What a Boy Must Do
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‘What a Boy Must Do’ is a series of seven short stories, of which this is the last. The connecting theme throughout has been one of a boy being faced with a simple choice: does he offer his body for the sexual gratification of a man, or does he die? Some have been stories of hope, even love. In others a darker theme has lurked below – no accident that the ship in Story Five was named The Avenger. In this final story that theme rises to the surface. ‘Revenge is a dish best savoured cold’; should it, you may wonder, be sampled at all?
Is This The Future?
The last in a series of seven stories by Ivor Sukwell.
Black is for the darkness of the soul
It was a problem. Not an insurmountable problem and certainly one that was not beyond his capacity to solve. Yes, he was only thirteen, his pubic hair barely starting to show and his orgasms had only stopped being dry ones a few weeks ago, but if he were a little slower in that area of development than the average Caucasian male native to this large, damp island off the western coast of mainland Europe, his mental development did not so lag behind the average. In fact, according to readily available statistics, in that respect he was in the top point one percentile of the entire population.
It was that fact that was the present problem. It should not have been a problem, of course, and in any normal society it would not be a problem. Naturally, he understood perfectly that there was no such thing as a ‘normal’ society. Every version of society, from cave man to the present day, considered itself to be ‘normal’.
Within any given society at any given time, there would, of course, be dissenters, but, by definition, a ‘dissenter’ was one who objected to the given norm, the norm being that which was accepted as such by the majority.
He was, obviously, such a dissenter. Whether or not that would have been the case had present and personal circumstances been other than they actually were, was a matter of hypothetical speculation, though empirical evidence would seem to indicate that, certainly at the present, he would not be such.
It was a matter of fact that, one week previously when the dictating circumstances were different, he had not been presented with his present problem and had not even considered material dissent.
He had been receiving an education suited to his genius status, and, to his knowledge, four very major industrial organisations had been closely monitoring his progress with the intention of vying for his services in their Research and Development branches the moment he obtained his PhD, something he would have expected to accomplish, certainly by the age of eighteen.
Such an education was, naturally, extremely expensive, and even more expensive would be his attendance at one of the four remaining Universities, with, of course, such attendance being a prerequisite of that PhD.
There had once been many more than four Universities, even as little as twenty years previous there had been ten times that number, but deteriorating economic circumstances had led to closure after closure, both because they were too expensive to maintain and also because fewer and fewer students could afford to attend. Reduced student numbers meant further reductions in income and, no longer economically viable, they closed.
That expensive education had come to an abrupt halt three days ago.
In addition to being blessed with a ridiculously high IQ, he had been blessed with ridiculously wealthy parents, and the expense of his education had not even amounted to an idle consideration for them.
Now it did.
The organisation from which his father drew his enormous salary was no more, gone the way of many others, into oblivion.
There were savings, naturally, but the vast majority had been held in what he understood were ‘offshore’ accounts in order to avoid taxation, and they could not be accessed. Well, they could be, his father had explained, but, as he had been a very senior Director in his organisation, the Government were holding him responsible for the collapse and intended to sequester all his funds. If he brought any of that money back it would be seized and he would be liable to taxes on it as well. Voluntary entry to a Workhouse was the future that awaited his father, his mother and himself as well.
Yes, the Workhouse. That noble institution of two centuries ago had been reintroduced as a means of coping with the ever increasing numbers of the destitute workless. It was, the politicians said, part of what had once made the country great, furnished it with an Empire. If it had been done once, it could be done again.
Two centuries ago, he knew from his researches, he would have avoided such a fate. A boy from his background, with his genius and his looks, would have attracted the attentions of a still wealthy patron, a patron who would have funded his studies and, naturally, made a significant profit on his expenditure at a later stage.
Such was no longer a possibility.
Faced with the need for a scapegoat for the deterioration of society, the media and then the Government had turned first to homosexuality and then, eagerly, to inter-generational sex.
‘Paedophile’, though naturally the word was incorrectly used, had become the modern version of ‘witch’.
It had started, in a small way, some fifty years ago, and then grown rapidly as the media found a public response to the new ‘witchcraft’. High profile court cases, featuring what became known as ‘historic offences’ fed the public appetite – and, incidentally, the pockets of many who made accusations of events that may, or may not, have happened many years before. Not long before increasing fundamentalism in the two newer Abrahamic religions led to the development of a new, and hysterical, Puritanism, and the ‘Sin of Sodom’ making a new and extreme appearance in the statute books.
Not that there was any real attempt to define a scholarly interpretation of what that sin actually was, for the media, the masses and therefore the government, it was at first, simply interpreted as anal intercourse and, to the joy and glee of the masses, punishable by death. Since the Lord had destroyed Sodom and all who it inhabited for their sin, it had to follow that the new Puritans would call for the destruction by man of any who followed that sinful path, and, because the hopeless masses needed entertainment, public executions were re-introduced.
The sin was biblical and so the punishment had also to be biblical – stoning.
Beaches were initially the favourite locations, for the crowds could combine a day’s holiday with the spectacle of a man being stoned to death. Volunteers were called for to do the deed, and never was there a shortage, the authorities transporting them, and as many spectators as could travel, to the killing sites.
Tied to a post, naked of course, because each and every person there wished to see the full effect of each stone as it hit, the victim died slowly to the jeers and cheers of the slavering crowds. Carefully aimed stones, all of an official size, nothing larger than a table-tennis ball and no sharp edges, were hurled from a distance of ten paces, naturally the genitals being a favourite target, it being forbidden to aim at the head for the first half an hour – no-one wanted an unlucky stone to effect a quick kill.
The crime was such an offence against the Lord, against religion, against all good, clean-living people, that guilt no longer had to be proved. Accusation and suspicion were sufficient; if the accused could not prove innocence, death was always the sentence.
A teacher encouraging a pupil with an arm around the shoulder was obviously a paedophile, and soon no man dared even lend a helping hand to a drowning person if such were below the new age of consent, set now at twenty four.
Even smiles and words of encouragement were suspect – ‘grooming’ the preachers called it, and soon schools closed because no-one could be found who was stupid enough to risk their life by teaching in them. Education took place in the home – for those who could afford the expensive equipment; the ordinary computer was no use as all programmes were encoded and specialist receivers needed, and those not purchased but rented from the Government’s Education Agency, and each programme paid for individually.
No man now would sponsor a boy genius – to do so was to guarantee soon being tied naked to a post on a windy beach. No company or organisation neither, for some individual would need to make a final decision, and the post and hurled stones would await him as well. Anal intercourse had proved to be a far too limiting a definition of sodomy!
This, then, was his problem; how to continue his education, obtain his PhD and earn sufficient money to liberate his parents from the Workhouse.
It could not be done here, in what was now known as the United in the Lord Kingdom, nor in the once super powerful dis-United States of America. The new economic powerhouses of India and China, with their teeming millions, had boy geniuses enough of their own; and that left Europe, a continent a mere twenty miles of sea away, but a continent long since declared the land of Satan by the puritan elite who ruled the ULK Independence Party, the only legal political party in the land.
He had done his research of course, and though the internet from Europe was scrambled by the ULK it was nothing he could not crack in moments and he found that what was normal in the ULK was certainly not the norm in the supposedly evil lands to the east. Education was free! Schools and Universities thrived! But he needed more than that, he needed somewhere to live, to survive, and he needed more than just basic education, he needed something suitable for a boy genius.
His research wandered from time to time – he was, boy genius or not, still a boy, and biological curiosity infringed on other needs from time to time, and one site he stumbled upon attracted his attention more than any other.
Of course, the site was officially blocked, but that was not a problem, he’d long ago cracked the relatively simple blocking codes and replaced them with his own that made it appear that he had viewed instead something officially approved – a podcast of a stoning was his choice; no spying device would regard that as being unsuitable or subversive viewing.
What he’d found was an hotel, an hotel on a fairly remote beach in southern Spain. That it was a very expensive hotel was beyond doubt, and, equally beyond doubt, was that it was an hotel that catered specifically for homosexuals, and made no secret of the fact that it shared its very private beach with another establishment – a home for orphaned boys.
Naturally his mind did the officially impregnated formula, a formula that was daily hammered into all minds subliminally: man + boy = sodomy.
Precisely what the sin of Sodom was he had to discover for himself. That it was something that had specific relevance to men and boys was self-evident, and that being found guilty of it resulted in public stoning was obvious, but what it actually was he had no idea. All he knew was that it was ‘depraved, disgusting, deviant and against the Law of the Lord’ and was the cause of all the evils that had befallen the once great United in the Lord Kingdom.
He was far too sensible to enquire of his father; not that his father would report him of course, but it was common knowledge that everyone was under surveillance, though, naturally this was officially denied – ‘only the basic, necessary steps for the security of the nation and the people’ were admitted to, but those basic steps could easily result in his father being tied to a post if he so much as even listened to a question about the nature of sodomy.
Which left him with the internet and that he researched diligently while his computer registered scene after scene of men’s genitals being crushed by stones, hurled by gleeful volunteers to the cheers of crowds.
His adolescent jaw dropped in amazement and he stared at the computer screen for all of ten seconds before his brain functioned again, fuelled by no small degree of panic. It was rare for a boy to be stoned, but this would get him tied to a stake without even the mere formality of a ‘trial’! Not a stake on some remote beach either, his would be in one of the big stadia that had once been used for events like football or some such now abandoned sports.
Every town and city had one, and faced with increasing popular demand for the spectacle of stoning, the government had restored many of the bigger ones and used them now for executions – sixty or seventy thousand people could cram in and watch, all with a good view, especially as huge screens were placed all around so replays and slow motions could be viewed in close up. Instead of random executions as and when necessary, the condemned were now imprisoned until there were twenty or so awaiting their fate, and an entire afternoon of entertainment could be put on for the blood-hungry public.
Hurriedly, but with exquisite care, he erased his computer’s memory with a program he had devised himself, it would, he knew, leave not a trace behind. He was not foolish enough to erase everything, only the entries that would condemn him, to remove all would be too suspicious and could just as easily lead to the stake as leaving all there.
The memory safe, he logged in to one of the Government’s free ‘educational’ sites, a site that was aimed specifically at boys between the ages of ten and fourteen and intended to show them the fruits of sodomy. It was a big stadium execution, somewhere in the north of the country, where a once-famous star of a popular television programme was being stoned. Justifiably so, for he had committed a heinous crime. He had publically signed his autograph for a group of adoring teenagers of both sexes, blatantly put a hand on the shoulders of several, even held the hands of three boys while he signed his name. One had complained to the Morality Police that the actor had suggested that he would like to do something contrary to the Law of the Lord with him and others soon followed, swearing that he had suggested sodomy as he signed his name.
The boys were, as is only right in such cases, rewarded for their bravery in denouncing the actor and compensated for the stress and trauma they had suffered, a big part of their reward being that they, along with chosen friends, should hurl the stones at the execution.
The event was televised nationally, repeated several times, and was now the main element in the Government’s Youth Education Programme, with slow motion replays of every stone landing and close ups of the faces of the boys who threw them, all clearly rejoicing in being able to serve Justice and the Lord.
It ran for an hour, ample time for him to return to the site he had found and to look again at the place in Spain.
He wasn’t sure which of the things he saw on that site was the actual sin of sodomy, perhaps they all were. They all involved men and boys, although sometimes it was just boys but they were doing the same things, and they all involved those bits of the body that he had been taught, or indoctrinated, the Lord has put there for the sole and specific purpose of the removal of waste from inside the body, the bits that he, and everybody else, pissed and shit with.
The front bit, the ‘penis’, though he knew there were other words for it, was designed for pissing with, but he had long worked out that it must have another function as well. There were times when it was not soft, but hard like a bone and when it was like that – which it was quite a lot now – no matter how badly he needed to piss it was not at all easy to do so. And, when it was like that, he’d found that it felt extremely pleasant to play with it and rub it and when he did that then stuff did come out of it, spurt out of it and left him with strange feelings.
He’d learned that all by himself, of course, and discovered the proper word for what he did was ‘masturbation’, though, once again, there were other words as well. Masturbation was the Sin of Self-Pleasure, and was not supposed to be done, but he’d never heard of a stoning for it, and like any other normal, healthy, thirteen year old boy, he followed stonings with avid, and frequently aroused, interest.
He discovered scenes where a man was doing the masturbation thing for a boy, and that obviously could not be the Sin of Self-Pleasure, unless it was pleasure for the man to do it for the boy as well as a pleasure for the boy, but then the boy would not be pleasuring himself and that, even for a boy genius, was confusing. He’d never heard any preacher, live or televised, ranting against a Sin of Mutual Pleasure, so perhaps that was sodomy.
But what, then, was the very obviously great sin when a man took a boy’s penis into his mouth? Or, indeed, when it was the other way round and a boy did that thing for a man?
Additional research was needed. The prick – he’d heard the penis called that by other boys, though there were few occasions when boys gathered together apart from in church or at a stoning, but he had heard boys, lower class boys naturally, calling for stone throwers to try to ‘land one on his prick’ or sometimes they called it ‘cock’, howling with delight if a throw was successful. Even greater howls of delight if a stone missed that target and slammed instead into testicles, causing the boys to whoop with glee and shouts of ‘Right in the balls’ echoed around. The prick was used for pissing and he’d never felt the slightest desire to taste piss, so why did men and boys so obviously enjoy sucking pricks?
He found that his own prick became very hard whilst he was doing this essential research and he was obliged to play with it, not sufficiently so as to cause it to squirt, as something in his mind told him to save that for later.
Sucking cock – proper name ‘fellatio’ – was, so his researches informed him, extremely pleasurable for both sucker and suckee and was variously referred to as a ‘blow job’ (although blowing as such did not seem to be involved), ‘sucking’ or ‘gobbling’ and, if he could believe the looks of pleasure on the faces of the men and boys involved in the images and video clips he found, it was indeed, extremely pleasurable.
Pleasurable or not, it had a proper name, ‘fellatio’, and so it could not be ‘sodomy’, though his instincts told him that any discovered performing fellatio would most certainly be stoned for their sin.
When he finally discovered sodomy he stared, open-mouthed at his computer screen. How could it possibly be a pleasure to push prick into an anus? Or, even, more unlikely, pleasing to have a prick pushed into one’s own anus? That, clearly, was a major sin, surely rightly condemned as ‘unnatural and contrary to the teachings of the Lord’.
But, if that was so, why was his own prick now so hard just from looking at images of a disgusting and perverted act? And why, once again, did the men and boys doing this disgusting thing show such clear evidence of enjoyment? He was forced to abandon thinking for a few minutes as the demand from his prick was such that he was obliged to mastur....., no, not this time, this time he ‘wanked’ – a far better term, he thought, considering the circumstances.
It was an intellectual dilemma of major proportions, and, having cleaned up both himself and his computer, he set about attempting to solve the problem.
Wanking, he dismissed the fancy name now, was definitely pleasurable. He’d enjoyed it well enough when it was ‘masturbation’, but now it was ‘wanking’ it was even more enjoyable. Why that should be so he would consider in greater detail at a later point, for now he had to deal with sucking and sodomy itself.
Experimentally he tried a finger in his mouth, but found that gave no sensations of pleasure at all, either to the mouth or the finger. On the other hand – he smiled at his own pun – wanking was pleasurable to both prick and hand, so, logically, the pleasure had to emanate from the prick. If that were indeed so it would follow that sucking would deliver pleasure to mouth as well as prick and that, therefore, it would be equally enjoyable to both suck a prick and have one’s own prick sucked. He attempted to imagine such feelings and event, but because of his upbringing under the strict regimens of the United in the Lord Kingdom, he had no suitable sex object to imagine, indeed he had no idea that there were such things as sex objects. The attempt was, naturally, a complete failure.
He tried bending down, he tried lifting his legs up and resting his knees on his shoulders, but, however hard he tried he couldn’t quite manage to get his prick in his mouth, though he could just about poke his tongue out far enough to be able to flick the end of his foreskin with it and that did feel quite amazing.
Naturally he was far too intelligent to make the mistake of thinking that one instance was enough to form a general rule, but certainly early indications were that having his cock in someone’s mouth might be very enjoyable indeed. Further, following his observations regarding the sensual relationship between prick and hand, it was definitely within the realm of possibility that a similar relationship might exist between cock and mouth. He liked the feel of his own cock in his hand, so it therefore followed that he may similarly like the feel of another’s cock in his hand, and the same could well be true for his mouth.
All this, however, left the matter of sodomy, and, in true boy genius scientific exploration, he gently fingered his anus and was truly shocked by the results! This experiment he did not carry to its logical conclusion, making no more than extremely tentative attempts to insert his finger, a task he found impossible, probably owing to his complete ignorance of the desirability of introducing a lubricating agent.
Incomplete as they had been, his investigations and experiments had left him curious as to why the sin of sodomy was considered so great. It was, so far as he was able to determine, a sin for which the punishment seemed a little extreme. Of course, like any other healthy, normal teenage boy, he enjoyed a good stoning as well as any other did, adults obviously included. He’d been to a few live events and watched avidly on television now they were prime time viewing, enthusing with his father if a well-aimed and firmly thrown stone crushed a testicle or smashed a nipple, but now he found he had to question the reasoning behind this punishment.
The sin of Sodom, he knew, was a thing practised by the followers of Satan or Shaytan – he wasn’t sure if they were two different devils or the same one with two different names. He knew that because the preachers in the church he had to attend made that very clear, as did the government’s educational broadcasts on youth television; and the reason why sodomites had to be exterminated was simply because they tempted youth into that sin and, once sodomised, a boy was inevitably bound to Satan, or Shaytan and became a sodomite himself.
His finger and anus experiments had been far from unpleasant and he could well believe that if the act was carried to its logical conclusion – as he had seen on those blocked and banned internet sites – a boy could well wish for it to happen again, judging by the looks of delight on the faces he had seen. So perhaps that was true, and that, once sodomised, a boy would want to enact the same sin time and time again, and, it would seem from his internet research, that was what did happen in the Satanic Union, as the lands across the sea to the east of the ULK were now known.
If that was the case, then it would follow that there, in the Satanic Union, he would be able to find a man, or a company, to sponsor his education, because there men were not stoned for befriending and helping a boy in need. Naturally, that would inevitably result in him being sodomised, but that, he felt, would be a very small price to pay.
The only problem was how to get there. No travel links now existed between the ULK and the Satanic Union, but the church did provide one possibility. Preachers were always exhorting the youth of the ULK to strap bombs to themselves and be smuggled into the Satanic Union, there to blow up themselves and as many followers of Satan as they could, be they sodomites or some other perverted followers of the two-named devil. His course of action was obvious.
He struggled ashore through the waves along with three other youths; he was by far the youngest and the only one with no facial hair though the bomb strapped to him was the same size as the ones strapped to the others. Large and heavy, it was like a padded jacket, but with each pad stuffed full of high explosive.
Of course, they could not wander around the Satanic Union obviously wearing bombs, so they had another jacket over the top, which, soaked as it now was, made everything heavier and even more difficult for them to struggle through the waves. It was also high summer, so once things had dried out they would be conspicuously over-dressed, a factor the preachers appeared to have over-looked.
Find somewhere with a lot of people, pull the trigger cord and become a martyr and blow as many Satan or Shaytan worshipers to little bits as was possible. Of course, he had no intention of doing any such thing; his plan was to surrender at the first possible opportunity and to ask for asylum in that home for orphan boys he’d discovered on the internet.
On the beach at last, the other three youths yelled that their god was good and then he felt a sharp sting on his neck and woke later in a small room with men in uniform waiting to ask him some questions. He wasn’t wearing his bomb anymore, in fact he wasn’t wearing anything except what he realised was a hospital gown, which was a relief because he had secretly feared that the bomb would explode without him wanting it to.
“Where was your target?” one of the men in uniform asked him in surprisingly good English.
It took a long time to make those men understand that he never intended to explode his bomb, that he was a boy genius who wanted to go to that place in Spain and find a man who would support him while he went to university and obtained his PhD.
“I intended to take off the bomb as soon as I was away from the other three,” he explained, “And then surrender myself to the police or something.”
How come, they asked him, if he was such a genius, he didn’t realise that the bomb would have exploded the moment he tried to take it off? That was why he was now wearing only a hospital gown – his clothing had been surgically removed so the bomb would not be disturbed.
His shock must have been obvious because they laughed at him and, as he stuttered his way through an explanation of how he had come to have a bomb strapped to him, he realised how naive he had been. Of course the preachers, the ones with long beards as well as the white, shaven ones, hadn’t cared at all why he was offering himself for martyrdom, all they wanted to do was to blow up a few Satan/Shaytan worshippers and him along with them, and if he changed his mind along the way, well, it would still be ‘BOOM’ time anyway.
Well, there wasn’t going to be any ‘BOOM’ now, not for him anyway, and once he’d solved a few puzzles, taken an IQ test and raised quite a few eyebrows, his story was accepted.
“I know that if I do find a rich man to support me,” he told them for at least the tenth time, “He will want to do the sin of Sodom with me, but that’s alright because he won’t get stoned for it here, will he.”
“And how do you feel about the prospect of being fucked?” a psychologist asked him.
He wasn’t really sure what ‘fucked’ was, so the psychologist patiently explained it for him.
“Oh,” he said, “The sin of Sodom? I don’t think I’ll mind. I know it’s what men do with boys here, and, from what I’ve seen on the internet, the boys seem to enjoy it. Back home, the men get stoned for it, though. I don’t know if that is right or not, but I quite enjoy watching stonings.”
That comment led to a few more tests before they decided that they would pass him on to that place in Spain. It seemed it was quite well-known and a lot of very rich and very important men used the hotel, and contact had been made with the owner who, after seeing several images of him – for some reason all the pictures were taken of him naked – agreed to at least interview him for a place in the orphanage. They were, in fact, quite glad to be rid of him, his obvious if somewhat naive willingness to indulge in sexual activities with an older man in order to achieve his aim of a university education was a problem they did not wish to have to deal with, but as the age of consent was thirteen in the country he wished to go to, there would be no legal barrier for him to avoid.
The owner of the hotel and the orphanage was an old man, very old, ninety three years old, and though long past the practical appreciation of teenage boys, he still found them a visual delight.
The boy who now faced him, dressed in the jeans and shirt provided for him by the authorities before they had shipped him south, reminded him of long ago days when he had been the same age, and of how different things had been eighty long years ago. He had been a naive innocent who had willingly given his body to a wealthy American in return for food and shelter. No danger then of his benefactor being arrested and publically stoned for the amusement of the masses. A hotel doorman had set it all up and the authorities had turned a very blind eye to the very obvious relationship that developed, ignoring his departure for the United States where that relationship was also officially ignored. First the man’s lover, then, when too old at eighteen for that role, he became companion and partner and finally heir, retiring to a land where a boy was legally able to become a man’s lover at the age of thirteen and establishing his hotel for rich men to find a young lover from among the orphans he fostered.
This fair-haired, slender, leggy boy would soon find what he wanted, and a wealthy business man or politician would find what he wanted as well. And that was as it should be, for some men and some boys were destined to be together.
The boy was innocent, stunningly so, but that could be put down to his upbringing in the strange, godless land that the country of both their births had become. Such utter innocence may appeal to some, but he knew from long years of experience that his hotel guests would want at least some basic understandings of the facts of life – his guests were there because they wanted a boy for their beds, not because they wanted to spend their entire time trying to explain what a cock was for.
For that problem there was a simple solution – the orphanage was designed to accommodate thirty boys and he had only twenty nine now, one boy having moved in with a German steel magnate who intended to keep him, not return him when his stay at the hotel ended. That meant that one of the fifteen double beds where the boys slept had only one occupant and a little moving around would allow him to place this new boy with Vlad, a lad of sixteen who knew all that there was for boys to know when it came to dealing with the needs of men, and, indeed, the needs of other boys as well. Vlad would do for this boy what Billy had done for him so many, many years ago; more indeed, much more, for Vlad knew things that Billy had not even dreamed of.
He didn’t know what to make of the older boy with a strange name who came from the eastern part of the Satanic Union, also with a strange name. The boy wore nothing more than a skirt so brief it hardly covered his penis, but who seemed totally unconcerned that frequent glimpses of that bit of his body could be had by any who looked. He had a nice smile, though, and seemed friendly, although he seemed to look at him in a strange way; almost he thought, though the idea was obviously ridiculous, as though he was wondering what he would look like if he too had so little on.
It was a ridiculous idea because any boy dressed, if that was the right word, like that and looking at another boy in that way would lead to arrest and a sentence to be stoned. A boy of Vlad’s age would be executed in the National Arena, a rare and very special event, with huge prices charged for a seat and the televised version would be pay to view only. There must, he thought, be some other explanation.
“Get rid of those clothes and let me have a look at you,” the boy ordered. He knew it was an order, though it was said quite nicely. Why, he wondered, should it be necessary for the boy to look at him with no clothes on? Was that normal in the Satanic Union?
He wasn’t sure if he should be defiant or just embarrassed, because, apart from the taking of those pictures, no-one had seen him unclothed, fully or partially, for years now. There was, he decided, no point in being defiant, and if anyone would be arrested and stoned it would not be him because he was only obeying an order, so, reluctantly, he shed his clothing and stood, allowing the boy with the strange name to look.
Surprisingly he was not frightened; surprising because the only live people he had seen naked were ones tied to a post for stoning, but he knew that was not the fate that awaited him, so he just stood, wondering why the boy wanted him naked.
“Nice flesh,” Vlad remarked with a smile, “You will please men, no doubt of that.”
Then his education began. A ‘penis’ was, it was confirmed to him, a ‘cock’, a ‘prick’, or sometimes, a ‘dick’. Testicles were ‘balls’, the place where shit came from was his ‘hole’, or his ‘pussy’ or his ‘cunt’; masturbation was definitely ‘wanking’, although some guests from America – wherever that was – called it ‘jerking off’. The stuff that squirted out when he did that was known as ‘spunk’ or ‘cum’, although people from that America place called it ‘jism’ or something like that. Taking a cock in the mouth was confirmed as ‘sucking’ or ‘gobbling’ or a ‘blow job’ and having a cock in one’s hole or cunt was ‘being fucked’.
Armed with that information, he was deemed ready for practical demonstrations and his world changed.
The Sin of Self-Pleasure, which he now called ‘wanking’, was discouraged; “If you feel the need to spunk,” he was told, there are twenty nine boys here all happy to make you cum, so why do it for yourself?” The Sin of Onan was given a different interpretation; “Spunk,” Vlad explained, “Should never be wasted. Cum in a mouth or up a hole, though some boys do like it to spurt on their faces or chests, and that is fine, especially if there is another boy around to lick it all up.”
Holding his own cock he had already discovered was something that felt good – holding another boy’s was so many, many times better and having his felt by Vlad was almost beyond dreams. Even more beyond dreams was when Vlad took him into his mouth but he spurted so quickly he hardly had time to enjoy it! And when he did that for Vlad he was amazed at how wonderful it was to have a cock in his mouth; he was nervous about how he would react when Vlad spunked, but was quite delighted to find that not only did it not make him feel sick, he actually liked it and looked forward to it happening again.
Those sins the preachers had never ranted about, so he didn’t know if they had special names, but he guessed they would have been classed as sodomy and be punishable by stoning.
Sodomy itself was utterly wonderful. Vlad prepared him carefully, poking a tongue up inside him, and then fingers, all of which had him squirming and gasping with delight and when Vlad’s cock entered him at last he was beyond anything but moaning and begging for more.
More he got. Vlad kept him for himself for a few days and then passed him round for other boys to sample and enjoy before declaring that he was now ready for men.
He enjoyed his training, for that is what it was and he harboured no doubts about that. Vlad had told him that once he’d had cock inside him there was no going back. The preachers in the ULK were right about that – once a boy had been initiated into the Sin of Sodom he would follow that sin for the rest of his life. That raised the question as to why such boys were never prosecuted, found guilty and stoned and it was the ancient man who owned the hotel and orphanage who answered that for him.
“It is because,” the old man told him with a sigh, “Those boys are used by the ULK authorities to entrap men. Few indeed, are the men who can resist the advances of a boy and thus a regular supply of victims is ensured.”
“I do. Our country, though I no longer think of it as mine, keeps its unfortunate citizens quiet by providing them with frequent spectacles of men being stoned to death. The Romans used similar spectacles to amuse their citizens – did your history education include that information?”
He nodded that it had; Roman circuses were covered in great detail by the official education syllabus. Gladiatorial combat and executions were considered ideal educational material for the under-twelve age bracket.
“But when those boys are older......” he started to ask.
“Then another boy will accuse them of sodomy,” the old man smiled sadly, “And they, too will go to the stake. Unless they offer to become martyrs instead, of course, and try to blow up innocent people in the European Union, or the Satanic Union as it is called in the ULK.”
“What of the men here, the ones in the hotel?” he asked.
“Have no fears for them, here men are not stoned for enjoying the pleasure that is a boy.”
He went in the morning to the beach with the other boys, and he went naked. Many of the boys wore just enough to cover their prized and valuable possessions, not from modesty but so that men would be eager to reveal the hidden parts and spend money on them, because many of the boys were intent on becoming wealthy even if they did not find a man who wanted to take them away.
He was naked because he reasoned that he was here to find a man to support him for years, and not for a succession of men who wanted him for one or two nights, so he should be honest and make it obvious to all what he had to offer in exchange for that support. That he was enticing men into the Sin of Sodomy did not concern him, these men were already committed to that sin and he was willing enough to give himself to any follower of Satan or Shaytan who was prepared to give him his wish.
He didn’t find a suitable man at once, but he followed Vlad’s advice and went with any who interested him and some who did not interest him at all but who paid him well. He had come to enjoy the Sin of Sodom, sighing with pleasure when a man slid inside him; he liked boys better for all the other sins, but sodomy was best with a man. Men, Vlad had told him, know how to fuck a boy properly, fuck him so he knows he’s been fucked.
“Now you are a tasty bit of flesh,” a man’s voice said from behind and above him. He was lying on the beach making sure his tan was even all over, because he knew that the men liked that and he’d learned quickly that it was always best to give the men what they wanted. “Young as well,” the voice continued, “That’s good. I like them young.”
“Thirteen,” he said without turning to look at the man, “Is that young enough?”
“Perfect,” the man sighed and sat on the sand beside him, putting a hand on his slender, smooth thigh and stroking it from groin to knee.
He did not object to that, although, usually, men made some polite conversation before feeling a boy, but he had come to appreciate and enjoy the feelings a man gave him when he was stroked. Even when the man’s hand went from his thigh to his cock and made it hard, he did not object, because men liked to do that with boys and, he knew now, boys liked men doing that for them.
“So, you gorgeous little piece of fuck flesh, what are you doing here in this place of sin?” the man asked him.
“To find a man who will pay for my education,” he said; if the man was blunt with him, calling him ‘fuck flesh’, he saw no reason to be other than blunt himself.
“Why come here for that? Why not find a man in the country of your birth?”
“Because no man would help me so,” he answered, “For fear of being stoned.”
“Ah, yes,” the man licked his lips and squeezed his cock, “Stonings. Tell me, did you ever see one?”
“Oh, yes,” he said, flexing his cock in the man’s hand, “My father took me to several, and I watched them on television as well.”
“So you enjoyed them?” the man moved his hand to boy balls and jiggled them nicely.
“Yes,” he admitted freely, “I always got hard watching them and often, if I was looking at them in my room alone I wanked and spunked.”
“Good boy,” the man smiled and put his head down into his lap and licked all around where his pubes had started to grow before the laser treatment had removed them for good. “What did you like best?”
“Balls being crushed, nipples smashed,” he said, though it was partly a gasp and a sigh because the man’s tongue around his smooth pubis felt particularly good; “It was best when the stones were being thrown by boys, though. I always had to wank watching that. I still called it the Sin of Self-Pleasure then, though.”
“You liked that then,” the man grinned at his cock and then tickled the tip of it with his tongue.
“Oh, yes,” he enthused, “So did my father. He said they ought to have just boys doing the throwing.”
“Not a bad idea,” the man mused before sucking him for a while.
“I’d have the boys just wearing very short skirts, like some of the boys here do, so their cocks show sometimes.” He jerked his cock in the man’s mouth, excited by what he was imagining.
“That would certainly encourage more men into the Sin of Sodomy,” the man agreed when his mouth was free to speak.
“And,” he said, his erotic imagination running away with him, “It would be really good if a boy got stoned sometimes.”
“You think so?” the man looked up from his sucking and licking.
“Oh, yes! I’d love to have watched one of those! Would you like to suck me all the way, now please? I really want to spunk now!”
Boy genius as he was and now fully conversant with all the things men and boys can do together, he was still only thirteen and retained all the naivety of that age; he had been brought up to watch and enjoy stonings and saw no reason not to talk about them with a man who seemed interested and was very good indeed at sucking his cock.
“I’ll suck you more if we can talk more about that stuff after,” the man offered and he cheerfully agreed – his first spunking of the day was not going to diminish his erotic imagination one little bit!
“You think the public would enjoy watching a boy get stoned, then?” the man asked him after spunk had been skilfully sucked out, relished and swallowed.
“Definitely,” he asserted, his young teen cock hardening again rapidly as he imagined the scene. “Not too young though, they wouldn’t want to see a boy my age being stoned. Well, perhaps they would, but I think that would be a really special market. Very expensive, but a waste of a boy,” he added with a grin that hinted he had no desire to be wasted at the moment, he was ready for more, a lot more. The man was only middle-aged and quite good looking and he was more than happy to be fucked by him.
“We certainly wouldn’t want to waste a boy like you,” the man agreed and let his hands go wandering again. “How old, then?” he asked.
“Vlad’s age, perhaps; sixteen or so. Of course, it’d be best if they were smooth like the boys here, cos that’s really sexy.” In his imagination scenes of naked boys, adolescent but smooth, flashed by one after the other, boys tied to a stoning post with thousands of eager spectators and film cameras at several different locations.
“What about a man who is smooth?”
“I was thinking of something else.” Hands were stroking him all over now and he was once again young teen hard.
“Not been had by a man who was smooth yet,” he confessed, “ But I think it would be fun to be fucked by one. I’ve been fucked by Vlad and the older boys, of course, and that’s been good, feeling their smooth skin pounding against my arse, so being done by a man like that should be great.”
“You enjoy the Sin of Sodomy, it seems,” the man observed, his voice both soft and thick.
“I love it,” he beamed happily, “And here it is not a sin at all.”
“The pleasure of being in the Satanic Union,” the man agreed and said nothing more for several minutes because his mouth was busy, licking and sometimes full of young teen balls, and when not so engaged, was licking, kissing and nibbling at smooth young teen thighs.
“Does what you are doing now have a name as a sin?” he asked, always eager for knowledge.
“Not as such,” the man smiled up at him, pausing in his oral admiration of his young flesh, “Though you can be sure the preachers in the ULK would deem it enough for stoning.”
“How did you escape from there?” he asked the man; it was obvious from the way he spoke his English that he must have come from that place.
“I haven’t escaped; I’m just on a holiday to enjoy a boy or two.”
“But how? No-one is allowed to leave. I had to have a bomb strapped to me in order to escape.”
The man laughed and told him that, if one was rich enough and important enough, rules did not apply.
“My father was rich once,” he said, a hint of tears in his throat, and, encouraged, he told his story.
“So,” the man said, pausing in his licking, kissing and sucking, an activity that had been kept up all the while he was telling his story, “You escaped to the Satanic Union so you could entice a man into keeping you, entice him by offering yourself for sodomy.”
“I suppose so,” he agreed, just a little thoughtfully, and decided to play along his young boy naivity – he’d rapidly learned that the men at the hotel gave him more money if they believed he was still, if not sexually innocent, at least naive about what he was doing. “But I think it was more that if sodomy was what I had to do, then I was willing to do it,” he managed a shy smile, something else he’d found worked well, “ At first I wondered why a man should want to put his penis in a boy’s anus and I thought it must hurt a lot; but the boys all seemed to be enjoying it so I tried with my finger. I couldn’t get it in but it did feel nice just poking at it. Now,” he said with a smile, “I really like being fucked.”
“So how did you come to know that men like to fuck boys? Not something you could have easily learned in the ULK; even the very word ‘fuck’ does not get used.”
“That was easy,” he giggled, “I saw it on the internet.”
“All internet content of that nature is blocked by high security government scrambling,” the man dismissed his statement, “So that is just not true.”
He laughed out loud this time.
“The codes they use to block things are so simple,” he snorted, “I hacked into systems in minutes. And I wrote a little program that made it seem as though I was watching a stoning podcast. So simple.”
“Did you indeed.”
“I told you, all my IQ scores show that I’m a genius,” he grinned happily, “Computer stuff is so easy.”
“I have the best computer geeks in the ULK working on that coding,” the man sounded irritated, “No way could you crack that.”
“If they’re the best, goodness knows what others are like,” he snorted, “I watched blocked stuff for ages.” An idea was beginning to form in his mind, and when he had an idea he always followed it through. He’d run away, or escaped was probably a better description of what he’d done, to the Satanic Union in order to find a man who would look after him and finance his education. Now he knew he did not actually need a man for that – education was freely available, and the men in the hotel paid large sums of money for the enjoyment of his body and, as he’d rapidly discovered he liked being fondled and fucked, earning that money was no hardship at all.
Vlad had taught him well; “Milk them for their money as they milk you for your spunk,” he said, perhaps a little cynically. “Stick with one guy if you happen to fall in love, but till then, make money.”
Well, there was no way he was going to fall in love with the man who was fondling his body now, but the possibilities of a lucrative commercial partnership were opening up and those possibilities needed exploring.
“No way you could crack that coding,” the man was saying again, “Just no way.”
“I suppose you have a computer in your room,” he said, just enough emphasis on the ‘your room’ to imply that he was willing to do more than just look at a computer.
“Then I’ll show you,” he fluttered his eyelashes, “And when I’ve showed you I’ll let you fuck me if you make it worth my while.”
“And if you can’t then I get to fuck you for free,” the man came back at once, the prospect of shagging a thirteen year old boy without paying the going hotel rate appealing to him.
He could almost see the man’s mind working, the prospect of a free fuck clouding reasoned judgement.
“Deal,” he smiled happily and followed the man to the hotel.
In three months he’d learned a lot and matured a lot as well. Naturally, some of that had to do with the fact he was now nearer fourteen than twelve, and quite a lot had to do with the number of times he’d taken cock inside him and his contact with the men who fucked him. This particular man could be exactly what he was now looking for.
It took only minutes for him to hack into the computer system in the ULK’s Ministry of Justice, the most secure system in the country the man had said. It took only minutes more before he’d found the personal computer of the Minister and left a few images that, if found, would have the Minister tied to a stake in no time at all.
“He won’t be able to erase them,” he smiled cheekily at the man. “He’ll delete them, but they won’t ever go away from his hard drive. Only you, me and him will know that they’re there.”
“Fuck me!” the man breathed, taking in the enormity of the action and the power it gave him.
“No,” he smiled again, and fluttered his eyelashes – something he’d rapidly realised the man found arousing – “You can fuck me if you want and pay me enough. I only like fucking boys.”
He got what he wanted before he allowed the man inside him; another computer or two hacked into, his parents’ commitment to the Workhouse revoked as ‘a regrettable error’, and a very considerable sum put into his father’s restored bank account in compensation. Why, he wondered, had he not thought of doing that before? Perhaps it was the ease of getting into supposedly secure systems in order to impress the man that brought the idea into his mind.
“The deal is,” he told the undressing man, “Is that I become a partner in your business, make you lots and lots of money by increasing the appeal of the entertainments you stage, and do a few tweaks to the security systems so computers can spy properly on their users. A few subliminal images and messages and you’ll find boys by the hundred who’ll be desperate for your cock. And some for me as well,” he added with another eyelash flutter.
“No way I can fuck boys in the ULK,” the man snorted derisively.
“Trust me,” he smiled as he lay on the bed and parted his legs invitingly, “I can do wonders.”
And getting a man to do anything he wanted just by opening his legs was the easiest thing of all, he thought as the man slid hard cock inside his self-prepared hole. He clenched just enough to allow the man to think he was actually forcing himself inside, violating him; some men, he’d learned, liked to feel that, to believe they were dominating. Men like that fucked hard and carelessly, forcing themselves in deep and rarely lasting for long.
Such men were true sodomites and were destined for the stoning post. In the brave new world he would create there would still be a stoning post – there was too much money to be made from stoning to do away with such a popular entertainment.
He no longer needed that University education, a PhD was quite superfluous now. He was a boy genius and he understood now the full extent of the power that his cock, his mouth and his arse had given him. He had a few more years of being a boy and he would use those natural assets to their full advantage; and he would use his genius as well.
He would do all that a boy must do, gain wealth and power, and then his time would come.
He settled back in the comfortable white leather chair in his private box at the National Entertainment Stadium. The glass in front of him was a one-way design, he could see out but none of the spectators in the packed stadium could see in, see him or the boy who was kneeling between his legs, pleasuring his cock with young lips. Yes, this was the National Stadium in the ULK, and he had a young boy to service his needs, a boy he would later fuck.
Money is power – he had learned that lesson very quickly from a man who had fucked him when he was thirteen in the south of the Satanic Union, a man who had, until a few short weeks ago been head of the ULK’s Entertainment Agency and who was now to be one of the two star attractions at this, the first of the new style stonings that would enrapture the masses.
He had given the man ten years; ten years to enjoy all the boys he wanted, ten years to gradually develop his plans and schemes. For the last eight of those years all television broadcasts had contained subliminal images of boys being sucked and fucked; eight years to develop the desire in men for sodomy, eight years to encourage boys to offer themselves to adult cock.
Sodomy was still the Sin of Satan/Shytan of course, and no boy would yet speak to another about the pleasures that his cock could bring and give; but boys now committed the Sin of Self-Pleasure with abandon, encouraged by the hidden images in their official Youth Educational programmes, to do so while they watched; and all boys were spied upon by the webcams in their Government supplied computers, webcams that relayed the evidence of their sin to the Ministry of Faith. Those webcams had relayed images of boys who committed the Sin of Self Pleasure frequently and with obvious enjoyment to the Director of Education and Entertainment also, and from those boys the Director supplied himself with large numbers to sodomise in secret.
Once converted to the worship of Satan/Shaytan and enthusiastic for the Sin of Sodomy, those boys were exported to the Satanic Union, for, as the Director had said, a man with sufficient money and power may ignore the law. There, in lands where the income from tourists was vital to the economy, hotels were established where men could enjoy boys, and the already wealth owners of those hotels grew more wealthy and the boys became at least a little rich.
Now that Director had to depart. In the corridors of power one must always guard one’s back, for it is from there that the assassin’s knife will come. A Director who amasses wealth for himself and does not understand that his Deputy, whilst also growing wealthy, desires all and not some, is a man not fit to hold power. A boy has only to point his finger and pocket his reward and that Director is no more.
The Minister of Faith was a hard-lined, bearded fanatic who railed loud against this discovered outbreak of satanic behaviour in the youth of the ULK and demanded drastic punishment for all offenders, so that those not yet old enough to commit this vile sin would know that the wrath of the Lord would be visited upon them should they too, in a year or so, be tempted to stray down that primrose path.
The boy genius, no longer a boy but still a genius, had long since decided that vengeance should be wreaked on those who had made a pleasure into a sin, and that those who had lived by the stone should die by the stone.
The Minister was the second star attraction at the National Entertainment Stadium. He had protested his innocence even more loudly than he had railed against the sin of others, but the discovery of a fourteen year old boy, a naked and obviously recently sodomised fourteen year old boy, in his private residence was more than enough for him to be committed to the stake. Of course he claimed he knew nothing about the boy or how he got there, but the boy had pointed his finger and cried ‘sodomy’.
The boy had been an excellent and very willing fuck, selected for his role from the images his webcam had relayed – watching televised stoning replays with a carrot deep up his arse made him a fairly obvious choice. The boy had been more than a little worried when arrested and taken to the Deputy Director of the Rejoice in the Lord Entertainment Corporation, the organisation that staged stonings and produced television educational programmes, but had co-operated happily enough when the situation was explained to him. The Deputy Director would take what carrots had left of his virginity, he would be smuggled into the Minister’s residence, point the finger and be whisked away to a luxurious establishment in the east of the Satanic Union where his hungry arse would earn him lots of money.
It had worked very nicely, he thought as the young boy kneeling between his legs sucked dutifully, and he was no longer Deputy Director, having risen the final step when the incumbent found he no longer had the protection of the Minister of Justice, who had discovered that the young Deputy Director of The Rejoice in the Lord Entertainment Corporation knew all about those images that had stayed hidden for years and was an expert in blackmail.
Yes, it had worked out very nicely. In ten years he had made an enormous fortune and fucked a large number of boys. He owned several luxurious establishments in the Satanic Union, keeping their stock fresh by smuggling out boys from the ULK, boys whose understanding of the Sin of Sodomy he could personally vouch for. His educational programmes were achieving his objectives; his latest venture, subliminally encouraging boys of ten to make themselves available to their older brothers – teens who had been equally subliminally encouraged to appreciate the potential of their younger siblings – was, according to the research data, proving very successful. In a few years all teenage boys would be fucking like rabbits and his final endeavour – to replace the Sin of Sodomy with the Sin of Paedophobia – would be well underway.
There would still be stonings of course; the public enjoyed them far too much and they made too much money to risk stopping them, but the criminals would be changed. Woe betide the man who spoke out against sodomy with boys, the stake would await him.
Today’s entertainment would begin with a warm-up for the crowd, the first step in his ambitious plan. One hundred boys would be chained up, raised by their wrists till only their toes touched the ground, and caned. Their howls of pain would whip the packed crowd to a frenzy, a frenzy that would overcome the shock of seeing one hundred naked teenage boys enthusiastically caned by two hundred not yet teenage boys wearing only the tiniest of skirts.
The slow-motion replays on the big screens of the moments when those skirts lifted and failed to conceal pre-teen delights would create eighty thousand erections in the packed stadium.
The victims were boys whose webcams had revealed that they resisted the subliminal encouragement to masturbate, the pre-teens being boys whose webcams had shown their eager acceptance of their new duty as providers of pleasure for their older siblings. The Sin of Self Pleasure would take its first public step towards being replaced by the Sin of Self Abstinence.
The main event would feature the two erstwhile men of power chained to their stakes, their executioners boys of fourteen and fifteen who, from the evidence of their secret webcams, had been eager to sample the delights of their siblings and were now delighted to reveal their all as they stood, naked, in the great stadium ready to hurl their stones.
Each and every one would sprout an erection as they threw, many before they even started, and each and every erection would be shown in close-up on the big screens to the delight of the packed spectators.
A boy genius can, given the right stimulus, achieve remarkable things. He may start with a reluctant willingness to use his arse to ensure his survival in a potentially hostile environment, but later, when he has come to fully appreciate the infinite pleasure of having a man’s cock inside him and the environment is no longer hostile, he can turn his attention to becoming powerful and wealthy.
By then he is no longer a boy genius in need of protection and assistance, he is a fully-fledged genius with an insatiable appetite for boys and a political ambition. Soon the United in the Lord Kingdom would be no more, no more ULK, but, instead, a return to something more akin to its former initials of GB, though now it would be GBB, the land of great boy buggery.
In that new land, he thought as a not-yet-teen boy fondled his balls with pleasing skill, all spectators at a stoning would be able to purchase the services of such a boy and so enhance their enjoyment of the spectacle, and so enhance his wealth as well.
This was his revenge; a revenge for all those who had suffered at the stoning post because they liked boys.
With a sigh, he stretched out his legs as the whippings commenced, and the not-quite-adolescent between them began sucking in earnest. When the howls of the whipped non-wankers faded and the stoning began he would sit the boy on his lap and push his hard cock deep inside tight not-quite-adolescent arse.
Life, after all, is about the survival of the fittest, and the real survivor is the one who best uses his assets first to survive and then to rule.
That all power corrupts is something that can escape the mind of even a genius.