Date: Sun, 22 Oct 2017 10:15:27 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Maybe Next Time 8

See original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/maybe-next-time/)
for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved.
Includes *BULLYING* and *ABUSIVE SEX* between male teens and between teens
and adult males, many of them related. Go away if any of that is against
your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like,
but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty
TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming. You should
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you already give them.

*****

He turned to me, his voice disappointed and deeply sad. "You *have* learned
your lesson, haven't you? We won't be having any more such episodes,
right?" I nodded, horrified and shaking, physically ill. "Good, let's get
you cleaned up, son, and ready for dinner. Tyler, Quinten will be by in a
bit to apply some salve and get you ready as well. I'm sorry that your
first day home included this little incident. But at least you're away from
the satanic horror that is my brother."

*****
Maybe Next Time 8: Master of the Keep

By Bear Pup

Special note: With this chapter, the story begins to include heavily-racist
language and behaviors that are not usual to what I write. This is a pretty
monstrous story anyway, but that part is new. You've been warned.

*****

I was still crying steadily as Gary scooped me up and carried me out of the
room and up the remaining flight of the staggered-log staircase. "Jeeves,
what is the temperature of the tub right now, please?"

"The Roman Tub in the Master Bath is at 38°, sir. Is that the tub you
meant?"

"Yes. Jeeves, raise that to 44° and add my soothing mix, please."

"I am raising the temperature of the Roman Tub in the Master Bath to 44°
Celsius and adding Mixture 7, sir. Please let me know if you intended
another tub or another scale, sir. If correct, the tub should be at
temperature in... nine minutes, sir."

"We'll get you a nice hot bath," he cooed to me, "and you'll feel much
better, Kyle. I just hate to see you so upset, but you do have to learn,
you know." We reached the top of the grand staircase and, as we approached,
a massive double-door to the right opened onto a room that stole my tears
in a wash of wonderment.

At the far end, a complete wall of glass looked south over the valley and
to a vista of magnificent, snow-capped peaks. The walls were entirely of
wood as was the floor and incredibly-tall, peaked ceiling. Several huge
rugs of creamy fur dotted the floors. A huge stone column rose up directly
in front of us and two enormous closets flanked the entrance. As we went
past them, the room opened out to the right and Gary sat me on a mammoth
bed, far larger than Pop's king-sized one. Gary shucked off his jock, but I
was still trying to wrap my head around what he called a bedroom. "Sit here
for a moment, baby. I'll set stuff out and be right back.

What had looked edge-on like a thick stone column was actually a massive
fireplace with a hearth at least four feet wide and tall, faced by an array
of sumptuous leather chairs. Next to it was a door into a stone-tiled
expanse I assumed was the bathroom. Between the bed and the window-wall was
a dining set with a glass-topped table supported by a twisted,
multi-trunked log and flanked by two simple and elegant chairs. Behind it,
a floor-to-ceiling bookcase sported pieces of art, sculpture and a
well-stocked bar as well as more books than I'd seen outside the school
library.

Gary startled me when he padded back into the room and picked me up. "Come
on, baby, let's get you soaking, okay?" The bathroom was
mind-boggling. Just inside, the fireplace from the bedroom was mirrored
with one here, sharing the flue. As with the bedroom, one wall was entirely
windows. That end of the room was encased in its own glass-walled enclosure
at least ten feet deep. A gargantuan sunken tub occupied one side, the lip
of which was perhaps a foot above the smoothed-stone floor.  That lip was
continued as a shower bench around the entire enclosure under a bewildering
array of faucets and heads.

Next to the interior wall of glass was a booth the function of which I
could not imagine. A long counter with sinks lined the exterior wall with
tall narrow windows piercing through to the outside between the expansive
mirrors. Other than the walls, every surface was the color of the Rocky
Mountains, grey and rust and silver, some glossy like the counters and
others rough like the floor. The space was so magnificent that the thought
of a toilet in it seem incongruous; I'd find later that the W/C included a
bidet and was tucked behind a door next to the sinks.

Without setting me down, Gary walked into the glass enclosure and down a
set of steps into the incredible tub. I yelped when the water first lapped
against my ass. It was HOT! That sensation vanished like magic as Gary
floated me there, the heat melting away all the tension in my body as he
got out and ministered to me from the tub's lip.

In the space of moments, I went from the knot of tension I'd endured as
long as I could recall to a near transcendental state of relaxation. It was
like being physically reborn. I moaned aloud and didn't notice. I mean, I
never thought about it, but I guess I'd lived my life in a state of
perpetual strain, muscles always ready to flee or react to something,
usually my tyrannical brother or my mercurial father. What Gary had done to
me earlier, both the mind-blowing pleasure of what he did to my body and
the soul-shredding pain of what he made me do to Tyler, should have made it
worse. Some magic in this water, though, something in the heat and the
scent and the silky feel, undid it all.

I don't think I really heard him cooing and verbally-petting me as I sighed
and moaned and gasped at the myriad sensations. "That's it, Kyle. Let the
water do its work. Let the special salts and scents and medicines take it
all away." He laved the water gently over me and made sure I was completely
coated and utterly calmed. I barely registered when his hands began to soap
and caress me, rubbing a grey paste firmly into my skin that simply
dissolved without leaving any visible change in the water. Even when Gary
started to cleanse my ass and cock, I hardly stirred, the languid sensation
overwhelming me and leaving my dick chubbed and very happy, but not like
being "sexed up" or anything.

Eventually, he lifted me free of the tub and helped me stand. I was so
relaxed that I was woozy. He chuckled and guided me into the mysterious
glass box, having me grab hold of a pair of bars set high on each
side-wall. He stepped back and let the door close. "Jeeves, dry and scan
Kyle Volker, please."

A weird hurricane of hot, dry air swirled and massaged me from every
angle. I vaguely heard Jeeves reply, "Drying commences. Scanning Kyle
Volker for storage and recognition, sir." Now, when I said 'every' angle, I
included somehow penetrating the crack of my ass, blow-drying my
(admittedly skimpy) bush and even getting under and beside my balls. I
stepped out, completely dazed, and felt Gary finish drying me with a warm,
fluffy cloud that only looked like a towel. NOTHING made of physical
material could feel like that!

I was in a complete haze as Gary picked me up again and carried me back
down to the second level. The doors seemed to simply open and close
themselves since Gary never had to reach for a doorknob. In fact, the doors
didn't seem to have any at all. I wondered why I never noticed that before.

"Uncle, um, sir? How do the doors work?" I should have been alarmed at the
dazed, fuzzy sound of my own voice, but was far too comfortable to worry
about, well, anything. My uncle smiled down at me.

"Jeeves again, my sweet baby. Any door that lets onto someplace you're
allowed to be will open in time for you to pass through and close behind
you."

We entered a bright, tiled space and I found Quinten standing over Tyler
with a towel. The guy had seemed so very large when I saw him on the
stairs, but now? Standing over Tyler gave the man's enormous frame
scale. Quinten had to be at least six-nine or more. The rugged tan,
bull-wide shoulders, thick muscles and a heavy pelt of dark fur on his
chin, chest, arms and legs screamed MAN, as did the pendulous cock and
low-hanging balls. The fact that he was shaved bald made his hairy face and
body seem even more powerful and manly. This close, I noticed several other
things.

Something very large, wide and bright-silver encircled the base of his cock
behind the balls, pushing his manhood forward and there was a thick, black
bar through each of his nipples. Both of his ears sported a semicircle of
gemstones. His left ear held clear stones -- diamonds, I later learned --
starting with a small one (like the stone in a woman's engagement ring) in
the upper shell of his ear. The stones gradually increased in size to the
"normal" earring spot in the lobe where one the size of a peanut
gleamed. His right ear held a literal rainbow. I later found out that the
stones were, from top to bottom, garnet, ruby, amber, citrine, emerald,
aquamarine, star sapphire and the deepest, darkest true sapphire I would
ever see.

He shifted as he dried a thoroughly blissed-out Tyler and I gasped. Poking
from the tip of his meaty foreskin was a black-metal hoop set with a black
fire-opal that flashed and blazed with angry golds and reds. The very
concept of poking a hole in my dick should have sent ice down my spine, but
the floating sensation simply washed it away. That more than anything
should have terrified me. Something was very, very wrong, but I just
couldn't care.

Gary sat me carefully on a bench-seat in the shower, one very similar to
Gary's own but the bench seemed to have four deeply-inset sinks along
it. "Quinten, please prep Kyle as well."

"Of course, sir." It was the first time I had heard his voice. It was soft,
like far-off thunder, but so deep that it made me think of dark
caves... and what lurked in the back of them. "Do you want him locked,
sir?"

I noticed then that Tyler's cock was unlocked. I looked to my brother's
face and he was simply breathing deeply, contentedly, utterly
unconcerned. "No, Quinten, just Tyler." At the sound of his name, my
brother turned to look at Gary and sighed deeply, happily. "I have a couple
calls to make. Sydney is up and Kyoto is about to come online. I need some
status updates on the Krakatoa module. Dinner at six thirty. Keep them
occupied. Oh, and don't worry about Maliq. I'll have him in with me."
Gary's words flowed over me softly as he left.

Quinten guided Tyler next to me. "Now that the medicinal baths have had a
chance to do their work, you're nice and relaxed, which is good. The next
part is needful, but also unpleasant. It helps if you're relaxed like
this." His voice was a purring rumble that felt like big cuddly bear that,
in an instant, could turn into a mankiller. He was right, though, I would
have freaked completely if it had been chemically possible for me to do so.

"Prep" meant cleaning us out, my first encounter with an enema. The "sinks"
on the bench were designed for the purpose with flexible hosing and rinsing
nozzles. I'm not sure which upset me more, the sensation, the smell or the
look of supreme indifference and even enjoyment on Tyler's clearly-drugged
countenance. My brother didn't even object (much) when Quinten locked his
cock away. He frowned like a toddler who'd been told "NO!" in a loud voice,
his entire face getting into the action, but nothing more.  The final step
was a quick rinse in the shower which seemed to revive Tyler a little and
some of the cobwebs began to clear for me as well.

Quinten dried us, again with towels made of cloud-stuff, and led us down
the hallway to an oddly-ornate and very out of place double-door with
curly, grand script of embossed gold reading, "Curtis Street".

"All of us are really too young to know it," Quinten purred as the doors
opened for us, "but Curtis Street in Denver was the home of some of the
grandest Movie Palaces between the Mississippi River and California
itself. Mister Gary and your own father went to one of the last not long
before it was razed. Even the building they tore The Baroness down to build
didn't last. There's a skyscraper there now."

As soon as we passed through the doorway, the rustic grandeur of the rest
of the house vanished, replaced by flowing lines and saturated hues I'd
come to know later in life as Art Nouveau. An enormous screen was
surrounded by delicate iron fretwork in front of contrasting, flowing
shapes painted on the wall behind. It dominated the room. The ironwork and
the murals seemed to grow organically up and across the ceiling as well,
creating a sort of grotto with the screen as its sanctum.

Three rows of seats ranked back from that screen. The seats were a bit like
overstuffed recliners, a bit like loungers and more than a bit like beds
with plentiful cushions and pillows, as if designed to snuggle into. The
seats themselves were of some fabric of swirling patterns in midnight-blue
on a background of the deepest emerald green, with the cushions and pillows
the reverse. Quinten pulled us to the front-most and pulled us together,
making a little nest of pillows. Tyler sighed so deeply you could feel the
air move, even as my own torpor seemed to be fading slightly.

"Kyle, you and your brother have seen Avatar, correct?" I nodded
excitedly. "Not like this. Jeeves, play Jake's Adventure in Plank-Saarland
Parallax, please."

"Certainly, sir. One moment while I replace the screen for P-S Parallax." A
whir sounded and the screen tilted forward until it was flat and slid back
into a recess, replaced by another, slightly-smaller one. Both Tyler and I
jumped and turned as the whole room rumbled to the thwop-thwop-thwop of the
Scorpion gunship moving over us. When we turned back, Jake Sully was
jumping down and moving off with Grace and Norm.

The screen simply... didn't exist. In front of us WAS Pandora. It was 3D
without glasses, and with a level of definition that stripped away any
conscious realization that a movie was playing. Both Tyler and I reached
out more than once to be really, really sure that we couldn't actually
touch the spiral plants or one of the whirling lizard-things that flew
past. I nearly wet myself when the thanator roared and from then on, we
were immersed in the sound and fury of Jake's plight. The fight with the
viperwolves nearly killed me, and the seed-things from Eywa left me
breathless.

Throughout, Quinten's hands were on my body, soothing, petting and
caressing me. He had me panting almost as much as the movie, and each time
his arm-fur brushed against my leaking cock, I had to bite my lip to keep
from moaning. I looked over in a lull and saw Tyler quivering as Quinten
tweaked and teased his nipples. I looked down and saw that huge, black ring
glinting clearly; Quinten was hard enough that the entire head of his very
large cock protruded from his meaty sheath and the fire opal caught the
flashes from the movie. The outtake closed when Jake curled into the
feathery hammock-pod, ready to awaken in the lab and his own crippled body.

Tyler and I both turned to Quinten and started babbling in excitement. He
was right; it was unlike anything we had ever experienced. Quinten laughed
with us as we talked over each other.

Jeeves spoke up. "Would you care for another recording, sir?"

"What is the time, Jeeves?"

"It is five-eighteen, sir."

"Remind me the runtime for Zootopia in the P-S Parallax version, please?"

"Ninety-four minutes plus eight for the extended dance sequence."

"Perfect! Play that, please."

Zootopia had been a favorite of mine since I first pirated it online. I
didn't actually know if Tyler had seen it, but I knew for certain that
neither of us had ever seem it like that! You could see the individual
hairs on Nick's muzzle and the flow of the muscles under the fur of
Gazelle's tiger-man dancers. It seemed that whomever did the work took
extraordinary care with those, actually, and Quinten kept up a lively
assault on my cock and balls when they strutted and writhed on the screen,
the very essence of male sexuality. He was masterful, though, keeping me
inflamed but nowhere near to orgasm. When the movie ended with a very long
and sexual dance sequence, the lights rose slowly, dragging us gradually
back to the splendor of the miniature movie palace.

"Up, now. Both of you." Quinten's voice was soft and pleasant, but also
firm. "We cannot keep your uncle waiting for his dinner. It isn't done." He
helped us to our feet and I noticed that Tyler was red-faced and panting
just as I was. Quinten was apparently a master as keeping a boy right THERE
and desperate for more. He led us out the door and back into the rustic
world of the cabin at large.

We descended the staircase to the main level and went through a door to a
dining room of what I can only call rural elegance. The shapes and lines
were simple and everything was in lustrous wood-tones or the
glinting-greyness of stone. A very long, low, shallow hearth crackled with
flames erupting from a sea of river rocks. The table could easily sit ten,
but only six places were set, three across from three. A tubby, cuddly
little man was fussing about with several covered trays as we came in. I
tried not to laugh as I realized that he was clad in nothing but an apron
and his bubbly ass shook like Jell-O when he moved.

From another door came Gary, leading a mocha-skinned young man of, perhaps,
seventeen or eighteen years. He was built like a husky basketballer or a
football receiver -- not overly muscled or gross, but thick and strong. He
glanced at us and I saw a glimmer of something before he looked straight
down. Like Tyler, he was also caged, but his included some sort of metal
case around his balls as well. He also sported a wide, tight collar made of
thick links of chain, bright gold against his silky, dusky skin.

Gary sat in a middle seat and I was directed to his right and Tyler to his
left. The black kid was in the middle across from Gary flanked by Quinten
and the guy I assumed was the cook, who reached out just before he sat and
uncovered a soup and dished it out to the diners.

"So," Gary started, "we always start with talking to each of my wards about
what they learned in their schooling. Since Kyle and Tyler didn't have much
school today, I think you'll need to fill in, Maliq."

The black kid never looked up from his bowl and his voice shook a
little. He spoke as he took small spoonsful of the creamy, succulent
soup. "Today was Calculus, Literature and American History. In Calc, we
started non-Euclidian geometry which is hard to really get my head around,"
he rushed to add the next as if genuinely scared, "but I'm getting there. I
really am. Mr. Jeffords said I'm doing really well." He shot the barest
flicker of a glance at Gary. I looked over and saw that my uncle had a very
stern look.

"Um, L-L-L-Lit is still Gone with the Wind. We're discussing the value and
misperception of slavery. Specifically, we're studying Mammy right now, and
how important that was for both the whites and the niggers." I spun toward
his voice so quickly I kinked my neck.

Gary noticed and spoke softly to Maliq. "I see that Kyle doesn't
understand. My nephews are both products of the public miseducation
system. Explain why that's important, boy." The little cuddly-bear of the
cook cleared the soup and dished out an entrée of beef tips and
mushrooms with some sort of rice dish that had long, black grains as well
as brown rice and pasta alongside a veggie-medley of corn and beans that
was amazing.

Maliq explained to his plate. "As a nigger, it's important that I
understand how and why my race was fostered by the white men who saved us
from the poverty and ignorance of African tribal life." He squirmed a
little as he said this, but I could tell he had come to believe it. He ate
sparingly as he spoke, making sure never to pause very long. "Slavery is
the natural condition for certain groups, including niggers like me and the
monkey-people like spics and red-dots and rag-heads. Every successful
culture for seven thousand years has recognized the importance of slavery
as the only way to protect and nurture the inferior races and help them
live full and complete lives." A large piece of beef fell out of my gaping
mouth and I jumped to replace it and continue eating.

"Well-phrased, boy. Very well-phrased. If I recall, Miss Olivero is tying
it into the American History lessons as well?"

"Yes, sir. We're learning about the industrial North and how they had
envied the prosperity of the agricultural South's far-superior system. It's
why the Southern States fought so hard against the Federal Reserve in the
1780s, because the North was bankrupt and the South, with the integration
of slave power into their economy, had no debt at all. It was simple theft
of the wealth built by niggers like my ancestors and the whites who
nurtured them. That feeling of entitled rage festered throughout the
nineteenth century until a sudden industrial boom in the 1850s briefly made
it possible for the Northern States to conquer the South."

"But why?" I was floored at this interpretation of history, a saga
completely at odds with everything I'd been taught!

"Well, envy, greed and class warfare, mostly." Maliq was thoughtful but
confident. "Even before the revolution, just two Southern states had more
net wealth than the entire Northern tier. The North knew that they could
never catch up on a fair footing, and the Constitution made it impossible
legally do anything about it. So, basically, Lincoln and his new Republican
party escalated the assaults on the South until it was clearly unbearable,
giving him the excuse he needed to illegally raise a national army. They
took what they could and destroyed the rest. Other than Texas with the oil,
no Southern state has ever really recovered."

The cook bustled out a salad which surprised me; salads came at the
beginning, didn't they? I stayed silent as Maliq continued. He looked at
me, genuinely wanting me to understand. "Under the guise of 'freeing' the
slaves, Lincoln and his Republican cabal consigned niggers like me and my
ancestors to a century and a half of poverty and oppression the likes of
which were seen only on the worst plantations... or in Northern fiction."

"And who ran the plantations that were so completely evil, boy?" Gary's
voice was... quietly proud.

"Nearly all of them were owned by Jews and run by Irish
overlords. Legitimate master races treated slaves like the
incredibly-valuable property we were; only the degenerates treated us
niggers like cattle or worse. And even today, there are few truly-free
niggers outside those who excel in sports and entertainment, both of which
were bred into us as gifts from our white masters. It's a pretty sad story,
really, the rape of the South and the destruction of the only real hope
niggers had for a better life, all because of greed and envy." He shook his
head sadly

"Jeeves, remind me tomorrow to call Miss Olivero and extend my gratitude."

"Yes, sir. Reminder set."

"And, boy, you have earned a reward." Maliq looked up in flat-out
astonished joy.

"Really?"

Gary smiled warmly. "Absolutely. That was a superb summary of the
degradation of the niggers by Northern greed, the best that I've heard in a
long time. I will have to think of something suitably wonderful. Was there
anything else from school today?"

The boy's eyes fell instantly and he said, "No, sir," very quietly. Gary
looked at him for a long moment then turned the conversation to us as the
cook cleared everything and brought in a frozen dessert that was something
between a custard and a pie. He had us summarize where we were on various
subjects and made several notes to Jeeves about classes and such.

"Um, sir? Wh-Wh-Wh-Wh-Where does Maliq go to school?" I asked

"Oh! I never thought to mention. You, like Maliq, will be schooled here. We
used distance learning. I and a number of other parents and foster-parents
have developed a very strong curriculum and all our boys join the classes."

"J-J-Just boys?"

"Of course. Another of the liberal myths is the idea that men and women
think and learn the same way. It's just not true and never has
been. Single-sex education is the only rational way to teach." I flicked a
glance to Tyler who had lost the glazed, drugged look as he ate. "And, of
course, it's the only possible way to effectively bring a youth to manhood.

"Speaking of which..." Gary turned to Tyler who looked up at him with
considerable caution. "...when did you last ejaculate, Tyler?" My brother's
face was so comical I would have laughed if I hadn't been as gobsmacked as
he was by the question. "The last shown on your monster-dad's video was on
Saturday when your brother," he reached over and smiled at me, tousling my
hair, "sucked you damned near dry! So, was that the last time you
released?"

Finally realizing that he might, just might, finally get some relief, Tyler
nearly babbled. "Yes, sir. That was the l-l-l-l-last. And before that it
was a w-w-w-w-week?"

Quinten coughed. "Completely unhealthy."

"I absolutely agree," my uncle intoned in a very serious voice. "Boys your
age must not be allowed to build up that kind of pressure. Sure, after you
are in your twenties, the body's own mechanisms vent unneeded sperm and
seminal fluid, but not at your age. You can seriously harm yourself. My
monstrous brother deserves far worse than prison." He sighed and brought
three bright-blue... things onto the table.

Each was sleek, all curves and protuberances. One end was a round ring
attached to a four- or five-inch flattened and slightly-incurved shaft that
suddenly turned back on itself like a sharp 'J', then flared bulbously at
the end. Everyone turned as Maliq's spoon clattered to the tabletop. He was
shaking violently, his eyes showing white all the way around as he stared
in horror at the... whatever they were.

At a nod from Gary, Quinten's massive hand came down on the black kid's
shoulder and Maliq spun to him and started babble. "Oh, please no! I'll do
the voice! Anything! Oh, Lordie, massah-suh, please don'. Not dat,
massah-suh, anyt'ing but dat, suh!" Quinten put a finger to the boy's lips
and he fell silent like a switch thrown.

"Quinten, could you take Maliq up to his room, please? Be kind and gentle
with him; we both know why he reacted like that. But be firm because no
pickaninny is going to talk like that in front of his betters, and he has
no place deciding what is and is not done to further his education." Gary's
voice was not harsh, more... disappointed and resigned. Quinten and Maliq
had barely cleared the door before we could hear the boy begging again in
that same "movie-nigger" banter, a sound cut instantly when the door
closed.

"I'm sorry, boys, but Maliq has his own demons. Sadly, he was roomed with
another nigger boy that I fostered, Isibindi, who helped us perfect the
earliest prototypes of these devices. Izzy was... very vocal and
uncooperative, and told Maliq things that were horrifying and simply not
true. Admittedly, some of the earlier version could get... intense at
unexpected times, but they never caused any physical injury. Isibindi was,
well, he had a very weak character even for an ignorant jungle bunny and
he..." Gary shook his head as if to clear it. "Anyway, he's doing quite
well now. He is studying at KwaZulu-Natal, one of the best universities in
South Africa, and he has a team of two assistants to help with
his.... other issues. Ironically, his name, Isibindi, apparently means
Bravery in some degenerative nigger language."

Tyler's eyes were flicking from the blue things to Gary's face as he
spoke. Just then Quinten came in and Gary raised an eyebrow. The huge man's
purring voice answered the silent question. "Maliq is fine, boys. He's
resting. I gave him a cup of herbal tea," he made eye contact with Gary at
that, who grinned, "because he really just needed a nice lie-down."

"I think we need some relaxing ourselves after that. Dawkins, why don't you
join us downstairs when you've finished cleaning up?" The cook smiled and
bustled about as Quinten and Gary led us out into the central hall and over
to a spiral stone staircase heading downwards. At the bottom, the door
opened on a rush of moist, salty air.

Like the movie room, this one was a shock to the senses. Everything was
stone. The back wall seemed like part of the mountain itself and the thick
pillars supporting the house above were faced in the same rough rock. The
floor was a deliberate patchwork of smoothed stone and
deliberately-mismatched or broken tiles like some archeological dig. The
windows looking out onto the valley were obviously designed so they could
be slid open on the (literally) cavernous space. Conversation groups of
chairs and tables dotted the area, all of them upholstered in fabrics
matching the muted stone colors. One end held a vast array of exercise
equipment and the other held doors to enclosed spaces. The center, though,
was dominated by a truly enormous pool.

We walked forward in a sort of trance, a thin layer of sand shuffling under
our bare feet. "But we don't have bathing sui-- Oh." My voice ended very
small as the men laughed. No one wore clothes *out* of the water and I was
worried about skinny-dipping? With no warning or formality, just two loud
squawks, Tyler and I found ourselves spluttering heavily-salted water in
the pool as Quinten smiled down at us after his sudden push. Gary jumped
in, then the giant bear did a nice if splashy dive. For the next half-hour,
we floated about, getting a very stern warning anytime we got "frisky" as
Quinten put it. We couldn't do anything strenuous "until the meal has
settled."

At about the half-hour mark, Gary called us to the end of the pool that
sloped upwards like a beach. There was an array of lamps on the ceiling
above a set of wooden beach chairs.

"Okay, that was a nice interlude, boys. We'll do more swimming in a minute,
but it's time to get you fitted. Have a seat just here." Gary sat on a
bench and directed us to each side. "Tyler, you'll be first so Kyle can see
what it does. He's younger and deserves some consideration." Tyler tensed
and gasped as Gary pulled him across his knee, clenching his butt
tightly. I could see the weals I'd left there earlier and felt a shard of
ice in my chest at the memory.

"Shh, son. No spanking. No one did anything wrong. In fact, this may be the
best feeling you've ever had. Just relax, son, it's fine." Gary continued
to coo as Quinten stepped over with one of the blue things and a large
squirt-bottle. As Gary got Tyler calmed, Quinten coated the blue thing in
whatever was in the bottle so that it gleamed in the light.

The huge man's vocal purr added to the soothing sounds. "Since we have to
deal with the cage, yours will be handled a little differently than your
brother's, but neither will hurt at all, okay?" He knelt behind Tyler and
very gently but firmly spread his legs apart. Tyler turned as much as he
could with a look of terror on his face.

Quinten used some sort of small tool at the base and the loop end slowly
opened. Tyler hissed as the man began to tug and stroke his balls,
gathering them in his paw. He slid the open end around and Tyler yipped as
it caught some hairs. "Shh, boy. We'll probably want to get rid of that
hair, anyway." Tyler flushed at that news; I knew that he set great store
by the crops of short-n-curlies at his crotch and underarms. His eyes went
wide and he pulled in a huge breath when Quinten used the tool to reclose
the ring.

"Oh my God!" My brother whispered reverently and Gary chuckled.

"See, I told you. And that's not the best part." I shot a questioning look
at Tyler who looked awestruck.

"I-I-I-I-I-I-It's, like... I can't describe it! It's incredible, Kyle!"

"It's a combination of sensations, actually," Quinten explained as he
started to manipulate the flexible middle. "You're feeling a light
stimulation that is partly electrical and partly a sonic-level vibration."
Tyler yelped suddenly as Quinten made a quick, thrusting motion with his
hand. "Sorry about that; the initial insertion can be sharp but I've found
it better if you don't know it's coming."

"That really hurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr FUCK!"

"And that, Tyler, is the good part." Gary was beaming. "That is the effect
of the very lightest level of stimulation along your perineum, your anus
and, most importantly, your prostate and the area around it!" Tyler was
beginning to hunch a little.

"Y-Y-Y-Y-Y... Y-Y-Y-Y-Y... Um, y-y-you said," it took Tyler several tries
to get words to work again, "that I needed to cum, right? OH GOD! Please,
can I? Please?"

"Cum?" Gary had real puzzlement in his voice. "I never mentioned you
cumming."

"Sir, I think he may have misunderstood. Remember, he probably has never
known that release and orgasm are not necessarily tied together."

"You're right, of course. So, Tyler, to be specific, it is medically
dangerous to keep someone your age from releasing seminal fluid and sperm
for an extended period. However, with boys of your... temperament, allowing
you to reach orgasm, to cum, is simply counterproductive."

Tyler started blubbering and objecting and Quentin popped him sharply on
the ass, getting another yelp. "Tyler, that is exactly the problem. You
have no self-control. No sense of appropriate behavior. It's understandable
with the horrific abuse you faced under Gary's brother, but it still must
be corrected. Now, not another word. We have only your best interest at
heart."

"That said, I think it's a perfectly good time to demonstrate. Jeeves, set
Tyler Volker's BoyGasm to a, let's see, three-minute simple release,
please."

The gasp that Tyler sucked in was massive and his body started to hunch. He
started to moan, then actually hum tonelessly, completely oblivious to the
presence of anyone or anything. "So, Kyle, the device that we're currently
calling the BoyGasm -- it will probably have another name when marketing
gets done with it -- is incredibly pleasurable, as you can see. It can be
controlled through Jeeves or through a phone or computer interface."

Tyler was emitting a huffing, high-pitched, rhythmic cry as, apparently,
the thing changed either pace or intensity. "As it approaches the end of
the cycle," Quinten explained, "there is a marked difference if we intend
to produce a full orgasm -- which, of course, isn't actually possible when
Tyler is caged. If a boy is loose, we can still produce what is known as a
non-orgasmic release in most cases. You'll see the change right about..."
Tyler suddenly went rigid and his voice was a continuous keen. "...now." My
brother started to shake and then, like a faucet being released, a steady
stream of thick white cum poured out of his caged cock like creamy piss for
ten or twelve seconds, then Tyler collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.

Gary reached over and gently closed my mouth. He smiled and said, "Your
brother needs some time, Kyle, to recover. Even without a true orgasm, a
release after nearly two and a half days drains a boy of energy." Quinten
lifted Tyler and carried him a few feet to one of the upholstered chairs
and draped him there. "So, now it's your turn."

I let myself be put on Gary's lap, unsure whether to be excited, horrified,
scared or just plain horny and my body apparently decided on "all of the
above." I jumped hard when Quinten's statement, "... yours will be handled
a little differently than your brother's..." was made clear when a sudden,
intense surge of not-really-pain erupted as he plugged my ass with the
bulbous head. In a matter of seconds, the ring was snug against the base of
my dick and balls.

"Jeeves, set Kyle Volker's BoyGasm to a four-minute reward orgasm, please."

In moments, I was looking down at myself from above. That other Kyle's body
was writhing and moaning in Gary's lap as the two men petted my back and
sides. I could feel what the remote body felt at a remove, the intense and
shocking pleasure from my ass -- both inside and at the lips --
orchestrating with a rhythmic pulsing at the base of my cock and
something... indescribable between there and my asshole. Gary had reached
between my legs and was pleasuring my cockhead and Quinten was working my
nipples expertly.

When the pleasure could get no better, it changed to a whole other rhythm
and pattern, redoubling the bliss and keeping me on the very edge of
explosion. This went on and on, constantly shifting and driving me
completely insane. At last, burst after burst rocked through me and I came
so explosively that, like Tyler, I simply collapsed entirely, mumbling and
murmuring insensibly. Quinten draped me on another armchair where I drifted
between bliss and sleep, cresting a wave of amazing sensations. A soft
snore from Tyler seemed to be the cue my body needed and a wondrous
darkness enfolded me.

<eof>

Special thanks to Beta Readers who spent their time looking for my fuckups:
Pawl and Lee have consistently improved this story for quite a few chapters
now. THANK YOU!

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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
Canvas Hell: 36 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/
Beaux Thibodaux: 28 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/
The Heathens: 30 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/
Culberhouse Rules: 13 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/
Raven's Claw: 11 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/
Ashes & Dust: 8 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/
Maybe Next Time: 8 chapters .../authoritarian/maybe-next-time/
Irma's Boys: 2 chapters .../adult-friends/irmas-boys/
Patriot UP!: 2 chapters .../authoritarian/patriot-up/