Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2014 08:53:43 -0400 (EDT) From: MGTBILL@aol.com Subject: DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO Chapter 84 ready DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO Chapter 84 by Donny Mumford As we leave the lavatory my bib overall's outfit is listing to the left and hanging dangerously near my dick in the front while most of my left butt cheek is exposed in back. The left strap is dragging on the floor uselessly because Billy broke the snap ripping my shorts down in his haste to fuck me. I'm not sure exactly how long ago that happened because I was in a delicious submissive fog at the time. I'm not in a fog now though. Now I'm just drunk, but I'm a sexually contented drunk. Walking hand in hand we're aimlessly walking through the loud group of drunk gay men here at the club portion of this establishment, to quote the man at the front desk. Finally I cough, and say, "Um, where are we going, sir," and then remember I can call him, Billy, so I say, "Um, Billy." I forget why I needed to call him sir, not that I care all that much what the reason was. All I know is I'm sticking with him because who the fuck knows where John is. We haven't seen him for quite a long time it seems, and for the life of me I can't remember the address of the studio. Also, I don't have any money to pay for a cab even if I knew the address. Unfortunately Billy doesn't have any money either, but I'm sticking close to him anyway. Without Billy I'm lost in New York City wearing this ridiculous bib overall thingie with half my ass sticking out in back and the top of my dick showing in front. For all I know we could be on our own and we're not really dressed for normal public consumption. We sorta need to find John who at least is dressed normally, not to mention he has money. Billy says, "We need to touch base with John," and I'm thinking, 'No shit!' Billy shrugs, and says, " I have no fucking idea when he's planning on leaving, and he's sure as shit isn't gonna come looking for us. He'll figure that's our job." I go, "Oh," and step on the strap that's dragging between my legs. I hear a ripping sound and looking down to see that more of my dick is visible now, so I use my free hand to hold that side of my shorts up. No big deal to a drunk like me, but still it's awkward holding hands and holding my shorts up too. We walk around the entire club without spotting John or his three friends. I say, "Lets wait by the door. It's the only one in or out of here so he has to go through it sooner or later." Billy mutters, "Yeah, if he hasn't gone through it with those three guys." Oh fuck, even drunk I don't like the sound of that. We lean up against the wall next to the door still holding hands, and now that we're stationary we get hit on repeatedly by inebriated older men. Billy handles the situation amazingly well. Not rude necessarily, but he's very direct and a little pushy with veiled threats of our 'dom' being dangerous. One of the men buys us each a drink which taste like cherry something or other, but I can tell it has alcohol in it too. He says. "It's called Amoretto and it's an after dinner liqueur." He asks us if we'd like a smoke and Billy looks at me while telling the man. "Thanks, but we don't smoke," although he knows I do. Man, I could really, really go for a cigarette now. I look at Billy, trying to act as humble as possible, and say, "Please, Billy, just one." He sucks on his lips, then says, "No." I say, "Pretty please with sugar on it." He grins, then laughs, "Oh, okay, just one. I'll try one too." The man says, "We need to smoke in the designated area," nodding his head to the left. It's a smoky room outside the club, but we can still see the steps that John would go down to leave. We follow the man, carrying our drinks, with Billy saying to me, "If we get in trouble it's your fault." I mumble, "I know, I'll take the blame." I'm holding Billy's hand, with my drink in my other hand, so my bib is hanging down uncovering half of my dick and all my left butt cheek. Our benefactor looks to be in his thirties, not unattractive, but not cute and there's nothing particularly sexy about him. He has brown hair with a nondescript, run of the mill, Supercuts haircut, an okay body with wide shoulders. Average build, about my height and he's rocking a dark two or three day's growth of beard, which is getting to be the style I guess. It's not turning me on though and that's because his whiskers look stiff and coarse. Not my thing. In the smoking area the man says, "By the way, my name's Ron, nice to meet ya." Billy tells him our names without offering a handshake. Ron tells us he has a yearly membership to this club. He's single so he comes to the club a couple times a month meeting up with guys he knows for some random sex with one or more of them." Billy says, "TMI, Ron," and Ron says, "Hey, I'm not hitting on you two. I just thought you looked lost so I'm offering you assistance. Do you need a ride or anything?" Billy says, "No, we don't. We're here with our dom and he gets a little crazy when we talk to other men." Ron offers us cigarettes and lights them for us, saying, "Well I'm the last guy in the world to look for trouble." Billy says, "Good to know," and takes a big drag off his cigarette, inhaling it and blowing smoke out his mouth and nose at the same time. So, he doesn't smoke, huh. My ass he doesn't. A nonsmoker would be coughing like mad from an inhale like that. I'm smoking my cigarette like there's a time limit on how long I have to smoke it. Ron asks, "What's it like being submissive boys to this crazy dom of yours? Is it a slave/master thing?" Billy says, "No, it's not." His short answers don't give Ron much to go on, but he's not easily discouraged. He says, "That's so interesting. I've always wondered what it'd be like having a submissive boy, um, I'd want to pay mine though. I'd pay him good." Billy has nothing to say to that as he take another big drag off the cigarette and then blows a perfect smoker ring. How come I'm the only person on earth who can't do that? Ron says to me, "How about you, Dylan, would you be someone's submissive sex boy for say five hundred dollars a day?" Billy says, "No, he wouldn't." Ron's getting a little frustrated, he goes, "You're both subs, as you're called I assume, but you act like you're his, um, dom. Is that the correct nomenclature, or whatever it's called?" Billy says, "That's right, I'm his dom when John isn't around and I'm taking over, as his permanent dom, after this weekend." Ron exhales smoke in Billy's direction, and sarcastically says, "Oh, you got promoted, did you?" Billy puts out his butt in a large communal ashtray, and goes, "That's right. I promoted myself." He finishes his drink, puts the glass down, and says, "Thanks for the drink and the smoke, Ron," then to me, "Put your cigarette out, we're leaving." One last drag and I do as I'm told. Ron says, "How about another drink? We're just getting to know each other." Billy has a finality to his, "No, thank you," and to me, " Lets go, boy," getting my dick stirring again. I love that bossy shit, especially from a cute guy younger then me. We walk back into the club, showing the back of our hand, and resume leaning against the wall near the door. Billy says, "That hit the spot, huh, Dylan?" I go, "Yes, sir, er, yeah it did, Billy." Man, I liked the way Billy handled Ron and that whole situation in general. Yep, I want some dates in Salem with Billy. He looks at me, then uses his thumb to wipe something off my nose. I don't want to know what it was. He says, "Come with me," and pulls me to the bar by my hand. He grabs a couple of napkins and hold them to my nose, saying, "Give a good blow." My dick moves as I think about Ryan doing this same thing after spanking me. Letting go of my bib, I blow my nose and grab my cock. Billy takes the napkin away, drops it on the floor and smacks my ass, "Don't touch yourself!" I mutter, "Sorry." My dick gets a little firmer. Oh yeah, Billy and me definitely have some dates together in our future. Back to leaning against the wall near the door. Billy's telling me how our first date will likely go. He says, "It won't be until three weekends from now because I have a commitment to John the weekend after next, and next weekend I need to work. So you'll have done some back sliding from what you've learned this weekend. That means our first weekend will be all about going back over this weekend only I'll be more stern with you next time. That's obviously because I'll start right off being your dom from the minute you arrive." I'm looking at his lips move again as he talks. He's got the sexiest lips. As often happens with me, the longer I'm with dominant types the sexier they become to me. It gets stronger and stronger and I'm already feeling hot for Billy. It's only been an hour since our sex together and my groin already has that squirmy feeling again. Having the urge to touch him, I reach out and rub my fingers through his bangs like I did before. I can't decide if they're sexy on him or girlie, but I'm leaning towards sexy. He stops talking and grins at me. Hmmm, I realize I've no idea what he's been saying for the last five minutes. He pinches my nose, saying, "You're so fucking sexy cute! I'm really excited about us together. I thought at first we'd be best friends, but this will be so much better." I'm staring at him feeling the hot's for him growing inside me, so I run my fingers through his bangs again, fascinated that he'd wear his hair like this for all these months. I ask, "Will you still be seeing John when you and I, you know, are meeting in Salem?" He goes, "Well, like I told ya, I think he's going to dump me, but if he doesn't, then I'll dump him for you." I go, "Oh, so you won't need to follow his rules any longer. You won't need to have a ponytail, for example." He says, "Yep, and I'll be happy to try a new hair style myself after all this time. I've had a ponytail for about five years, but John's the one who cut the bangs on me, I never had them before and it took a long time to get used to them. I won't be sad to see them go." I say, "I'm an awesome barber. I can cut your hair anyway you want." His eyes open wide, "Really? You're good?" I say, "Yes, I am, even if I do say so myself." He goes, "That's awesome! I haven't been to the barbers in years." Taking a chance, I say, "So, I guess we both won't be following John's rules, right?" He goes, "Right, I won't be following anyone's rules in my new position with you and, of course, you'll be following mine." I'm not sure I want to know what his rules are, but I have to ask, "Um, will your rules include a ponytail like John required, or will your rules be different?" He shrugs, "Until I can figure out new ones, they'll be like John's because I don't know any other rules but his." He pulls his ponytail over his shoulder, saying, "You and I will exchange places as far as hair styles go. You'll be my ponytail-with-bangs submissive sex-toy boy instead of me being John's." Oh fuck! That's gonna be a problem. A big problem. I never gave it much of a thought before because I had little intention of another trip to New York, but now this development. Hmmm, being kinda drunk, I press the issue, "How about the Prince Albert?" He asks, "What about it? If you mean your PA, yes, you'll have one and I'm not as particular as John about the licensed body piercer. If he's licensed, that's good enough for me. I promise you'll have one, word of honor, so you can stop worrying about that." He still thinks I want one. Ponytail and a PA, both deal breakers, but no sense making waves now. Billy wants to dance, where my first choice would be to go to sleep. Looking at my watch I see it's after one o'clock in the morning and I got up before four this morning. Billy rules though, so we dance, but we do it near the door so one of us always has an eye on it. We dance for what turns out to be a half hour and we're dripping with perspiration when we finally call it quits. I danced holding my bib up most of the time and when I didn't hold it up my dick would make it's way out and flop around as I danced. Billy dared me to dance an entire tune with my dick hanging out and that got other dancers pulling their dicks out and it became a lot of fun. It's the first trend I think I ever started. Billy had his big piece of meat out too. It was very close to actually dancing naked. The booze everyone imbibed tonight lessened inhibitions a lot. We put our dicks away and asked the bartender for water. He was laughing because his station is near where we were dancing and he thought the dancing cocks was way cool. He gives Billy and me draft beers on the house. We'd rather have had the water, but the bartender was trying to treat us so we thanked him. Billy goes, "Another cigarette would go nicely with this beer." I give him a funny look and he laughs, "Okay, I smoke, just not around John." We go in the smoking room and try bumming a couple of cigarettes. It's not hard because everyone is drunk or close to it. So we scored a couple of cigarettes, but we have to endure a sweaty kiss from a very gay older man who called us the most beautiful twins he's ever seen. We don't look alike, but the guy's hammered and he saw us as twins probably because we're both wearing identical bib overalls. We wipe our cheeks after the kiss and luckily someone the old guy knows calls him over to them. We never got around to exchanging names. After the cigarette we lean against the wall near the door again and I almost fall asleep standing up. Then Billy's hand tightens on mine, as he says, "There's Cody," and he pulls me with him over to Cody who's so drunk he's swaying on his feet. He goes to drink from his full drink and misses his mouth altogether pouring it down the front of his shirt. Billy asks, "Where's John?" Cody looks at us like he's never seen us before, then says, "Who?" Billy says, "John, your prep school roommate." This time Cody gets the glass to his lips and swallows some of the drink, then slurs something about John didn't fuck him twice tonight. Billy says, "Where is he now?" Cody does an elaborate shrug spilling some of his drink on the floor doing his shrug. He looks at the booze on the floor frowning comically, totally confused how it got there. Billy says, "Let me have forty dollars, John will give it back to you." Cody sways on his feet frowning at us now, and one of the guys Cody and John knew at the bar hours ago comes over, and asks, "Where'd the fuck have you been Cody?" Cody laughs a boozy laugh, muttering, "I got lost." The other guy asks us, "You're John's boys, right?" Billy says, "That's right, where is he?" The guy's reaching in his pocket, saying, "I've been looking for you two the last, I don't know, almost three hours. John had a headache, he left like three hours ago and he gave me this to give to you," and he holds out a hundred dollar bill, adding, "He said to be sure you save at least thirty buck for cab fare." Billy takes the bill, saying, "Thanks, man. You rock, dude." Cody sits on the floor and the other guy says, "Oh, fuck," and helps him up. We thank the guy again, and he says, "Well, don't I get a kiss?" Billy kisses his lips quickly, mutters, "Thanks again," and leads me by the hand out of the club. Going down the steps, he tells me. "John gets migraine headaches at times and it ain't no fun being around him when he has one. Lets hope he's down for the night." Outside there are quite a few other guys trying to flag down cabs. Billy says, "We'll walk some blocks away so the competition for cabs isn't so stiff." I don't even give a thought that we've holding hands anymore because we've been doing it the entire night. As if reading my mind, Billy says, "Get on the other side of me, Dylan, this hand's going numb." I do that, and now his left hand is holding my right hand and I'm holding up the left side of my bib overalls with my left hand, so that worked out good. Billy doesn't talk as we walk five or six blocks away before trying to hail a cab. He says, "Okay, try here. You get us a cab," so I'm out in the street as cars and cabs whiz by me. Finally a cab pulls over and we get in. Billy give him the address of the studio and we're on our way at last. What seemed an almost helpless situation has turned out alright. The cab ride cost just under twenty-six dollars, but the cabbie pretends he only has fifty-one dollars on him for change of the hundred, so the ride actually cost about fifty bucks, not that we give a shit, it's not our money. I stare at Billy going up in the elevator wanting badly to have dates with him, but not wanting a ponytail with bangs, and the PA is out of the fucking question. I don't know if I should try negotiating these points or wait until our first date. I'll probably wait until our first date because why face up to something now when you can do it later, ya know? At the door to the studio Billy has his hand on the knob, saying, "If this is locked we're fucked. I don't have a key and I'm not pounding on the door waking John up 'cause I'm not looking for a strapping." He looks at me mischievously, "Will it open, Dylan, or do you and I cuddle on the street somewhere for the night?" He turns the knob and we walk in. John's at his drawing board drawing. He's wearing only skimpy pajama bottoms. He turn around, "Ah, my boys are home. Did you have a good time?" He's in a good mood telling us he slept for an hour and a half and his migraine went away. He tells us to get undressed and put our butt plugs in, and then he wants to hear all about our night. Billy screws my butt plug in, which hurt as it stretches my anus. When it's all the way in I need to stoop forward a little to accommodate it. I do Billy's and John wanders over to check. With a hand on my shoulder, he says, "No, Billy, that's the same diameter that Dylan wore earlier. Go up a half inch." Billy twists the butt plug out and uses a wider one and this really hurts and is way too tight stretching the hell out of my anus. It's longer too and I thought Billy would never stop twisting it up my ass. I grunted quite a bit as it was going in, but kept it short of whining. When it's finally in I can only take little steps walking. Neither Billy nor John pay any attention to my discomfort. Billy's able to sit on his butt plug, but I remain standing as Billy does a hell of an accurate job of detailing just about everything we did the last three to four hours. He again leaves out his discussion with me about me being his boy. When he's done John pats his back saying, "Okay, you guys had a pretty good time, but I wish Chickie had found you earlier and given you the money. There's still some unfinished business though, isn't there, Billy? You assigned a strapping to Dylan, so take care of that, then grab a shower together and I'll be ready for a little sexy fun with my boys, who I've being neglecting something terrible." Can I believe Billy had to tell John about the strapping part, I mean after all we've been through together today. Jesus! Billy sternly says to me, "Assume the position, boy," and I try bending over as far as I can, but with the plug up my ass I can barely reach below my knees. John says, "Be careful not to strap his plug, Billy. To be safe, strap him across the back of his thighs." Oh fuck, that's much worse than my buttocks. I want to remind Billy it's only one strapping because I apologized my way out of the second one. No, I think it's probably best I keep my mouth shut. Billy walks over to the cabinet, saying to me, "Get over here, boy, but stay in position while you're doing it." It takes me about thirty tiny steps to get over to him. John went back to drawing, seemingly not interested. Billy swings the strap watching my little awkward steps. Just anticipating strapping me, Billy's cock already looks heavy. When I'm in front of him, I turn around and he swings the strap in the air a few times, then rears back and whistles that strap through the air connecting it half way down my thighs and I screech out in a high pitched wail. Billy chuckles and as he's putting the strap away, John turns around to say, "You are such a cunt, Dylan. Maybe tomorrow we need to go through a series of three strapping's, letting you recover between each grouping of three. Toughen up your ass a little." I want to scream back at him, 'He hit the back of my fucking legs, you idiot, not my ass!' I think better of it and don't say it. The pain hammers my brain like a blacksmith hammering an anvil, and the back of my thighs continue to quiver. I'm thinking, 'Please tell me I'm in a timeout. I'm so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open'. John says to Billy, "Remind me to do that strapping exercise for Dylan first thing in the morning, Billy. We'll take turns strapping him, but for now you two take a shower and then we'll have ourselves a three-way. Leave the plugs in while you shower so you're nicely opened up for me, but don't get those collars wet." He's a sadist! He thinks I'm gonna go for a series, a fucking series, of three strapping's each. Fuck that! In the bathroom, Billy doesn't apologize for the strapping. He acts like it never happened. He says, "You use the toothbrush first, Dylan, then me. I say, "Whaddaya mean?" He goes, "All John's boys use the same toiletry items. Toothbrush, combs, hair brushes, like that. There used to be underarm deodorant stick but it finally got used up. John allows his boys this one toothbrush. Let me tell ya, it's brushed a lot of John's cum off a lot of his boy's teeth. This is the toothbrush his boys used in prep school. The same one, so Cody brushed with it along with all the rest of us over the years. John says it helps continuity and make us feel equal." What a stupid bunch of shit that is! The brush part of the toothbrush is gray and the brushes are almost all worn away. Billy says, "Better yet, you brush my teeth and then I'll brush yours. It'll be like best friends do, you know, before you become my submissive sex boy." Are these people out of their fucking minds or what? Taking a deep breath, resigned to get it over with I put toothpaste on what's left of the bristles and brush Billy's teeth with him giggling and laughing, his mouth open wide. It's all pink inside his mouth with perfectly white teeth and white minty toothpaste. His laughing gets contagious, I mean this is so stupid. Billy doesn't even put more toothpaste on to brush my teeth and I get to laughing too. I guess it is kind of silly/funny. Camaraderie, ya know. Then, in the shower he's excited about the three-way with John that's coming up and so he babbles on excitedly as he baths me and shampoos my hair. The back of my thighs still sting like fire, but the thundering pain in my brain has abated. By the time I wash Billy, shampoo all his hair for the third time today, then we get dried off and I've blown-dried his hair, by then the pain has faded entirely. As I pull Billy's hair back into a ponytail, he asks, "What style haircut should I get, Dylan?" he's just as friendly as he was before he strapped me. I guess both Billy and John have grown callus where strapping their boys is concerned. One thing I know fer sure, I'm getting out of here before the series of three strapping's takes place. I've already decided earlier today I'm not parading around almost naked on a leash tomorrow, so the earlier I can get out of here the better. I'm so tired though it's gonna be tough getting up before either of them. I'll worry about that later though. Billy says, "I asked you a question, boy." I'm trying to remember what it was, then it comes to me, and I say, "Oh, um, you'd look good with a flattop." Billy puts a finger on his lips, "Hmmm," he says, "From one extreme to the other. Yeah, maybe I will." We walk back into the studio and stand at attention as best we can with these wide dog collars around our necks and fat butt plugs up our asses. Finally John gets up from his drawing table and comes over, to say, "Get those plugs out boys so you can enjoy my big cock up your asses." As we're twisting each other's butt plugs out John's at the cabinet getting something that turns out to be leather strips, so we're going to be tied-up it appears. When our butt plugs are out and put away, I feel back at my gaping asshole and it occurs to me they never clean the butt plugs. I wonder how many asses my butt plugs have been up before mine? John walks up to Billy and ties a leather strip around Billy's elbows in such a way that it pulls both his elbows back past his ribs. Then he ties Billy's wrists together across Billy's chest. He laughs looking at Billy all tied up like that, then says, "Just getting those arms out of the way boys, and sometimes I like my boys helpless." Then to me, "Get over here Dylan and get your arms tied like Billy's." It's claustrophobic to a degree being unable to move my arms, and then there's the dog collar, but I've been tied-up a lot worse than this so I know to do repeated deep breaths until the panic sensation leaves my brain, and then I can handle it. "Get on your knees, both of you. Right next to each other. That's it, sides touching. You'll be my live double boy toy." When we're on our knees he ties our ankles together, and says, "There we go, two sex toys for John. Live ones too, and totally helpless." He ruffles my hair, then says, "I want both your mouths open wide with your tongues way out." We do that, and he says, "Keep 'em open like that until I slide my cock into your mouths. You cock suckers will know what to do then." He pulls his cock out of the pajama bottoms he's wearing and slides it on my tongue into my wide open mouth. John has the largest cock I've encountered so far in my travels. The head itself is a mouthful, but I'm an experienced cock sucker and, by the way, I don't consider being called a cock sucker an insult. I like sucking cock and a lot of other gay guys like it too, so I'm not unique in that regard. My lips and tongue do a really good job on the head of his cock and then John pushes in enough of the shaft that the bulbous head is against my gag reflex region at the back of my throat. I'm gagging as I suck with my lips then drag my lips on the thick shaft while licking the head and quite quickly his cock becomes fairly stiff. He pulls it out of my mouth and slides it into Billy's warm moist mouth on his tongue. I keep my mouth open watching Billy suck cock. I'm hoping for sloppy seconds. This sexual activity invigorates me and overrides my tiredness. Billy doesn't disappoint, making a lot of sexy slurping wet mouth sounds as he licks and sucks John's cock for the next three or four minutes. I can't help but watch as John's log of a cock gets really hard with that big vein throbbing. Pulling it from Billy's mouth, sloppy now and literally dripping with saliva, he moves it to my mouth again. I feel my cock boning up just thinking of sucking a cock after Billy's sucked on it before me. After a couple of minutes I'm the one who gets a big glob of precum on my tongue. I make a gulping sound swallowing it with my Adams apple getting stuck on my dog collar making me gag and cough. John pulls his cock out saying, "Dylan won the precum prize." Billy goes, "Not fair, John." He says, "Luck of the draw, boy, but you get to be fucked first!" For some reason he smacks the back of Billy's head, then tells Billy, "Bend forward, lean on your forehead and get that ass of yours way up." I watch Billy's body form a triangle with his forehead on the floor and his knees holding his ass up as John takes a big swing and a slaps his ass. "SLAP!" rings out in the studio leaving a hand print ion Billy's left butt cheek, but not a peep from Billy. John works up a mouthful of saliva and drools it on Billy's opened, limp anus. Butt plugs do a number on anuses. Hope we don't need to sleep with one up our ass. John teases Billy by inserting the big swollen head of his cock, then pulling it out making a wet plopping sound, then again and again and again. I'm curiously thinking, "Hmmm, John didn't even tie our nuts and cock up, just our arms and ankles. I mean, we're helpless, like he said, but we're free to cum easily too. So, I'm thinking Sonny, Ryan and others I've been with could teach John a thing or two about BDSM. It occurs to me John's winging it and not really sure what BDSM is all about. Not that that's a bad thing. He tries to act older and sophisticated, but he's only twenty and doesn't even look that old. The mystique I somehow conjured up in my head about him seems silly to me now. He's got a bit of a sadistic streak in him, and he's a bit of a bully too, but the superior aura he seemed to have in Wildwood is missing. Wonder why I thought he was so special? Fuck, it's weird the way your brain can play tricks on you. I wonder if my habit of projecting has something to do with it. All that teasing in Billy's asshole has the once limp lips of his anus actively trying to grip the head of John's cock, the muscles in Billy's butt cheeks are tightening and loosening on their own and the lips of his asshole are now actively gripping the big fat head of that hard cock. Billy's moaning constantly, so maybe stimulating his anus was John's intention all along. He's mounting Billy ass now. The head disappears and as that humongous cock disappears into Billy's ass he squirms and lets out a long moan. Billy tries moving on his forehead as John's balls are now laying against the back of Billy's scrotum and John's cock is completely inside Billy who's grunting, but not in pain so much as he seems to be loving it. John's face indicates he's feeling tons of sensations on his boner too. He grips Billy's hips almost lifting him off the floor as he blows air out through an 'O' he's made with his lips, then he begins withdrawing his big boner. It comes out shiny so Billy got John's second big gob of precum and it spread in his rectum getting all over John's cock. There goes the biggest boner I've ever seen disappearing back into Billy's rectum causing another long moan from Billy, "Aaaaah, oh my god, mmmm," and now it's all inside him again. John retracts it and drives it in again, this time John's head goes back as he lets out his own moan, "Oooooh, yeaaaah," and he begins steadily fucking Billy. With each thrust of his hips John uses he grip on the hips to pulls Billy's ass towards him. I can hear that cock slurping into Billy's bowels and the familiar sounds of males fucking, a steady, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," in and out, in and out, each time the full length of his long fat engorged organ fully entering Billy's rectum. His rectum has to be stretched to the maximum accommodating that boner. I know how good a stretched asshole can feel, especially with John's huge cock in it because he's fucked me before. Two minutes, three minutes of steady plowing Billy ass and it's one of the hottest things I've ever seen. My cock aches with tightness and I grunt to avoid moaning. I'm anxiously awaiting my turn and all other thoughts leave my mind. At this moment I'm fully in the moment, that's all I'm interested in now and I couldn't possibly stare harder at John awesomely fucking cute Billy's cute ass. His ass looks small compared to the log of cock fucking it. That boned-up cock looks even bigger now, longer and fatter from the sensations on it stimulating more erectile fluid to join the party. John and Billy groan and moan with the shiny piston disappearing up Billy's ass right before my eyes. Billy's fat boner pokes straight out from his body so tight it barely moves as Billy's body is battered from John slamming into his ass. Precum from Billy's cock drips off the head with each drive of that big cock up his ass. The force of the thrusts moves Billy forward slightly each time their bodies slam together. Finally John pulls that big ass boner out of Billy ass with precum and ass juices connecting the head of his boner to the lips of Billy's ass. Billy limply rolls over on his side, his ass facing me and my eyes get big because his asshole is opened so wide I can look up it and see wetness from John's precum. John's breathing hard as he swings his arm and "SMACK!!" against my ass knocking me over. Another, "SMACKS!!" of his open hand with him grunting, "Get up, you cunt." I struggle back up as he pushes my head forward and I go down on my forehead sticking my ass up as far as I can. He grips my hips and the head of his cock spreads my already butt-plug-opened anus wider and wider until the head gets past my sphincter and I yelp at the pain. It's not overbearing, but it gets that way as that sloppy boner presses further and further into my rectum. I know this huge cock has just come from being up Billy's ass and that thought is so sexy to me my shoulders do their shudder and it helps the hurt inside me more bearable. My rectum stretches and stretches as the swollen head of John's boner makes it's way inside me. I hear John grunt, "Ummm, aaah," and his hairy groin is flat against my buttocks. Then he leans in hard against me and as I feel his big nuts laying against the back of my scrotum, I moan, "Ooooooh, umm, umm, fuck me, John." He withdraws still grunting and I feel him shake as sensations must be exploding from his hard penis to the pleasure center in his brain. Out it comes and then right back in with me embarrassing my self for the hundredth time moaning like it's my first time getting fucked up the ass. Compared to Billy, John's right, I am a pussy. He grips my hips tighter and begins steadily fucking my ass and I'm delirious with powerful pleasure sensations from my anus, prostate, and rectum in general. It all combines along with my super sensitive throbbing cock to black out everything else in the universe except that cock in my ass and my boner. His grip on my hips is very tight as he pulls me into his thrusts forcefully. It quick, "Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds until I hear a squeal from myself that's so embarrassing my face turns red as my cock pumps out semen from my balls like I'm pissing it out. A strong stream of cum splashes off the hard wood floor spraying my thighs and I can't hear, see, or feel anything for a few seconds of an out of body type of experience, and then everything comes rushing back to me and I squeal again which gets me another smack on my ass. Then John pulls out and I collapse on the floor facing Billy, who's back up on his forehead and knees, his eyes wide staring at me. I don't know how long he was watching me, but he wants more for himself as he pushes his ass up in the air every second or so like an engine being revved in neutral. There's precum drooling from John's boner as it disappears again up Billy's ass and he moans almost as much as I did, which makes me feel a little better. The awesome sensation of orgasm are zipping around my groin making me shake a little, but I'm feeling really good. Then another shoulder shudder. Billy fucked me with his Prince Albert cock and just now I was fucked with the biggest boner I've ever seen, so I've had few better days getting fucked. I take a deep breath and it my turn watching Billy getting fucked, but now it's not nearly as arousing as the first time. My anticipation was so high and I was so sexually aroused then, now I don't have the desperate sexual need I felt from watching those two fuck the first time. I'm not saying I'm not intrigued watching Billy get fucked, it's now more a curiosity then anything sexual. I'm totally sexually satisfied at the moment and the tiredness is overtaking me again too. When I hear a high pitched squeal my eyes snap open and I see Billy's hips humping forward with a wild spray of cum sputtering from his boner. His PA and that other doodad pierced in the head of his cock look extra painful in a cock head as hard as Billy's, and the PA caused the spraying effect when the cum shoots out. I felt that spray of cum up my ass too. John apparently had his climax before Billy because when his cock comes out of that wide open asshole cum comes with it. Lots of cum so I guess John never did get around to fucking Cody the second time. Billy's still moaning quietly, but it's a contented satisfied moan, almost a whimper. John lifts me to my knees, saying, "Mouth open," and I do that, but my hearts not in it. I suck on his cock cleaning some of that sloppy goop off his cock and Billy cleans the rest off. Taking a deep breath John steps back stroking his softening cock, asking, "Are my boys taken care of now?" Billy says, "Oh yeah, John, you fuck good," so what the fuck, I say it too because he does fuck good, but I've totally had enough of his act. Except for one or two things he hasn't been horrible, but he just does 't do it for me anymore and I don't think that's because of one single thing, but a lot of little things. I've just lost my interest in him. John unties us and rubs both our heads giving us compliments about our asses, then telling us we're the cutest things he's ever seen. Dom's do that. They build you up and then humiliate you in one way or another. I don't know why I like it and at this moment I don't. I want to get out of here. Maybe this weekend has cured me of my interest in sub/dom matters... maybe. John's patting our backs and giving our shoulders affectionate squeezes, but we're all pretty tired and that hot sex takes more than a little energy so everyone's ready for bed. Billy puts the leather strips away and John tells me to clean all the spunk up off the floor. He shows me where the cleaning stuff is and as I'm doing that, I'm wondering if I should tell John I've had enough, or just leave unannounced. I decide to just leave and I'm going to do it tonight as soon as I'm sure there're asleep. John's getting cleaned up in the bathroom, then I hear his electric toothbrush. He's comes out and Billy and I go in. We clean each others asses and I get to clean his hot legs of the cum that's drooled out of his ass, then we wash our face and hands, all without talking. Billy does gives me a few smiles and a squeeze at the back of my neck, then kisses me. I'll miss him I guess, but who knows, maybe we will have one or two dates. We brush our own teeth this time using that disgusting toothbrush depositing a little more of John's cum on the bristles. Out in the studio again I ask Billy, "What are the sleeping arrangements?" John hears me, and says, "You sleep on your mat by the bathroom, Billy and I sleep in my bed." That's fine with me since I'm not sleeping anyway. Not here I'm not. I'm planning on sleeping in my car for a few hours and then driving away from New York City. It's had a few highlights, but over all it hasn't been great. Fuck it, I gave it a try and there was some hot sex, but I don't need to come to New York just for that. John says hold your wrist out," and as I do that, I ask, "Why... um," and he puts plastic cufflinks on me, explaining, "It's just routine, Dylan. We wouldn't want you sneaking away in the night and missing your strapping training in the morning. It'll be a hard morning for you, but the rest of the day will be grand with you at the end of a leash with Billy making all the old queers drool. Beautiful weather predicted for tomorrow too." I look at my handcuffs totally shocked at this unexpected turn of events. Then I think, "Strapping training? He was serious about a series of three strapping's each? You gotta be kidding me. John says, "Lay down now, Dylan, and no more talking of any kind or we'll start that strapping training right now." He's not serious, is he? I lay down as they get in bed with sighs. The light goes off and after some rustling around they're still. After a big silent yawn, I take my dog collar off with my heart beating fast. It isn't easy getting it off because my hands are handcuffed together and they get in each others way. Plus, I need to tighten the collar even tighter to get the eye of the buckle out of the hole it's in. I manage though and what a relief getting that thing off. The handcuff are tight on my wrists so I can't get my hands free, but fuck that. I need to get out of here. I'm naked of course so I can't leave like this. I wait an agonizing half hour fighting off sleep and when their breathing is regular I take that as an indication they're both asleep. Tip toeing to the closet where Billy put my clothes, seemingly a week ago instead of yesterday morning. They're here, so I bundle them up and quietly tip toe to the front door. It doesn't make a sound opening, but the hallway light pours into the room so I step outside quickly, and then carefully close the door. A subtle click tells me it's locked. Looking up and down the hall, it's empty this early in the morning. It's almost four in the morning. Getting my shorts on is a test with my handcuffed hands. I can't get my t-shirt or socks on, but I've got my untied sneakers on and my underpants and shorts on, so with my shirt and socks under my arm I head for the elevator, and hear a door open and somebody yell something. My head snaps around but the door must be around the corner because there's no open doors that I can see. The elevator takes it's sweet time getting here as I stare at the studio door. It remains closed and in the elevator I giggle at being free and then I laugh thinking what they'll say when they see I'm gone. Nobody's in the lobby so it's all good so far, but stepping out side, believe it or not, there are a surprising number of cars, and lots of trucks, whizzing by in the city that never sleeps. I think that's New York City. It's still pitch black so a guy walking down the street without a shirt, who's handcuffed and walking in untied sneakers, might go unnoticed. This one did. At the Jeep I have a hard time getting the key out of my pocket and then I'm in my car and a few tears roll down my face. I was a fool for coming here, but get a grip! I start the car and do a u-turn heading back the way I came. Before the George Washington bridge there a place to pull over, which I do and get out to open the trunk space, such as it is in our Jeep. I need something to get these handcuffs off me. Tossing stuff around I find gold. It's my Swiss army knife, the one Chubby gave me last year as one of our Christmas exchange gifts. I've been wondering where the fuck this has been for like eight months. Some more tears roll down my face as thinking how Chubby's helping me without even knowing it. I've gone twenty-four hours without sleep so I'm a little overly emotional. This is a small version of the traditional Swiss Army knife, but it still has about six different utensils in it. I need the knife blade, but opening this with my hands handcuffed is a challenge. It's a challenge I undertake in the Jeep. I manage to open the nail file which is no fucking help... fuck! It had to be the nail file! Five minutes later I get the littler of the two blades opened. It's sharp as a razor, but it still takes five minutes of sawing to separate my hands. It was awkward because my hands are together. I raise my arms and massage my neck that's free of that fucking dog collar. Ryan's dog collar looks like a necklace almost. John's looked like what the cab driver thought it was. A medical neck brace to prevent neck movement. I take a minute to call myself an asshole for getting myself in this mess, and then I put my shirt and socks on, tie my sneakers, put the Jeep in gear, and drive triumphantly across the bridge and out of New York City. At the first roadside joint that's open for business I buy black coffee and dump in many sugars as the old guy who served me stares at my matching strange bracelets. I'll drink the coffee as I drive. It's bitter and almost too sweet to drink, but I treat it like medicine. The radio's on and I sing as loud as I can with the songs, mostly singing the wrong words, but it keeps me awake and so do the slaps to my face I give myself. I'm also chain smoking in the car which will piss off my brother, but this is an emergency situation here. Staying awake is essential and next in importance is paying attention to my driving. I planned to sleep in one of the rest areas along the highway, but reconsidered that, feeling there's potential danger there with me being alone and all. I'm going straight through, but wait a second... where the fuck am I going? I can't show up at home like this. Fuck it, I'll worry about that later, just get in Massachusetts and then decide what to do. Route 84 goes on fucking forever it seems and I could scream, so I do. Eventually I see a sign for the Mass Pike and I allow myself a few more tears of relief. I'm still more then an hour or so from Framingham, but do I even want to go there? What will my explanation be? Chubby wouldn't need one, but the moms might be slightly concerned if they see me in this condition with a plastic bracelet around each of my wrists, bracelets that look suspiciously like two halves of plastic handcuffs. Then I curse that fraud John and hate on him for a few miles, but it's my fault. He just did what he said he'd do only he did it poorly, very fucking poorly, John. Ten strapping's for you! Okay, I'm losing it here. Get a grip, Dylan. Driving on the Mass Pike for a few minutes I'm looking for the overpriced food court with lousy food that appear every now and again along the Mass Pike. There always in conjunction with gas stations. There it is so I pull in and park, then look at the two parts of the handcuffs on my wrists. I do not need some curious cop killing time in there drinking coffee and eating donuts to notice these doodads on my wrists. He might feel he should asks questions about my choice of bracelets. Hmmm? I'll go in and scout out the place. You know, see if there's vending machines that I can grab a candy bar and get out quick without interacting with anyone. Inside, of course there are vending machines, but I don't see a cop. So far so good. What the fuck, I use the bathroom for a much needed piss, then decide I'll get some sustenance at one of the restaurants in this food court. Well, Dunkin' Donuts is the only one open at seven-thirty in the morning, so I'll use that one... duh. I get a breakfast sandwich and another coffee. The counter lady doesn't even look at me, never mind look at my wrists. Back in the Jeep I eat the microwaved sandwich without tasting it as I'm forming a plan in my head. My brilliant plan is to call Cory and see if he wants to go bowling. It's a little early to be calling so I get the Jeep filled with gas because it always feels good having a full tank of gas. Then it's a thirty-five minute drive to route 495 where I get off the Mass Pike and head towards North Andover going North on 495. In about forty-five minutes I drive into North Andover second guessing myself about calling Cory. It's quarter to nine now and I'm not thinking straight so I pull into a parking spot at a convenience store that's open twenty-four hours a day. It's hard to think because I'm both wired and tired. After not coming up with a better plan, and worried I'll fall asleep right here if I don't do something, I finally call Cory on my cell phone. He comes on during the second ring sounding excited, "Hi, Dylan. I've missed you." I'm crying again because I'm so fucking tired and I've done something inexcusably stupid by going to New York in the first place, and then in the second place driving from New York City without sleep for the last thirty hours. What's wrong with me? Goddammit! Cory says, "Dylan, is that you?" Getting myself under control as best I can, I say simply, "I need you're help, Cory." He says, "Yes, anything. What is it? Where are you?" That's so fucking sweet, more tears come down my face. He said 'yes, anything'. Okay, fuck it, I'm crying again. He asks, "Um, are you crying, Dylan?" I say, "Yes, I'm crying. Um, I'm in North Andover. Can I stay at your house? I've been awake since quarter to four yesterday morning." There's silence, then, "What? Why? Oh, never mind that now. Of course you can stay here. We moved. Do you have a GPS?" I say, "No. Plus I can hardly remember my name, so I probably couldn't follow whatever directions you'd give me." He goes, "Meet me at Stop and Shop," and hangs up. I take a deep breath and light another cigarette, then throw it out the window and drive up route 114 past Merrimack College to the Stop and Shop and park sideways across two parking spots. Someone's tapping on my window with a key or something. What the fuck? Opening my eyes I see Cory. Guess I fell asleep with the Jeep still running. Huh. Putting down the window I gawk at him, then say, "Hi, Cory." He looks shocked, then asks, "Are you drunk?" I shake my head, "Not now, I'm not. I have a wicked hangover though that, um, I just noticed now." He says, "Follow me." I almost get out of the Jeep to follow him because I'm so fucking glad to see a friendly familiar face. Cory gets in his mom's shitbox car though so... oh, follow his car, huh. A thought slides through my brain involving a series of three strapping's each. Fuck you, John! As I follow Cory I'm telling myself all the way, 'Don't fall asleep now asshole, you're almost there.' He parks on the street of this rundown neighborhood and I park behind him. Getting out of the car I almost fall down. He asks, "What's on your wrists?" I wave my hand at him, mumbling, "I'll tell ya later. Can I sleep somewhere?" He says, "Yeah, in my bed. Let's go." I follow him into the apartment building and happily, for Cory's sake, it doesn't look as run down inside as it looked outside. We go up the elevator with a very concerned expression showing on Cory's face, so I try to smile, but it doesn't feel like a smile and a random tear rolls down my cheek, and now he looks scared. Down the hall we go, Cory patting and rubbing my back lightly. The poor kid isn't sure what to do, I guess. We stop at a door, and while Cory takes out his key, I lean against the wall trying not to fall asleep. Inside the apartment, he says, "My mom's went to church with her friend," and I stare at him stupidly, then mumble, "Church." He leads me into the bathroom, helps me get out of my clothes except for my boxer shorts, then points a my nip ring, asking, "What's that?" I shake my head, muttering, "I'll tell ya later, okay?" Then I just stand here totally out of it, my head aching and my stomach churning from the coffee and cigarettes. I can't even thank him. He uses a wash cloth to wash my face and hands. I plop down on the lid of the toilet thinking about nothing. Cory says, "Your breath smells like an ashtray, open your mouth." I do that and for the second time in the last six or seven hours someone brushes my teeth for me. I've done that for Chubby when he's been drunk a couple of time. "Rinse out, Dylan." Somehow I stand and take the cup of water from Cory and rinse my mouth. There was mouthwash in the water. Fresh breath, you know. Cory gives me three Tylenol that I swallow with the rest of the water and mouthwash combination. Cory leads me to his small bedroom and gets me under the covers. The room is air conditioned cool, and this bed just became my favorite bed in the world. Cory strips to his jockey shorts and gets in bed with me, putting his arms around me and hugging me against him with both his skinny arms, and that feels so wonderful more tears run down my cheek. Cory says very quietly, "It'll be okay, Dylan, I'm gonna take care of you," and those are the last words I hear before falling into a deep, deep sleep. to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com Please consider a tax deductible contribution to nonprofit Nifty to help offset the expenses of maintaining this large site.