Date: Tue, 21 Mar 2017 09:53:03 -0400
From: CreepingDawn <CreepingDawn@protonmail.com>
Subject: Ant King Chapter 7

Warning: This story is unsuitable for minors and contains
explicit descriptions of sexual activity considered taboo (and
illegal) in most (if not all) jurisdictions. If such activity
offends you, please DO NOT read any further. I do not condone any
illegal activity and stress that this work is fiction, fantasy,
and in no way meant to reflect reality. Sexual abuse of minors is
a very serious issue and I encourage anyone tempted to engage in
such behavior to seek help immediately.

Title: Ant King
Last Updated: 3/21/17

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(CreepingDawn@protonmail.com) and I look forward to hearing from
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Without further ado...

Chapter Seven

Pete, my thirteen year old brother, was about to start eighth grade and the
latter half of the summer was filled with him strutting around the house
like the soon-to-be big-man-on-campus he thought he was. It was funny,
actually, and I teased him about it pretty regularly. Wiltmore Middle
School, where I had been big-man-on-campus years earlier, had a pretty
close-knit student body in part because there was slightly less than one
hundred kids split between the sixth, seventh, and eighth grades and in
part because the school was a very respectable private institution flushed
with well-to-do families. Cheyenne was not a huge town by any stretch of
the imagination and Wiltmore was generally well regarded within the
community for it's academic prowess.

Because the school had some money, the families could afford to invest in
interesting academic opportunities for the student body. One such
opportunity, the two week long trip to Washington D.C., happened every
three years and was perhaps my fondest memory from my time in middle
school. All three grades would go and the whole student body would be
accompanied by all the teachers and a large cadre of parent volunteers. The
crowd, usually around one hundred fifty strong, would spend two solid weeks
in the nation's capital sight seeing, touring, and making memories. Pete
was scheduled to go with the Wiltmore group at the beginning of August and
he was more excited that I had ever seen him.

It rubbed off.

With a week left before takeoff, I decided I wanted to volunteer to go with
the group. It was, after all, my civic duty as a Wiltmore alum. Making the
arraignments was as simple as reaching out to the head of the PTA (a friend
of my mother's), the principle (another friend of the family), and the
school board director (who I didn't know but who's office was easy to
find). After adding them to my colony, all three agreed that I would be a
most welcome addition and waived any and all pre-travel requirements like a
background check and the accompanying paperwork.

We left on three huge buses Saturday morning to catch our flight out of
Denver in the early afternoon. I made sure that every one of the adults was
my drone before we even arrived at the airport and, as the first to board,
tapped each student as they boarded the plane so as to ensure that everyone
would do as I requested. The flight was uneventful, though I had to laugh
when I realized that the Wiltmore contingent made up almost the entire
passenger manifest. I did take the time to slowly walk the isles and make
notes as to which boys I wanted to share my suite with. I had personally
reached out to the hotel and booked the largest suite they had: a massive
living area bordered by two sleeping rooms (each containing two king sized
beds and a hide-away couch/bed) as well as a third bedroom, the
presidential master, which contained it's own king sized bed and a hot tub
in the attached bathroom that seated ten. At three boys per bed, two on
each pullout couch, and myself taking presidential bed as my own, our suite
would contain sixteen boys plus me. While pacing the plane, I made a list
of who those lucky sixteen boys would be.

Five gorgeous eight graders.

Six strapping seventh graders.

Five youthful sixth graders.

And little old me.

As I'm sure you can guess, I picked the best of the fifty-two male students
at Wiltmore. Each boy was cute in his own way and I was salivating at
getting the chance to have some fun with the boys. I hadn't hosted any
orgies during the summer, as the touch of a single boy was still new and
exciting in it's own right, but there was something about traveling across
the country that made me want to be adventurous in my sexual escapades.

My erection lasted practically the whole flight.

We arrived in D.C. late in the evening and another three buses met us at
the airport and took us straight to the hotel. Then the herd invaded and
several floors filled with boys and girls running wildly as they
experienced their first tastes of freedom.The adults did the best they
could to calm the masses but their own excitement at the upcoming
adventures meant that their admonishments were half-hearted at best. Curfew
was at 10pm for the first night and every child was in his or her room by
10:01pm. My mental commands made sure of that.

What would be curious to any casual observer was that several of the boy's
rooms were missing one or two individuals. Had that observer bothered to
look around, they would have found me standing in front of sixteen middle
school boys in the presidential suite ruminating on what we would be doing
for the rest of the trip. As it was, all of the supposed observers were my
drones so no one asked any questions. Lucky me.

My first order of business was that the boys actually needed to get ready
for bed so the next half an hour was spent with boys using the toilets,
bushing their teeth, and putting on their PJ's. Most of them called home to
speak with their parents and wish them goodnight and almost everyone
unpacked their suitcases to some extent. I informed the boys that each one
of them was going to sleep in a different spot every night so none should
become too attached to any particular sleeping arraignment and everyone
nodded in comprehension. I also informed the boys that there was not going
to be a particular story for the next two weeks and that I would, instead,
change the scenario every night to suit my own desires. Again, everyone
understood.

By 10:40, everyone was ready for bed and I had all sixteen meet in one of
the side sleeping rooms. There, all the boys found a place to lay down as I
informed them that the night was going to be quick. The following day was
going to be busy, after all, so they really did need to get to bed. There
was some general whining and requests to stay up late but I told the boys I
wasn't going to be responsible for them being sluggish the following day.

"Alright," I said, looking at my watch. "It's 10:41pm. Last one to cum gets
punished. Go!" Immediately, my orders sank in and most of the boys began
dropping their pajama bottoms and grabbing their hardening cocks. A few of
the younger boys had never masturbated before but a few moments of watching
their companions and the general sexual charge in the air rapidly imparted
upon each of them the wisdom that every boy gains when he discovers his
willy. For nearly three minutes, I sat back on one of the master beds and
stroked myself as I watched the room full of boys frantically jerk off. It
was marvelous.

Then boys began to cum.

"Oh! Yeah!"

"Ugh! Ugh"

"Ohhhhhh!"

Their cries of delight filled the room as young cocks began to throb in
climax, several erupting thin splashes of boycum across heaving bellies and
chests. Two seventh graders who hadn't cum yet joined forces, rolling
together in an impromptu 69 while frantically slurping each other's
dicks. They came moments later, the oral stimulation too much. By 10:56pm,
every boy, save two, had spasmed in pleasure and the crowd was quietly
cheering the last boys on. Both in sixth grade and clearly having never
masturbated before, the two darlings made up for their imperfect technique
with juvenile enthusiasm. Benjamin, however, was just a little too slow and
his competitor squealed in triumph and surprise as his little boyhood had
his first ever dry cum.

"Ben," I said, stopping the boy before he could cum. He looked up at me,
obviously resigned to his fate. "You're with me tonight. Everyone else - to
bed!" I flared my arms dramatically and all the boys, including Ben,
laughed and scampered to their chosen sleeping spots. Stripping off the
rest of his nightclothes, I tossed Ben's stuff onto his backpack and
scooped the boy into my arms, carrying him quickly to my own bedroom.

I had taken approximately thirty boy-cherries over the last several months
and had discovered, much to my delight, that I was rather good at it. With
a cock perfectly designed to fuck boys and with probing mental commands
that could induce relaxation in my partner's tight sphincters, I found that
I could fully impale myself in a virginal boy rather rapidly. Ben was no
exception. By 11:10pm, I had loosened the boy up sufficiently with my
tongue, my fingers, and a lot of lube so as to fully encase my cock in his
vise-like boypussy by 11:15pm. Then his punishment began.

I fucked him hard. I fucked him fast. I pounded the kid with no mercy and
slapped his hand away when it tried to find his throbbing boner.  His first
time was going to be all-anal. When he begged me to slow down, to stop
because something was happening to him, I ignored his pleas and fucked him
even harder. That, of course, drove the kid to his first ever powerful
prostate induced kiddie-cum. He was a moaning mess ten minutes later when
he squealed in climax again and, by his third boygasm, the kid was totally
incoherent. I didn't care. I came, watching as the boy writhed underneath
me in overwhelming pleasure and feeling his asshole milking my spurting
member eagerly.

If you asked Ben by 11:45pm whether he truly felt "punished," the boy would
answer "hell no." He and I were both totally asleep by midnight.

............

The following day was Sunday and we sought out many of the outdoor
monuments and sights. It was a lot of fun but the heat and humidity of
D.C. hit our tour group pretty hard. Wyoming, after all, is not that hot
and not that humid. By mid-day, everyone was dragging a bit and we found
ourselves looking forward to the cool air conditioning of the tour
busses. Still, the excitement of the adventure was palpable and the kids
seemed to dig deep into their reservoirs of pubescent energy.

Because there were so many students, it was impossible to have everyone eat
at the same place (except for the continental breakfast at the hotel) and
no one wanted to live on fast food the entire trip. As such, our tour group
was broken into small groups of teachers, parents, and students for lunch
and dinner which were given ample time to find someplace to eat. Some did
seek out fast food. Others sought out bistros and sandwich shops. I chose
to take Ben, the boy from the night before, to a great Chinese restaurant
for a quick lunch as a "thank you" for the previous evening. He told me it
was the most fun he'd ever had. Dinner, between seven and eight, consisted
of me and my brother Pete living it up at a very fancy steakhouse. We were
stuffed by the time we waddled back to the hotel. Finding nice restaurants
and eateries where I could take a boy or two for lunch or dinner, I
decided, was how I was going to spend the next two weeks.

The steak dinner was heavy in my stomach by the time everyone settled down
for curfew. Though the previous night had been 10pm, that was, as the
principle explained, due to the fact that our flight got in so late. Every
other night would be 9pm, much to the chagrin of the students. The
chaperones were thankful for it, though, because they all felt exhausted
after the day of hard sight-seeing. With some mental prodding, every
student on our tour was in their room by 9:01pm and I fell heavily into a
leather recliner as I lamented that second order of dessert. I was too full
for sex!

I know. It was a rookie mistake.

I ordered my sixteen charges to get ready for bed and they groaned at the
command. "Guys, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, has to take a shower. You
all stink after sweating all day." They laughed. It was true, of
course. They did smell. It was that spicy smell of sweaty boy and I got
hard as I inhaled the delightful musk as it filled the suite. Still, I knew
they needed to be clean both for good hygiene and for the sexcapades that
were forthcoming. So my orders included a shit, a shower, brushing of the
teeth teeth, and pjs.

"But there are only three showers. It's going to take forever," lamented
one of the eighth graders.

I grinned. "Form three lines. No more than three in the shower at any one
time. Help each other out. Wash each other's backs, butts, balls, and
bellybuttons." They all cracked up, thinking it was hysterical. "Then the
cleanest guy gets out and someone takes his place. Easy." The boys nodded
and the next half hour was filled with the sound of horseplay, catcalls,
and general shenanigans. In the mean time, I had gathered their name-tags
(every boy was required to have a name tag on a laniard) and placed them on
the beds, indicating who was sleeping where for the night. Totally random,
with three boys per bed and two per roll-out. I planned on sleeping
alone. By quarter to ten, all of the boys were squeaky clean and settled
into their spots.

Because there were two separate rooms, I decided that I would send out my
commands mentally rather than audibly. First, I informed the boys that no
one was allowed to leave their bed unless they needed to go to the
bathroom. Second, I reminded them that they were all incredibly
horny. Third, I instructed them to release their intense sexual urges with
their bunkmates; preferably more than once. Then I let them at it.

I've had many boy orgies over the years. More than I can count,
actually. But that night has stayed with me as one of my favorite memories
because it was the culmination of so many fantasies come to life. It was,
in a word, spectacular. I wandered between the rooms, nude and throbbing,
as I watched boys jerk each other off, swap eager blowjobs, rim twitching
assholes, and fuck tight virginal boypussys.

On one bed, two large eighth-graders had spit roast a little sixth-grader;
one fucking his spit-slick cunt while the other thrust his hard five inches
deep into the boy's willing throat. As the two older boys spasmed with
their impending orgasms, I reach under the youngster and grasped his hard
little willy, flicking my wrist several times and sending him into an
intense boygasm.

A roll-out featured two seventh graders sitting cock to cock, their lips
locked together in a passionate kiss and their legs spread out behind their
partner. Their cocks, which were almost exactly the same size, were pressed
together and standing at attention while one of the boys slowly worked both
of them with a tight slick fist. I grinned, batting his hand away and
leaning over to engulf both boys in my mouth I bobbed for a few minutes,
enjoying the salty flavor, before both boys shuddered and one cock began to
fire a load down my throat. I swallowed, laughing to myself as the other
boy's cock vibrated just as eagerly but with a dry result.

Little Ben, my lunch mate, was in a fun looking daisy chain with an
eight-grader and a seventh-grader. I sat on the bed for a moment, watching
the magnificent sight of Ben blowing the seventh-grader who was blowing the
eight-grader who was blowing Ben, before wetting two fingers and sliding
them between the two older boy's asscheeks. I tickled their rosebuds for a
minute before both, overwhelmed with the anal stimulation, climaxed. Ben
came two minutes later, the seventh-grader lapping aggressively at his
little member while the eighth-grader munched excitedly at Ben's no-longer
virginal starfish.

I came at the sight, grasping my cock as I felt the orgasm swell and
blasting my seed all over Ben's thrashing body.

I was asleep ten minutes later.

..............

Monday was a museum day, with one in the morning and one in the
afternoon. I took two eighth graders to lunch and we had a grand old
time. Burgers and fries at a local joint, recommended by locals and worth
it!

At the beginning of the afternoon, I found myself with a group of eight of
"my" boys as we stood trying to decide how best to tackle the museum. It
was large and complex and we weren't sure what the best route would be. The
museum, though, had huge signs advertising a guided tour and, after a quick
discussion, the nine of us decided to sign up. The maximum tour size, it
turned out, was twelve.

A family of three joined us for the three hour tour and, much like what
Gilligan experienced, ours turned out to be a similarly fateful trip. Gary
and Linda were a very nice couple in their early forties who had decided to
take their fifteen-year-old son, Chase, to D.C. for a long weekend. Chase
was gorgeous and I drooled at the sight of him. Tall and lanky, he had a
big mop of brown hair and a lovely unmarred complexion. With a goofy smile,
the kid was stunning.

He didn't look at me at all.

He did, however, stare lustily at my boys.

Oh yes, I could tell after only five minutes that Chase was hot for middle
school boy-flesh.

I grinned. It was time to experiment. Making Gary and Linda my drones, I
proceeded to stay far away from Chase so as to keep him out of my
colony. The boys swarmed the high-school sophomore without my interference,
as boys naturally try to impress those older and stronger than they, and
became very friendly and attentive to the teen. He basked in it, his eyes
unsure who to follow as the boys talked, laughed, and roughhoused with
him. By the end of the tour, Chase was besotted with all eight of the
youngsters and my plan had fully formed.

"Mr. Mike," one of the boys said after the twelve of us had left the museum
and were standing around to say our goodbyes. The tour buses were filling
up and it was time to go. "Can Chase spend the night with us in the hotel?
He said he and his parent's aren't flying out until late in the
morning. They could take a taxi to the hotel and pick him up before we get
on the buses."

"Sure!" I said, looking to his parents. "We have plenty of room."

Chase, who had overheard the whole thing but assumed such a thing would
never happened despite how much he wanted it to, blushed and opened his
mouth to politely preempt his oncoming parental denial.

"I think that's a great idea!" said Linda.

"Yes, it gives Linda and I a chance to have some alone time tonight
to... ugh... pack for the return trip." Gary turned to his son, who was
dumbfounded. "Chase, Mr. Mike said you are welcome to stay with them for
the night. Want to?"

It was obvious that Chase wanted to. He wanted to desperately.

"It's settled, then." I said, nodding to Gary and Linda before Chase could
say anything. "Chase, you're with us tonight."

We found ourselves in our hotel room by 7pm, having not gone out for
dinner. Instead, I ordered twelve large pizza's as we drove back so that
the hot cheesy goodness would arrive just as we did. By 7:15, me, Chase,
and my sixteen boys were munching on pizza in our massive suite of rooms
while Chase was introduced to the boys he hadn't met (or lusted after)
earlier that day. Over the course of the next hour and a half, the
seventeen boys laughed, joked, played, and relaxed while every boy excused
himself to take an individual shower and get ready for bed. Chase borrowed
some of my clean boxers and a tee shirt while a quick trip to the hotel
minimart provided him a toothbrush. The boy had warmed up to me
considerably as the evening had progressed, realizing that I was only four
years older than him and pretty chill.

I excused myself at 9pm, feigning exhaustion, and closed the door to my
private room. Shutting off most of the lights, I snuggled down into a comfy
chair and loaded up my favorite erotic story site for some light reading
material.

My boys, at my instruction, had started a game of "truth or dare" just
moments after my door closed. Though Chase had been concerned at first, the
other boys assured him that I was fast asleep, having taken my sleeping
medication, and wouldn't be up until the morning. I was out cold, they
said, and not even a nuclear bomb could wake me. With sixteen voices
echoing that sentiment, Chase eventually came to believe it and settled in
to play.

The game started off tame, I knew, but quickly developed into flashing,
stripping, and fondling. While I wasn't there to watch, I could sense what
was going on behind the door and generally followed the threads of the game
as it took place. When Chase was dared to drop the boxers, the
fifteen-year-old bashfully let his taut erection spring against his flat
belly while the other boys cheered and commented how nice his cock was. One
boy dared one of the seventh graders to suck on it and, before Chase could
react, a hot mouth had engulfed his hard member.

It devolved from there, all pretense of a game gone.

By the time I opened the door half an hour later, the orgy was in full
swing and Chase, bless his heart, was in the very center of it. Laying back
in a recliner with his legs up by two assistants, the overwhelmed boy had
one sixth grader rimming him, a seventh grader blowing him, two eighth
graders suckling his stiff tits (the assistants), and a twelve-year-old's
cock in his mouth. He was in hog heaven.

I stood in the doorway, slowly beating my meat as the boys pooled around
Chase's chair, slurping each other's pricks, rimming each others holes, and
fucking each other senseless as boy after boy took a turn worshiping the
hot fifteen-year-old's body. Before the teen could cum, however, the boys
coaxed him onto the floor where several of the boys took turns fucking his
no longer virgin hole while he slurped every pubescent prick he could
find. He came once, persuaded to release his seed by a hungry
thirteen-year-old mouth that refused to leave his sensitive cock.

I entered and sat down on the couch right before him, smiling as the boy
didn't even notice my presence. Then he did, bless his heart, and his
reaction was priceless.

"You can close your mouth," I said, beaming at him. "I'm glad you and the
boy's are having a good time."

His look of confusion remained but I could tell that, as the moments
slipped by and the cock inside him slipped out, it was beginning to dawn on
him that he wasn't in trouble. He opened his mouth to speak. I beat him to
it.

"But now that you are part of our group, you have certain duties to
perform." I pointed to one of the love-seats where one of the seventh grade
boys was laying on his back, his legs back near his ears and his hole
visible to the entire room. "Poor Shawn needs someone to eat his ass. Can
you help him?"

It took a moment for my words to sink in but Chase's look of shock faded
and he grinned, crawling over to the love-seat before hauling himself up
and burying his tongue straight into the twelve-year-old's backside. The
other boys hooted before resuming their own endeavors and I watched for a
few minutes as Shawn wriggled around under Chase's loving ministrations.

"I bet he's ready to be fucked, Chase." I said quietly.

The words were barely past my lips when Chase plunged his five-inches balls
deep into the preteen, the two of them moaning in animal passion. Chase
came after a few minutes of wild fucking. Shawn did too.

Then I took Chase, making him my drone as I stole his virginity and fucked
him, still buried deep in Shawn, to a powerful anal climax. It was a very
good night.

.........

Tuesday morning started out well, with all of us saying our goodbyes to
Chase before our entire tour group headed to that morning's museum. Then we
packed up and went to D.C.'s largest mall, giving everyone an opportunity
to eat at the food court and do a little shopping. Me and my group sat at
one of the tables in the food court, laughing and joking and planning for
the day ahead.

Then Leslie Morrow became my drone.

Now, that might not seem like a big deal. After all, I was making people my
drones pretty regularly.

It was a big deal.

You see, I was not touching Leslie Morrow. I was sitting at a sticky food
court table surrounded by a group of middle school boys. Leslie, a friendly
nineteen-year-old college drop-out and part time Ice Cream Group cashier,
was fifty feet away, handing an ice-cream cone to William Mahoney. William,
a good looking eighth grader and part of "my" group, was taking the
ice-cream cone from Leslie and their fingers were touching
ever-so-slightly.