Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2008 01:35:23 EST
From: Glaucon55@aol.com
Subject: Punk Kids No. 14

Punk Kids: or Brent's Big Boner
October 16, 2005

Disclaimer:

If you are not yet 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials
of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story is for
adults, and contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys
initiated by them and with older men. This story is completely fiction, all
descriptions and names are also made up, and any similarities are truly
just that, purely similarities. I do not engage in or condone sexual
activity between adults and teenagers which is regulated by law. These are
fantasies for sexual private sexual enjoyment, not for emulation in real
life.

I would appreciate comments on my writing. I certainly admire the good
writers on the web, and consider myself still a learner.  The end is almost
here.  Next chapter is the finale.  I truly appreciate all the supportive
comments I have received, and the suggestions.  When I complete posting
this story, I will post others from my collection.  Please contact me at
glaucon55@....

Chapter: 14 Johnny Controls Cocks

Six months had passed since Johnny had taken control of Brent's big boy
penis.  The athletic, handsome fourteen-year old had turned fifteen.  He
was still the star of the Pony Colt league, and the middle school baseball
team.  No batter could catch up to his fastball, and every girl in school
had a crush on, or a fantasy about, him.  But Brent was living a regulated
life...his penis was no longer his own to control.  Johnny, who had turned
fourteen, had made Brent persuade Amy to become an unwitting part of his
supervision of Brent's constantly needy and erect cock.  The cock control
that Johnny now exercised over Brent's boners kept Brent even more horny
than he had been when he simply lusted for Amy and jacked off for his
personal pleasure.  Prior to submitting to Johnny's supervision, Brent
masturbated regularly to relieve his spunk filled balls, grinding his ass,
twisting his cock knob, tickling his ass pucker to help him plant his feet
on the bed and rise to thundering ejaculations, spitting ribbons of boy
spunk.  But after Johnny had forced him into the cock restraint, Brent was
desperate for relief which only Johnny was allowed to give him, and only
when he wanted to.  Now to add to his woes, Johnny decided to enlist Amy
into his plans for Brent's big boy dick.  Johnny contrived to have Brent
beg Amy to help discipline him when he screwed up at school or in baseball.
So with Johnny's guidance, Brent regularly shared with Amy a series of
infractions for which he would need to be punished.  Amy, who was still the
benefactor of Brent's dexterous tongue, getting at least one series of
orgasms each week as the teenage hunk was on his knees licking and sucking
her leaking pussy and insatiable clit. Since they were boy friend and girl
friend, Amy wanted to assist Brent in any way she could, and almost felt
that he was allowing her into his private sanctum by asking for her to
assist in disciplining him.  In some sense, she was helping Brent be a
better teenage boy, one who lived by the rules and remained under control.
What she did not know, was just how much "under control" Brent was in fact.

Brent could not get enough of Amy's pussy since it was the only "normal"
sexual contact he was allowed, and it was the one time a week he had
permission to be erect and leaking with a girl.  He would do anything to
sluice his tongue between Amy's soft, swollen cunt lips, searching out for
her growing clit, lavishing attention on in and also snaking his dextrous
tongue into her snatch to scoop out the copious and flowing teenage girl
juice.  On one occasion he had gone under a cubicle desk at the public
library deep in the stacks, lowered her shorts and panties, then licked her
blond muff till her clit went rigid and throbbed uncontrollably.  She had
to put her head down on the desk and bite her sweater to keep from
squealing out loud as Johnny's insistent tongue rasped back and forth and
over and around her spasming clitoris.  She came at least three times as
she squirted her tangy sauce onto his tongue and over his face.  On another
occasion, Brent had taken her behind the bleachers one night and pushed her
legs over her head as he sucked her to a four cum climax, wrapping his
tongue around her throbbing clit till she had to push his head off, and beg
him to stop.  Brent was hooked on Amy's cunt juice, and lived to hear her
beg and squeal when his tongue lapped through her puffy, sticky pussy lips,
and curled around her thick, knobby clit, his rough index finger gently
drilling deep into her cunt to stroke where his prick longed to be.  On
some occasions, he suckled her turgid tits and finger-banged her to a cum
before he gave her the tonguing that she loved so much.

So when Brent asked her to help him with his discipline, Amy felt that was
the least she could do.  He could not let her touch his prick, except by
rubbing him through his pants and briefs because of the sheath which Johnny
used to restrain his penis.  He made up an excuse that he was afraid that
he could not control himself, and so to prevent any "accidents," he would
take care of her—both demonstrating his affection and his desire to
please her.  He persuaded her that he felt that the discipline was her
contribution to their relationship, her way of showing how much she cared.
At first it seemed strange, but if Brent thought it would help, she would
do it.  Besides, it was kind of exciting when she punished Brent.  It made
her cunt drool.  In fact, after a while, they would administer Brent's
discipline first, and then Brent would lick her cunt, relieving the sweet
itch that would develop when she disciplined him, making her pussy leak and
her clit burn.

Brent obediently gave her the instructions he received from Johnny.  He
would explain that he had messed up at baseball practice, or some
insignificant thing would happen in a game, like walking a batter.  Or if
he failed to complete a homework assignment, or got a grade below a "B" on
a paper or quiz, or was late to class, that was cause for discipline.  Amy
suggested that he was being too hard on himself, but he insisted as Johnny
had ordered him to.  Then following Johnny's direction, and already hard
under his pants in anticipation of Amy's hands on his ass, he would lower
his jeans only, exposing his brief covered buns.  He would lie over Amy's
lap, his prick hard, aching and throbbing, but still bound in its sheath
and lock.  Then she would spank his taut buttocks, feeling them tighten
each time her palm smacked against the firm, hairy boy cheeks.  Whack,
whack, whack, whack...smacking her small hand over his warm glutes, making
him squirm and grind his aching cock against her legs.  Occasionally his
squirming would shift his ass, and her hand would land in the crevice
between his buttocks, landing into the cleft and slapping his twitching
anus.  "Aaagggghhhh he would grunt, his cock dripping and throbbing
helplessly in the binding sheath, wishing he could strip and fuck Amy into
oblivion.  He could not cum though, and so the punishment was double, not
only the feeling of her hands on his ass, but a raging erection that could
not expand to an ejaculation.  His prick would leak copiously, wetting the
front of his briefs, but he would quickly pull up his jeans after she
finished spanking him.  Then he would begin to make-out with Amy, thrusting
his tongue into her mouth using his tongue as a replacement for his prick,
and squeezing her tits as he prepared her so he could lower her panties and
finger and lick her to her orgasm.  These sessions would leave him with
blue balls, so that when he would finally get together with Johnny, he was
actually grateful for the younger boy's attentions to relieve is aching
nuts.

When Johnny's or Brent's parents were away for a night or weekend, Johnny
would arrange for a night together.  Johnny would tie Brent down to the bed
spread-eagled, remove his cock restraint, and then would start with his
long, wiggling toes, to suck, lick, scratch and finger his way to the big
boy's ears.  Brent's handsome and athletic body would writhe and bounce as
best it could, squealing with laughter as Johnny tickled him, groaning and
pleading as his prick, his nipples, and his anus were teased to the edge of
ejaculation.  He'd keep Brent's beautiful curved shaft throbbing, leaking
all over his taut stomach muscles, but would only tease and briefly play
with the aching boner making Johnny beg.  "Fuck dude,
please...pleaaaaasssseee, bring me off...shit, my nuts are killing me,
common "J", don't hang me out dude, lemme shoot, fuck...lemme shoot...jerk
me dude, jerk me hard...I'm yer slut...I'm yer bitch...make me cum
dude...ooohhhhh Christ, make me fucking cum!"  Johnny often paid special
attention to Brent's over-sized cock knob, the slick glans soaked with
clear teen pre-fuck, and itching for someone's touch.  Soft bristles,
electric tooth brushes, cotton garden gloves, finger massagers, and an
electric glans cap (which Johnny made), were each used to make the older
teen climb the ladder to a cum, only to be held under control until Johnny
was ready to milk him.

"Don't worry dude, you're gonna fire like a cannon when I get you there,
and then you're gonna cum again, and again.  We got all night, and I'm
gonna milk you like a cow's udder," Johnny would say.  Brent would groan,
because he knew that Johnny also loved to torture his sensitive glans after
he would ejaculate...then give him some time, and start all over again.
Many a time Johnny smiled as Brent howled and pleaded as his thumb slid
back and forth, over and around the bigger boy's over-wrought glans after
he had ejaculated, keeping the smooth skin taut, and creating a sensation
that almost drove Brent insane.  But Brent also knew that he was a whore
for Johnny's attentions.  No one could suck his dick knob, or tickle his
ass, or suck his toes, or ream out his navel or ears, like the punk.  And
as much as he hated to admit it, he loved having Johnny work his fat cock
knob till it ached.  Johnny would play Brent's body like a musical
instrument, making him squeal and squirm, leak and groan, beg and
shoot...and shoot, and shoot.  Fuck, the damn kid could milk him three or
four times in a row, and his God damn prick would respond every time,
hungry for Johnny's roiling fist and talented fingers.  The All-American
junior-high hunk was a fucking boy-bitch for someone to play with his cock,
and of all people, he was the teen-toy for a younger boy.

Johnny was naked on the bed, lying on his side against Brent's warm, big
body, his own throbbing boy dick leaking and rubbing against Brent's hairy
leg.  The younger teen suckled on one of Brent's stiff paps, and his fist
closed around the fat cock head, palming and jerking it in the very way
that made Brent sing like a girl.  He was making Brent drive his athletic
butt into the bed, then up to Johnny's talented fist, hoping to achieve the
cum he needed so bad.  "Oh God dude, jerk my prick, common, I've been
waiting for this all week, Christ, I fucking need this so bad, jeez, don't
fuck around, please, don't play...jerk my meat, make me fucking shoot my
scum...oooohhh yeah, there, right there, rub it, work it, milk me dude,
please...fuck....please!"  Johnny's cock would throb when Brent begged him,
knowing that only a few months ago the big boy didn't even know he existed,
and would never have allowed Johnny to touch him, much less play with his
prick whenever he wanted.  Now he was a big-boy whore, constantly in need
of Johnny to relieve him of his sticky, tangy teen sap, and willing
ultimately to do anything to get that relief.

There were times when Brent would try to seduce Johnny into giving him
relief...coming over to his house with an excuse to study, dressed in
shorts with no t-shirt and in flip-flops, hoping that the sight of his
already mature teenage body would persuade Johnny to strip and use him.
But Johnny was in no hurry.  After all, he had other boys and men to
manage, others to milk and use.  He had all the time and stock he needed to
keep his libido satiated.  But he loved to make Brent hope by suggesting
things for him to do to earn Johnny's approval.  When he would come over,
Johnny would make him lie back on the bed, lower his shorts to his ankles,
lift his legs up to his chest and finger his hairy ass pucker.  Brent would
do it, even though he was completely humiliated, because he wanted
desperately for Johnny to remove the cock restraint and let him cum.
Instead, he often got bluer balls, a teased cock knob, along with itchy
holes and hard tits, but no relief for his throbbing boy prong.  Sometimes
he had to bend over and grasp his ankles and ask Johnny to finger his hole.
Sometimes he had to pull his feet to his head and suck his own toes.
Sometimes he hand to masturbate his own cock knob with the restraint in
place.  All this for the few times Johnny would relent and then give Brent
the excruciating ejaculations he wanted and needed.  These rare
opportunities and few times kept hope alive for Brent and others Johnny
managed, making them willing to do anything to try and get the ejaculations
they craved.

But when he had the teen tied down on his bed for a milking session, Johnny
just kept toying with the bigger boy's fat cock knob, thumbing the
constantly expanding erectile tissue, then abandoning it just as Brent
would reach a thrusting crescendo, ready to spit his seed.  Up and down
Johnny took Brent hunky body, making him stretch out his long, thick toes,
or curl them, depending on the way he would toy with him.  Fuck he loved to
see Brent's toes curl from the helpless need and attention.  He would
abandon the cock, and then slip his index finger up and into Johnny's tight
asshole, and spend at least fifteen minutes finger banging the straight
teen.  Shit, Brent would grunt and groan the loudest when Johnny's
insistent finger would rub back and forth over his taut fuck nut, wringing
a delicious ache from his ass, and forcing him to tighten his butt cheeks
from the intensity of the sensation.  That's when Brent's toes would really
curl tight, and he would tug at his bonds, grunting and squeezing his eyes
shut, his penis throbbing to cum but left unattended.  He knew if he came
without permission, Johnny would punish him either by torturing his knob or
denying him any further cums.  So he would thrash and buck, struggling to
keep himself under control.

"Dude, its time for you to get your cum...but you're gonna have to
cooperate, "kay...?"

"Fuck, anything, please, do me dude, do me now...!"

But Johnny was not going to let Brent off that easily.  So as Brent
babbled, asking for release, Johnny unwrapped the velcro on one leg, and
attached the ankle to a rope and velcro restraint at the head of the bed.
He did the same with the other ankle, and then began pulling a rope that
was connected to the two.  As he pulled, Brent's long legs moved up, his
knees bent, and then kept going.  Johnny stopped, and tied off each of the
ropes attached to the ankles to a bar running between each of the bedposts
to give the bed stability.  Now Brent was bent in half, his knees at his
chest, and his ankles spread apart over this head.  Johnny stuck several
large, stuffed pillows under Brent's lower back to support his body and
prevent him from hurting himself.  His ass was up and the furry trench was
spread apart, the ragged cleft of his anus barely visible through the thick
fur.

Johnny went up to the big boy feet flapping at the head of the bed on
either side of Brent's handsome face, the toes were again wriggling, and he
grasped one of the feet and slipped the toes in his mouth, and began to
suck on them.  He looked down at Brent and smiled.  Brent was not paying
attention to Johnny.  His body was folded to the point where his long,
curved shaft was bobbing against his face, leaving sticky pre-cum tracks on
his nose, lips and chin.  That is what Johnny intended.  He drew his
fingernail directly down Brent's pale, high arched sole and as he opened
his mouth to squeal from the tickling, Johnny used his free hand to grasp
Brent's boner and slip it into the boy's protesting mouth.  Just like that,
Brent had his fat cock head, and at least one inch of the shaft lodged in
his mouth.  Johnny watched as Brent's Adam's Apple moved as he swallowed
and struggled to adjust his breathing.  He grunted and tried to speak
around his leaky knob, but the words were garbled, and came out as grunts
"...hooooowwwwttttt, haaaaaakkkkkeee
hithout...nnnnggggghhhhhhhhhhh... hhhhhoooouuuuttttt, mmmpppppphhhhh."  But
Johnny just ignored Brent.  It would be the first time the jock hunk would
suck his own prick, but not the last.

Johnny got the electrical circlets for Brent's nipples, and turned the
transformer up.  Immediately the hum and buzz of the circlets made Brent's
nipples go hard, and then Johnny took his free index finger and slowly
dragged it back and forth over the anal pucker, now obscenely exposed.
Then he scratched his fingernail against the sensitive lips, and as the
knot spasmed, Johnny again slid his finger into the older boy's bowels and
up his rectum.  He had dipped the finger into a jar of Vasaline, so it slid
right up and in, and as he penetrated the writhing teen's asshole, the
finger slid against, then past the thick ring of Brent's fuck nut.
"HHHHHMMMMMmmmmmmppppphhhhh... nnnnngngnngnnnnhhh, aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh,"
Brent squealed around his fat cock knob, mouthing it unconsciously as he
gurgled and his throat vibrated from the sounds helplessly drawn from him.

"That's it dude, slide your tongue and lips around that muther...suck it,
yeah, suck it big boy...lick that fat cock and drink your own jizz...fuck
yeah, eat your prick you slutty jocksucker!"  Brent was out of control.
His nipples were tingling from the electrical current, sending jolts
directly to his ass, and as Johnny's finger slowly reamed in and out, Brent
clenched his ass muscles tight when his prostate was stroked.  Then his
penis expanded each time his ass flexed, the piss lips widening to drool
more sap onto his lapping tongue.  Now Brent's toes were clenched tight,
the fuck finger making him squeeze them along with his ass muscles, and he
continued to gulp, swallowing his saliva and the drizzling pre-cum as he
sucked on the tender prick tip.

Johnny was in heaven, his own penis drooling and his fist sliding back and
forth over the tip, as he watched Brent's handsome mouth work feverishly
and uncontrolled over his own penis.  Brent couldn't stop himself.  The
finger in his ass, the tickling of his feet, and the electric current
running through his nipples reduced him to a shuddering, twisting punk,
sucking his own boner.  The middle school's jock stud was a boy cunt, tied
and spread, used and teased, and sucking his own uncontrollable boner until
it passed the point of no return!

"Faster dude, eat that prick...faster, suck it, suck hard...yeah, feels
great doesn't it, now you know that you can give yourself relief... you'll
be dreaming of putting your legs over your head every night so you can suck
it, huh, wishing you could be a dick slut every night with your own fat
prick...yeah dude, lick it and suck it...make it squirt, fuck yeah!"
Brent's eyes were glazed.  He was twisting his lips and vacuuming his mouth
around the bulging cock head.  His lips would slide down about an inch, and
then slide up and grip around the thick corona, his tongue lashing the
sensitive flesh.  He finally closed his eyes, and his rectum gripped
Johnny's fucking finger as it slid one last time over his prostate,
squeezing so hard the younger boy thought Brent's ass muscles might break
his finger.  He could see Brent's prick expand one last time, and suddenly,
Brent was gulping and his eyes went open staring with shock.
"MMMMMMMMMMNNNNNNNNN!" His prick was firing bolts of thick gism into his
mouth, and he was forced to swallow fast in order to keep ahead of the
sticky starch filling his mouth over and over.  Even as he swallowed, he
was whining, working desperately to avoid choking on his viscous teen sap.

"FUCK YEAH...drink it dude, drink it down, suck your own sap, better keep
that tongue working on that prick knob...don't stop, or I'll slip the prod
up your ass and turn it on while it's resting on your fuck nut...so keep
sucking dude...suck it hard."  Johnny's exhortations kept Brent working his
lips and tongue, even after the cum stopped drooling from his prick.  It
had been so long, the cock would not lose its firmness, and the glans was
still expanded within the hot, sucking confines of it's owners mouth.  Now
Brent closed his eyes again and groaned out loud,
"aaaaagggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" over and over, from the sensitivity of his
tongue rasping over and over the helpless, captive prick tip.  Finally
Johnny allowed him to stop.  The bigger boy collapsed as his legs were
unloosened, and he gasped for air as Johnny went to the bonds to begin to
release him.

Soon, Brent was tied down again, and in fifteen minutes, Johnny was lying
between his hairy legs, begining to masturbate the big teen, using two
fingers of a medical glove with the head of a child's toothbrush glued to
the finger pad of his thumb and index finger, each covered with the short,
soft brush bristles.  Dipped in the Vaseline, Johnny went back to pinching
and plying Brent's stiff teats now free from the electric current, and
mauling the still stiff prick shaft and the always reliable prick knob,
waiting for its dose of agonizing attention.  Within thirty minutes, Brent
went through another howling ejaculation, saying anything Brent wanted him
to say, and making his mouth as dirty and slutty as the younger teen
demanded.  Later in the early morning hours, Johnny woke up Brent, who
remained tethered, one more time. Using the anal prod and his own now
experienced thirteen year old fist, he worked another exciting performance
out of Brent, making the bigger boy groan, plead and writhe through one
more helpless ejaculation, his fat knob only able to drool cum, but still
throbbing and shuddering from the sensations.  Now matter how he protested,
Brent always responded to the stimulation, his all-American looks and
demeanor betrayed by the ever whorish lust that made his cock and the rest
of his hunky body respond to any touch.  The next morning, Johnny helped
the teenage hunk piss and shit, overseeing and observing every normally
private function---shaking his penis off and wiping his asshole, then gave
him an enema, and showering him.  During the shower he could not resist
playing with the big boy body one more time.  He tied Brent's arms up over
the shower head, then he milked Brent with his mouth and fist one last
time, enjoying how the big boy thrust his hips automatically to surrender
to the sucking mouth on his tingling glans; closing his eyes and yielding
to fingers reaching up to pluck his tits and under his balls to finger
Brent's boy hole.  Johnny was on top of the world, he was finally in
complete control of other guy's cocks, both big boys and men.  But most of
all, he had fully and completely captured Brent McDermott's big boy
boner...and had total control of it.

Nor was Brent his only success.  Perhaps the most fulfilling capture for
Johnny was Officer Connor Anderson.  After discovering him on one of his
tapes of Father Richardson's confessional, he had him join on a regular
basis with others and for private sessions. His most recent private session
with the married police officer was one of the most fulfilling he'd
experienced.

Anderson was sullen, and serious each time he met with Johnny.  It was
beyond his comprehension that he could be under the control of a 13-14 year
old punk kid, a kid who did not need a gun or his fists to keep a tough guy
like Connor Anderson in line.  Here was a mature, masculine, strong,
athletic young male, trained to use deadly force and hold his own on the
streets.  He had dragged in punk kids from twelve to twenty and made them
cry like babies for mercy, but now, at least once a month, he was on his
knees, usually bound, letting this fucked up kid milk his thick,
unprincipled prick.  It was enough that his cock was now caged, so no more
satisfying blow jobs from the faggot priest.  But to protect his reputation
in the station, he had to let this kid who was barely old enough to play
with his own pud, work his bloated cock head till it screamed to cum...and
eventually did, inundating everything around it in thick, tangy sauce.
Then the screaming was usually coming from Connor, begging the little
bastard to stop torturing his sensitive knob after he'd spewed his load.

At their most recent session, in a safe house used by the cops to which
Anderson had access, the big boy cop was bound on the queen size iron bed
in the main bedroom.  He was on his back, with his wrists bound to this
ankles, his legs spread by a broom handle to which his ankles were also
tied.  Connor had his hat on, and his Sam Browne belt, but he was naked and
trussed.  He also had a ball gag conveniently stuffed into his mouth,
preventing him from saying anything to Johnny. With a triangular pillow
underneath his lower back to support him, Connor was spread open like a big
dicked dish for Johnny to enjoy, and enjoy it he was.  The chances of
getting so straight-acting, and straight-believing a guy as mature as
Connor was unlikely.  It was only because Anderson was scared of being
kicked off the local constabulary, or ostracized as being a faggot, that he
agreed to the blackmail that had him tied up like a dumb-and-full-of-cum
dipshit.  His mind worked feverishly to find a way to escape from his
predicament.  Johnny knew it might not last, and he was determined to
"milk" the opportunity, so to speak, as long as he could.

In that position, his hairy ass trench was deliciously displayed and the
pink, ragged slit of his anus was barely visible behind the thick, blond
fur that was wedged between his firm glutes.  As usual, his short, but
unusually thick cudgel was ramrod stiff, its bulging knob, with its
oversized fat plum head, sopping in the copious pre-slop that dripped from
the moment Connor got hard.  His teats were stiff cones too, thrusting
through the forest of blond on his chest and swirling around his nipples,
and Connor's toes unconsciously and reflexively curled and unfurled, the
extra long index toe looking like it was flipping Johnny the bird for his
hated control over the police officer.  Even Connor's toes had tufts of
blond hair on the thick, long digits at their knuckles.  But Johnny was
unconcerned about Connor Anderson's anger and angst.  He had pulled the
young, trussed man to the edge of the bed so his asshole and butt cheeks
were fully exposed to his ministrations, as well as the pale, smooth soles
of his big, muscled feet.  And in his hand, Johnny had a small fly-swatter,
one he hand found in the shed out in the back yard; perfect for a tanning
of the firm, hairy ass mounds of a bound law enforcement officer.  The
fly-swatter was obviously a toy, made of smooth and flexible plastic for a
child to use.  So it's coverage and sting were already limited.  But Johnny
has improvised it, adding a layer of bristles that he had carefully pruned
from a wide, 6-inch painter's brush.  You don't find brushes much anymore,
but this one was full of dust and cobwebs in the shed, and clearly of no
use to Johnny's father anymore.  Still, it would serve a useful life cut
into quarter inch bunches and glued through the tiny openings of the
fly-swatter.  Now it was time to try his device out.

Connor's eyes had widened when he saw the little fly-swatter, with its
coating of short, stiff bristles.  His toes reflexively curled, and his ass
pucker tightened, as he shouted incoherently into the ball-gag:
"Nnnnnnnnnnnnoooooo... nnnnnggggggghhh, sssssstttttttoooooo... pppppphhhhh,
ssssshhhhhhhhiiiiiii... ttttttpppphhhh, nnnppppphh!.

Johnny let Officer Anderson plead a bit more, his babbling into the gag
making no sense and without any hope of persuading his 13 year old captor.
When Connor tried to buck away from the edge of the bed where he lay so
exposed, that was when Johnny brought the flexible swatter down with a spat
on Connor's firm globes!  "Swat... Swat...
Swat... Swat... Swat... Slap... Slap... Slap!" The firm, pale mounds,
covered in thick blond fur, turned bright red, and just within the crack,
the exposed slit winked from each resounding contact of the swatter and
ass.  Connor was helpless, and once again hard as a rock...his prick
slapping against his firm abdominals as he futilely ground his ass into the
bed, then bounced upwards, in some weird hope of escaping from the stinging
blows.  But with careful precision, they continued, and his cock ached from
the fucking need to shoot a load despite his humiliation.  "Whap, Whap,
Whap, Whap..." The steady rain of slaps continued.

"AAAAAAAAiiiiiiieeeeeeeeee, nnnnnnpppppppphhhhhhhooooooo, aaaaaawwwwwww
ggggggoooooooodddddmmmm... oooooooohhhhhhh... nnnnnnoooppphhhh, fuc...ph!"

Johnny smiled broadly looking right into the terrified eyes of the older
police officer, loving it as the muscled cop's body was unable to escape
the rain of smacks that peppered his ass cheeks.  And now Johnny
diversified his target, making sure to confuse his squealing victim.  First
on one pale sole, then on the other, then into the furred crack to scrape
the bristles against the ragged anal slit, then against the exposed
testicles, and most importantly across the fat, broad glans of his sticky
wet prick head.  Occasionally, Johnny was even able to land a blow on
Connor's chest, seeking out the rubbery teats that seemed to like the
bristles scratching across them.  The bristles took much of the pain out of
the swats, but never the less they hit with intensity and the firm little
hairs scratched whatever they made contact with.  On Connor's feet, they
tickled insanely, on his balls they scratched even as the swatter caused
the large nuts to ache, on his ass slit they scraped making his tighten his
sphincter as much as possible to avoid any penetration beyond the surface,
and over his leaky cock tip, they wrenched loud exclamations into the gag
from the combination of intense tickling of his glans and scratching at the
same time.  His nipples just seemed to be harder and angrier as they poked
up and out from the edge of firm, jutting pecs.

For twenty minutes, Johnny worked on the bound and sweating police officer,
driving him insane from the wicked sensations.  Then, grasping a toothbrush
he had brought with him, he went to work on Connor's bound feet, brushing
back and forth over the smooth sole, under the long, thick toes, and into
the high arch.  The tooth brush tickled the cop into gasping submission
while Johnny then grasped his sticky boner at the same time, and slowly,
every so slowly, masturbated the now sensitive and itching cock knob in his
teenage fist.  Connor wanted desperately to shout curses at the punk kid
who was torturing him so sweetly, and to scrunch his feet so that the
maddening tooth brush could not tickle him, but he was unable to do either,
so he just bellowed into the gag, and finally shot wads and wads of thick
cop gism into the palming fist that would not release him from its
maddening and determined grip.

"NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO... AAAAAAIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE... AAAAAHHHHHH! He
squealed in horror as the fist kept up its unrelenting massage on his
spitting, expanded, bloated, cock knob.  But the brush on his feet,
distracting him, prevented him from concentrating on the desperate
sensations on his over-wrought glans.  That was just the beginning.  Later,
Johnny would slide a bristle finger up Connor's tightly clenched anus,
scratching and tickling the entrance to his male fortress, and gradually
slithering up to find his fat, hard fuck nut.  Then he masturbated the cop
from the inside out, using his fist as a sleeve into which the bucking
policeman would spasmodically slide his still cum sticky fuck stick, as he
moved haplessly to avoid the insistent frigging deep up his rectum.
`MMMMPPPPPPHHHHHH! AAAAAWWWWWKKKKKK! NNNNNOOOOOOGGH!"

Connor Anderson got the cum relief he had been seeking, but not the way he
wanted it.  He came five times on that bed, the fifth and last with a
lubricated cotton garden glove wanking his inflamed cock knob into
submission one last time while a whirring vibrator tickled his sore fuck
nut to encourage him.  But even when Johnny showered the defeated and
exhausted cop later in the bathroom to clean him up, (still bound for
Johnny's protection), the officer's unruly prick still stiffened.  Now it
was completely under the control and whim of its thirteen year-old master.
He did not cum again, but between tit twists and soapy palming, Connor
Anderson was erect when he locked back into his cock sheath that would keep
him horny and desperate until the next milking session at Johnny's hands.
Fuck Johnny loved his work!

To be continued...I appreciate all the comments I have received since I
began posting this story.  Since this is my first written work on my own in
two years, I will continue to look forward to hearing from you.
Glaucon55@aol.com