Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2018 16:20:26 +0000
From: Andy Mann <andymann303@outlook.com>
Subject: The Tartan Tart - Part 2

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.

Please send any comments to andymann303@outlook.com. And please consider
donating to Nifty at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

Gay/adult-youth: oral anal, t/M+

- - - - -

The Tartan Tart - Part 2

After hanging out with the farmhouse masters, I was too battered and
bruised to continue meeting my pimps in the park for the rest of that
term. Don't get me wrong, I liked being used and abused by the
single-minded men, but the devil in me wanted more cock.

Being beaten up in the park, by a gang of rough kids from the local council
estate, was the perfect cover story. My Housemaster was incensed by the
alleged assault, but didn't contact the police. He took care of my bruises
and gave me more privileges; and didn't use the cane on me for weeks, which
kinda upset me. For some unknown reason, I really liked dropping my
trousers and underpants in Mr. Robertson's study. He really knew how to
redden a boy's arse-cheeks with that cane of his.

A few weeks later, during a rainy 'Leave Sunday', I wandered past the Grand
Hotel.

'Hello, David,' said a man standing outside the main door, under the plush
canopy. 'I have a room on the third floor. Fancy a gander; it's real
swish.'

I looked at the man and recognised him from my second visit to the hotel
toilet - he was my very first beau, the man who gave me my first taste of
adult cock.

'You look real sexy in that kilt,' he continued, 'especially when I know
what's dangling down behind that sporran.'

I giggled and joined him under the canopy.

'I'm supposed to meet my school friends in ten minutes,' I said, weighing
up my options. 'Cream cakes or creamy cock? It's a hard choice to make.'

'Well, the way I see it,' he said, 'you can have cream cakes upstairs,
courtesy of room service, and creamy cock as well, courtesy of yours
truly.'

'Now that's a good idea,' I laughed.

* * *

The hotel room was very swish, and the high tea was super-duper - I had far
too many cream cakes.

'Before we get naked,' said Duncan. 'Can I take a few photographs of you in
that sexy outfit?'

'Yes, okay,' I replied. 'I like being photographed.'

Duncan's camera captured me in all kinds of poses, and in all states of
undress. He took quite a few photographs of me in the can-can position -
fully clothed, holding the front of my kilt up, and showing off my best
assets. I was then asked to turn around and flash my rear end, before
stripping off completely.

'Can I show these photographs to a friend of mine, David?' he asked.

'Yes, why not,' I replied, smiling.

'And what if my friend wants to meet you in person; would you be up for
that?'

'Yes, why not,' I replied. 'The more the merrier.'

'Good, good,' he said. 'Now let's get you spread out on the bed.

It was then that the door opened and in walked two teenage boys, dressed in
grey bellboy outfits.

I looked around the room for my clothes, and began to panic when they were
nowhere to be seen - Duncan had stashed them in the bathroom a few minutes
earlier.

'Welcome boys,' said Duncan to the two teenagers. 'This is David, the new
kid on my cock.'

'He's real pretty .... and so-o-o naked,' said the taller of the two boys.

'Yes, real pretty,' said Duncan, dismissively. 'Now, David. Meet Bruce and
John, bellboys, no bum-boys, personified.'

Duncan then told me to stand up and greet the two teenagers properly, by
shaking their hands. I stood up, smiled and put out my hand; and as I did
so, John leaned forward and shook my cock, instead of my hand.

Meanwhile, Bruce stepped up behind me and shoved one of his fingers into my
arsehole. The two bellboys then sandwiched me between them and groped me
for a good ten minutes.

'Right, get your clothes off,' said Duncan to Bruce and John. 'I want to
get the rest of this sex-romp on film.'

The instant the two bellboys were naked, I dropped to my knees and began
working on their rapidly growing cocks. John had a small, six-inch cock
that was circumcised. By contrast, Bruce had an uncut cock that was some
seven to eight inches long.

Both Bruce and John had no pubic hair, so I had a real good view of their
wrinkly ball-sacs as I stroked and sucked their fully erect stems.

My head bobbed up and down as I kept the two teenagers happy with my lips,
tongue and fingers.

'That's it, David,' said Duncan, directing. 'Get those lips working on
Bruce's stiffy. He's going to be fucking you next.'

Both Bruce and John liked their sex rough. I was called all the names under
the sun as the camera captured the entire fuck-fest on film. John clearly
liked pulling my hair and pinching my nipples, whilst Bruce enjoyed making
me scream when he gate-crashed my inner sanctum with his hard-standing
cock.

'Shut up, tart!' snapped John. 'You should be begging for more, so beg!'

I looked over at Duncan, hoping that he might wade in and put a stop to the
abuse. He just smiled and continued clicking away.

'Treat him like a slut,' said Duncan to Bruce. 'He loves being used and
abused by bummers with lusty hard-ons.'

My fourteen-year-old anus was being pounded by Bruce's power-fucking, and
there was no way of escaping it. My innards felt as though they were being
turned inside out by his rock-hard stem. I gasped for air and looked up at
John, helplessly. He just pushed my head back down and told me to, 'Suck on
my cock, tart.'

'This is fucking great!' said Duncan. 'David, the cock-sucker, being topped
and tailed by two horny bellboys.'

Suddenly, a burst of adrenaline kicked in and I felt hornier than ever. I
began squeezing my arse-muscles to encourage Bruce to shoot his load. I
then took hold of John's ball-sac and encouraged him to increase his
stroke-rate.

The two fuckers went wild with excitement. They both slapped me hard as
they used and abused my submissive body. John twisted my ears between
slaps, while Bruce squeezed my flanks.

A few minutes later, I felt that now familiar pulse between my
arse-cheeks. Bruce squeezed my hips, hard, before flooding my inner sanctum
with his seed.

'Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!' Bruce groaned, as he slapped my arse again. 'That hole
is so-o-o fuckable.'

And without warning, he suddenly pulled out to allow John to finish me off
- I recall collapsing on the floor, with two loads of spunk oozing out of
my anus and mouth.

'Don't let that spunk go to waste, David,' said Duncan, as he scooped up a
dollop of spent sperm and offered it up to my mouth. 'Lick my finger dry,
boy.'

I did as I was told, and then sucked in Duncan's hard-standing length.

I had taken on three horny perverts that day, and satisfied them all. It
was almost five o'clock and near the time I was expected back at school.

After a quick bath, I dressed and returned to the room to say my goodbyes.

'Can we do it again?' I asked Duncan.

'Of course, David,' he replied, smiling. 'Just let me know when you're out
and about again.'

'Yes, I will.'

'We might have to draft in a few more cocks,' said Bruce. 'That arse of
yours can drain a ball-sac dry in seconds. It's so fucking demanding.'

We all laughed as I did a quick round of goodbye kisses before leaving.

* * *

My next session with Duncan and his friends occurred a few weeks
later. Duncan explained that my fan base had grown, thanks to the
photographs of me in the can-can kilt.

'How many fans have I got, Duncan?' I asked. 'Ten, twenty? I don't think I
can handle all this fame.'

'Yes, David,' he replied, sardonically. 'That sounds about right. Now let's
get you upstairs and naked.'

Duncan's hotel room was abuzz with chatter when I came out of the
bathroom. Two groups of naked men, plus Bruce and John, were discussing
football and horse racing. It was totally surreal. The three-man group were
all Partick Thistle supporters, the four-man group were Hamilton Park
racegoers. No one was talking about having sex with a fourteen-year-old
schoolboy.

'C'mon, lads,' said Duncan. 'The rumpy pumpy has just arrived, so stop
talking sport.'

A loud cheer went up as I stepped out from behind Duncan.

'This is David,' announced Duncan. 'He's here to suck cock and bend over
for a few select members. So don't go pushing your luck if you're not on
his dance card.'

Duncan reached down and caressed my ball-sac, and almost immediately my
cock began to twitch and harden. I looked around the room and saw a good
selection of semi-erect cocks, all waiting to be licked into shape by the
Tartan Tart.

By the time Duncan had picked up his camera, I was down on my knees and
sucking on two cocks. And as I did so, Bruce and John were organizing an
orderly line, to prevent any queue-jumping.

'The boy's gonna suck on every cock in the room,' said Bruce, 'so stop all
the pushing and shoving.'

'Nice one, boy,' said Frank, as he eased his cock out of my mouth. 'You can
suck on my dick any time you want.'

The man then rubbed his wet knob across my face, before stepping back to
let George take his place. I gulped and took in George's shiny knob, and
then Peter's uncut length, and then...

'Keep sucking those cocks, David,' said Duncan. 'I want everyone of them
todgers on film.'

My jaws ached by the time I had sucked on every cock in the room, bar mine
and Duncan's, twice. I loved fingering all those superb ball-sacs and stiff
lengths. I was in such demand, and it made me feel so special.

Frank noticed that my cock was pulsing even harder as I brought Colin to a
noisy climax. I gulped down his seed and gently squeezed his ball-sac,
trying to extract every last drop. His cock was the best of the bunch. It
was uncut and had an upward curve, like a banana. It wasn't the longest or
the thickest, but it was my favourite. And Colin reminded me of my
Housemaster, Mr. Robertson, so I felt real naughty sucking on his
seven-inch length.

I managed to swallow seven loads of spunk that day - so that removed seven
humps from my dance card.

After a ten-minute break, I was spread out on the bed, face down, and lubed
up with Vaseline. It was Frank who won the honour of humping me first. He
nailed my arse and began power-fucking me like there was no tomorrow. I was
sweating profusely as his hairy ball-sac slapped hard against my
arse-cheeks.

'He looks real nice,' said Gerry, 'all spread out like that.'

'And ultra submissive,' added George. 'Just like that Darren kid. His
little arse is truly fuckable.'

'Yep,' said Bill. 'A magnet for old bummers like us.'

Frank's first jets of spunk hit my inners without warning. He groaned into
my ear, and then continued pumping away. He was well past his climax, but
still he kept fucking me. The man was a sex machine.

'Keep going, Frank,' said Duncan. 'The boy needs more rod.'

When Frank finally pulled the plug, I was well and truly out of it. I was
soaking wet, boiling hot, and in need of a respite.

'Water. I need water,' I spluttered.

'Where's Walter?' asked Harry. 'The boy wants to be fucked by a man named
Walter.'

Several men laughed as someone put a bottle of Cola in my hand. The rest
groaned at Harry's piss-poor joke.

'Good show, Frank,' said Duncan. Right! Who's up next?'

George clambered aboard and began hammering away at my arse. I was still
sweating profusely as his stem piston-fucked my inners. He was just as
aggressive as Frank, but lacked his friend's stamina. Also, his love of
schoolboy arse had clearly triggered a premature climax. The man was so
into my sexy little bum.

Peter was next up. He took an age to get going; but once up and running, he
just kept going. His rhythmic pounding reminded me of John's arse-fucking
technique; so to help out, I spread my legs wider to accommodate his
magical thrusts.

'Pour some water over his neck and back,' said Peter. 'We need to cool him
down a bit. It's like fucking a fire down here.'

'That's the devil in him,' said Duncan. 'He's hot stuff.'

John wiped me down with a flannel as Bruce poured the water. I was so
grateful for their intervention.

* * *

I stayed away from the bummers for several weeks. My arsehole was in
tatters and it hurt when I went to the toilet.

I did see Gerry in the park during my next 'Leave Sunday'. He and a blond
boy were walking by the fountain. I knew something was up, so I ducked into
the bushes to keep an eye on them. Gerry and the boy, who I recognised from
school, sat down on a park bench. Two or three people walked past them, but
no one seemed to take any notice of the man and boy, or the raincoat draped
over their laps.

Gerry was clearly wanking off the boy under the coat. It was so obvious,
and so-o-o exciting. They just sat there, by the fountain, having
clandestine sex in a public park.

I unbuttoned my fly and eased out my cock. There was no way I was going to
miss out on this little adventure.

A man and his dog brought a sudden halt to the boy's playtime. The man
walked by the bench and stopped a few feet away. His dog tried to walk on,
but was quickly brought to heel. Gerry gave the man a look; the man gave
Gerry a look; the boy just sat there, looking extremely peeved.

My cock demanded a lot more attention, so what was going on?

Gerry lifted up the raincoat and showed the man the boy's stiffy. The man
nodded as Gerry lowered the coat and resumed the boy's playtime. The
raincoat was raised and lowered several more times. Then, without warning,
the boy's legs straightened and stiffened.

My cock was in full flight when Gerry & Co. decided to head for the bushes
behind the bench. What was I suppose to do now?

After my climax, I struck out for the park bench, hoping to catch a glimpse
of what Gerry and the man were doing to the boy, or what the boy was doing
to Gerry and the man.

I sat there for quite a long time. Clearly the group had left the bushes by
another route.

* * *

I checked out the small clearing behind the bench. It was the perfect place
to have some al fresco sex. Unfortunately, there was no one around to lick
into shape. Also, it was beginning to rain, so I headed for the main gate.

'Well, howdy stranger,' said Alec. 'Where ya been hiding yourself? Ralph's
been frantic with worry.'

'I've been ill,' I lied. 'The nurse said I had a fever, or a malady.'

'Ah! That'll be burning-bum fever,' he said, laughing. 'Boys like you get
it all the time. They take in too much dick, and then get sick.'

I looked around for Ralph, but he wasn't there. Then it hit me! Weston,
Darren Weston was the name of the boy with Gerry; and he was the 'ultra
submissive' and 'truly fuckable' kid George had mentioned; and he was a
year behind me at school.

'C'mon, bitch,' said Alec. 'Let's get outta the rain. The park keeper's hut
is over there, and it's full of smutty magazines.'

- - - - -

Comments to: andymann303@outlook.com

Other stories on Nifty by Andy Mann 303:

Andy's Adventures

Colin's Adventures

Trevor's Adventures