Timmy and the Travellers – Chapter 2
At the end of the last chapter we left the travellers rubbing their hands with glee in anticipation of all the nasty things they could do to their newly-acquired slave. In this episode they start teaching poor little Timmy exactly what he's let himself in for.
Late on Friday evening Christy started sneezing, and on Saturday morning he was feeling distinctly rough. His mother flatly refused to let him leave the caravan, and when Michael came to call for him she wouldn't let him in.
"I think he's got the flu," she said. "You'd better not come in or you'll get it, too."
By Saturday evening Christy had decided that she was probably right: he felt grim, and in no condition to do anything except stay in bed.
This left Michael with a problem. He supposed he could just deal with his slave by himself for a while until Christy was up and about again, but sharing was always a lot more fun... He debated for a while about who he could trust to keep a secret, and in the end he came to the conclusion that his own kid brother would be his best bet: it wasn't that Danny was particularly close-mouthed, but Michael knew that he would be able to keep a close eye on him, and besides, Danny knew better than to annoy his brother.
He found Danny round the back of the water tower, wrestling with his best friend Tom. Michael barely hesitated: Tom could be relied upon to do whatever was in Danny's best interests, which in this case would simply mean keeping his mouth shut, and bullying Timmy would be even more fun with three of them than it would be with two.
"Do you want to know a secret?" he asked Danny, and both ten-year-olds immediately stopped wrestling and stared at him.
He swore them both to secrecy and threatened them with hideous retribution if word leaked out, and then took them for a walk down the lane.
"Me and Christy, we got a place," he told them. "It's a secret, nobody knows about it except the two of us, so if you tell anyone - anyone at all - we'll both kick the shit out of you every day for a month. Got it?"
"Got it," they both agreed, nodding vigorously.
"Good. Okay, this is it."
He led them past the tangle of undergrowth at the end of the drive and through to the more easily navigable section that Timmy had cleared on the Friday, and from there into the garage.
"Wow!" exclaimed Tom. "Doesn't this belong to someone... I mean, won't we get into trouble if someone comes?"
"It probably did belong to someone, but it looks like it's been abandoned for years," Michael told him. "Nobody's been here for ages, to judge by the garden, so no, nobody's going to come now - which means that we won't get into trouble. Unless you two open your mouths to the wrong people, that is."
"We won't tell anyone," promised Danny. "This will be a brilliant place to hide when..."
"...when dad wants us to do something like work," finished Michael. "Me and Christy already worked that out. But if you two are going to know about it as well we need to look out for a couple more chairs, and anything else that might be useful. So I want you to keep an eye out, okay?"
They promised that they would.
"Anyway, this is only part of the secret," Michael went on. "How would you like to help me beat up a townie?"
The two ten-year-olds looked at each other, their faces lighting up.
"Yeah!" cried Danny. "Except... we'd definitely get into trouble for that - wouldn't we?"
"Yeah, we would," agreed Tom. "You know how it goes, Michael - you've only got to touch one of those poncey little town kids, and next minute there'd be cop cars all over the place and we'd all end up in care, or something."
"Not this time," said Michael, happily.
"How come?" asked his brother.
"Cos this one's promised not to tell anyone."
"You can't trust them!" said Danny, straight away. "They're all liars, Mikey."
"I don't think this one is. He swore on the Bible he'd do whatever we told him, and so far he's kept his word. I'm pretty sure we could do anything we wanted to him and he'd still keep schtum."
"And he hasn't got a big brother with a gun, or anything?"
"No brothers at all. And he's a total weed - either of you could beat him up with one hand tied behind your back. He's thirteen, but he looks younger than you two, and he's such a little pansy that when I showed him my knife he pissed in his pants."
"Really. It ran down his leg and soaked his sock. God, it was funny. So - how do you feel about bossing a thirteen-year-old town kid about?"
"Yeah!!" they cried together, and Tom was so enthusiastic that he actually jumped up and down and clapped his hands a couple of times.
"Okay. Then you need to be here on Monday afternoon at four o'clock," Michael told them. "But you have got to keep this quiet in the meantime - if the grown-ups hear about it they'll put a stop to it for sure, and I'm not having my fun spoiled 'cos you two have got big mouths, understand?"
"Okay," they promised.
- off you go, and see if you can find us some furniture."
Christy was still confined to quarters on Monday afternoon, so Michael took his brother and Tom to the garage at about quarter to four. Danny suggested that the kid wouldn't turn up, but Michael was so sure he would that he offered to bet them fifty pee. They didn't have fifty pee between them, so they couldn't take the bet, which was just as well because Timmy walked into the garage just before four o'clock.
"Who are they?" he asked, looking at Danny and Tom in dismay.
"That's my brother Danny, and that's his mate Tom."
"He's ill, so these two are taking his place for a bit. See, they get bored easily, so today you're going to keep them entertained - saves me having to think of something for them to do. Why haven't you started getting undressed?"
Timmy realised that there was no point in arguing. Instead he collected the hanger from its place on the shelf and started to take his clothes off, hanging them up carefully as he did so. He removed his watch and St Christopher and put them into his blazer pocket, and finally slipped his pants off and tucked them in with them. The younger travellers took one look at his groin and started laughing.
"Small, isn't it?" commented Michael.
"Small? It's pathetic!" said Danny, trying to control his laughter.
"Why hasn't he got any balls?" asked Tom.
"I have!" said Timmy, indignantly. "They're just not very big yet."
"You're not joking," said Tom, giggling some more.
"Okay, you two, he's all yours. What do you want him to do?"
"Let's play Indians!" said Danny. "He can be our prisoner - he's managed to escape from us and we have to hunt him down."
"Yeah, brilliant!"" agreed Tom. "It'll be quite fair, 'cos we haven't really had a chance to explore the woods yet, so we don't know where all the hiding places are. Come on, then... what's your name?"
"Come on, then, Timmy - we can get into the woods just up the lane. We'll give you a chance to get away and then come after you."
"But... I can't... I mean, I can't play in the woods without any clothes on!"
"Yes, you can. Nobody's going to see you. I bet nobody ever goes in the woods."
"But... I'll get hurt! It's all brambles and things - I can't run about undressed..."
"He's right," said Michael, surprising Timmy. "You'll have to let him wear his shoes, otherwise he'll get thorns in his feet before he's gone ten yards. Put them on, Timmy - but nothing else, mind. If you're careful you should be able to move as long as your feet are safe."
Slowly Timmy put his shoes on and tied the laces. He tried once more to talk them out of it, but of course they were determined, and soon he was being escorted up the drive. Michael came with them to help push the brambles away so that Timmy could get past, and he actually carried him over the thickest bit, but once they had reached the lane he turned to go back to the garage.
"If you need me to help get him back down the drive after, come and get me," he said.
"We won't," his brother assured him. "He's such a weed either of us can carry him. Course, we might drop him in the middle of a bramble-bush..."
Michael grinned at them and went back to the garage, and Danny and Tom shepherded Timmy up the lane for fifty yards or so until they reached a place where they could scramble up the bank and into the wood.
"Okay, here's the rules," Danny told him. "You've escaped from our camp and we're trying to recapture you. We'll give you a count of a hundred to get away, and then we'll be after you. If we find you inside twenty minutes, we'll have won and you'll get punished. If we don't, you've won and we'll take you back to the garage and let you get dressed and go home, unless my brother wants you for anything else. Okay?"
"I suppose so," said Timmy.
"Right. Go, then. One, two, three..."
Timmy scampered off into the woods. It was difficult because the undergrowth was quite heavy, so he was restricted as to where he could go, and when he started looking about for somewhere to hide he couldn't find anywhere: all the bushes were brambles and thorns, and it would be completely impossible for him to crawl into one of them without quite thick clothes.
He realised that by now the hunters would be after him, but he couldn't find anywhere to hide at all, and in the end he just found the biggest tree he could and squatted down at the base of it, hoping that he would be able to keep the trunk between him and the hunters. And at first he thought he might get away with it: he didn't have his watch, but he thought that about ten minutes must have gone by since he started running. Then he caught sight of them through the trees. He tried to wriggle round the tree trunk, but he was hampered by a small thorn bush, and as he tried to manoeuvre round it he knelt on a dead branch, which cracked noisily.
"There he is!" cried Tom.
Timmy jumped up and started to run, but they caught up with him quickly and grabbed him. Danny looked at his watch.
"Oh dear," he said, happily. "Only twelve minutes. Now we'll have to teach you a lesson. Get down on your hands and knees."
Timmy dropped to all fours, and Danny undid his belt and took it off. He still couldn't really believe he was actually going to be able to beat a townie, and one three years older than himself, at that, but the prisoner showed no signs of arguing. So he doubled his belt over and swung it hard at Timmy's bottom. It connected with a satisfying crack, and Timmy gave a gasp but stayed where he was.
Oh, brilliant, thought Danny, we really can do what we want to him...
He swung again, harder this time, and Timmy gave a cry of pain, and once more, as hard as he could, and Timmy gave a louder cry and jerked forward.
"Keep still!" snapped Danny. "Otherwise we'll have to start again. You've only had three so far: naughty little boys get at least six. You should know that. Go on, Tom, your turn."
He handed the belt to Tom, who wound up and delivered a good hard blow that made Timmy cry out once more. He put a hand back towards his bottom.
"Don't you dare do that!" shouted Danny. "Keep your hands on the ground or you'll get twenty instead of six."
With a stifled sob Timmy obeyed, and Tom hit him again, making him squeal once more. The third one was delivered at full strength, and Timmy shrieked and fell forwards onto his tummy.
"Get up!" ordered Danny.
Timmy stumbled to his feet, clutching his bottom and writhing about. He had tears on his face, and this made Danny feel powerful and strong. He looked at Tom and saw that his face was shining with excitement, too.
"Okay, so now you know what happens when you mess up," he said to Timmy. "That was only six little ones - your next punishment will be a lot worse than that. Okay, you've got another chance now. Go!"
Sobbing, Timmy stumbled away, still clutching at his sore bottom: he had never in his life been so much as lightly slapped before, and it felt as if his bum was on fire. But this time he had a plan. He ran away from the boys as fast as he could while avoiding the worst of the undergrowth, and once he was out of sight he circled off to his left. He knew the abandoned house had hedges around it, and he thought that if he could get close enough to one of the hedges he might be able to burrow into it far enough to be out of sight.
It took longer than he had thought to find the house: he hadn't been quite where he thought he was when he started his second run. By the time the hedge loomed up he knew the hunters would be after him.
The trouble was that the hedge was badly untended, and there were lots of brambles growing with it: he was unable to get close enough to the hedge to be out of sight. In the end he just lay down as close to it as he could get and pulled some dead leaves over himself to try to make it harder to see his pale body.
A long time seemed to go by, but then he heard voices. He tried to burrow into the ground and then froze, hoping that they would just go past, but he was disappointed: once more there was a cry of "There he is!", and this time there was nowhere to run to: the hedge blocked off his escape route. Once more he was grabbed and pushed to his knees.
"That was a pretty good try," said Danny, checking his watch. "Eighteen minutes that time. And it was a good idea to try hiding here, too - if you'd gone a little bit further before you turned left we wouldn't have seen which was you'd gone, and then we'd never have found you in time."
"But we did, though, so now you're gonna get punished," Tom told him.
"Let's take him back to the garage," suggested Danny. "Then Michael will be able to join in with beating him."
They pulled Timmy to his feet and marched him back to the lane, checked that there was nobody about, and then pulled him back to the house. Between them they got him past the thick brambles and back to the garage.
"Have fun?" asked Michael, looking up from his game of Patience.
"Brilliant! He didn't manage to hide at all the first time, so we had to whip him, and the second time he didn't quite manage to stay hidden long enough, so now we've got to punish him again - and we thought you might like to have a go, too."
"Great! What did you beat him with?"
"My belt," said Danny, taking it off again.
"Okay," said Michael. He positioned Timmy bending over one of the chairs and invited Tom to go first. Tom took the belt with enthusiasm and delivered a fine blow, drawing a loud squeal from his victim.
They gave him two each, by the end of which he was sobbing and pleading for them to stop, swearing he'd do whatever they told him if only they'd stop.
Michael found himself sharing the same feelings as the other two had experienced earlier: feelings of excitement and power. He wanted to make the little townie poof scream some more, but he realised that it would be stupid to push him right over the edge: he might run off and tell, and then they'd all be in trouble. They would have to find other ways of having fun with him...
Danny had delivered the last couple of blows, and he was still skipping about, his face shining with excitement - and, Michael realised, looking at his brother's trousers, he had an erection. That gave Michael an idea.
"We'd better not hit him any more today," he said. "It would be a bit unfair - after all, this is the first time, and I bet a good little boy like our Timmy isn't used to getting spanked. Let's try embarrassing him to death instead. Danny, why don't you show him what a proper cock looks like?"
"Should I?" asked Danny.
"Go on. Otherwise he might go through life thinking that pathetic little thing he's got is a normal-sized one."
"Okay," said Danny, showing no reluctance at all: he was proud of his cock, which he knew was a lot bigger than Timmy's. He dropped his trousers to his ankles (he wasn't wearing any pants) and lifted his shirt out of the way, revealing a very stiff penis. It was a little under four inches long, sticking up at an angle of about forty-five degrees. He had no hair, but his balls were quite large and soft.
"Stand up and compare it to yours," Michael ordered Timmy, who obeyed: Danny's knob was bigger than Timmy's and Timmy seemed to have no shaft at all, so that Danny appeared to be more than three inches longer.
"Well, Timmy?" challenged Michael. "What do you think?"
"It's bigger than mine," mumbled Timmy, looking at the floor.
"Sorry? We can't hear you."
"It's bigger than mine," said Timmy, slightly louder.
"Okay, now kneel down and tell it what you think of it."
Timmy hesitated, but only until Danny swished his belt through the air. Then he dropped to his knees.
"Go on, then," said Michael. "Be totally honest: do you like it? Do you wish you had one that big? Tell the truth."
"I do like it," Timmy admitted, staring at it. "It's nice, and it really is much bigger than mine. I wish mine was that big."
The three travellers laughed at him, making rude comments, but Michael hadn't finished with him yet.
"If you really like it, prove it," he said. "Kiss it."
"No!" cried Timmy in horror. "That would be a dirty thing to do!"
"Yes, but it won't hurt as much as another twenty whips, will it?"
"No, but... please, Michael, do I have to?"
"Yes, you do. Now."
Reluctantly Timmy leaned forward and brushed his lips against a point halfway down the shaft.
"No, not like that - do it properly. You have to kiss it on the tip, not halfway down. And you'd better kiss his balls, too - that's those two things underneath it, like all proper boys have and like you haven't got. Get on with it," he added, as Timmy opened his mouth to argue.
Slowly Timmy leaned forward and planted a kiss on the tip of Danny's foreskin. Then he kissed each ball, moved back again and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
"That's better," said Michael. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Now you'd better do it for Tom as well."
Tom didn't need asking twice: quickly he removed his trousers and flourished an equally stiff penis in Timmy's face. His was marginally shorter than Danny's, but it was a bit thicker, though it was equally hairless. This time Timmy knew the drill: he kissed the tip of the foreskin and each ball, and this time he managed not to wipe his mouth afterwards.
"Now what?" asked Danny excitedly, his erection twitching. "What else can we make him do, Mikey?"
"I think that's enough for today," said Michael, resisting the temptation to get his own cock out: there'd be plenty of opportunities for that later, he figured. "He's been a good boy, hasn't he? Okay, so he didn't manage to hide from you, but that wasn't really disobedience, so we shouldn't be too cruel to him. You can get dressed now, Timmy."
The two younger boys made noises of disappointment, but Timmy didn't care: he just grabbed his pants and pulled them on. The two younger boys dressed as well, and when Timmy was dressed they escorted him back to the lane.
"Tell the truth, Timmy," said Michael. "What was the worst punishment, getting the belt or having to kiss Danny's and Tom's knobs?"
"I didn't like either of them," said Timmy. "It's dirty having to kiss a boy's... you know, and it did make me ashamed seeing how big they are compared to me - but... well... I suppose at least that didn't hurt the way the belt did. My bottom's still really sore."
"Okay. We'll remember that for next time, and maybe we'll only whip you if you really deserve a bad punishment," said Michael. "And I don't suppose that'll happen too often."
Timmy walked away up the lane, and the three travellers went back to the garage.
"So - was that fun, or what?" Michael asked them.
"It was magic!" replied his brother. "I loved making him cry!"
"And I liked making him kiss my cock," said Tom. "That was really funny."
"So you want to go on helping me deal with him?"
"Bloody hell, yes," confirmed his brother.
time we'll have to go a lot further, of course. I want to really
make him suffer next time. I love watching townies grovel..."
The following evening started much the same way: Timmy, naked except for his shoes, was escorted into the wood and told to go and hide. This time, however, Michael came along as well.
"And you're only getting one chance tonight," he said, "so if you want to save yourself a lot of nastiness, you'd better hide well. Okay, we're counting - off you go."
Timmy was a clever boy and he'd been thinking hard about this since the previous evening. He had come to the conclusion that the best way to escape would be just to keep running in a straight line from the moment he left the hunters, instead of trying to hide - that way he should be able to stay ahead of them for twenty minutes at least. Second best would be to try hiding in the same place as the previous evening, which he was fairly sure they would not expect. With only one chance to get it right he decided to go for the first option, and so as soon as Michael said "go" he headed off as fast as he could into the heart of the wood.
This turned out to be the wrong choice. Before very long he reached the edge of the wood: there was a barbed wire fence and beyond it a field of fairly short grass, which would offer no hiding place at all, even if he managed to get past or under the fence without cutting himself. He turned left and followed the fence for a while and then turned back into the wood, hoping to be able to make it back as far as the hedge before they caught up with him, but he heard voices before the hedge even came into view.
Now he had the same problem as on the first evening: he couldn't get into the bushes, and there was nowhere else to hide... unless...
Timmy was no athlete, but even he could manage to get up into this tree, which had friendly branches low enough for even someone with no strength in his arms to manage. He scrambled up onto the lowest branch and them made his way as far up as he could, trying not to make any noise. He had read somewhere that hunters never seem to look up, and now he was going to get a chance to see if it was true.
At this time of year there were almost no leaves on the trees. Later in the year this would have been a good hiding place, but with no leaves to hide him, his pale skin stood out too easily against the browns and greys around him, and Michael saw him while he was still some way off - which meant that he hardly needed to look up at all. He called the other two over and they made their way to the foot of the tree.
"Oh, look," he said, "a skinny little townie in a tree. How long, Danny?"
"Sixteen minutes," said his brother.
"Not even close," said Michael. "Looks like more punishments, Timmy."
"You haven't caught me yet," Timmy pointed out.
"Now there's a challenge," said Michael. "Okay, who wants to go up there and push him out?"
"Me!" the two younger boys cried together.
"I won't let you up!" Timmy warned them.
"What are you going to do? Drop twigs on me?" scoffed Danny, reaching for the lowest branch.
Timmy looked around, but there was nothing he could use as a weapon. Danny pulled himself onto the lowest branch.
"Stop, or... or..."
"Or what?" grinned Danny clambering onto the next branch.
"Or... or I'll pee on you!" cried Timmy.
"You wouldn't dare!"
"I will! I mean it!"
"No, you don't," said Danny, confidently, climbing upwards.
Timmy assumed the pose, but Danny just kept climbing, and soon he was able to grab Timmy's left ankle. Timmy's shoulders slumped.
"Eighteen minutes," said Danny, checking his watch. "Come on down."
They both climbed down, and they all headed back towards the lane.
"Why didn't you?" asked Danny. "Couldn't you go?"
"No, I could have done. But... well, I thought it would just make you mad, and then you'd hit me a lot harder. And it wouldn't really have kept you out - I could have done it once, but after that you'd have been able to come up and grab me. Besides, it would have been really dirty - I don't really think I could actually go to the toilet on someone."
"I would have done if it had been me up there," said Danny. "It would have been really funny, peeing all over your head."
They marched Timmy back to the garage and made him take his shoes off.
"I reckon if you had pissed on my brother we would have had to whip you," Michael told him. "But as you didn't, maybe we can let you off a bit easier tonight. You'd have to be nice to my brother's cock again, though. Go on, Danny, get undressed. You too, Tom."
"What, everything?" asked Danny.
"Yes. This time we're really going to show him up."
The two younger boys stripped naked, and once again they both had erections.
"Okay, Timmy," said Michael, "we'll give you a chance to get out of this again. We already know these two have both got much bigger cocks than you; now we're going to see if they're stronger than you as well. If they are, you're going to have to admit to them what a total baby and weed you are, but if not, we'll let you get dressed and go home. Sit down at the table."
Timmy did so, and Michael positioned the other chair on the opposite side and told Danny to sit down.
"Now you're going to arm wrestle," he said, looking at Timmy's skinny little arms and suppressing a grin. "Right arms first - and no holding the table with your other hand! Ready, steady, go!"
Danny won inside ten seconds, and using the left hand he won even quicker. Then he swapped places with Tom, who took a little longer to achieve the same result.
"God, you really are feeble," commented Michael scornfully. "Getting shown up all the time by ten-year-olds - how pathetic! Oh, well, you had your chance to get out of it; now you're going to have to pay the price. Kneel down and kiss my brother's feet and tell him how much better than you he is - and if I don't think you mean it, I might have to whip you."
He picked up his brother's belt and swished it meaningfully.
Timmy dropped to his knees, bent forward and started kissing Danny's feet.
"You're much stronger than me," he said. "I don't blame you for laughing at me - I deserve it."
"Now kiss his balls," ordered Michael, "and then his cock. Lots of times, this time, not just once."
Timmy started kissing Danny's genitals, while Danny tried to suppress his laughter and keep still. Michael swished the whip idly, and Timmy took that as his cue to humiliate himself some more.
"You've got such a big... a big one," said Timmy. "I really wish I had one as big as this."
"Now lick his balls, like a dog," ordered Michael, making the younger boys laugh some more. Timmy obeyed, running his tongue over Danny's scrotum.
"That tickles!" said Danny.
"And now lick his cock."
This brought the first hesitation from Timmy, but only for a second. He leaned forward and touched the shaft with his tongue.
"Not like that! Pretend it's an ice-lolly - start at the bottom and lick your way up to the top."
Timmy closed his eyes, swallowed, and did as he was told.
"Wow! That feels weird!" commented Danny.
"And now you can really do it properly," Michael went on. "Put it in your mouth, keep it there and lick it all over."
"No, please, Michael," begged Timmy. "I can't... it would make me sick..."
"No, it won't. Do it, or I'll whip you hard and still make you do it."
With a sort of choked sob, Timmy opened his mouth and closed his lips around the rigid shaft. Then he started to lick. He was agreeably surprised to find that it didn't taste as bad as he had expected: there was a faint hint of pee, but by concentrating on how sore his bottom had felt after the previous evening's whipping he managed to make himself keep doing it.
"That really does feel strange," said Danny. "It's nice, though. Lick harder, Timmy."
"Nice?" though Michael. "Oho!"
He had never been out with a girl, but he knew a lot more about sex than a lot of boys of his age, and he had an idea of what Danny was feeling. So...
"Now pretend it's an ice-cream again," he instructed. "Squeeze with your lips and slide it out of your mouth, then keep doing it - and you have to keep licking all the time, too."
Timmy, who knew absolutely nothing about sex - he had no older siblings, and none of his friends knew much about it, either: theirs was a school where sex education was non-existent - did as he was told. As far as he was aware, this was just a way of embarrassing him by making him do something dirty.
"Wow! Now that feels really nice!" exclaimed Danny. "Keep doing it like that!"
Timmy did so, deeply ashamed, but aware that at least this didn't hurt.
"Try keeping your lips closed when you go back to the bottom," said Danny after a bit. "That way it feels nice all the time."
Timmy did that, too, and now Danny was starting to feel really, really good - in fact, he thought, he was starting to get close to that really good feeling he got when he rubbed himself. Michael had shown him how to do that some time previously, and he enjoyed it, but this was even better: this time he didn't have to do anything, and he was totally humiliating a town boy at the same time.
Steadily he got closer and closer to it. By now he was holding Timmy's head and pulling him against his cock, and he could feel it building up and up...
Michael watched his brother with interest: he could tell that an orgasm was imminent, and wondered if it could possibly feel as good as Danny's expression said it did. Up until now he hadn't seriously considered using Timmy for sex: he had intended humiliating him by keeping naked and making him do menial jobs like cleaning his shoes and keeping the garage tidy. But this opened a whole new set of possibilities - and what could be more humiliating for a town kid than having to suck traveller kids off, over and over again? Well, he thought a moment later, there was something that would be even worse...
Danny achieved his climax with a cry, thrusting himself against Timmy's face.
"What's wrong?" asked Tom. "Did he bite you?"
"No, nothing's wrong - okay, Timmy, you can stop now. No, it was brilliant - he made me come."
"What, you mean like when you rub it?" asked Tom, who had been taught that art by Danny in turn.
"Yes, but ten times better. You'll see - it's your turn now. Go on, then, Timmy, do the same thing to Tom like you just done to me."
Timmy, who had no idea what had just happened - Danny was too young to produce any sperm - shrugged, knelt in front of Tom and carried on where he had left off with Danny, and pretty soon Tom realised what Danny had been talking about: it felt absolutely magic. It took him a bit longer to reach climax, but he got there, gasping and thrusting, in the end.
"Okay," he said, shoving Timmy away, "stop."
"Nice?" asked Michael.
"Absolutely brilliant - you wouldn't believe what that felt like."
“Looks like we've found another way to punish naughty slaves, then, doesn't it?"
"You bet! I'm going to make him to that loads of times!"
"What about you, Timmy? Would you rather do that or get whipped?"
"That, I suppose. But I don't understand why they liked it."
"It doesn't matter. Okay, you two had better get dressed and go now."
"Aren't you going to have a go?" asked Danny.
"Maybe later. Go on, get dressed and go home."
The two younger boys looked at each other, shrugged, pulled their clothes on and left.
"Okay, slave boy," said Michael, "now it's just you and me..."
Hmmm... that sounds ominous. Timmy's getting deeper and deeper into trouble here. But in the next chapter things are going to take a turn for the better, even though the poor lad doesn't know it yet...
Copyright February 2007 – all rights reserved. Please do not reprint, repost or otherwise reproduce this or any part thereof anywhere without my written permission.