Date: Sat, 7 Jul 2018 07:08:38 +0000
From: Andy Mann <andymann303@outlook.com>
Subject: Sweet Talking Guy - Part 1

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. It is not based on
any real persons, living or dead. Please leave now if you are underage,
or dislike vivid descriptions of sexual activity between men and teenage
boys.

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Gay / interracial: oral anal, t/M+

- - - - -

Sweet Talking Guy - Part 1

I entered the Labour Exchange a few seconds before the downpour began.
The black man who stepped through the same doorway a minute later was not
a happy man.

'Fuckin' rain,' he said, pushing past me to get away from the open doors.
'It's always fuckin' raining in this bloody country.'

'That's for sure,' I agreed.

'I should have stayed in Grenada. It doesn't rain that much there, until
the hurricanes hit.'

'Yeah, right,' I replied. 'Then you get blown all over the place.'

'That's why I'm here, son,' he grinned. 'I got blown here last year. So
now I need some money to get a ticket back home again.'

I laughed.

'Old Mr. Fuller will send me off to some crappy factory or warehouse job
to work forty hours a week for a piss-poor wage packet; or in your
case... How old are you, son?'

'Sixteen.'

'Old Fuller is ex-army, so sixteen isn't a good age. He'll do his best to
get you in the Army Cadets. The old git is more like a recruiting
sergeant than an employment officer.'

'I know. He tried to sign me up last week, but I told him where to go.'

'Be careful, son. If Fuller takes a dislike to you, he'll find an excuse
to stop your dole money. He can be a right bastard when he wants to be.'

'He can be a real slowcoach, too,' I groaned. 'This place is almost empty
and we still have to wait ages to be seen.'

'Don't complain,' said the man, taking off his raincoat. 'I don't want
him sending me off to an interview in this bloody weather. It's still
pouring down out there.'

'What sort of job are you looking for?' I asked.

'Anything that isn't too strenuous. I've heard that Dyke's are looking
for a warehouseman.'

'I got sacked from there last year. The governor is pretty hot on the old
timekeeping. The work's easy, but the money is rubbish.'

'So you've done a bit of warehouse work?' he asked.

'Yeah, some.'

'I'm waiting for a real gem of a job to come up. It's down by the docks,'
he whispered. 'The warehouse was built in 1963, so it's only two years
old. The place is a fuckin' palace. It's got proper heating and a
canteen.'

'A canteen!'

'Yep, a canteen. The loading bay foreman is my brother's mate, so I'm in
line for a job when they start recruiting again. He reckons June or
July.'

'How many vacancies?'

'Two or three, I think.'

'Is the money any good?'

'Yep, they pay top dollar. That's why there's a waiting list. It's real
hard to get in if you don't know the right people.'

'That's a shame,' I said. 'I could have done with a job like that.'

'Tell you what,' he said, 'let's give Fuller the elbow and take a walk
down by the docks. We'll look in on the foreman and I'll sweet talk him
into putting your name on the waiting list. By the way, what is your
name?'

'Dean .... Dean Sutton.'

'Honoured to meet you Dean. My name's Guy Reedy, but most people call me
irresponsible,' he laughed. 'I have no idea why.'

I laughed at the half-decent joke and looked back, over my shoulder, at
the two open doors. The rain had eased off a little, but it was still
coming down in buckets.

'Maybe later, after the rain has stopped,' I said. 'I don't want the
recruiting sergeant bawling me out for missing an appointment.'

'Yes, you're right, son. I can see that you're not the type to break the
rules. I'm gonna tell my brother's mate that; he's always on the look out
for honest and decent workers.'

My interview with Fuller led nowhere. There was a crummy job in a factory
making baking foil, a labouring job at the local scrap yard, and the
obligatory offer of a wonderful career in the British Army.

Guy had seen Fuller before me, so he was waiting outside the Labour
Exchange when I left.

'Another stamp on my card and two more weeks of dole money; ain't life
great,' he said. 'And it's stopped raining.'

'Did he offer you any job interviews?' I asked.

'Of course, but I dodged them all. I don't want to start a job and then
have to throw it in a few weeks later, when the warehouse job comes up.'

'I'm off to see a Mr. Sanders at the scrap yard. I'm not taking the job,
but Fuller said I have to attend the interview.'

'That's a bummer. Fuller's always making life difficult for people like
you and me. Tell you what, let's pop into my old place of work and pick
up my last week's wages. We can then see Mr. Sanders, tell him to stick
his job, and go on to see my brother's mate at the warehouse.'

'Yeah, why not,' I said to my new-found friend. 'Did they sack you ....
the people you worked for last?'

'In a way - the bank pulled the plug and closed the company down a month
ago. The place is empty now, apart from Devan and Earl, the two foremen.
They run the office, pay off the workers when they turn up, and generally
keep an eye on the place. The bank wants to sell the building before the
local kids start smashing the windows.'

Guy and I walked down several narrow lanes and side streets for almost
twenty minutes; and in truth, I was beginning to regret my decision to
team up with the 'it's not too far now' man.

Guy was a tall, thin man in his late twenties. He had a long, thin face
and nappy hair, which was cut really short. He wore a dark grey raincoat
over a light grey suit, and looked more like an office worker than a
warehouseman. His claret coloured tie looked old and expensive, and his
shoes were black brogues.

In contrast, I was dressed in a black bomber jacket, a white shirt that
was a size too big for me, and blue jeans that needed a belt to keep them
up. Being tall and thin, I found it hard to find off-the-peg clothes that
actually fitted me. My long, blond hair and good looks were unable to
compete with my scarecrow outfit, which I had finished off with a pair of
black, Chelsea boots.

The building we eventually entered was a real dump. It, and the others in
the narrow lane, looked uninhabitable and ripe for demolition. Dunns Way
had a canal and high wall on one side and a row of twelve buildings on
the other. The ground floor of each three-storey structure had once been
a stable, originally designed to house a hansom cab and horse. The floor
above the stable had stored feed and fresh straw, and the top floor had
housed the cabby and his family.

Number six had been stripped of all its internal walls and fittings, and
was now just an empty shell. Only the top floor was semi-habitable.

'Greetings, fellow humpers,' said Guy to the two men sitting at a table,
playing cards. 'This is Dean Sutton.'

The top floor was just one open space, with windows front and back and
nothing covering the wooden floor boards. A table and four chairs stood
in the centre of the floor, and three oblong packing cases stood in a
stack by the back windows.

'Greetings, fellow humper,' said Devan, grinning. 'And greetings Dean,
friend of the best humper in town.'

I just smiled and looked around me. The building had clearly not been
used for ages. The stairs that led up to the top floor were more than a
little rickety, and the handrail on the first floor had been removed
completely.

'No one has worked here for ages,' I said, not realizing the danger I was
in by stating the obvious. 'What's this all about, Guy?'

'Just hark at him,' said Earl. 'For your information, boy, a humpie and
three humpers worked here yesterday. The humpie is over there in that
case, the one on the bottom.'

I began to edge toward the stairs.

'Where are you going, Dean?' asked Guy, placing his hand on my arm. 'You
can't just walk out on us now. You're our new humpie.'

I froze completely when Guy tightened his grip on my arm. I knew I was in
danger, but I was far too scared to move.

'You can play this the hard way or the easy way, son,' said Guy. 'It's
entirely up to you.'

I looked at the two black men sitting at the table. They were both
well-built and rugged looking. Earl was in his early twenties and Devan
was in his mid-thirties. They looked like two hard-nosed thugs from the
dock area. Earl had short, nappy hair and a broken nose; Devan had no
hair and a stare that could kill. They both wore run-of-the-mill working
clothes and heavy, Tuff boots.

I knew it was now or never. I turned toward the stairs and foolishly
sealed my fate. The floor boards were extremely hard and unyielding. I
went down like a sack of potatoes - Guy had brought me down with ease,
and was now sitting on my back, holding my head down.

'Bundle!' exclaimed Earl, as he stood up to join the battle.

'Grab his legs, Earl,' said Devan. 'He won't be able to run away if we
hobble his pins.'

'Fuck off, you bastards,' I shouted at the top of my voice. 'You're in
big trouble now. The police...'

'Shut up, squirt,' snapped Earl. 'The Old Bill won't catch us. We're too
clever for them.'

I tried to move, but Guy and Earl had my body pinned to the floor and
there was nothing I could do.

It took Devan a few minutes to get the horse-bit gag into my mouth and
the straps secured around my head. The bastard was none too gentle when
it came to forcing my teeth apart - his fingers knew all the right places
to push and poke.

He then stood up and shifted his attention to my feet. I did all I could
to stop him taking off my boots, but arching my feet was never going to
do it.

'The longer you resist, the longer you stay,' said Guy. 'The lad in the
box wouldn't play ball, so he stays in the box until he learns his
lesson. You could be out of here by teatime, but only if you co-operate.'

I had no idea what they were going to do to me. Why had Devan taken off
my boots; and why was he now taking off my socks?

'What a nice pair of feet, and look at those lovely toes. I'm going to
have a lot of fun playing with these little beauties.'

'Just strap his ankles together, Devan,' said Earl. 'You can play with
his feet later.'

'Temper, temper,' replied Devan. 'Let's not fight over our new bum-boy.'

That's when the penny dropped. The word 'bum-boy' had set off a major
alarm bell in my head. These three men were planning to stick their cocks
into my arsehole. They were queers, but fucking strong queers.

Devan fastened leather straps around my ankles, which were held apart by
a metal connecting rod and clips.

'Excellent,' said Guy, as he removed his raincoat and threw it over the
back of a chair. 'That should stop him running away.'

Earl and Devan took hold of my arms, pulled them above my head and linked
them together with wrist-straps and another metal rod. I was then turned
over, picked up by the two rods and dropped onto my back from a height of
two or more feet. An almighty thud echoed round the room as my body hit
the wooden floor.

Guy and Earl lifted me up and dropped me on the floor two more times. The
pull on the wrist- and ankle-straps was extremely painful, especially
when I was swung back and forth a couple of times before being let go.

'You should have been more co-operative, son,' said Guy.

'I bet he wished he had now,' added Earl. 'Let's get all his clothes off.
He's bound to look a lot better in the nude.'

None of my clothes were spared the knife. Everything I was wearing was
cut and ripped off me. The two men slashed away for some ten minutes, but
miraculously, I wasn't even nicked by the two ultra-sharp knives they
were using.

'He's so pretty,' said Devan, as he bent down to pick up the remnants of
what I had been wearing. 'And he's so pale and skinny, too.'

A sack was pulled from the bag that had contained the leather straps and
metal rods. Earl and Devan filled it with everything I had walked in
with, including my wristwatch and boots.

'Let's treat our new bum-boy to a trendy haircut,' said Earl. 'Where's
the razor and scissors, Devan?'

'In the bag, with that aftershave you like,' answered Devan, grinning. 'I
made up a fresh batch this morning.'

All the hair around my genitals was removed with a sharp razor. I was far
too scared to move, but still Guy held a knife to my throat and made sure
that I didn't. I was then sat up and relieved of the horse-bit gag.

'He's nice and placid, Guy,' said Devan. 'Unlike that little bastard you
brought back yesterday. He was a right pain in the arse.'

'Yeah, but it only took us a couple of hours to break him,' put in Earl.
'They all break in the end, or finish up in the canal.'

The tip of Guy's knife was pointing at my left nipple when Devan and Earl
began shaving off my golden locks. I was as bald as an old coot by the
time the horse-bit gag was back in place. And boy was that gag needed -
the large bottle of aftershave that Devan had mixed up was a real eye
watering concoction. I yelled into the gag as the liquid, which smelt
like TCP, was splashed all over my head and genitals.

'Look at him go,' said Guy, laughing. 'I love it when they react like
that.'

I sat on the floor and cursed myself for being so naive. All that stuff
about a cushy job down by the docks was crap; and I had fallen for it
hook, line, and sinker. I had been set up by three queers, and like a
moron, I had walked right into the trap with my eyes wide shut.

The next humiliation to befall me was an ice-cold shower. I shuddered and
shook, and bit on my gag, when Devan emptied a bucketful of water over
me.

'Stand him up and thaw him out,' said Guy to Earl. 'Take our young guest
for a little walk. It'll help him dry off.'

The metal rod between my wrist-straps was removed to allow my arms to be
secured behind my back. I was then fitted with a leather collar, which
had a long chain attached to it.

'Change that ankle-rod for a chain, Devan,' said Guy. 'We don't want him
falling over and breaking his neck.'

Round, and round, and round, I went - like a horse being trained for
dressage. Earl stood in the centre of the training ring and held the
chain taut. Guy and Devan stood outside the imaginary circle and slapped
me across the arse as I walked by.

My fear of being buggered was now coupled with the fear of being held
captive and tortured for God knows how long. I knew I wouldn't be able to
tackle any one of these bastards, so I had zero chance against three. My
only hope was to do their bidding until they got bored and let me go. Of
course, I had no back-up plan if that didn't happen.

'He's a fine looking boy,' said Devan to Guy. 'You really know how to
sort the wheat from the chaff.'

'Yep,' replied Guy, grinning. 'This one had "weak and willing" written
all over him. I knew he wouldn't be any trouble.'

'And look at that lovely cock,' put in Earl. 'I'm really looking forward
to licking that little charmer into shape. I like 'em small and uncut.'

'It was bigger than that before I poured the bucket of water over him,'
said Devan. 'They all shrivel up when the cold water hits 'em.'

The soles of my feet were splintered and sore by the time I was ordered
to stand still. My arse was also in pretty poor shape, especially the
right-hand cheek.

'Let's bend him over the table, wash out his arsehole and introduce him
to the black mamba,' said Guy. 'We'll see how much rubber he can take.'

The ordeal that followed lasted an hour or more. I was bent over the
tabletop and tied down with an array of ropes. My legs were bent at the
knees, spread apart and tied to the table with more rope. Devan ensured
that my arse-crack was denuded of all its hair before cleaning out my
rectum.

'He's real tight down here,' said Devan. 'We better use a smaller dildo.
The mamba could damage his prospects for good.'

'Nonsense,' said Guy. 'Grease him up good and give the mamba a whirl.
Dean can take it.'

The pain was truly indescribable. I screamed into my gag as the solid
piece of rubber was pushed into my virgin hole, stretching it to the
limit. Tears rolled down my cheeks as my nostrils flared and I bit down
on the bar in my mouth.

'Hold onto the table, you two,' said Devan. 'He's moving it all over the
place.'

'How far is it in?' asked Earl.

'Quite a way,' answered Devan. 'His hole's very accommodating.'

'Excellent,' said Guy. 'I told you he could take it.'

The black mamba retreated a little, then pushed forward and screwed
itself deeper into my inner sanctum. This move was repeated four or five
times, triggering more muffled screams from the 'weak and willing'
teenager.

My cock began to twitch and enlarge as the dildo continued to lance my
rear end. I had no idea why my traitorous member was, on its own
volition, reacting so positively to my misfortune: the bloody thing was
getting larger and larger as the assault continued.

'Nice,' said Earl. 'He's taking it up the arse like a real trooper. Look
at those rosy red cheeks and tears. The pain must be excruciating.'

'And look at that hard-standing cock,' added Guy. 'I think our new humpie
likes being fucked.'

'That's as far as I can go,' Devan interrupted. 'Give me that chain,
Guy.'

The chain attached to the back of my collar was handed to Devan, who ran
it along the length of my spine and down my arse-crack. The mamba was
somehow fastened to the chain as it was looped round the base of my cock
and secured with a small padlock.

'He's sweating like a pig,' said Earl.

'He should be grunting like a pig,' replied Guy. 'Grunt like a pig for
me, boy.'

With snot dripping from my nostrils, I did my best to comply.

'Grunt some more, boy,' ordered Earl.

'And keep grunting until I tell you to stop,' added Guy.

The sound of a pig, with a large, foreign object stuck up its arse, could
be heard for some five minutes. The three men stood back to admire their
prize and congratulate themselves on how quickly they had broken me.

'Stop grunting, boy,' said Guy. 'You're giving me a headache.'

'He looks so fuckable,' said Devan. 'Shall we replace the mamba with
something a little less demanding?'

'You speak for yourself,' chide Earl. 'This humper's cock is just as
demanding as that lump of rubber; and what's more, it's full of
mouth-watering vitamins.'

'In your dreams, Mr. Super-cock,' Devan sneered. 'That lump of rubber is
twice as big as your todger.'

'Size isn't everything, Mr. Dozy-bollocks,' snapped Earl. 'It's the way
you expand your humpie's horizons; the way you fuck his brains out; the
way you distribute all those essential vitamins. It's poetry in motion.'

'Pack it in, you two,' said Guy. 'You sound like those two old queens in
the Yorkshire Grey. Pull the plug, Devan, and get him ready for some real
cock. He's done really well, so let's give him a treat.'

It felt like the mamba had split me in two, so I was more than grateful
to Devan when he released the chain and gently pulled the dildo from my
rectum. I ached all over, both inside and out. My muscles had never
supported my body in such an awkward position, so they were screaming out
for relief.

The three men stripped off in front of me and began pulling on their
uncut cocks, which were all extremely larger. I gaped at the cocks as
they each grew in girth and length.

Thankfully, the dildo had prepared me for the gang-bang. I bit on the bar
in my mouth as Guy took hold of my hips and pushed his cock deep into my
battered hole. I grunted and groaned as he power fucked my rear end and
shunted the table a couple of feet towards the back windows.

'That's it, Guy,' shouted Earl. 'Fuck him good.'

'And give him something to remember you by,' added Devan.

The two men laughed as they watched their friend fuck my brains out with
his hard-standing cock. He hammered away at my rear end like a man
possessed, and all I could do was hold on tight and wait for the storm to
pass.

The table moved two more times that day. Earl was the next to step up and
give me something to remember. He was far more aggressive than Guy, and
kept slapping me hard across the arse-cheeks as he pumped me full of
'essential vitamins'.

'That was fuckin' sweet,' he said, withdrawing his cock from my burning
hole. 'You've done well, Guy. He's one of the best boys I've humped in a
long while.'

'Yes. I knew he was going to be hot and easy,' said Guy.

'And still his cock is rock-hard and begging for a little more
rub-a-dub-dub,' said Devan. 'Look at all that pre-cum on the floor.'

'It's a shame we can't help the poor sod shed his load,' said Earl.

'That's right,' snapped Guy. 'So let's get on with our work.'

Devan was quick to step into the breach and take over from Earl; and
unlike the two steeple chasers that had gone before him, he took forever
to complete the course. His rhythmic, piston-like stroke action never
gave me a moments rest. I moaned into my gag as he abused my hapless body
for what seemed like hours.

Devan began his climax with a series of low snorts, which grew louder and
louder as he hammered home his assault on my arsehole. For one last time,
his ball-sac slammed into the back of mine as it gave up its seed.

'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' he shouted, squeezing my hips with his powerful
hands.

'Stay in there, Devan,' said Earl. 'Don't let any of that hot spunk leak
out.'

'Give him everything you've got,' added Guy.

My lungs sucked in more air as Devan nudged the table, and my body,
forward a little more. He was clearly determined to keep his cock inside
me for as long as possible; so when it did eventually shrink and slip
out, he wasn't best pleased.

'Nice one,' said Guy to Devan. 'You humped him real good.'

'I'll do better next time,' replied Devan, slapping me hard across the
arse. 'I was holding back for his sake.'

'We didn't,' put in Earl. 'Guy and I fucked him at full throttle. Maybe
you're getting too old for this sort of thing.'

'Fuck off!' snapped Devan. 'I was holding back for the boy's sake. He's
new to this kinda stuff.'

'He's new to this kinda stuffin', you mean,' Guy joked.

The words, 'do better next time' made me groan. Devan was planning to
fuck me again, so clearly the men were going to keep me captive for a
good while yet.

'See if our new humpie enjoyed his first gang-bang, Guy,' said Earl.

I groaned again when Guy crouched down behind me and took hold of my
cock, which was still hard-standing and aching for attention.

'His cock is as hard as a rock,' he said, laughing. 'I should really take
care of it, but...'

I let out another groan, which interrupted the bastard in mid-sentence,
as he released my aching cock. Every fibre of my being was now hoping
that he wasn't going to leave me on the very brink of a climax.

'I was about to say,' he continued. 'I don't think Dean would want me to
wank him off.'

I frantically shook my head in disagreement.

'See! The lad isn't very keen on the idea at all,' he said,
misinterpreting my head movements on purpose. 'I knew he wouldn't want a
black man to satisfy his pent-up urges.'

My tormentor continued to dream up pathetic reasons why he shouldn't wank
me off; and as he did so, I felt the gentle caress of his fingertips on
my hairless ball-sac.

'C'mon, Guy,' said Devan. 'Grab hold of his cock and wank him off. The
poor sod looks like he's about to have a fit.'

'That's true,' said Guy, 'but will he thank me for it in the morning. He
might think I had taken advantage of him.'

I shook my head in desperation and let out a garbled and muffled appeal
for relief.

'There you go; he's shaking his head again. I told you he wouldn't want a
black man to release the seed from this ripe, little ball-bag.'

My cock twitched uncontrollably as Guy tugged on my ball-sac and blew a
lungful of warm air up and down my arse-crack. He then took hold of my
manhood and gave it a gentle squeeze.

My entire body shook as the table and I lurched forward a few more
inches. My tormentor's caress had triggered a climax that was going to
keep me moaning and groaning for a very long time.

'Fuck me!' exclaimed Earl. 'He's shot his bolt already.'

My body shook again as jets of semen erupted from the end of my aching
cock and flew through the air. I knew I could be beaten for losing
control and spoiling Guy's fun, but there was nothing I could do about
it: my treacherous cock had decided it wasn't going to be tormented any
more.

The semen continued to flow as I thanked my lucky star that Guy was
encouraging me to 'keep it coming, son' and not threatening to beat me
up. Also, I was glad that the bulk of my body was being supported by the
tabletop and not by my awkwardly placed and restrained legs, which were
wobbling like jelly.

'Look at all that spunk on the floor,' said Devan. 'Our new humpie is a
veritable sex machine.'

'And look how far it's travelled,' added Earl. 'He could have had
someone's eye out with that first effort.'

'Let's get him untied and cleaned up,' said Guy. 'We can box him up
before we get the other one out.'

The three men released my bonds and dragged me over to where a rope hung
from the ceiling. My arms were raised above my head and the wrist-straps
attached to the rope.

'Make him sparkle, lads,' said Guy.

Devan tipped a bucket of ice-cold water over my head; and as I recoiled
from the shock, Guy and Earl began scrubbing me down with brooms. Another
bucket of water was poured over my head when Devan went to work on my
arse-crack with a small scrubbing brush.

After the clean up, I was released and wrapped in an old army blanket.
The men then laid me out in one of the empty packing cases and screwed
down the lid.

Each case was some six to seven feet long and large enough to hold a
full-grown man. Four handles, made of rope, were fitted to the outside of
the coffin-like box, with a breathe-hole above each one.

All my restraints, including the horse-bit gag, had been removed before I
was packed away in the wooden box; however, I was under strict
instructions not to make a sound until the lid was opened again.