Roy Gets Lucky

 

A Boy/man fantasy by Ivor Sukwell

 

Make no mistake, what follows is pure fantasy: a great civilisation like England could never degenerate to the point where there were millions of poor, destitute out of work hopeless and helpless people, and almost countless, and certainly uncounted, numbers of cold, starving minors existing on the streets. Could it?

And even if it did, what would be the chances of one of those freezing and starving minors finding a man willing to take him in?

Any political inferences you may think you find in this tale are completely intentional; this tale is written simply to entertain and for no other purpose.

 

Chumly contemplated the creature he'd discovered.

He had, of course, only discovered it in one sense of that word as it was of a well-known species, so he had not discovered it in a scientific manner, but he had discovered it in the sense of him having no previous knowledge of the existence of this particular representative of that species.

Chumly, proper name Anthony George Henry Arthur Chomondley, was a fairly typical product of centuries of the selective, but intensive, interbreeding of the aristocratic class in that, at thirty-two, he presented the world with a trim, slender figure, a handsomely refined face and had a high level of intelligence and no sense whatsoever.

He was the spare to the spare of the heir to his father's title and was thus obliged to make his own way in the world, though, naturally, this did not involve him in the necessity of obtaining money by having to work for it, his income assured by the family's offshore investment of his portion of their fortune, a fortune that had for centuries been considerable, but had also been greatly increased two hundred years previously by astute investment in the slave trade.

He dedicated his life to his hobby, as many of his class had always done, and in Chumly's case that hobby was a determination to prove beyond doubt that, as the megalithic monument of Stonehenge was, to all intents and purposes, contemporaneous with the erection of Egypt's pyramids, and as one had been constructed by a people who wore bear skins and spoke in grunts and the other by a sophisticated race who understood mathematics and had a proper language, it was self-evident, if as yet unproven, that the latter must have been involved in the engineering accomplishments of the former.

Chumly was, if not quite certifiably so, mad.

Now he found himself confronted by what was undeniably a boy, cowering in a corner of his kitchen, and how such a creature should have found its way to his reasonably remote cottage, effected an entry and insinuated itself into a corner of his kitchen, Chumly had no idea whatsoever.

Naturally, having determined to his satisfaction that it was indeed a boy, and one that gave the appearance of being some fourteen or so years of age, Chumly uttered the time-honoured phrase beloved by adults when confronted with an unexpected boy on their premises.

"I say," he said, "Shouldn't you be in school?"

That the appearance of the boy, dressed – if `dressed' was the appropriate word – as he was in what may only be termed rags, should have been indication sufficient to inform Chumly that the boy was not an escapee from a school, did not occur to him.

The boy's face registered surprise at that remark, it clearly being not the remark he had anticipated, though he continued to cower in the corner.

"Not gonna get the law on me, is yer?" the boy whimpered in reply, though, strictly speaking it was not a reply as it answered a question with a question.

"That is not my immediate intention," Chumly did actually make a proper reply, "But I do wonder why you are in my kitchen and not in school."

"Don't go to skool, do I," the boy said, and added, by way of explanation, "Has ter pay ter go ter skool, don't yer."

Chumly, it must be admitted, did not keep abreast of political and social matters, and even if he had, the concept of paying for education would not have struck him as strange, his own schooling having been in a fee-paying establishment even though, at that time, the State had spent reckless fortunes on providing education free of charge.

"I suppose you do," Chumly agreed, "But that does not explain why I should find you in my kitchen."

"Didn't break in or nuffin'," the boy hastened to whine, "The door was open, like, an' it were cold outside."

"It usually is in January," Chumly nodded, "Though if the skies are clear you can get a wonderful view of the stars."

"Yer," the boy said, beginning to wonder about the sanity of the man whose cottage he had illicitly entered.

"Though," Chumly continued, "I must express some doubt that the door was actually open as such. I can be somewhat absent minded, but I'm sure I would have remembered to shut that door on a January evening."

"Yer," the boy repeated, "Weren't like swinging open or nuffin'. Just it weren't locked, like."

"Oh, no," Chumly confirmed, "It wouldn't have been locked. I believe there may be a key for it somewhere, but where that somewhere is, I have no idea."

"So I never akchully broke in or nuffin' just sorta walked in like. An' I ain't broken nuffin' or nicked nuffin' so yer can't tell the Law I did."

"I have no intention of holding any converse with the Law," Chumly shrugged.

"Wot yer gonna do abaht me, then?" the boy asked when he had mentally translated Chumly's words.

"Request that you undergo some cleansing operations, preferably in a bath. Your aroma is one I find is not welcome in a kitchen."

Again it took the boy a few moments to translate, and when he had done that, he asked, with considerable surprise,

"Yer ain't gettin' the Law, an' yer ain't turfin' me out? Wot is yer gonna do wiv me then?"

"I have not the faintest idea," Chumly said, which, as it happened was completely true, "But I must insist that you immerse yourself in water and with the aid of soap attempt to discover if there is skin beneath the grime, if you intend to continue this discussion."

Convinced now that the man who owned the cottage was of very definitely questionable sanity, but appeared to be one of the harmless insane, and as he was even himself aware of his smell, he allowed the location of the bathroom to be explained to him and duly entered that and did as he had been requested.

Naturally, being fourteen and naked in the bath, he began to have some fourteen-year-old boy thoughts on why the nutter down below wasn't going to shop him to the Law and wanted him clean and nice-smelling, and as the nutter weren't old and fat and were actually quite decent looking, he reckoned he could go along with that in exchange for some feeding, and, if he played his cards right, probably a bed for a night or two as well.

Chumly had no such similar thoughts; even during adolescence his rather muddled, if bright, aristocratic mind had never strayed to matters of sex, sex of any nature or description. He had, naturally, from time to time indulged in masturbation, though without ever understanding why he did so, and had he been questioned by a psychologist, he would have answered that it was probably that his erect cock looked something like a dolmen, and he had wondered, from time to time, if real dolmens also had stuff spurt from their tips, and, if they did, was that an occurrence they had in common with pyramids?

Skin now revealed, the boy inspected himself to consider if he had sufficient cards to play. He was, of course, distinctly skinny being as he was also undernourished, but all in all he thought he weren't too bad, though being undernourished and a bit under-developed physically along with that, he looked a bit younger than his fourteen years, apart from his cock that was a reasonable almost five inches when it were up, and had quite a decent bush above it now, though, course, if the nutter liked `em younger, he'd lose the bush and no questions asked.

By nature and inclination, the boy was not a cock-giver, but he had no stupid moral objections about giving cock if there was an advantage to be found from that, and at the moment he was in bad need of some advantage, so if the nutter wanted cock then he could have cock. The boy hadn't given cock as yet- there hadn't been any need to – but now, for some food and perhaps a bed, maybe his cock needed to be put to some use.

`Might as well make it fuckin' obvious,' he thought, and dismissed any idea of putting his rags back on his body. They were filthy dirty and smelly as well, so if the nutter wanted him clean then they'd be a definite disadvantage.

Course, the nutter hadn't mentioned cock, but why else would he not get the Law and keep him around instead? He must be after it, the boy decided, just didn't want to make it too obvious, so appearing naked wouldn't be the best option, but just a towel wrapped round his bits should do it. Wouldn't be saying outright `me cock's yours' but be bleeding obvious a little pull at the towel would have him showing off what he'd got.

"Me cloves is smelly an' dirty," he said on reappearing in the kitchen, "So I just wrapped this towel round meself."

The bleedin' nutter never even looked at him! Praps, he thought, I shooda left the fuckin' towel orf an' all!

"Wot yer wanna do wiv me?" he asked to hurry things along.

"Do you know how to boil a kettle?" Chumly asked, "Perhaps make tea?"

"Yer," the bemused boy replied.

"And toast, perhaps? Could you possibly construct some toast and tea for breakfast? It would be most helpful if you could."

`Wot the fuck?' the boy thought, `I'm bollock naked `part from a bleedin' towel round me bits and he's tellin' me to make breakfast?'

"Yer, I can do that," he said, "Where d'yoo keep yer bread?"

"Now wot?" he asked when toast and tea had been consumed, and he had helped himself to a complete loaf of toast, just in case.

"Clear up, I suppose," Chumly said, "Would be helpful if you had time to do that before you've got to be off home."

"Orf `ome?" the incredulity in the boy's voice was unmistakable, "Ain't got no bleedin' `ome, `as I? Wouldn't 'ave been kippin' on yer bleedin' kitchen floor if I `ad a 'ome, would I?"

"Oh, I say! Oh, most dreadfully sorry," a genuinely remorseful Chumly said, "What do you plan on doing with yourself?"

This was all getting a bit too much for the boy, and exasperation momentarily  took control.

"Fink it's more like wot does you plan on doin' wiv me," he said, making, he thought, things as obvious as they could be with him wearing only a towel.

"Oh, no plans at all," Chumly said truthfully, "Though I suppose if you've nowhere else to go, you can hang around and make yourself useful."

`At fuckin' last!' the boy thought and gave what he felt to be a suitably suggestive grin, "Wot use does yer want me ter be?"

"How should I know?" Chumly said, "What are you any good at?"

"Dunno," the boy fluttered his eyelashes, "Ain't never done nothin' yet, but I fink I'm up fer pretty much everythin'. Like if I gets a bed an' some food, like."

"Oh," a non-comprehending Chumly said abstractedly, "The bed may be a problem as there's only the one, but no problem with food, I don't think."

`Ow many beds does he fink we need?' the confused boy thought, but food was on offer, and so he made his own offer yet again.

"Awlright," he said, "So wot yer like doin'?"

"Like doing?" Chumly mused, "Actually, I'm a pretty single-minded sort of chap, you know. Only interest is in obtaining irrefutable evidence that the early Dynasty Egyptians must have been involved with the construction of megalithic monuments in Britain. They had the mathematical skills, as you probably know, and it's very highly doubtful that Neolithic man here had such skills, yet their monuments were constructed with amazing mathematical accuracy. We know the Egyptians used bronze, and, of course, you need tin to make bronze and the best source of tin that we know of in the ancient world was Cornwall, so it's only a matter of finding the proof that Egyptian traders exchanged mathematics for tin."

"Yer, right. Amazing," the boy said sarcastically, having not understood a single word, "Wot I meant was wot d'yer like doin' wiv boys?"

"Doing with boys?" an uncomprehending Chumly repeated, "I must confess I've never included the participation of boys in my researches. Do you think I should have done?"

"Look, mate," an approaching desperate boy said as plainly as he could, "You finds me in yer kitchen, but yer don't call the Law, sends us up ter have a barf an' says I can stay if I make meself useful. Now here I is, in nuffin' but a bleedin' towel, and tellin' yer that yer can do anyfin' yer wants wiv me long as I gets a place ter kip and some munchies, an' all yer does is warble on about bleedin' ancient Egyptians! Now, does yer want me cock or don't yer?"

"Your cock?" a still uncomprehending Chumly said.

"Course, yer can `ave me mouth an' arse an' all. Yer can do anyfin' yer wants `cept shit and piss on me. Cane me fuckin' arse if it turns yer on."

"Oh, I say! Oh dear! Oh, Ramases!" a bewildered Chumly spluttered, "I'm afraid I have no knowledge of that sort of thing at all! I really wouldn't know where to start!"

"Yer mean yer ain't never done nuffin' wiv a boy?" an astounded boy asked, "Like not even when yer was a boy?"

Chumly shook his head in the negative.

A suspicion began to form in the boy's mind, and he sought clarification.

"Wot abaht wiv wimin?" he enquired and received another negative head shake.

"Bugger me!" the boy said, a wicked smile forming on his face, "Yer an' me both, mate," he grinned, "I ain't not done nuffin' yet eever. Wot say us learns togevver?"

"Is that possible?" an unbelievably innocent Chumly asked.

"Yer can bet yer balls on it," the boy sniggered, "Yer wanna get this towel orf me or yer wants us ter just drop it?"

"Oh, er, well," Chumly stuttered, "Perhaps, as it is one of my towels, it would be appropriate if I removed it from you."

"Go fer it," the boy encouraged; if the nutter ain't not never done no sex at all then he weren't gonna be wantin' no weird stuff, an' havin' his cock wanked fer him weren't gonna be no problem, speshully if it were fer munchies an' stuff.

It never occurred to the boy that he was almost certainly able to retain the towel and his complete virginity and still get fed, his cock and food now indivisibly connected in his adolescent mind.

Tentatively, Chumly reached a hand for the towel, and, meeting with no resistance, gave it a tug, thus revealing the boy beneath.

`Oh, I say!" Chumly breathed as his eyes took in their first sight of a naked teenage boy, and without being told to, those eyes gravitated specifically to the boy's genital area.

Naturally, Chumly was unaware if the boy was well or poorly equipped for his age, but he found he did rather like what he was looking at.

"Get yer `and round it," the boy insisted, "Get it up `ard like then yer can sees it proper."

The nutter was hooked, no two ways about it. He'd been expecting he'd have to bend over to tempt the bloke into hanging onto him for a bit, never imagined that just his cock would do the trick. Weren't all that bad having his cock felt, either. In fact he reckoned it was pretty good, better than playing with it himself, that was for sure.

"Wot you reckon, any good?" he asked as his cock rose to its full almost five skinny inches in Chumly's hand.

"Oh, I say," Chumly breathed appreciatively, a definite smile appearing on his face, "It does feel rather nice."

"Get yer `and orf for a mo," the boy said, "Get a proper butcher's at it now yer got it `ard."

Chumly did, though with some degree of reluctance because the hard, warm piece of boy he was holding did feel very nice.

"S'awlright," the boy encouraged the reluctant aristocrat, "Yer can feel it agin, don't worry. Just fort yer might fancy a proper look, like."

Chumly released the boy's appendage, which then stood, of its own accord, out and up from the boy's skinny frame, and Chumly was immediately struck by the undeniable similarity between a boy's hard cock and a dolmen, the main difference being that the boy's cock was rather more appealing.

The look of appreciation was plain on Chumly's face, and the boy made his cock jerk a few times in order to enhance its appeal. Time, he thought, to see if he could land himself a nutter who would provide him with at least a few days of warmth and comfort in exchange for his cock.

"Like it?" he asked.

"Very much," Chumly confirmed, and wanted to ask if he could hold it again.

"Toss it if yer wants," the boy offered.

"Toss it?" Chumly said.

"Yer, yer knows, wank it, rub it up or wot ever yer calls it."

Chumly didn't know what he would call it as he didn't know what he was supposed to do.

"Gawd," the boy muttered not quite to himself, "Don'tcher even wank?"

In fact, Chumly did not wank, had rarely wanked even as a boy, and even those efforts had been uncomprehending masturbatory efforts, rapidly and robotically performed and not real and proper boy wanks.

The incongruity of the situation could not escape the boy, though he didn't think of it as an incongruous situation, just as being `bleedin' weird'. He'd quite naturally assumed that as the nutter wasn't going to shop him to the law, he would, to use current terms and vocabulary, intend to molest and abuse him instead. Now it looked like he was going to have to teach the nutter how to go about molestation and abuse.

Fortunately, though the boy had so far escaped molestation and abuse, he did have fairly good understanding of what was involved, and set about instructing Chumly on what he had to do.

He moved closer to Chumly, standing slightly to one side.

"Yer puts yer left `and round me waist," he said, "Though, course yer can put it on me bum if yer wants," but found that hint was ignored as Chumly settled nervously for waist. "Nah, yer gets yer uvver `and back on me cock," an action Chumly performed with more alacrity, "An' nah yer moves yer `and up and dahn, like."

This Chumly did, but with an unbelievable lack of expertise, and, after a couple of initial moves, with over-much enthusiasm.

"Whoa," the boy exclaimed, "Yer ain't supposed ter try ter pull the bleedin' thing orf! An' don't do it too `ard, like, cos me skin's a bit tight an' it don't peel too easy."

The skin didn't feel at all tight to Chumly; it had a very pleasant soft velvety feel to it and seemed to slide up and down the hardness beneath it with remarkable ease despite the boy's claim that it didn't. He did, however, do as he had been instructed, and treated it more gently, and that seemed to produce remarkable results.

As he wasn't gripping it so fiercely, he found he could actually feel it better, his up and down movements very pleasurable to perform, and the boy appeared to appreciate them as well, a smile now on his face.

`Oh, fuck!' the boy was thinking, `I bleedin' like this!' The pleasure of having his cock seen to didn't stop him from thinking clearly, and getting wanked off was only a device to achieve his aim.

"S'nuff for a mo," he said, putting a hand of his own over the one of Chumly's that was working on his cock, "Don't wanna spunk too quick. Feels bleedin' nice," he smiled encouragingly, "Okay fer you?"

"Very much so," Chumly confirmed, "Extremely pleasant."

"Don't wanna kick me aht wen yer done me then?" the boy laid his trap.

"No intention of kicking you out, as you put it," Chumly asserted firmly.

"Wants ter do me more, does yer?"

"If by `doing you', you mean this," Chumly moved his restrained hand again, "Then I most certainly do."

"Neat," the boy grinned, "Yer lets me `ang arahnd an' yer can `ave me cock as much as yer wants."

"Oh, you may certainly hang around," Chumly smiled, completely hooked now. "May I continue?"

"Wot abahrt," the boy suggested, "Yer does me proper like, in bed sorta fing?"

"Oh," Chumly was instantly disappointed, "If it's alright with you, I'd rather do it now, not have to wait until tonight."

"Nah, yer daft bugger," the boy grinned widely, "Yer don't `ave ter wait till ternite. Yer can take me ter bed now, yer silly sod."

"Oh," Chumly said with surprise, "Is that amenable to you?"

`Amenable' was an unknown word to the boy, so he ignored the question and continued with his plan.

"I can do it fer yer an' all if we does," he tempted.

"Oh! Oh I say!" Chumly was amazed, "Is that usual? I mean, I wouldn't want you to do something you don't want to," he explained.

"Look," the boy stated the deal he was offering, "Yer gets us in bed and we does it fer each other, an' yer keeps us fer a coupla weeks or so, till yer gets fed up wiv me cock, like, an' like wot I said before, yer can do wot yer wants wiv me as much as yer likes, like."

The boy thought he'd blown it then, as Chumly never said anything, just stood there, holding cock and looking thoughtful

Chumly didn't have a grain of normal sense in his head, but he was far from stupid, and more than twenty years of searching for hidden, or non-existent, clues did enable him to join dots together.

"Is that why I found you in my kitchen?" he eventually asked.

The boy's first instinct was the correct one – he told the truth.

"Nah," he sighed, "I got in cos I were bleedin' freezing. The door were unlocked, like I said, but, yer, I'da broke in if it weren't, an' probly stole sum food if yer ain't come dahn wen yer did."

"Fortunate for me I found you," Chumly said,

"Woodn't `ave nicked much," the boy explained, "Probly not as much as wot I had fer breakfast."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of that," Chumly wanted to move his hand up and down again on the warm, velvet skin of the boy's cock, but didn't because the boy had told him not to. "You said you don't have a home," Chumly spotted another dot and looked for somewhere to connect it with, "Why not?" He was genuinely puzzled, surely everybody had a home?

The boy stared at Chumly as though he'd just dropped in from Mars.

"Ain't yer got no idea wot it's like now? Fink there's more livin' on the streets than in `ouses, ain't there."

"Really?" a genuinely surprised Chumly said, "I'd no idea. I don't go out very much, you see."

Chumly's hand was still connected to the boy's cock, and the boy's hand on his as Chumly pondered on the social situation and looked for more dots to join.

"The bit I don't understand," Chumly said thoughtfully, "Is why you think it's necessary to make your offer. Not," he added hastily, "That I don't appreciate it."

"Look," the boy attempted to explain, "Bloke catches a boy in `is `ouse, but instead ov callin' the law he tells the kid to go an' `ave a barf. Course the kid finks the bloke is after `is cock, don't he, an' lettin' `im `ave a bit ov cock's way better than gettin' turned inter the law, ain't it. Then, well, I dunno cos I ain't done nuffin' like this before, but yer seemed ter like me cock, an' I fort if I got yer ter like it a bit more yer might 'ang onter me fer a bit so's yer could `ave more ov it."

"Oh, I do like your cock," Chumly confirmed, "And not just because it bears a strong resemblance to a miniature dolmen, and I do confess that being allowed to have it again would be most gratifying." The dots began to connect of their own accord.

"Yer lets us stay an' yer can get at me cock all day and night if yer wants," and, feeling he had regained the advantage, he ventured an idea of his own. "Course, like I said, I ain't done nuffin' like this before. But I does know the way it goes, an' if yer takes us ter bed an' does stuff, like, then wot yer's doin' is sorta sayin' yer wants us as yer boy, like."

It was a big gamble, but the boy thought the nutter was enough of a nutter to swallow that.

He was right.            

"That appears to be reasonable," Chumly nodded, "So now we go to bed together, is that right?"

"If yer's gonna keep me."

"Will if yer cock's on offer," Chumly giggled at his attempt to speak boy.

"An' the rest," the boy grinned.

 

Chumly was both reluctant and embarrassed with the necessity of removing his clothing in order to `do stuff' in bed with the boy, and the boy was not particularly thrilled with what was eventually revealed. Chumly, though not overly hirsute, was far from being hairless, and the boy was not by nature and inclination, sexually attracted to men, hairy or otherwise. If he had any choice in the matter he would have presented his teenage body for molestation by a woman with big tits and a gaping wet fanny, that being his standard fall-back masturbation fantasy, but he didn't have a choice and he had a man of thirty odd with an excess of pubic hair and seriously hairy legs.

Chumly, on the other side of the bed, had a fourteen-year-old boy with modest pubes and almost no hair at all on his legs, and found that to be surprisingly pleasing.

"Me name's Roy," the boy announced, "Spose now I'm yer boy yer shood know me name, like."

"My boy Roy," Chumly smiled, "A little rhyme. So pleased to meet you, Roy. Is it in order to, er."

"Course yer can," Roy made himself grin, "I'm yer boy so me cock's yers when yer wants it."

Chumly wanted it.

`Akchully, it ain't that bad,' Roy thought as his cock was once again taken in hand, `Be awlright if he weren't so bleedin' hairy.'

"Wot yer want me ter call yer," Roy asked, "Like, Sir' or `Master' or sumfin?"

"Oh, good heavens, no," Chumly protested, "I'm only the third son so I don't have any title by right. I suppose I do merit an `Hon' in front of my name in formal communications, but just call me Chumly."

"Chumly?"

"Why not? It is my name, after all."

"Bleedin' funny name."

"Is it? Oh, well, doesn't really matter, does it? This," he began to gently wank Roy's cock, "Is what matters."

"Yer, spose it is," Roy conceded, after all, his cock was going to be providing him with food, warmth and shelter, and he had a little mental snigger at the thought that was quite an achievement for something that was just under five skinny inches.

`Shame it ain't a bird, though,' Roy thought as he was being wanked, `But yer can't `ave evryfin'.' He put his hands behind his head, deliberately making his entire skinny body available for abuse and molestation, completely forgetting that the nutter wanking him hadn't the faintest idea of how to molest and abuse a boy and was administering his first ever wank to one.

Chumly was delighted; the skin on the boy's cock – the boy called it that and Chumly happily added that word to his vocabulary – moved up and down the very hard hardness beneath it in a really pleasing way, and felt so soft and silky in his hand as he manipulated it, and obviously it was not unpleasant for the boy who made little moans and sighs while it was happening.

He was careful not to do it too firmly as the boy had said that skin was tight and didn't peel easily. It didn't feel at all tight to Chumly, and he had no idea why it should be peeled as it felt absolutely perfect as it was, and he had no desire at all to peel it.

He did try various ways of holding it, though; full hand grip, finger tips only, near the top and near the bottom, although he was careful about the latter in case he accidentally pulled on some of the hairs growing there.

Roy was starting to discover he rather liked being wanked, it was a distinct improvement on wanking himself, and even though it was a nutter and not a bird wanking him he knew he was going to get to like it quite a lot, and as his orgasm neared he began to contemplate some additional methods by which he could be pleasurably abused.

The nutter seemed to make a big thing of not getting near his pubes, and his bath-time thought of smoothness re-occurred. `Praps,' he thought, `The nutter will toss me even better if I lorst me pubes,' it by now being self-evident the nutter wasn't in for a once-only wanking of him.

"Fascinating," Chumly breathed as the boy's spunk spurted, bringing with it as it did vague stirrings of early adolescent memories in Chumly's mind, memories of dolmens and pyramids doing a similar thing. "Cock," he mused, "Is so very similar, in a miniature way, of course, to dolmens. Well, yours is anyway, or was when it was hard. Not so much now, of course, now it's going soft."

"Yer reckons?" Roy asked, he not having a clue what a dolmen was.

"Oh, yes," Chumly enthused, "Remarkably similar. Come on," Chumly extricated himself from his bed, "I'll show you what I mean."

Obediently Roy followed him, spunk globs making their way down his flat stomach to nestle in his pubes, and the strands of his final oozings dribbling from his foreskin.

He stared, uncomprehending at first, at the pictures the nutter showed him. There were sorta squiggles an' stuff under the picture but he never knew what they was cos, course, he couldn't read, could he, but he could see the pictures clear enough and they was just of stones sticking up out the ground. Tall, big stones, sorta like stone poles, sorta thing, and as he peered at them a smile started forming on his face.

It took a bit of imagining, like, but if yer fort abaht it, like, yer could fink of them stones as being cocks. Course, they never `ad no balls or nuffin', but the more yer looked at them the more like cocks they seemed to become.

Once Roy had made that connection, his adolescent boy mind did the rest; some were planted on bare ground or with just low grass around them, others had bushes and scrub growing at the base.

"Sees wot yer means," he grinned, "Bleedin' stone cocks. Some ov `em got pubes an' all," he sniggered, pointing to appropriate photographs to make sure the nutter understood. "Fink they look better wivout the pubes, though."

"Pubes? Oh, I see what you mean," Chumly also grinned, feeling, despite his thirty-two years, a tiny bit adolescently naughty. "Yes, I believe you're right; they are much better without the growth around them."

"Wot abaht me?" Roy asked, trying his very best to sound utterly innocent, "Yer fink me cock'd look better wivaht hairs?"

Naturally Chumly gave the boy's genitals a good long look, his eyes flicking from cock to photographs as he tried to make a decision.

"You know," Chumly said at last, "I do believe it would. Still, nothing we can do about it, I mean, they've grown there, haven't they."

"Spose," Roy stuck to his task, "Them bushes cood be got away from them stone cocks, coodn't they?"

"Oh, yes," Chumly walked blithely into the set trap, "In fact they often are."

"An' me `airs cood be shaved orf, coodn't they?"

"Oh. Oh, yes. Yes I suppose they could be," Chumly considered the possibility. "But, well, I mean, they're your hairs, aren't they, and a chap just couldn't ask you to get rid of them, could he."

"Nah," Roy agreed as he began to learn how to play the nutter, "But I fink if a bloke wot `ad a boy, like wot you `as me, an' the bloke fort the boy'd look better if he ain't got no pubes rahnd is cock, an' praps he finks the boy's cock be better ter play wiv if it ain't got no `airs, like, then I finks if the boy knew that were wot the bloke fort, then the kid'd be okay wiv shavin' `em orf."

"You think so?" Chumly puzzled about it. "I do believe you would look nicer, and I am a bit worried about pulling them and hurting you when I do things to your cock."

"Settled then, ain't it," Roy pronounced, "Me pubes gets shaved orf." He wondered if now was the time to mention the nutter's hairy groin and legs, but decided to get smooth first and see how the nutter felt about that.

Chumly provided the necessary equipment and Roy took himself to the bathroom and wished his pubes farewell as they gurgled down the plughole. He didn't stop there but, with very great care for obvious reason, cleaned up his balls as well and followed that by doing his crack as best he could.

Being only fourteen, there was nothing but some fuzz on his thighs, but now he'd started he decided he might just as well finish, and he presented to Chumly a perfectly smooth boy. Smooth from knee to eye.

"Oh, I say!" a delighted Chumly enthused when smooth boy presented himself, "I say! I do like that!"

In fact, Chumly liked it so much he immediately took the boy back to bed and wanked him off again.

"You know," he said between strokes on the boy's cock, "It looks so much better, and feels nicer as well," he added as his thumb brushed around where earlier there had been hairs.

"Yer," Roy agreed cos it did feel better sumhow not havin' no `airs on `im, much more sorta sexy like, and he enjoyed his second wank even more than he had enjoyed the first.

Course, he knew he had to get wanked when the nutter never turned him in, but he hadn't expected to actually enjoy being wanked by a bloke, and now, here he was, shaved all smooth and being tossed and made to spunk and trying to work out how he could get the nutter to do more than just wank him.

And he'd have to get himself up for doing the nutter as well, and that weren't going to be all that easy, not with him having so much hair round his cock and on his legs, but how he was going to get the bloke to get some of it off he didn't know.

Chumly watched with some awe as spunk spurted again from the boy's cock, and this time those vague memories became less vague, and with some surprising ease, Chumly connected up a few dots.

The boy was really quite delightful to look at; in truth Chumly realised he had quite liked looking before, but now the boy was all smooth and hairless he really liked what he was looking at.

He considered his own naked body and, well, there was just no favourable comparison. He was fully grown for a start and had lots of hair where now the boy had none. He wasn't fat, though. He'd always been slender, not as skinny as the boy, obviously, because Chumly had never had to starve, but, with a little effort he could manage to think of himself as just a larger version of the boy. If he got rid of all the hairs perhaps he'd look even more like a boy, and that was where his memory blossomed.

The boy who'd dreamed of erupting dolmens and pyramids had been a boy with no hairs on his legs, and, as far as he could remember, very few, if any, round his cock. Might it be, if he disposed of what he was now thinking of as horrid hairs, he could, in some way or other, be like a boy again and his cock-dolmen spurt like the boy's did?

"This is probably very silly of me," he began tentatively as he admired the freshly spunked boy, little white globs on his stomach and where he was now smooth but didn't used to be and some thin streamers leaking from the foreskin of his now softening cock, "But do you think I'd look more like a boy if I didn't have hairs on me?"

Roy jerked fully awake from his post-orgasmic trance; was the nutter asking if he should shave?

"Bleedin' `ell," the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, "Be bleedin' magic!" Thinking he needed to provide a reason for his sudden burst of enthusiasm, had quickly added, "Woodn't be able ter keep me `ands orf yer cock if yer were smoove."

"You wouldn't?" an astonished Chumly gasped.

"Use me bleedin' marf an' all if yer wanted."

"Your mouth?"

"Yer, course."

"Whatever for?"

"Fer gobblin' yer orf, course."

"Gobbling me off?"

"Bleedin' `ell, yer really don't know nuffin' does yer?" the boy sighed, "Yer don't just wank cocks, yer sucks them an' all."

"Whatever for?" a bemused Chumly enquired.

"Cos it's sposed ter be a zillion times better than getting' wanked," the boy explained. "Course, I dunno if it is cos I ain't never `ad it done, like, but evryone says it is."

"So I'm supposed to do that to your cock, am I?" Chumly sought clarification.

"Well, ain't sayin' yer gotta, but ain't stoppin' yer if yer does."

"I see."

Chumly didn't really see, but he took the boy's word for it, after all he'd been right about things so far, so perhaps he would be right again. Meanwhile he consulted his computer, did a Google search for `removal of pubic hair' and ordered some expensive equipment from Amazon that was claimed to not only remove unwanted hair but also greatly inhibit any re-growth.

A few well-wanked-boy days later both boy and Chumly were smooth as new born babes and the next phase of Chumly's education into the proper molestation of boys began.

To be fair, that molestation had made some tentative moves before Chumly became smooth. Roy remained a passive recipient of the abuse he was finding increasingly enjoyable, always putting his hands behind his head in order to open up his entire front for whatever molestation may occur, even though that molestation never strayed above his genital area.

He could not deny, and did not try to, that the nutter was a very good wanker of boys, well of him anyway, and when Chumly gave way to the temptation to be just a little adventurous, Roy's enjoyment of being abused went up a notch or two. Once Chumly had discovered his balls and began to play with those while he wanked cock, Roy found that he was thinking less and less of big tits and wet fanny while he was being done.

Since he believed it was necessary for him to co-operate fully in his abuse and molestation in order to preserve his new-found life of luxury, he parted his thighs when Chumly played with his balls to allow better access, and it wasn't long before Chumly's fingers began to explore the crevice between balls and thigh, and even ventured down to inner thigh itself, which, as Roy was now utterly hairless and there was nothing to diminish the sensitivity of his smooth skin, and had he known the word, he would have described it as `bleedin' erotic', but not knowing the word `erotic', Roy just thought of it as `bloody nice'.

`Bleedin' odd,' he thought as he was fondled yet again, "Fort I were only lettin' it `appen for a coulpa days' food an' stuff, so why's I startin' ter bleedin' like it?'

Doing it had been part of his game plan, liking doing it had never entered into his calculations.

Whatever those calculations were, they were blown to smithereens when Chumly smoothed himself out completely.

Chumly didn't have big tits, he didn't have a wet fanny, but he did have a more than half-decent cock and not a hair on him, and Roy, despite all his previous tit and fanny longings, wanted a go at that cock!

"Nice one," he grinned at naked and smooth Chumly, who was gratified by the compliment.

"You think so?" he asked, "Do I appear a little more like a boy?"

"Dunno," a confused Roy answered, "Why? Does yer wanna be?"

"Well," Chumly began, "This will undoubtedly sound very peculiar to you, but I cannot help but be of the opinion that you appear to quite enjoy being wanked – `wanked' was another word Chumly had added to his vocabulary – and I am bound to admit that I do rather enjoy doing that to you, and that, I suppose, is because you are a boy. You see," Chumly continued to confuse the boy, "I have come to the conclusion that I was never really a boy, and consequently failed to obtain the correct enjoyment from being a boy. That is to say, I didn't actually realise I had a cock; I knew there was a bit there of course, but not that it was a cock, if you understand my meaning. I'm afraid my thoughts were only of dolmens and pyramids, and it wasn't until you so correctly illuminated me that dolmens, are, almost certainly, meant to represent cocks, that I began to have some understanding of what I had missed out on.
Now, as you have so ably demonstrated to me that a boy has a cock in order for him to enjoy having a cock, I was rather foolishly wondering, if, at this late stage, it may be possible for me to experience a little of what I should have experienced when I was your age."

"Fink it shood be," Roy managed to do a rough translation and guessed, correctly, that the nutter wanted to play more boy games, "Like, I means, yer pretty good at wankin' me now, ain't yer, an' now yer's gorn and got rid of yer `airs an' all, I reckon I'd be okay wiv wankin' yer cock for yer if yer fancies. Akchully," he found himself saying, "Looks a pretty decent cock."

"Oh, I say, how nice of you," Chumly beamed, "But, if it's not being too demanding of me, I believe you did say something about sucking cock."

"Yer wants me ter gobble yer?" Roy leapt to the natural, but in this case incorrect conclusion.

"Oh, no. Well, yes, I suppose. Yes. But I meant to say would it be possible for me to attempt to, er, `gobble' you?"

"Yer fancies givin' us a bj?" Roy asked, a very large smile forming on his fallen angel face, "Too bleedin' right yer can! I ain't never `ad one yet, an' I'm well up for findin' out wot it's like."

"Oh, jolly good," Chumly enthused, "How do we go about it, do you know?"

"Don't fink it's `ard ter do," the boy tried hard to sound thoughtful, "But from wot I's `eard, like, yer just use yer marf instead ov yer `and, but yer `as ter be careful baht yer teef. Yer ain't sposed ter bite it, sorta fing."

"No," Chumly agreed, "I can imagine that would be a little painful."

"Too bleedin' right," the boy agreed with feeling, and then, on the principal of nothing ventured nothing gained, he said, "Fink yer sposed ter keep it in yer marf when yer makes it spunk an' all. `As ter swaller the spunk like."

"Really?" Chumly asked, "Any idea why that is?"

"Well, like I says, I ain't never `ad it done, like, so it's only wot I've `eard, sorta fing, but `pparently it's sposed ter feel well good fer the kid wots `avin' his cock sucked, knowing `is spunk's gettin' eaten, like. `An' be sorta tellin' `im he weren't werf suckin' if yer spits it aht."

"Oh good Heavens!" Chumly was horrified, "That would be the most unforgivable behaviour! I would most certainly not dream of insulting you in that manner! You should have no concerns about that. I will definitely consume your spunk!"

`Bleedin' `ell,' the boy thought, `Not just a bj, but me cum noshed an' all!'

The boy arranged himself as usual on the bed, hands behind his head and his legs parted a little so his smooth boy nudity could be properly molested, and after a little unnecessary check with his hand to ascertain that the boy's cock was fully hard and upright, Chumly approached that gently throbbing cock, opened his mouth and closed it again, but with cock inside

.

"Jesus H Christ!" the boy exclaimed as his fourteen-year-old cock experienced mouth for the first time, and he was unable to prevent his hips from attempting to thrust it deeper in Chumly's mouth.

In reality it was a fairly futile attempt because he only had just under five skinny inches and Chumly's lips were already down to where he used to have pubes and there was no more cock to be sucked.

A cock in his mouth gave Chumly's gradually emerging neo-adolescence something of a boost; a cock in his hand had primed the motors and cock in his mouth turned the ignition switch.

For some seconds his brain simply assimilated the information that he had a cock in his mouth and began to formulate appropriate responses. Cock, senses informed brain, was not a usual mouth occupant, but the elements of mouth - lips, tongue and hard palate – were raising no objections and actually their reports were favourable.

Taste buds experienced no displeasure, and smell, which always works in close co-operation with taste, reported definite stimulation from the close-up aroma of boy found in the genital area.

This information processed, brain gave Chumly permission to commence sucking. 

Chumly, at first, did as the boy had told him to and attempted to wank cock with his mouth, teeth covered by curled over lips he moved his head up and down, but found the result to be unsatisfactory. He did manage to move the silky soft skin up and down over the hardness beneath it, and he did get some very pleasing sensations when the tip pushed against his hard palate, but he was sure there had to be more to sucking a cock than that, and, unbidden, he changed his mouth grip.

Bothering less about the covering of his teeth, he formed his lips into an `O' and allowed them to slide up and down the saliva wet skin of the cock, no longer attempting to move that skin as a hand does when it wanks a cock, but simply to slip up and down.

The moans and whimpers from the sucked boy seemed to be moans and whimpers of pleasure and not of disapproval, so an encouraged Chumly continued with his experimentation.

When he brought his lips to the very tip of the cock, in contact with only the foreskin, the boy's moan was different, almost one of dismay, but when he allowed his lips to plunge down again, that small moan changed to a low groan that definitely indicated pleasure, and the boy's hips moved again, attempting to get more mouth around his cock.

This Chumly did for several minutes, a previously unappreciated by the boy advantage of having only just under five inches of really skinny cock being that such a cock can be sucked for some considerable length of time without creating any oral discomfort for the sucker, and Chumly experienced no signs of jaw ache as he gobbled away.

His lip ventures to foreskin prompted Chumly to engage in another small experiment. He noticed that if he increased the suction when his lips were at the very tip, and maintained that suction as he began the descent, the skin did move a little, and, at the descent depth of one inch, his lips just on the little ridge where cock head becomes cock shaft, he flicked the tip of his tongue over the foreskin, he rewarded himself with a definite gasp from the boy.

Taking encouragement from this, Chumly then attempted to poke his tongue tip inside the foreskin, and obtained not only a gasp but an "oh fuck!' as well.

Being sucked in this way, inexpert though it was, was still too much for Roy to maintain his passive behaviour, and one hand came from behind his head to ruffle the hair of the head that was sucking him, and the other to first stroke, and then to dig its fingers into Chumly's back.

Sensing that this was a sign he was permitted to continue with his experiments, Chumly also brought a hand into operation, first juggling with the boy's balls and then going on a journey of exploration over silky smooth thigh, and then back up again to balls, though this time an advance exploratory party of one finger went under the balls, over that sort of bulgy bit between balls and bum crack and up into the start of crack itself.

As all this was happening while lips continued to slide up and down his cock, Roy's balls began to churn a bit and the now very familiar signs of impending orgasm began to manifest themselves in the boy's lower stomach.

Unaware of this – Chumly had not yet learned to detect the signs that indicate a boy is close – Chumly cheerfully continued his ministrations, providing the boy with sensations of wonderful abuse until the cock in his mouth stiffened even more, jerked and shot spunk onto his tongue.

Not a vast quantity of spunk, even when he's only fourteen, a boy who is wanked to spunking six or seven times a day, each and every day, can't store up a truly significant load, but it was spunk, real spunk, only a couple of squirts but still with some decent thickness to it.

Chumly's taste buds were set a new task, and duly reported, `Bit salty, bit sweet, bit slimy, but no objections raised'.

 A surprisingly worn-out Roy – getting sucked it seemed was more tiring than being wanked – muttered, "Bloody buggers! Yer did an' all! Yer noshed me bleedin' spunk!"

"And it was not in the least unpleasant," Chumly nodded, "A little strange in consistency, perhaps, but, I suppose from the point of view of spunk, if spunk could have a point of view, that is, I expect it would regard its consistency as perfectly normal. And, I must say, that producing that spunk by oral administration was intensely pleasurable, and I would choose that method in preference to manual extraction whenever possible."

"Yer means yer wants ter eat me spunk agin?" Roy thought he'd managed to grasp the gist of the nutter's comment.

"Oh, yes, most definitely," Chumly confirmed, "I think I'll get quite addicted to it. It does seem," his previously aborted adolescence rearing its head, "The sort of thing a rather naughty boy might do."

"Yer," Roy agreed slowly, the realisation becoming very clear that he too would have to suck cock and eat spunk in the very near future. "Course," he said, "Yer can suck us an' nosh me spunk any time yer wants," though even as he said it he knew it would not delay, and probably precipitate the inevitable.

"We can be like two naughty boys together," Chumly beamed, confirming in the boy's mind his status as a complete nutter.

 

Roy's real problem though wasn't that he knew he was going to have to suck the nutter's cock and swallow as well – no way he could avoid that after the way he'd gone about getting his own spunk eaten – it was the alteration in his attitude towards that inevitability that was concerning him.

Near hypothermia and starvation had induced him to offer his body for survival, and he'd expected a day or two of abuse, probably total and complete abuse, before being cast out to starve and freeze again, but it wasn't working out that way at all.

Sure, he was being molested and abused often enough, he had no complaints about that, and he was warm and well-fed. The nutter showed no signs of getting fed-up with him, never left him untouched for more than a few minutes at a time, and in the three weeks or so he'd been kept by the nutter not a single stitch of clothing had ever been on his skinny body, but that was only reasonable as he spent most of the days and obviously all the nights in the nutter's bed, and when they did have to get out of bed for various reasons, the heating had been turned up so he was never the least bit cold.

Roy's problem was that he'd come to like being smooth and naked and being made to orgasm six or more times a day, liked it that the nutter couldn't leave his cock alone, and, for some reason, he'd stopped thinking about big tits and wet fanny.

`Fink I've bin bleedin' turned,' he thought as he had his morning bath and checked himself for total smoothness, using a hand mirror to peer at his crack, `Fink I've gorn bleedin' bent.'

Of course, he reasoned with himself, under the circumstances going bent was, or could be, an advantage. If possible he wanted to stay being molested and abused at least until the summer, when if he did get kicked out, he wouldn't be in danger of freezing to death, only of starving. But the nutter, much as he obviously liked Roy cock, was not going to stay satisfied with cock alone for five months or so, and once Roy gobbled him he was going to start having some ideas what he had a cock for as well, and sooner or later he was going to start wondering about Roy's bum.

The now bent, if only for the duration, Roy didn't worry about his bum becoming involved, he'd expected that even before he went bent, but common sense told him not to rush things; the longer it took the nutter to get round to realising boys were for fucking as well as for wanking and sucking, the longer it would be before the nutter got bored with him.

`Fink he's gonna be okay wiv suckin' an' eatin' me spunk fer a bit,' Roy thought, `An' longer I can make `im wait till I sucks `im, longer it's gonna be before he starts wantin' more. Gonna need a bit more than just me cock, though, ain't he, keep 'im goin' like. Praps I shood learn `im `ow ter snog.'

"Yoo ever fort abaht snoggin'?" he asked Chumly some ten recovery minutes after his second sucking of the morning, and received, as he should have expected, a blank look in reply.

"Snoggin'," Roy repeated, and for clarification, added, "Yer knows, kissin' like."

"Oh, I have heard of kissing," Chumly said knowledgably, "It's when two people put their mouths together, I believe, but why they should do that, I haven't the faintest idea. I must say, I've always thought it rather a strange thing to do."

`Not as bleedin' strange as yoo,' Roy thought. "Yer, well, it's a bit more than that," he attempted explanation, "Yer's sposed to open yer marf wen yer does it."

"Whatever for?" an aghast Chumly enquired.

"So yer tongues can mess abaht in each ovver's marves," Roy clarified, "Sposed ter be dead sexy, like."

"Oh, is it?" a more interested Chumly asked. `Sexy' was one of the words that had been added to his vocabulary since he acquired Roy. "Does it work?"

"From wot I've `eard, works bleedin' well. Course, bit like the sucking fing, it's only wot I've `eard cos I ain't done it yet, `as I. Ain't `ad no-one ter snog wiv before, like."

Roy felt rather proud of adding the last bit, he thought it implied that he thought the nutter was worth snogging with.

"Oh," Chumly said with a pleased grin, swallowing the flattery as easily as he swallowed spunk, "Is it something that boys do?"

"Oh yer," Roy said, making it sound as though all boys did it all the time, "Yoo wanna try it? See'f it makes yer wanna play wiv me cock or sumfin'?"

What Roy claimed to have heard about sucking cock and eating spunk, Chumly thought had turned out to be very accurate, so he was more than inclined to take the boy's word about `snogging' and give it a try.

In terms of delaying the development of sexual activities it was a complete disaster, but in terms of Roy's ultimate aim of being a kept boy for some considerable time, it was a touch of genius.

Mouth tentatively touched mouth, Roy was just as much a virgin snogger as Chumly, but after a second or two, lips parted and adventurous tongue tips peeked out. Tongue tip touched tongue tip, hesitated, then tried again with a little more daring, and again with even more.

At that point the same lightning bolt struck their almost entwined bodies and all restraint was fizzed out of existence.

Almost entwined became glued together, Chumly parting his legs to allow Roy's knee to thrust between them and nudge up against his balls, Chumly's reaction being to clamp his legs together to prevent any withdrawal of the boy's balls nudging knee.

Tongues went mad in mouths, twisting and twirling, searching for tonsils, and with no instruction given, Chumly had a hand on Roy's skinny bum, kneading and gripping an almost meatless bum cheek.

Instinct, or perhaps the memory of Chumly's previous single finger bum crack exploration, led to a second such exploration, but a more adventurous one this time as his finger did not stop at crack start, but ventured further into the gorge.

What his finger found was perfect smoothness, perfect hot smoothness that his finger had no desire to withdraw from, indeed it found itself drawn to seek the source of that heat and found the tightly puckered entrance to the boy,

"Jesus shit!" Roy colourfully gasped as his hole was touched, followed by "Bloody buggers!" as Chumly's finger pushed a little at the way inside.

He'd been obliged to stop kissing in order to utter obscenities, and with his mouth free and his lust furnace stoked by snogging and the finger on his hole, he didn't stop to think. He just writhed down the bed, grabbed Chumly's cock and stuffed it in his mouth.

Now it was Chumly's turn to gasp and moan as he was sucked. His cock was too much of a mouthful for the boy to get it all inside, so he concentrated on the head, slurping, licking, tonguing and sucking for all he was worth, never giving a thought to the inevitable consequence, and being absolutely shocked by the amount he was expected to swallow.

Not for the first time, Roy demonstrated that he had all the right instincts; he had to frantically gulp down a fair bit of spunk because of the quantity Chumly squirted into his mouth, but he held on to probably the equivalent of one of his own boy loads, and went back up to share it with the donor in a wonderfully slimy cummy snog.

"Oh, oh I say, oh I really do say," Chumly panted as he slowly returned from wherever being sucked off had sent him, "That was truly remarkable! Is it like that for you? Well, I mean, you wouldn't know, would you because it was my cock that was sucked, not yours, but you probably understand what I'm trying to say."

"Yer means does I like getting' gobbled," Roy grinned, licking the last traces of spunk from his lips, "I bleedin' loves it, yer daft sod."

"And you were so right about that snogging thing," Chumly enthused, "Really absolutely exciting."

"Yer, weren't it," Roy agreed thoughtfully, understanding that it was tongue on tongue action that had made him go down and suck, "Gets yer all sorta worked up, like."

"Worked up," Chumly considered the phrase, "Yes, that's a good way of putting it, worked up."

"Got yoo bleedin' goin', yer dirty ol' bugger," Roy grinned, "Don't fink I never noticed yer fingerin' me bum `ole."

"Oh!" Chumly was instantly apologetic about that intrusion, "I'm terribly sorry. It won't happen again, I promise."

"Bleedin' better' ad," Roy was definitive, "Felt bloody nice."

"Did it?" Chumly was genuinely surprised, "Didn't you think it was a bit, well, dirty of me?"

"Course it were, yer silly bugger. Well dirty. Loved it."

"You did?"

"Course I did. Boys sposed ter be dirty, ain't they. Fink that's wot blokes likes abaht `em."

"And boys? Do boys like being dirty with other boys as well?"

"Spect they does if they gets the chance," Roy sniggered.

"So we can be dirty together again?" Chumly's long delayed adolescence now brought back to life by snogging and being sucked was not going to disappear again in a hurry.

"Lots," Roy confirmed. "Uvver dirty fings wot I've `eard ov an' all."

"Really?"

"Yer."

"Do tell."

"Some ov `em's real dirty, mind."

"Oh, the dirtier the better," Chumly encouraged, adolescence now in full swing.

Roy was beginning to enjoy himself now; he was, after all, a fourteen-year-old boy and, as he had correctly stated, boys do like being dirty and especially talking dirty.

"Gi'us anuvver snog, then, an' I'll tell yer uvver stuff wot I's 'eard."

A different snog this time, lacking the frenzy of its predecessor, but no less satisfying in its own way. Tongues twirled, saliva was exchanged and Chumly was motivated to molest as much of the boy's body as he could get a hand on, and, of course, the more Roy was molested the more he enjoyed being molested.

Roy hadn't spunked in this encounter, but that didn't concern him – he'd orgasmed twice already that morning and now decided to try to hang on as long as he could before the next one, so his balls had a decent chance to fill up again so he could show the nutter just what getting a decent mouthful was like.

Some twenty minutes of relaxed snogging and appreciative molestation later, Roy was ready to talk dirty. His thinking process was along the lines of, `Bin bleedin' turned, ain't I, and ain't bleedin' objecting to it, so might as well get all aht ov it I can, like.'

"Want's me ter talk dirty, does yer?" he asked for confirmation, "Tell yer all the filfy dirty fings wot I's `eard boys talk abaht?"

"Oh, yes," Chumly eagerly confirmed, "Every single one of them."

"Dirty bugger," Roy grinned, "But yer gotta keep messin' abaht wiv me leg, like, cos I likes it."

Chumly took the hint and continued to molest silky smooth, skinny boy thigh.

"Best leave me cock alone fer a bit, though, just bugger abaht wiv me legs."

"Certainly," Chumly agreed, having long since developed a liking for skinny, smooth boy thigh.

"Yer, well, first fing like, ain't sumfin wot I've `eard of, like, just sumfin wot I fort of meself. Yer knows wen yer sucks me, like, well, `ow'd yoo feel abaht `avin' a suck ov me balls an' all?"

"Oh, do you think you'd like that?"

"Fink it'd be bleedin' magic," Roy grinned, nestling his head into Chumly's shoulder, "Feels bleedin' good wen yer plays wiv `em, so `aving yer gob dahn there bound ter be magic."

"Consider that done, then," Chumly gave skinny boy thigh an affectionate squeeze, "From now on, balls will always be included in the sucking process."

"Bril," Roy gave Chumly shoulder a little lip kiss. "Nah, `fore I gets rahnd to me bum, like, there's uvver bits ov me wot you orter be havin' a taste ov, like."

"Is there?" Chumly ungrammatically asked.

"Yer. Yer shood `ave a go at me tits, sorta lick `em and use yer teef an' all if yer wants, but not proper bites like, just sorta nibbles."

"Oh, really? Will that be nice for you?"

"Dunno, does I, only wot I've `eard, like, but sum kids says they likes it an' sum don't."

"Oh. Do you think it's something we should try?"

"Spose so. Won't know if I likes it or not if we don't. An' then there's under me arms, like, yer can lick and slurp me there an' all."

"And that's good?"

"Sposed ter be," Roy shrugged, "Dunno till yer does it."

"Well," Chumly considered these oral offerings, "I don't see any problems with trying them, but, er, well, they're not particularly dirty, are they."

"Nah," Roy agreed, "But doin' stuff to me bum is."

"Ah, yes, your bum," Chumly became a little more interested.

"Well," Roy continued his lesson on how to molest a boy, "Wot yer sorta started ter do wen yoo was suckin', well, that's wot's called `fingerin', only proper fingerin' is wen yer akchully sticks yer finger up in me bum `ole, like."

"Oh, I say!" Chumly wasn't certain if he was shocked or thrilled, "Is that possible?"

"Course it is. Yer `as ter get yer finger all slippery, like, `fore yer does it though, cos it won't go in if it ain't."

"Ah, yes, I did rather get the impression that may be the case," Chumly agreed. "I suppose that's why I didn't push because, well, it seemed tight shut."

"'As ter be, don't it. Shit'd just fall aht if it weren't."

"I suppose it would," even Chumly could see the logic of that, "But what's the point of this `fingering?"

"Bugger me," Roy, not inappropriately under the circumstances, sighed, "Yer really don't know nuffin' does yer. Bum `ole is where yer sticks yer cock in when yer fucks a boy."

Even Chumly had heard of fucking, but had never associated that action with boys.

"I had no idea that boys could be fucked," he admitted.

"Course they can. Meant fer it much as wimin is, just yer goes in their bums an' not their fannies. Course," Roy developed the theme, "Yer can fuck a bird up the bum an' all if yer wants, but can't see the point of that, meself. Might just as well go fer a boy if yer wants ter fuck up the bum."

Chumly just nodded.

"That's why bum `ole has different names, like," Roy explained, "Gets called `boy cunt', `boy fanny', `boy pussy' cos it gets used fer fuckin'."

"Oh, I see." Chumly didn't really see as all those words were new to him, but he did get the general gist.

"And, I suppose, a finger feels a little bit like a cock," he ventured a suggestion.

"Yer, course it do fer the boy, like, but yer does it ter open 'im up a bit an' all so's yer can get yer cock in wivaht splittin' 'im in `arf. Yer's gonna need ter get free fingers in me `fore yer `as a go wiv yer cock, cos yer cock ain't skinny like wot mine is."

"No, I agree, it is somewhat thicker," Chumly admitted.

"Course, if yer wants ter be really dirty, like," Roy grinned, "Yer can rim a boy `fore yer uses yer fingers."

"Rim?"

"Yer, rim. Can call it `eat aht' or `tongue' if yer wants, but they're all the same fing."

"They are?"

"Yer. Yer uses yer marf an' tongue `stead of yer fingers," Roy made it sound like a casual `throw away' line, but he was anxious to find out Chumly's reaction. Roy, now he was bent, had a fancy for being rimmed. "Course," he hastened to explain, "The boy makes bleedin' sure he's well clean first, like, so there ain't gonna be no shit abaht."

"Yes," Chumly shuddered, "Would rather spoil things if there were."

"Well," Roy concluded, "Fink that's abaht all the dirty fings I've `eard ov. No. `ang on, forgot spankin' din't I."

"Spanking?"

"Yer, `pparently sum blokes likes ter spank boys, warm `em up like, `fore they gets goin' on uvver fings. Don't just use their `ands neever, some ov `em, wacks `em wiv a belt or a cane, like."

"Good heavens."

"Yer. An' course, like wiv uvver stuff, some boys likes it an' some don't."

"Why ever would any boy like that?" Chumly tried to comprehend.

"Dunno, does I. Don't spose I will till yer's belted me a cupla times, will I."

"You want me to   ?"

"Fink so. Said from the start, like, yer cood do anyfin' yer wants ter me, `part from shit an' piss on me, if yer kept me, an' yer is keepin' me, for a bit anyway, so I gotta let yer if yer wants, ain't I. Only fair, like."

"I don't think we should do them all at once," Chumly said after thinking things over for a few seconds, and not finding any of the possibilities, apart perhaps from caning, but even that may have some just might have something going for it, actually utterly disagreeable.

"Yer," Roy readily agreed, "Sorta save fuckin' ter the last, praps?"

"I don't see why not," Chumly agreed, "I expect those other things will keep me quite busy for some time."

"Wicked," Roy gave a satisfied smile and settled neatly into Chumly's shoulder, knowing he was going to be abused for at least another couple of months.

 

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