Date: Thu, 2 Apr 2020 08:26:21 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 50 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 50 As I took the carriage to Stoke I took stock of my life. I was 25 years old, wealthy, in good health and loved by my Father and Arthur. There was no likelihood of my marrying, but I had no concern that there would be no Cunliffes after me - young men do not give thought to the distant future. Had I been the only son of a noble family, I thought, I might have been under some pressure from my Father to carry on the line, but the likelihood that my father would aspire to such a nonsensical position was of no account. When he died, I mused, I would have to give thought to how my wealth should be distributed - some charitable works, perhaps - after my death but, as I have said, these thoughts were mere fancies to be given serious consideration decades into the future. Stoke drew ever nearer, and the thought that Gilead would be bedding two brothers filled my mind. I had spent many happy hours wondering which of Henry and John I should spend time with first, but one day I felt one and the next day I felt the other. When I knocked in the curious way and said 'Gilead', and heard the welcome reply 'Gomorrah' I was no nearer a decision. A new young man took my hat and coat - had John left, or been promoted. I wondered. I had assumed that John attended to the cloakroom because he was the youngest person there, and thus detailed to the least rewarding tasks, but this new man was at least 20. I went in and sat on one of the sofas. There were few men in, so I hoped that neither Henry nor John would be occupied. Luke approached with my usual brandy and the list. "Thank you, Luke. You are well, I hope?" Luke smiled, "yes, Seth. Are we to have time together?" "Not tonight, Luke. I have enjoyed our sessions, but I am keen to sample other boys. I cannot choose between Henry and John. Which would you recommend?" Luke sat close beside me. "We are all friends, Seth - the boys, that is - and there is no jealousy among us. You will find time spent with either of them very pleasing if you wish to do with them what you did with me. John is but 14 of course, and if his tenderer years drive your cock to a greater hardness then he will not fail to satisfy you. He may be young, but he is very skilled. Everything Luke said made me hard in my britches - a discovery Luke made by the simple method of placing his hand on my cock. "You will not wish to waste time, Seth, shall I call for John?" "Nay, Luke, for I am to be in Stoke until Friday, and I shall certainly visit again ere I leave. I shall look forward to time with John if I postpone it, so tonight my desire is for time with Henry." Luke got up, grinning. "It is good that you are becoming a frequent visitor, Seth, for when the Master knows that gentlemen continue to come he can offer certain benefits denied to less regular patrons." Before I could ask him what these boons might be he was up and off. And there was Henry, 16, full of spunk and sin, his cock very evident in his hose. He sat down very close and my hand strayed to his cock. "Hello, Seth," he said softly, "I see you have not studied the list. It has changed a little since you last were here." I opened it and looked for the lads in whom I was interested. 'Henry', I read, '16, 8 inches entire, hairless. Can accommodate gentlemen of any size in his arse and of moderate size in his mouth. Will fuck. Plentiful spunker. Special activities offered.' I looked lustfully at the pictures of Henry's cock at rest and ready for action. I smiled. "Very nice, Henry, but it's what I have read of you already." I turned the page. 'John, 14, 7 inches entire, hairless. Can accommodate gentlemen of any size in his arse and of moderate size in his mouth. Will fuck. Plentiful spunker. Special activities offered.' Henry said quietly that John's listing had been made the same as his only a week earlier. "What is new?" I asked, for I could not remember exactly what services John had been offering before. "Specials," he said with a grin, "I've been teaching him. The Master thought it was time." "When we are resting after our first fuck, Henry, you will describe these 'specials', for it is likely that they will be of interest to me." "Indeed they will, Seth. We know that you are a man who likes golden showers, and that is one of them. Shall we be showering?" I nodded. "In that case, and this is a small example of the Master's offers, you and I will drink a quart of ale in the next little while. There is no charge." "And how much will this be, Henry?" " £7." He rose, the outline his cock splendidly visible. The Master will be with you, and I shall return with the ale. The Master sat beside me, but not very close. "Well, Seth, Henry has told me of your plans. Your interest is with our younger friends only?" "Yes. I shall be in Stoke until Friday and will visit again. I have had Luke twice - an excellent boy and a very fine companion in all manner of ways." The Master chuckled. "So I gather, Seth, for my boys - and my men - tell me all that passes. That way I learn what particular treats individual patrons enjoy, and I can better cater for their choices. You are a man who likes golden showers, and who likes young boys. Might it be that John is one you would wish to favour one time?" I smiled - did I begin to blush, betrayed by my red hair? - why in this place of all places should my desire to fuck a young boy be something to cause even a second of shame? "Yes, Master. Tonight Henry, then in a day or two a greater treat, I fancy." The Master chuckled again. "You have read the list, Seth, but I think you may be a gentleman who might like to be shown the other, more detailed, list? It is not shown casually." I said that I was honoured to be the recipient of such an offer. "When you are ready to leave I shall give you a copy. You must not let it off your person." I said that his trust would be honoured, and I placed £7 in his hand. "Room 5," he said. Henry came back with two pint tankards, and we sat an drank them off swiftly. A few minutes later Luke brought two more of the same. He set them down. "You will enjoy these twice, I think, Seth. Henry is as keen on what is to happen as I am," and he went off. His nether garments allowed no sign of his cock to appear. My left hand felt for Henry, hard and thrilling. His right hand lay on my left thigh, but made no attempt to do more: its failure to make progress was, in a curious way, erotic, for it meant that my mind was constantly thinking that an advance would soon be forthcoming. The advance duly came, and it did so in a manner I was not expecting. We were one of three couples on sofas by that time, and one of the couples rose to go to whatever perfumed boudoir the patron (a rather fat man of 50 or more) and his chosen companion (the blackfellow with the prodigious cock) had chosen. "That one has Jason every Monday," said Henry softly, "and although he pays for two hours Jason is rarely away for more than half that. Watch the other two." As soon as Jason and his victim (for could someone being pierced by a cock as large as Jason's be other than a victim?) left the patron on the other sofa across the room from ours began to kiss his partner very vigorously. "He does that, though not always with the same man. He's done it with me a few times, and he will spend in his hose while they kiss. It is very peculiar, for when they go off to their room he requires my colleague to take the spending in his hand and rub it all over his - the patron's - cock and balls, and the he - my colleague - has to wank himself all over the mess and rub it in. Then the patron lies back for many minutes to get his breath back before he turns over and says - he always says exactly the same - "fuck me, boy, set my arse on fire". It is odd, because he says 'boy' if it's me and 'boy' if it's Peter who is 40. Let me tell you a secret, Seth," and he moved his lips close to my ear, "the list says Peter is 40, but in truth he is 47." I did not know what reaction this tit-bit was expected to produce, but I felt it safe to draw in my breath somewhat theatrically and murmur 'goodness'. Henry seemed satisfied, and on the opposite sofa satisfaction was being achieved also. I marvelled that intimate kissing with another man could produce a spunking, and thought - not for the first time - that we are all made very different. "They'll go in a moment," said Henry, and that was when his hand began its advance towards my cock. When we were alone and the second flagon was almost done Henry turned to me. "Will we kiss, Seth? I do not like to kiss while that slobbering is going on, but I know that your kisses will be more refined." As soon as the last syllable was out of his mouth his lips, and a fraction of a second later, his tongue were at play with mine. I could taste the ale, as well as a new taste - the taste of 16-year-old Henry, 8 inches, hairless, entire. While we were engaged Luke silently brought a third pint for each of us. "Take these with you, Seth." Room 5 was now familiar to me, for I had enjoyed Luke there earlier in the year. It contained a fair-sized bath in which the sort of exercise in which I was about to engage could be more fully enjoyed than was possible standing up in the smaller shared cubicle. However all Luke and I had done there were things we had done standing up. Henry, I felt, would be showing me new things, following our earlier talk about 'specials'. In the ordinary way each of us would have divested the other of his clothing, but we both knew that the pressure of the beer we had drunk made our becoming fully naked a matter of some urgency. "The sooner we are out of our clothes, Seth, the sooner we can begin to play, and I am full and in great need of pissing." We laid our clothes aside and paused to look upon each other's body. Henry had a pretty face, but it had no special quality of the kind I find entrancing. That is not to say that I found it unattractive, but his prettiness was not out of the ordinary. My eyes travelled down, past a chest showing signs of manly development - though mercifully no hair - and a flat healthy belly. I should enjoy spunking on that, I thought. His cock, fully erect and certainly 8 inches, rose from a neatly-trimmed cluster of dense black hairs. His generous foreskin was partially withdrawn, allowing me to see the slit in his cock from which all the bounty it was his task to deliver would pass. I made no effort to resist the temptation to bend forward and lick that source of joy, causing Henry to shudder. "Oh fuck, Seth, don't or I shall piss too swiftly." I could see that his balls hung heavy in a hairless pouch. I like my boys to be hairless, but the contrast between hairless balls and a neat bush of short hairs above his cock was a most stimulating sight. Henry took my hand. "Step into the bath, Seth, for I can hold myself no longer." I stood, expecting Henry to aim his cock at my belly, but he had other ideas. "Kneel, Seth, and place your shoulders on the mat. It will ease the hardness of the bath." I did as I was told - I had decided that I should allow myself to be led along whatever paths this lusty boy chose - at least until my own desires required him to be directed. I felt him kneel behind me, and I felt, with mounting excitement, his cock seek entrance up my arse. (Naturally I had not entered the premises without preparing my arse for being fucked.) In he drove, hard and swift. The presence of so large a cock in my arse pressed strongly upon my bladder and a gush of piss flew from my cock. "Don't worry, Seth, I'm sure you have plenty more in there for me. Try to keep back as much as you can." I thought I would be in some considerable difficulty in keeping any piss within me once he started to fuck, but I said nothing. Henry did not move. His cock remained deep within me, its heat filling my arse with lustful delight. Then suddenly I felt a warmth in me, deep in me, a warmth I had not felt before. It was like the warmth of a spunking, but again not like. "You are ... yes, Henry, you are pissing!" Henry laughed. "Indeed I am, Seth, did you not expect that when I made you kneel and said I was full? Soon you will be full, my friend, but before then it will leak from you. Let it do so, for my bladder is much larger than the little space up your arse when my cock is in there." All the while he had been speaking his cock had been pissing: I knew not how hard, but I knew that the walls of my bowels were hot with a new wetness, and were being stretched most pleasingly. All of a sudden the volume became too great and I felt my arse lips being pushed aside by a wall of piss seeking to flow out. 'Flow' is not the right word, for it implies a degree of calm peacefulness, such as a wide river might show. What Henry's piss showed was more akin to a mountain torrent, leaping over crags and dashing itself far below on the rocks. Henry's mountain torrent gushed forth, make no mistake, but it gushed directly onto Henry's belly, and instead of tumbling over crags it ran swiftly down my legs and dashed itself on nothing more than my feet and knees. Still Henry pissed on, and each cupful of piss which leapt from his cock swiftly leapt out again and onto his body and mine. "I think you like this, Seth. It is on the list of specials - it is called pissfucking. I love pissfucking, and I shall tell you a secret." "Yes, Henry," I whispered, "tell me." He bent forward, still pissing, though with less vigour, "I love being pissfucked too." He was clasping me in the manner of a toad coupling, piss coating our bodies where they were in contact. His right hand felt for my cock. "My God, Seth, it's fully two inches bigger than it was when we climbed in." I knew this was nonsense, but I was happy that the boy had made such a remark. "And it will be in you soon, Henry, pissing for all it is worth and filling your pretty arse with my beer." As I spoke the words I knew them for sheer idiocy, but I knew also that at moments of sexual heat we are all wont to say foolish things. Henry's cock stopped pissing and he withdrew suddenly. A fountain of piss followed it out of my arse. "Ah!" he said, "nothing followed, I see." Did he think that I might have shitted? "It is always possible, Seth, for a great quantity of piss will bring down any shit that is ready. You have taken care, but not all gentlemen do." He paused. "I shall say more when we have the little conversation I promised you earlier. But now I want your fine cock up my arse, and all that beer to wash my bowels. So saying he knelt in my place, his head and shoulders on the mat - now very wet. "Kneel and put it in as though you were fucking me, but once it's all the way in just wait. You will not be able to piss immediately, for your head tells you that it is not the right place to piss. But your lust will soon tell your head another story, and your bladder will obey the new instruction." It all sounded very scientific, but Henry's instructions were clear enough. I placed my cock against his arse lips - they opened invitingly - and I was in - all the way in - and my wet pissy belly was tight against his flawless 16-year-old arse. And nothing happened. I felt round, as he had done, and found as many inches of hot steel as had lately been up my arse. "Wait, Seth," he whispered, "it will be soon." And he was right. I felt piss flow out of my cock and Henry's sighed. "Yes, Seth, I feel the heat of your piss deep inside me, keep on, don't stop ..." and more in a similar vein. Several seconds after my piss had started I sensed that my bladder had taken courage from its new exercise, and had resolved to discharge its duty with full vigour. A few seconds after it began to do so the inevitable consequence spurted from Henry's arse soaking my belly as high as my chest. "I pushed, Seth, couldn't you feel it?" I confess my mind was in such a whirl of delight and blissful sinfulness that had flames emerged from Henry's ears I should not have noticed. As it was the hot piss shooting from his arse was all I knew - that, and the piss still pouring out from me. This was indeed strange. An action I must have performed unthinkingly a dozen times a day throughout my life was now invested with some magical quality: was it that it was happening inside a boy's arse? Could ecstasy be engendered by so crude a means? Whatever might be the cause I felt a little chagrin as I sensed the performance coming to an end. I was about to withdraw when Henry stopped me. "I want you to fuck me, Seth, hard. Take your cock out and my arse will empty. Then ram your steel into me as hard as you can and fuck me fast. Please, Seth, I need it." I did as he bid me, and I have to record that once I was back in (my belly awash with my own piss) the fuck I gave him - the first of many fucks we were to share - lasted only a minute or so. In California I had learned that long leisurely fucks were possible, but I had never forgotten the special height of a fast and furious fuck for both parties. Seth made a great deal of noise as I pounded into him, and I made as much when the cannon fired. I was holding his cock as I spunked, but I was careful not to encourage his spending, for I determined that it would be in my mouth as soon as I had finished. My spunking ceased. "I want it in my mouth, Henry, wank it and let me taste your nectar." I lay on my back, heedless that I was lying in an inch or more of piss. Henry knelt over my chest and his right hand flew swiftly, bringing his cock to readiness. "Ah, yes, yes ... aaah!" and pulse after pulse of white bliss flew from his cock across my lower lip, across my tongue, into the greedy cavern of my mouth where the jets of his spunking grew and grew. Mercifully his cock ceased before my mouth overflowed, and I was able to roll the warm juice round my mouth, savouring every atom of its essence, before I swallowed. I smiled up at Henry. He smiled down at me. "We are well suited, are we not, Seth? Come and rest with me." To my surprise he led me directly to the bed - I had assumed that we would wash the piss off us before lying down, but it was not to be. He saw my surprise. "The bed is covered with a thick sheet which is washed. We may lie on it, and fuck on it, and there will be no stains. It is nice to lie down in a man's arms after pissfucking." "It will be nice for me to have a sweet boy in my arms, Henry. And it will be nice too to hear what you have to say about the Master's specials. For the one we have shared was special indeed." Henry chuckled. He lay, pissy and warm and sexy and delightful, in my arms. I stroked his hair. "Now tell me all, Henry," I whispered. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Seth's adventures were proving to be more detailed than I had expected, and it was hard sometimes to keep track of when the various events were taking place. At the moment - with Henry and Seth lying piss-soaked in each others' arms in Stoke - it was September 1876. Amos was still fit and well: he would not fall off his horse for another couple of years. Seth had written that he wanted a boy in his bed, but no steps towards that end had yet been taken. Would Henry - or John, whom we hadn't met properly yet - be that boy? It seemed likely that the network of boy-brothels to which this Robert had introduced Seth would eventually lead to the fated occasion when plain Mr Seth Cunliffe carried out the act which would lead to his becoming the Earl of Inchkeith, but evidently Seth had a great deal more to describe (and I greatly enjoyed reading about his exploits). Although I had read a great deal I felt I had to press on. Cambridge, and Edward and Gordon, lay not too many weeks away. I resolved to attempt to reach Seth's turning point before I went up to Fisher. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "Many gentlemen have some very strange desires, Seth," began Henry. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 51 as Henry lifts the veil on some arcane practices. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================