attaches in the front and in the back, with a thick, tight cup that flattens my dick between my legs. "I'll let you out twice a day," he says sweetly, "So you can shower and go to the washroom." As he is pulling the device shut, his small, teenage hands adjusting the locks, I can feel my dick swell up in the device. He laughs as I grunt and move around. It doesn't hurt, exactly, but it's the most uncomfortable feeling in the world. "Maybe if you beg me enough, if you sincerely ask me to fuck you in the ass, we can get rid of it, and maybe if you're good enough I'll even get you off," he holds the keys in front of my face. "Until then I'll let Mickey take care of these." Mickey X calls for lights out and we lay down, both of us as far apart on the bed as possible. As pent up as I am, and as tight and uncomfortable as the belt is, I am exhausted from the day and fall asleep quickly. The steady rumbling of the road under us definitely helps. During the night I wake up to noise. For a moment everything is dark and I don't know where I am. I see someone standing over me and I start. Then I realize. Ian Hart. Ian Hart is standing beside the bed, beating off. We lock eyes and he lets out a muffled groan. Something wet hits my shoulder, and then my lips. He keeps pumping and his jizz is all over my chest and face. With one final pump he moans quietly and collapses onto the bed. I sigh and move over to make room for him. To my surprise once I do so he wraps his arms around me and leans his cheek against my back. I brace myself for some sort of groping or equal violation, but we fall asleep like this. This continues for almost every night I spend with Ian, ever. Hell is other people stopping your orgasms. Seriously, I thought orgasms were only good for a little gratification everyone once and awhile, maybe a good way to make five bucks without touching a guy, but when you are physically restrained, there is nothing you want more than to get yourself off. And Ian doesn't help. Over the next two weeks the bus moves from place to place, and I can only catch our location by looking out for roadsigns. Fresno, San Jose, San Franscisco, Portland, Seattle. Malls and music stores and arenas fly by. During the day time Ian is at signings, autograph sessions, doing radio and TV interviews, concerts in the evenings. I'm left by myself on the bus, free to do anything but masturbate. Its fine, because he has so many movies, books and video games, and I can eat whatever and wherever I want and I'm left practically completely alone, locked in of course. Every night, though, unless he has some sort of special appointment or interview he is at home driving me increasingly insane. The night after he installs the harness onto me Ian returns home with Mickey X and Gus to find me wearing a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt. He is not happy. "Take them off," he growls. I go towards the bedroom but he commands, "Here." I glare at him and begrudgingly slide out of the clothing. Gus and Mickey both stifle sniggers when they see the belt. "Remember when we bought him that?" Mickey says reminiscently, flopping down onto the couch and cracking open a beer, "Had no idea why until little Ee made me lock him in---" "X," Ian says, picking up the clothing I've discarded. "Shut the fuck up. You do not touch my things unless I give you spoken permission. Is that clear?" He is stripping down now, my dick twitches but I have more or less controlled it all day. He grabs me roughly and pulls me close, down onto the ground, manuevering me so I'm layed over his lap. For such a smaller guy he is pretty strong, but then again I know it's useless to put up much of a resistance. His quickly stiffening dick is poking at my abdomen. He raises his arm into the air, and I realize what he's doing. "Ian!" I cry out, but he's quicker than me. He brings his flat palm onto my bare ass. Then he raises it and does the same to the other. Ten slaps each. I try my best not to cry out each time, but by the fifth slap my ass is so tender I can't help it. Worse is the fact that my dick is straining against the restraint material. Ian pushes me off his lap and spreads his legs open. His dick is now sticking straight out. "Suck me off," he commands. I look at Mickey X who is sitting a couple of feet away on the same couch, but Mickey seems more interested in his beer and cell phone. No choice. I crawl up between the international pop star's legs, "And you'd better make it good." Make it good? I want to say that I was going to make it bad, but at this point my ass is screaming at me to be well behaved. I lick my way up his smooth thighs, running my tongue against his salty skin. I nestle my head as deep into his crotch as I can and, panting he lifts his legs slightly so I have full access to his balls. I taste them one by one, lapping at the saltiness, before running my tongue up the base of his cock. I hover at the tip for a moment, licking up the copious precum before taking the full thing down my throat. He gasps and grabs at the back of my head. He wants it good? I'll give him the best blowjob he's ever had. I run my nose over his skin as I continue to deep throat him. I hardly have to do anything. He is thrusting in and out of my mouth himself, panting and clutching at the back of my head. He becomes more and more frantic and with a whimper I feel a warmth flood the back of my throat. I lift my head slightly and gently suck at his cock until I know I have emptied it. I look up and he is staring at me with a serene expression on his face. After a moment he seems to have composed himself enough. "Mickey, give me the keys." X casually reaches into his pocket and pulls out a couple of keys. I almost collapse with relief. It's been almost three whole days and I haven't had release. "Stand up," he commands, and I do, presenting the harness to him, "Walk. Bathroom time." He smirks as he watches my face fall. Following me to the bathroom he swats at my still sensitive ass. The next few weeks Ian makes it his mission, whenever we're together, to get me as boned up as humanly possible. I stop even trying to wear clothes because as soon as Ian sees me he makes me strip and punishes spanks me each time. I am beginning to feel less and less human. I wonder if this is how those people locked up in some stranger's basement for years and years feel. Ian doesn't torture me exactly, but whenever he is in we're either watching porn, he's making me suck or jerk him off, he just makes me watch as he gets himself off, or some combination thereof. He runs his hands all over my body, pinches my nipples, runs his lips all over me except where my dick throbs, trapped in the harness. During the days I'll flip through the satellite channels and see Ian making the news. Thousands of screaming girls stampeding all over the country to get the chance to see his concert. Ian (fully clothed) standing in front of throngs of people smiling impishly and waving his aww-shucks wave. For some reason its these moments that most anger me, watching him pretending to be normal and billions of people all over the world buying it. It makes me more angry than when he's doing what he does to me. The worst part is when he's torturing me I like it. Not the not being able to cum. That part drives me absolutely mad. It's when he's got his hands all over me, smiling the same smile he does on TV, when he moans as I take him into my mouth... Two weeks after I've first arrived on the bus I am lying in Ian's room trying to read, but it's absolutely no use. I don't think I've gone so long without jerking off since I was eight. I realize that I read a couple of sentence and that I have begun to squirm around on the bed. Laying on my front is even worse. My body needs release so bad that I begin humping the mattress without even meaning to. I hear Ian and Mickey X walk in, laughing. They're later than usual which means that he probably just finished the Seattle concert. "Where are you?" Ian calls out, and I know he means me. I manage to stand up by the harness is making my entire body ache. Everything itches for release, not just my dick. I don't know how I'm going to stand this any longer. Somehow I find myself standing in front of Ian who, beside Mickey, sit and survey me like he's a king. Or maybe some evil little prince. He's sweating but still fully dressed, so he definitely just finished the concert. He stands up so he's directly in front of me. "Strip me," he commands. Nothing new. I reach out and grab his undershirt, pulling it over his head. The smell... Oh my God... I practically sob. My dick is twitching, straining against this horrible device. His sweat is intoxicating. It takes everything in my power not to swoon and fall over I kneel down to begin unbuttoning his jeans. "I want you to fuck me..." I mutter to him as I stand up and push his jeans down. He smiles, he's heard me, but... "What was that? Speak up a little." I stand, he motions towards his underwear, which I pull down without thinking. His dick is already semi-hard and quickly growing. "I want you to fuck me," I say, loud enough that Mickey X can hear. He just smiles to himself. Ian puts on an indifferent voice, "That sounds more like a polite request. Doesn't really sound like you want it that much." "Please, Ian. Please. Fuck me. Please." "Still doesn't sound like you care that much, most of the time when people beg they're down on their knees," he smirks. I can't believe I am letting myself do this, but I fall to my knees and begin to caress him, "Please Ian! I will do anything for you! I can't take this any more! Please! I'll never disobey you ever again! I'll do absolutely anything forever! Just please, let me out of this!" Ian smiles malevolently. "Bedroom. Now." Once the doors closed he wastes no time. I'm actually surprised he even bothered to go into the bedroom and he doesn't take me right there in front of Mickey, and he probably senses I'm thinking as much. "The only people with dicks X believes in fucking are women," my curiosity somewhat piqued at this, I ignore it and focus on the keys in Ian's hand. "Get the lube from the bottom drawer," he points. I, like the spineless bitch I am, scramble to the drawer and pull out the lube. "You can apply it, then lay on your back." His dick is completely hard, despite the fact that he jerked off in my face last night and then got me to suck him off before he showered this morning. I apply a generous amount of lube. I may be insanely horny, but I realize he'll be plowing a fresh field, if you catch my drift. He intones that I've applied enough and then I lay on my front, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing myself. He reaches down and I feel him unlock the back strap. I wait but he makes no move to undo the front. I open my mouth to say something, beg, whatever, when he pushes into me. I cry out in pain. His dick's not gigantic, but I now know why everyone always says take it slow your first time. Ian did not take it slow and it feels like he's pulling me apart. I hear him grunt as his dick reaches the base into me, "Ohgodfuckyeah," he growls. And then pulls out and stabs back into me. I cry out again but this time there is an edge of pleasure. Even I can feel it. "Please, Ian. The front." He continues to pull in and out, he's going slow now, but he's fucked my face enough for me to know this is just him warming up. "Beg," he says. "Tell me you want me." "I want you," I cry out, loud enough for Mickey to hear me if he was on the other side of the country. "I want you to fuck me raw! I want you to cum inside me!" He is beginning to pound into me. With everything thrust words are just coming out of me. I've completely lost control. "I want you to violate me! I'll do anything for you Ian! I'm your slave! I'm your toy! I just want you to fuck me!" He is pulling my hips into him, pulling me up, giving him some leverage. He leans over and is panting into my ear. I moan. As he continues to fuck me his hands fumble around the front. It's like he's trying to jerk off my dick that is still strapped into the harness. No. He has the keys into his hand. He find the lock and with the key inside and a twist of his wrist the front pops open. I sob as my dick leaps out, finally able to swell to its full size. He grabs a hold of it and starts pumping me, and I am practically crying it feels so good. "Oh, fuck Ian! Fuck yes!" His thrusts are becoming more and more violent. He pushes my face into the pillows and he's now swearing and groaning. "Cum!" he commands, "I want you to cum!" And I do. As I feel him fill my insides my dick, with more than too weeks of pent up energy, releases. It would be an understatement to say that I have never cum so much in my entire life. The bedspread is veritably covered in thick, pearly white liquid as I continue to shoot rope upon rope. I can feel it leaking out of my front and my back. I always said I'd never let anyone fuck me, but if it can be like this every time I don't know why I waited so long. Ian has collapsed on top of me and I roll over, my stomach and pubes tangled and seeping into the mess, all of it roping together with the jizz covering the bed. Ian stays inside of me but I can feel his dick slowly shrinking. He wraps his arms around me, running his hands through the cum all over my body. After a moment he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks the liquid clean off of them. I hardly notice any of this, the flood of cum or Ian snuggled up to me or tasting my jizz. Five minutes after we've finished I am still spasming from pleasure.