by Pipistrelle
The big bus rattled along the pot holed highway. The full moon reflected off its windows and gave an erie glow to the inside of the capsule.
In his seat the boy twitched in a fitful sleep. His long blonde hair was tossled and hung over his handsome face. He fidgeted again as he dreamed of the past and the future. He had been able to maintain his optimistic attitude during the past few weeks but now he was subconsciously frightened. All that he had regarded as “home” was a thing of the past. He would not, could not, return for there was nothing to return to. As he slept the bus carried him across half the country towards an almost foreign city. There, the court said, John Cox would make a new home with his uncle Victor and cousin Bill. Consciously John had accepted it all as right and inevitable. But, now as he slept he was frightened. He was entering the unknown, a new chapter of his life was beginning with an uncle he had never seen and until last week never even heard of.
In the seat next to John, the balding shoe salesman was thankful for the full moon. It provided just enough light to study the sleeping boy’s body. The broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips, the long arms and legs, and the hands and feet still growing slightly ahead of the 16 year old body were clearly visible. But after a quick survey of his seat-mate’s body the old man had not been able to shift his gaze from its single most prominent feature, the huge mound of male sex that pressed itself against the tight material of the boys pants. For hours now the shoe-clerk had been fighting the urge to let his hand fall into the sleeping boy’s lap, to touch that beautiful lump, to feel with his own fingers the great length of cock clearly visible lying dormant under the tight cloth and to squeeze the gigantic balls that must be present to produce such a lump.
Just as lust was about to gain over caution the bus struck a particularly deep chuckhole and the boy bounced up, long blonde lashes flopping with a stoil over azure eyes—he was awake. For the rest of the ride they talked of the weather, the road contitions and of selling shoes. But the old man kept his eyes lowered into his companion’s crotch and dreamed of what might have been.
At the bus station John scanned the crowd who had come to greet passengers. They were supposed to meet him but he didn’t see how he could possibly pick them out in the crowd and, he wondered how he could recognize them. He stood forlornly next to his single small duffle bag and waited as handshakes and kisses were exchanged around him and the crowds thinned.
Then John noticed a man staring at him. No, not really a man. John saw upon closer inspection, a boy of about his own age but much bigger. His muscular legs were tightly encased in faded blue denim and his feet sheathed in shinning black boots. A black leather jacket decorated with chrome studs covered his broad, muscular torso and a spray of black hairs curled out over the top of his tight black T-shirt. But John didn’t really notice this. His gaze was locked with the leather clad youth’s icy blue eyes and a shiver of some strange and unexplained emotion ran down his back.
The eyes remained cold as the youth approached and asked, “Are you John Cox?” In response to John’s timid nod the youth smiled but it was a smile as cold as his glare. “I’m Bill. Come with me,” he said turning and moving away before John could answer.
John fought his way through the throng towards the door but was always a few steps behind his cousin. Outside Bill kept walking quickly, never looking back and John rushed to follow Finally Bill stopped at a huge black and chrome motorcycle parked at the curb and got on. “Wow!” John said walking up. “I’ve never ridden a cycle before!”
“Cut the chatter! Just get on and hang on,” Bill ordered. John quickly obeyed and soon they were moving through the streets of the city. The roar of the engine would have made conversation impossible even if either of them had been so inclined. John’s head was swimming. He had had a knot of fear in this stomach for days but Bill’s obvious hostility had tightened it to a painful, almost stiffly constriction. He stared at the broad leather clad back before him and wondered what his uncle would be like.
They rode through the business district and into an area of large factories and warehouses. Finally Bill turned into a narrow break in a high brick wall and as they passed through John noticed the heavy steel doors that could close the portal. A chill went down his back as he thought how much they looked like a prison. They were in a large junk strewn yard completely enclosed by the high brick wall. At the back of the yard a low block building had the sign “Vic’s Cycle Shop” above wide double doors. Bill jerked to a stop before the open doors and motioned for John to follow him into the building.
“Pa, I got him,” Bill called to the figure working on a large engine on the bench at the back wall. Victor Cox turned and looked at the new arrival. In every way he was an older version of his son: The same powerful legs, the same wide muscular torso, the same short cropped black hair and the same ruggedly chiseled face. His naked chest revealed a dense forest of curly black hair that glistened with perspiration and his hands were grimy with engine oil. But the main things John noticed were the same piercing icy blue eyes and the same cold smile.
Boldly John advanced and offered his hand. “Hello Uncle Victor, I’m glad to meet you.”
The burly man ignored the boy’s hand and stood starring, examining John from head to toe in silence. Then he said “So you’re my nephew. Well, better than I expected from that panty waist brother of mine and that goody-goody cunt he married—but not much better.” Before John could speak to defend his parents Vic continued. “Now look. The court said you’re my responsibility. They say I have to take care of you until you’re 18. That means that for the next two years you will be living here whether we like it or not. There is only one thing you have to remember. While you’re living here I’m the boss. Understand that?”
John’s jaw trembled slightly and his palms were stuck with sweat as he nodded yes.
“Yeah? Well we’ll see!” Vic continued. While you’re living here and I’m feeding you you will work for everything you get. You will do exactly what I tell you to do and will do nothing except at my orders. Is that clear?”
“But…” John began but a large greasy hand shot forward and contacted his youthful cheek.
“Don’t stand by giving me any back talk. You’ll do what I order or get the appropriate punishment. Understand?”
John’s heart pounded. He nodded his head and gazed at the floor, fighting back the tears that welled up in his eyes.
“Bill, show him where to put his stuff and have him get rid of those damned hippy clothes. No nephew of mine is going to wear that kind of an outfit. We’ll get him some man’s clothes tomorrow. Until then he can fuckin’ well wear his birthday suit.”
Bill was grinning in pleasure. This was going to be a great two years. “That way,” he commanded, giving John a slight shove towards a doorway. By the time they had entered the living quarters John was openly sobbing and tears were beginning to stream down his cheeks.
Bill spun him around by the shoulders and stared into his handsome face. “Now listen you little fairy! Stop that sniveling! You are here to stay for a while and while you’re here you do what we say. Accept it! Cut the crying or Pa will use a strap on you until you’re more black than white. Then you’ll really have something to cry about!”
John wiped the tears from his eyes, shook back his long blonde hair and looked defiantly at his cousin. “Alright. I’m no crybaby. And I’m no fairy either!”
“We’ll see about that. Now get out of those fancy duds.” When John made no immediate move to undress, Bill grabbed a handful of the front of John’s tie-dyed shirt. “I said STRIP!” he bellowed jerking on the shirt and ripping the thin fabric.
Hesitantly John pulled off the torn shirt and handed it to Bill as his cousin openly admired his broad expanse of velvet smooth, hairless chest. Bill tossed the shirt into the flames of a pot bellied stove then ordered John to continue. The youth removed his sneakers and these and his socks joined the shirt in the fire. Then he emptied his pockets on an old table and unbuttoned his pants. Bill watched with interest as John began to pull down the zipper that concealed an enormous bulge. The youth noticed his cousin’s fixed gaze and, embarrassed, turned his back as he slipped the gaily striped bell bottoms from his narrow hips. He stepped out of the pants lying around his ankles and stood still.
“Come on. Give me the pants!” Bill ordered. John picked them up and held them in front of his crotch as he moved towards his cousin standing beside the stove. When Bill had tossed the bells into the flames he gripped the elastic waistband of John’s jockey shorts. “Now these you fairy,” Bill said with a sneer. “A MAN doesn’t wear anything under his pants.” John’s ears glowed red as Bill jerked his jockeys down. The grimy youth’s knuckles groped John’s cock as they jerked the cloth down. Then Bill froze as he stared, open mouthed, between his cousin’s legs. The bulge had been promising but he hadn’t expected this! The exposed cock was huge, longer and thicker even than Pa’s! And behind the enormous meat hung a sac containing the largest balls Bill had ever seen.
John stood there conscious of Bill’s amazement and thoroughly humiliated. The other fellows had always stared at his crotch and he knew they ridiculed him for being so different. Many had called him “horse cock” and laughed in the locker room after gym. Now he jumped as Bill’s hand moved from the jockeys at his knees to the long thick column of man-flesh and began to massage it.
“You may not be a man but you’ve sure got some of the equipment.” Bill said tightening his grip on John’s cock to keep the youth from pulling away. “To become a man all you need is tor Pa and me to manipulate you a little bit.” And he began laughing at his own joke.
At that moment Vic entered from the garage. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?” he roared. He flung John around and pushed his face inches from the boy’s. “Why you God damned cock suckin’ fairy,” he bellowed. “I thought you were one when I saw that hippy outfit. Now I know it.” He gripped John’s fear shriveled cock and squeezed hard. “You’ve been teasing Bill with this long dong of yours! As soon as my back is turned you’re waving it in his face trying to get him to suck it! Admit it!”
John’s face contorted in agony as Vic’s hand jerked on his cock. “No!” he sobbed “No!”
“Like hell, ‘No’. I saw you! Well I’ll tell you what, Mr. Fairy, if you’re so damned proud of this cock and balls I guess they deserve some of my attention. I think I should give them some of my attention right now!” He gripped John’s left wrist and twisted the youth’s arm up between his shoulder blades then pushed his struggling nephew through the door into the garage. “Bill, go lock the gate.We don’t want any customers interrupting us while we work on our queer relative here!”
“No Sir!” Bill replied eagerly as he ran to the front wall and swung the massive steel gates to the compound shut and locked them. By the time he got back to the garage his father had his cousin’s naked body draped over a bike and securely anchored.
John’s ankles were tied to the rear tire in a way that his knees were spread. His ass rested on the highest part of the seat so that his big cock and balls were elevated and exposed. His wrists were tied to the front axle and his stomach and chest sloped down from his elevated chest but his head was propped up against the handle bars so he had a clear view of what was about to happen between his legs.
“No! No! Please don’t!” John begged as Vic stepped into view holding a length of black leather strap.
“Shut up, you queer!” the uncle responded as he raised the strap and sent it crashing against the helpless youth’s huge balls. A piercing scream broke from John’s lips as the pain racked his body. And his screaming was joined by the laughter of the two hairy men who now took turns smashing their wide straps against John’s tender thighs and hard abdomen or against the youth’s magnificent cock and balls. Soon the entire area of John’s crotch was glowing from the beating. Red streaks and rows of welts lined his legs and cock and small spots of blood marked places where repeated blows had broken the skin. John no longer screamed, he merely moaned and cried and begged them to stop.
Finally they did stop, both now glistening with the sweat from their exertion. “Bill,” Vic said. “I think your cousin may be a little sore. Go get some liniment to rub on him.”
“Yes Sir,” Bill responded, dropping his strap and grinning from ear to ear as he ran into the living quarters to get a bottle of the potent liquid. When he returned he poured a liberal dose of the aromatic mixture into his father’s cupped hands.
Vic began massaging John’s tortured thighs and the youth began to scream again as the calloused fingers rubbed the burning fluid into the lacerated skin. He screamed even louder as the cruel fingers spread the liquid fire over his cock and balls and began to squeeze mercilessly. Then Vic gripped John’s scrotum and began to squeeze the youth’s huge balls. Fingers of pain shot like lightening up John’s bound torso with an intensity as yet unknown. As his uncle’s fingers closed like vices on his fragile nuts he screamed in agony then screamed again before becoming completely silent.
Vic released the unconscious boy’s nuts and put his arm around his son’s naked shoulders. “Billy just look at the size of that cock and those balls!” he said. “He really brings out the best in me. Imagine! You and your old Pa have this young stud to use for the next two years. Man are we going to have one hell of a wild two years! Now go get some water. We’ve got to revive him. After all he’s the guest of honor. We wouldn’t want him to miss the fun!”
When John could again comprehend his surroundings he looked up at his torturers and begged. “Please! Please, Uncle Vic, Bill, please! No more! I can’t take any more.”
“Admit it,” Vic commanded. “Admit that you’re a god damned fairy and that you purposely flaunted that rod of yours at Billy.”
“No,” John moaned. “No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t do that. Please! Please don’t think that of me. I’m not a queer!”
Bill grinned and looked at Vic. “He won’t admit it Pa. I guess we’d better cut out this kid stuff and really get down to business.”
Vic winked at his son and was filled with pride. It was good for a boy and his father to share a hobby. “Yeah,” he said. “Go get the stuff.”
Bill returned with a can of pins and nails, a box of large wooden matches and the stub of a candle. Vic watched in parental admiration as Bill lit the candle and began to dribble the molten wax over his cousin’s naked chest. John gasped as the searing liquid touched his sensitive skin but he didn’t cry out. When the chest was spotted from collar bone to navel Bill let a particularly large pool form about midway between the youth’s wax encrusted nipples and inserted the base of the candle in the puddle where the cooling wax anchored it firmly to John’s chest.
Vic lit a second candle from the first and dripped the wax into John’s sparse new mat of pubic hair. When the wax was about the size of a quarter and fully cooled he jerked the disc away peeling several of John’s crotch hairs out by the roots. The tortured youth screamed then screamed again as Bill repeated the operation.
He begged them to stop torturing him but they only laughed as Vic selected a long hat pin from the can and passed it through the flame of the candle until it glowed. John watched in terrified fascination as his uncle gripped his huge cock and held it up so the boy could clearly see the atrocity he was about to perform. Vic placed the point of the red hot pin in the grove just below the purplish crown of John’s cockhead. Then slowly he began to push the hot metal through the tender flesh.
John screamed and sobbed and cried and begged as his uncle and cousin took turns sinking the slender slivers of metal into his tortured body. When his cock resembled a long cylindrical pin cushion they began to insert even larger pins into the muscles on his thighs and abdomen and around his exposed asshole. And finally they inserted a long hot, pin into each of his pain wracked balls. With this John’s screams of agony became truly hysterical as the pain completely possessed his mind. He lost consciousness then and once again as they slowly withdrew each of the slender spikes but each time they stopped their tortures to revive him before they proceeded.
When all of the pins had been removed John sobbed in relief and thanked them, begging them to now release him. But they were far from through with their entertainment.By now both father and son had discarded the last of their clothing and their own perfectly matched long cocks stood ram rod stiff from the tangled forest of their crotches.
Bill bent down and took John’s red spotted cock into his mouth. The bound youth moaned at the new sensation. Bill gently licked and sucked at the pain wracked column of flesh, tenderly kneading it with his mouth until John began to respond in spite of himself. Slowly the youth’s moans of agony changed to moans of pleasure. Vic jammed a silver bullet shaped inhaler into one of his nephew’s nostrils and pinched the other shut. John’s head swam in pain and pleasure as the amyl ignited his system. Bill felt the gigantic cock throb and swell between his jaws.
When Bill removed his mouth from the now rigid column Vic carefully inserted a long sliver of wood into the pee slit at its tip and lit the splint. Then all three watched in fascination as the flame moved closer and closer to the sensitive prick tip. John watched in a weird euphoric horror as the flame approached his flesh. As it seared the tender membranes of his cock he screamed with an anguish he hadn’t expressed all night. All sense of pleasure instantly left him and he screamed and screamed repeatedly then passed out.
Again they revived him and as he became conscious he heard voices booming and felt a palm repeatedly striking his cheeks.
Vic slapped the bound youth’s face and shouted, “Admit it, you shit eating cock sucker. Admit it! Say you’re a cock sucking fairy. Say your good for nothing but to please your master. Admit you’re a slave worthy only of pain and punishment for disobedience.”
Slowly, faltering, through sobs of fear and moans of pain John repeated the words. He begged for forgiveness and for an end to his nightmare of torture.
Bill straddled his cousin’s chest, his hard thick cock poking towards the youth’s face. “Yeah, we’re ready to stop—for tonight,” he said, “now we’ll just give you what a cock sucker like you should love—the dick of a real man or two.” John clenched his jaws as the thick pungent cock pushed at his lips. Bill dug his thumbs into John’s cheeks and pried the mouth open then rammed his meat in as John gagged. “Bite my dong and I’ll slit that rod of yours from tip to base.” Cruelly Bill jammed his cock back into the youth’s mouth and began to rape the virgin throat.
John gagged as the meat filled his throat cutting off his air until he thought he would suffocate but Bill withdrew enough for him to breathe through his nose before plunging deep again. Then John forgot the cock in his mouth as he felt calloused fingers probing into his tight asshole. He tried to scream as Vic’s huge greasy cock penetrated him from the rear but Bill’s cock stifled all sounds.
The pain in his ass was intense, his cock and balls still throbbed with agony from the tortures they had endured, his chest felt crushed from the weight of his cousin pumping a hard cock into his mouth, his wrists and ankles were raw from the bounds that had held his struggling form for hours. But all of these pains and agonies receded to a dull throbbing as his brain shouted one phrase over and over again. That phrase, the thought of what it implied, the pain and suffering it promised was the greatest agony of all. Again and again the phrase pounded in John’s head, “two years, two years!”
“TWO YEARS!”
