HT-118 My New Boy
My New Boy
Hard Throbs
HT-118
$3.95
My New Boy
Hard Throbs
HT-118
$3.95
Excerpt
“How did you feel, Jason, while you were caning him?” I was curious. I myself had had a continuous hard on right through and I had felt a little ashamed although I had enjoyed the excitement of watching a muscular young teenager being caned in high ceremony.
“I am ashamed to say it, David. But I got a real kick out of it. But, do you know… right through it, I wanted to be the one tied down to receive that licking…?”
“Really…? You have got that masochistic thing bad haven’t you. I’ve been thinking about it. I might try some ideas out on you soon…” He immediately became excited. I had been idly playing with his half erect cock, but now it surged to full strength in my hand. I looked at it with wonder And hoped I could control this monster I had apparently started.
* * *
“David? Good. I may have some good news for you.”
“Why Bill… Nice to hear from you… Don’t tell me you’ve finally got a prospect…”
“I might have,” he said cautiously. “It’s a boy—just eighteen as you wanted—but much younger looking. He hails from Perth—about as far away as you could get and still be in Australia—and he came to the Coast for the sun and the surf. Both parents dead and no other close relatives. He has a job as a waiter but he has been frequenting the gay bars—particularly the ‘Heavy Duty’—you know, that underground den of iniquity and he let slip some interesting ideas in the hearing of one of my boys.”
“What sort of…”
“Oh, you know… He spoke of slavery and he’s apparently into bondage… Look, why don’t we visit him in his digs. Could be interesting…?”
I made a quick decision. “Okay, when?”
“Right now if you can get here quickly. He’s at home now.”
* * *
“Tony Morelli?” Bill asked as the door opened a crack.
“Yes?” All I could see of him through the small space was his face but that was enough to interest me. He was obviously short and he had jet black, straight hair which gleamed as the light in the room behind him caught it. His eyes were big and warm and brown and were topped by impossibly long lashes. His eyebrows were fine and moved expressively as he spoke. His nose was aquiline—straight, but well shaped. And his mouth, starting with full red lips covering startlingly white teeth, was wide and generous and when, later, he smiled, it lit up his whole face.
His skin was olive. Smooth and clear. He was a beauty alright.
“My name is Bill Herriott, and this is Mr Smith. We may have a proposition which might interest you. May we come in?”
“Oh… My room’s in a bit of a mess…”
“That’s alright. We don’t mind.” We entered the room which was neat as a pin—except for some magazines on the table.
“Please… sit down.” He gestured apologetically to the neatly made up bed. “That’s all I have, I’m afraid.”
Bill and I sat gingerly on his bed.
“Now, what’s this proposition?” I had time to look him over in more detail now and my inspection confirmed Bill’s advice and my own first impression. He was small and finely made. But he was incredibly handsome—almost pretty with those long eyelashes—and I could see through the thin, sleeveless Tshirt and the worn, faded jeans that despite his small size, his body was perfectly proportioned—even muscular given its size.
Bill explained his position as counselor and consultant to the gay community, then went on to detail in broad terms how he had a client interested in ‘adopting’ a ‘son’ to train and develop. “And your name came up… If we have the wrong idea, please forgive us—and we’ll leave…”
“No. Don’t go. I’d like to hear more. For example, what would this ‘client’ expect of his ’son’? I mean how ‘train’ him?”
“I understand he would want to take his ‘son’ back to childhood. Start again as it were. He is reasonably wealthy. You would ‘live in’ full time. You would be subject to discipline of course. And since this ‘father’ wishes to have an incestuous relationship with his ‘son’, you would have to agree to that.”
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