Date: Sun, 29 Mar 2020 07:59:12 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 49 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 49 I knelt as Luke required, vowing to myself to try to be as relaxed as possible. It was very clear that for the next part of our engagement Luke was going to be the master. My arse greeted the touch of his fingers by opening a little. "You are accustomed to bees seeking what nectar they need up your arse, Seth, 'twill make my task and your enjoyment of us much greater." "Three fingers, Luke, you have small hands." Luke chuckled. "We shall see, Seth, we shall see." I wasted no time wondering what his words might portend, for the three fingers I had invited in were making their presence felt. He found that magical thing inside all men and rubbed it gently; my cock lurched and a dribble of the last spending dropped slowly from it. Even though Luke had cleaned me thoroughly there was still some to deliver! It fell to the bed, attached still to my cock by the thinnest silken strand, like a spider-web in Autumn. His fingers played merry music in me, now stretching wide, now plunging deeply in. I sighed happily. "I think you are able to allow me greater penetration, Seth." I groaned, for his fingers were very active. "Yes, Luke, you can try, but be careful, I beg you." Luke laughed. "Seth, you must know that I have done this before -" (it was my turn to laugh) "- and I can tell when a gentleman's arse would welcome proper filling." He withdrew his hand very swiftly - I could almost hear my arse lips snap shut - and reached to the stand for a small towel which he placed under my belly. Evidently I was going to shoot my spunk there in due course. He also reached for a jar on the stand. He poured a quantity of liquid on his hand and allowed more to fall into my arse crack. I shuddered: it was cold. His fingers entered me again, slipping in much more easily that they had before. My arse had not been dry by any means, but this liquid with which he had anointed himself (and my arse) was very slippery. Out he came and he made a curious shape with his hand, making the four fingers into a shape resembling a church steeple. He leaned forward to show me, and I saw that his thumb was tucked into the steeple. "I'm going to fist you, Seth, and it may hurt a little at first. But you remember when you were first fucked it hurt a little, did it not?" I nodded. "Well, this will be the same. I will pause when you are about to accept my fist, and you will say 'yea' or 'nay'. I will obey you, Seth, but I hope you will tolerate a few seconds of hell to earn a lifetime of heaven." Put like that it was hard not to be both alarmed by the idea of hell, while being attracted by what he said laid thereafter. "Very well, Luke. I trust you," I said. "Relax then, and when I say 'push' you must push as though the biggest shit of your life is urgently needing to be released.2 I laughed, and of course he knew that I would, for the great size of his steepled fist was in me - hard in me - in no time. The pain was great, but it was accompanied by a great heat in the same place. My eyes watered ... I counted to five ... the pain began to ease, although my arse must have been opened twice as wide as it had ever been before. "Yes, Luke," I whispered. "Push, Seth, push like buggery," and I pushed and ... Luke's hand was in me, and not just in me but pressing further in me with each second that passed. "Wait," I panted, "let me enjoy it." Luke was still. A thousand years passed while my arse was overcome with a wash of new and thrilling sensations. I had had plenty of cocks up there, but never any which provoked such feelings in such new parts of me. "Can I push further?" he said. I nodded, "how much further can you go?" "A bit yet. You'll feel my fist bumping into something and you'll know that's as far as I can go. Your guts turn a corner there - that's what you'll feel." Slowly his fist - his arm - lost itself in my insides until I felt a new sensation - not uncomfortable, but very strange. "I think that's it," I murmured. Luke looked at his arm. "Yes," he said, "that looks to be right. Now relax, Seth, while I give you a new thing to remember." What could this be, I wondered, for my brain was already overtaxed with new feelings. I soon discovered, for Luke withdrew his hand several inches until the widest part of his knuckles were only just inside my arse. The heat as I was again stretched was very thrilling and my cock was as rigid as it had ever been. I could see that the juice was very considerable. "That's a nice lot of precum you're making, Seth, it won't be long before the real thing." I had not given it a name before. Luke's hand went all the way in again and more precum leaked. The towel was well positioned! Luke's arm behaved in my arse as my cock had behaved in his, although to a considerably larger degree. Fast and fierce he drew out, leaving me hugely stretched, and plunged in, pushing against the bend in my guts. Hotter and hotter I felt my whole insides and my balls responded soon enough. With a loud groan I felt spunk hurtling from me again and again. As soon as he saw I was coming Luke pulled his arm back until his knuckles were upon the magic place, whereupon he twisted his hand vigorously back and forth, rubbing the magic place over and over. Each time my cock spewed out more spunk (the towel had not been large enough, I was chagrined to see) until at length Luke stopped. My balls were empty, my cock wilting after the most prodigious spunking of my life, my arse still host to the wonderful hand which had conjured so much pleasure in so unpromising a pleasure-garden. Luke allowed his hand to slip out. "You enjoyed that, Seth. It's called 'fisting'." Another word learned. Luke knelt over my chest, his cock hard again, only inches from my mouth. "Suck me, Seth," he whispered, "suck me while your arse is still on fire." I opened my mouth: even if I had wanted to refuse - which assuredly I did not, even though I was exhausted - I would not have been able. Luke's cock mesmerised me and my lips parted: he drew back his ample foreskin and my tongue tasted the raw head of his cock, still redolent with the heady scent of his earlier spending (for though I had sucked him most thoroughly his cock, like mine, had leaked more as our lusts rekindled). I loved his taste: young, animal; oh God! I thought, I was losing any control of myself. My tongue roamed urgently over his cock head and Luke's right hand, so recently deep inside me and still wet with the liquid and the juices of my arse, beat his cock swiftly. His eyes were shut, his hand flew, his body pressed his cock deeper into my mouth until, with a groan his hand was still. A second passed ... another ... then a torrent of hot essence of boy flooded my mouth. Not a series of pulses as a spunking usually comes, but a single gush, much like (albeit on a smaller scale) a burst of piss. He fell forward over me, his cock wilting but still in the spunky cavern of my mouth. I was not willing to exchange with him this time, for I wanted the full pleasure of his cock's bounty. I swallowed, and as I did so the effect of my throat on his soft spent cock drew another sigh, deeper than any he had so far uttered. "You are magic, Seth," he whispered, his face next to mine. We remained like that, both filled with warm release, for some few minutes. Then he leapt up. "I need a piss," he said, "are you a player of such games, Seth? You have not paid the Master, and I shall not tell him, for - truth to tell - I have enjoyed our time more than I thought possible." I was touched by what was evidently a friendly offer, but I had no understanding of what he meant. What extra money might I have offered? He saw that I was puzzled. "Seth," he said gently, still standing by the bed, "there are men for whom the other liquid that comes out of their cock is just as much fun to share." "You mean piss?" "Yes, Seth, and if you have no wish to piss with me I must attend to my needs ... but might you not care to experiment? You enjoyed fisting and - who knows? - you might enjoy what the list calls 'golden showers'." I had seen those words, but had not understood their meaning, nor had I wished to show my ignorance to Robert by asking. "What is involved, Luke? Tell me." He took my hand and pointed to the commode. "If the client needs to piss during a session that is where he does it - or if I need to piss. But through here -" (he drew back a curtain I had not noticed) "- is somewhere where two gentlemen may, if they stand very close to one another, both piss at the same time. Come, let me show you." As I had been entranced by his cock a few minutes earlier now I was unable to resist his drawing me behind the curtain He went to open a door which the curtain had hidden, but it was locked. "Damnation," he said, "the chamber must be in use. There are four doors which lead to it, and four of the bedrooms can have access. One of the others must be busy. I can wait a few minutes before I can no longer hold it, so let us try again when they might have finished." We went back to the bed to wait. "What happens in there, Luke?" "You will see, Seth. There is a small room some four feet square made of four doors, each with a separate room behind, like this one. The Master had it constructed some years ago and it is very popular. The floor is tiled and in the centre is a place where water can drain, washed away by a spout in the ceiling. There is barely room for two, which is just as it should be." He squeezed my hand. "I hope we can play there, Seth, for I know you will enjoy what happens. If I can hold it in until we get there I will piss on you, on your cock, over your arse, wherever you choose, and you will do the same to me. I can tell that you are interested, for your cock is hard with my telling you." It was true - I was full hard, even though what he was describing seemed very odd behaviour, although I had to concede that to many folk what we had already enjoyed was far from being acceptable. Why should having his piss on my belly be any different from having his spunk there ... and why should my belly be the only place: after all, his spunk had been very welcome in my mouth. No, Seth, you would not let Luke piss in your mouth, surely? Luke's ears heard a sound from behind the curtain and he leapt up. "Quick, Seth, the room is free. We must occupy it before anyone else." Three seconds later we were behind the curtain, through the door and standing in a very strange space, exactly as he had described it. He shot the three bolts which led to other rooms. "Now we are here, Seth, and none may interrupt us. Where is it your will to be pissed upon?" So swiftly had we moved from a discussion on the bed to being in the performing arena, as it were, that I had given no thought to what he had said. However my indecision was of no consequence, for Luke murmured that he could hold it no longer and, drawing me to him, he embraced me closely. A second or two later he sighed a very contented sigh and at the same time I felt a warm wetness on my belly. He was pissing! And to my astonishment I loved it! I sighed, "oh yes, Luke, that is hot." He pissed on; it ran down my legs; my cock was so hard. "Turn round, Seth." I did so, with some regret, and soon I felt Luke's piss striking my back and running down between my buttocks. It was a very strange and exciting feeling. "Can you kneel, Seth?" I was able to do so and as my arse became easier of access Luke was able to piss directly onto my arse lips which, such is the way of those parts, opened in response. Luke chuckled. "I see your arse is keen to join our wet games, Seth, but it cannot do so today, I fear, for there is not room in this chamber. We have another, and mayhap another time we can visit it." All this time his cock continued to pour piss onto me, but at last his bladder was emptied, and the flow dried up. I sensed it was now my turn to piss onto him, a most unnatural thing, but nonetheless one I wished mightily to accomplish. "It will take a moment or two, Seth, but if you are patient you will be able to - trust me." We stood a few inches apart, facing but not touching. My cock began to soften. A minute passed, neither of us speaking or moving. Luke smiled, "I think it's ready, Seth. Hold it as you normally would and aim just above my cock." I did, and after another several seconds I felt a feeling which, though I had not consciously thought of it since I was a babe and learned to piss properly, thrilled me most strangely. I knew the feeling of spunk as it boiled and surged from my cock, and this feeling of piss doing the same was not dissimilar: less powerful, 'tis true, but much more thrilling that it had been on the millions of occasions I had pissed since I was tiny. Surely it cannot be that pissing on a 16-year-old's smooth - now wet - belly and cock was something which could alter the very feeling of piss as it flowed out of my cock? My eyes closed - I was in a small heaven - and I did not see Luke move. All of a sudden I felt something on my cock and I opened my eyes. Luke had taken my cock - still furiously pissing - into his mouth. Without my doing anything the flow stopped. "Don't stop," he said, "it's what I want." My cock obeyed and the flow resumed. I could feel the boy's mouth move as he swallowed - swallowed my piss! - and as I pissed on Luke's right hand went to his cock, wet with piss, but as hard now as it had been at any point. He had promised a third spunking, and evidently my pissing in his mouth was the stimulus needed for such a thing. I quickly decided that were my pissing to finish before he reached his goal then I would reward him - and myself - by kneeling before him so that he could send his juice into my mouth. I had not tasted his piss, but I knew that ere long I should have returned to Stoke to remedy that oversight. My cock finished its business and Luke's hand was still very swift in its work. He was moaning loudly. "Stand, Luke, and spunk in my mouth." He grinned while he groaned. I knelt on the pissy floor, my mouth inches away from his frantic wanking. "Near, near ... aaah!" and his cock was on my lower lip shooting one ... two ... three good jets into me. God! this boy was what I had missed so much. His warm spunk remained in my mouth only long enough for me to savour it, seeking every hint of the flavour of the boy ... and swallowed ... I stood and impulsively kissed him. Hours passed in my brain while our lips and tongues played, but in truth it cannot have been longer than five minutes. "We must turn on the spray, Seth, to clean us and the floor." we stood very close and he reached up to turn a tap. A jet of cold water drenched us, mercifully becoming warm only a few seconds later. There was some soap, and in two minutes we were both free from the smell of piss. Luke turned off the tap and the water drained away. "Now it is ready for the next pair," he said quietly, "did you hear the door being attempted?" I had not, such was my passion. Back in our room we dried ourselves on two towels which Luke had got from a cupboard. "Your two hours are nearly done, Seth, I'm sorry. The Master is strict, but the pissing room will be our secret." I kissed him again. "thank you, Luke. I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed time with you." "You do not need to, Seth, for your cock and your balls have told me. Besides, your eyes tell their own story." "As do yours, Luke." He smiled, "would that all encounters were as good as this has been, Seth. I hope we shall do this again." "Be very sure that we will, my boy." While talking we had dressed - I in my outdoor clothes and Luke in a robe. Perhaps he slept in this very room, and would have no need of clothes tonight. "I shall take you back down, Seth, and leave you there to meet your friend. The Master will speak to you before you leave. Come." Robert was waiting for me, so he was witness to the kiss Luke and I exchanged before the boy left us. "You seem to have made a friend there, Seth," said Robert. I smiled, but kept my peace. The Master appeared and sat between us. "Well, gentlemen, I hope you enjoyed yourselves. Robert, I bid you good-night." He turned to me. "Seth, I hope you were pleased with what our house has to offer?" I said that I was very pleased; indeed that I could not recall a more satisfying evening. "You plan to return then?" "Indeed I do, whenever my business brings me to Stoke." "In that case you shall have your own name to gain entry. Here in this envelope is your name. Robert here is Armageddon and you shall be Gilead. Say your name at the grill and the door will be opened. If the grill boy knows you and knows that it is safe to permit you to enter he will say 'Gomorrah'." He paused, wondering perhaps whether some explanation should be offered. "Very rarely we entertain persons in Society, and on those occasions we deny entry to others, however frequently they have been here. In these circumstances there will be no reply to your saying your name, and you must go away. Robert knows that this happens but once or twice a year, and the ways of gentlemen in Society are such that they do not advise us of their plans." I was fascinated - I wondered what 'Society' meant (for Amos, Arthur and I certainly did not move in such circles, nor did anyone we knew). We got up to go. "Good night, Seth, Robert. I hope to welcome you again soon." One minute later we were in a quiet alley; three minutes after that we were at the door of our inn. "It is only 11 o'clock, Seth, shall we enjoy a nightcap ere we turn in?" I was happy to have a drink and a quiet talk, but I had no wish to sleep with Robert. "I am spent, Robert, so I shall sleep alone tonight, but I would indeed welcome a talk, and ale will help." I need not record our conversation in detail, but I must set down a matter which Robert explained to me which was of immense significance later, and which would alter the family circumstances for ever. The premises we had visited had been discovered by Robert a year or more earlier. He had chanced upon a similar establishment in another city and as he was visiting that city regularly he fell into conversation with the Master on his third visit. He was told that there was a network of such places in many of the larger cities in England, and in smaller towns where travelling men like he might be expected to be clients. When we had that late-night conversation in Stoke in 1876 Robert believed there to be around twenty such establishments, but he had himself only visited three. I asked if there were a list of them, but apparently nothing was committed to paper. "It is all word of mouth, Seth, but the arrangement is that if you tell a Master that you will be visiting another establishment he will give you the address and instruct you to say 'Gilead of Stoke', and that will gain you entry." I put all this information to considerable use in the years that followed, as you shall learn. My path and Robert's never crossed again, and had that chance encounter in Stoke in March of 1876 not taken place most of the rest of this story would not have been written. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ [That sentence was written in a different ink, and Seth must have added it many years after 1876, for it was squeezed in in very small letters.] +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I visited Luke again, as I had promised to do, two weeks later, and on that occasion paid the Master £7. Room 5 contained facilities much more useful for the golden showers (which I now understood, and delighted in) offered by the list. Much as I enjoyed my hours with Luke I did not wish to neglect the chance of sampling the delights of the two other young boys employed there - the brothers John and Henry. It was not until the late summer of 1876 that my business with the Stoke lawyer brought me there again, and I resolved that on that occasion my stay would be for a week. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 50 as we learn what Seth got up to in a boy brothel in Stoke in September 1876. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================