Black Knight Takes White Pawn Pussyboy free porn video

Black Knight Takes White Pawn Pussyboy

Story from the perspective of a white teen pussyboy who becomes the sex slave of a couple niggers who use him for gang bangs and fuck films.

I first met Arnim, my future nigger buck master, when we both worked for a well-known department store in London: in the packing and returns department at the rear of the building. Mr. Potter, the person in charge of the department, was a hard man to please. He was ex-army and arrived for work each morning dressed in a pinstripe suit and bowler hat. He openly called me the "gormless wonder" and Arnim the "Zulu from Brixton," even though Arnim was a West Indian and lived in Islington. The man was a real tyrant, but the work was easy, so we swallowed on the insults and spent most of our time discussing soul music and girls.

Arnim was thirty-four years old and very handsome. His skin was coal-black, his hair close-cropped and he had a neatly trimmed moustache. He was tall, well-built and had a personality that far outshone my own - I was a very shy naturally submissive white boy at the age of eighteen and in need of someone like Arnim to coax me out of my shell.

Arnim had spent a lot of time in Scandinavian, and said that Swedish girls just loved to have sex with black men: "They would line up and drop their knickers for any good-looking nigger stud'. He then went on to say that he had often slept with two girls at the same time, and on one occasion he had fucked the mother of a teenaged schoolgirl, while the girl watched and waited her turn to get black sexed. Arnim certainly knew how to get my cock twitching with his sex stories - I was still a virgin at eighteen and didn't have a girlfriend, so I was mighty envious of my friend's amorous adventures.

Once a month, usually on a Sunday, Arnim would invite me along to his flat in Islington. We would drink a few beers, listen to a couple of records and talk about the music scene in America: Arnim's knowledge of blues and soul was awesome; he invariably knew the names of the session musicians that had played on a particular track, and the reason why the producer had picked them.

During one such visit a friend of Arnim's stopped by for a beer and a chat. Leo was in his early twenties, another nigger buck and very good-looking. He worked for a small record company as a gofer; but to supplement his income he bought and sold stuff that wasn't readily available on the high street. Pornography was his main stock in trade, especially the films and magazines that featured the really dirty kinky perverted stuff. He said most of the material he sold was smuggled in from the Continent, but some of the more unusual films were being made in this country.

I was intrigued, so after another beer and a lot of sycophantic crawling, I managed to persuade Leo to show me the photographs he had in his "for sale" portfolio. They were all eight by ten prints of Karen, his new girlfriend. She was a young blonde who clearly enjoyed sucking cock. Leo said she was a really good fuck and liked being photographed having sex with two or more nigger studs. He then showed me another batch of prints from the portfolio. These featured Karen down on her hands and knees with a big, black cock in her mouth and another up her cunt - the girl looked so-o-o hot.

Arnim nudged me in the ribs with his elbow and smiled when he saw the growing bulge between my legs. He said I should get my cock out and show it to Leo; if it met with his approval, he would phone Karen and ask her to come over. Leo nodded his head and said his girlfriend would love to suck on my cock, especially if she could do it in front of a camera. The beer, which Leo had fortified with a little "nigger jungle juice" from his hip-flask, was making me think seriously about the idea - but still my inhibitions were keeping me from getting my cock out in front of the two black studs.

Arnim suggested I finish off my beer and take another look at the photographs. He said Karen might want to give him a blowjob as well, so I would be doing him a real big favor by standing up and revealing all. Leo laughed and said my "white boy" cock was probably too small to satisfy his girlfriend's insatiable appetite. This well-aimed gibe did the trick. I stood up, unzipped my jeans and pulled out my hard-standing cock; and as I did so, I felt a sudden and overwhelming urge to have sex with someone - and it didn't matter who that someone was. All my inhibitions had suddenly vanished and I was feeling extremely randy.

Arnim and Leo were quick to take advantage of my new-found bravado. They urged me to drink directly from the hip-flask as they removed all my clothes and began stroking my cock and squeezing my ass-cheeks. I knew my boss would condemn this sort of behavior and call it unnatural, but I was far too excited to care. Besides, I liked it when Arnim took hold of my cock and used to lead me down the hallway, pulling on my hardon like a leash and into his bedroom.

Leo laughed when Arnim said I was just what the doctor had ordered. I didn't take too much notice of the remark at the time, but I later discovered that Arnim was talking about Paul Bridges: a doctor of psychiatry who enjoyed organizing sex parties for his friends and the friends of his friends.

I sat on the bed and watched Arnim stroking his ten-inch cock. I was amazed by its size and shape, which clearly put my seven-inch length to shame. The two men were now naked and sitting on either side of me. Arnim said he wanted to see Karen squeeze my balls and drain my cock completely dry. Leo tightened his grip around my cock and said he wanted to see me squeeze Arnim's balls and drain his cock completely dry. I just sat there and smiled, waiting to get fucked by these two nigger jungle bulls.

Arnim told me to lie back and turn onto my side. He then took up a sixty-nine position in front of me and offered me his hard-standing big black cock. As he did so, Leo spread my ass-cheeks apart and pushed a finger, which was covered in Vaseline, into my asshole. I felt the finger slip inside but I didn't let the sensation distract me from the task at hand. I eased back my friend's foreskin and ran the tip of my tongue over his large, bulbous black knob. The "jungle juice" surging through my bloodstream was making me feel really good. My cock was rock hard and I didn't give a damn about being "the sissy girl" in this threesome - I needed to have sex and I didn’t care who fucked who.

Arnim took hold of my cock and fed it into his mouth. I shuddered with excitement, opened my mouth and sucked in several inches of coal-black nigger fuckstick cock. Leo slipped a second finger into my rectum and said something to Arnim in West Indian patois. The Vaseline allowed his fingers to slip in and out of my asshole with ease - there was no pain involved, just some mild discomfort at times.

I gagged several times as I tried to emulate my friend's cock-sucking technique. He was a real expert: knowing exactly how to keep a cock teetering on the brink of a climax. I had no such skills, so I had to make do with raw enthusiasm. Leo watched my efforts with interest. He said I was a "rude boy" with a nice looking cock and an asshole that needed fucking. It was then that his two fingers were removed and replaced by a hard-standing cock.

Apart from the color, Leo's cock was very similar to my own: it was some seven inches long, uncut and quite chunky. However, it felt a whole lot bigger than seven inches when it entered my virgin butt hole. I winced and tried to pull away, but I was firmly sandwiched between the two men. In desperation, I slapped Leo on the thigh as the pain began to overwhelm me. This didn't seem to bother him none, he just carried on pinching my nipples, biting my neck and fucking my ass.

"Be still you little white pussyboy!" he ordered between love bites. "Just relax and go with the flow. A white pussy cuntboy like you should be begging for more nigger cock, not less."

The pain did ease off a bit as Leo's length made itself at home. This allowed me to settle down again and start enjoying myself, which in turn prompted the two men to redouble their efforts and bring things to a memorable climax. I was allowed to cum first, and boy did I cum! My whole body began to convulse as Arnim devoured every drop of seed I could produce. In fact, he wouldn't let go of my ball-sac until he had it all.

Leo was next to cum. He gave out a mighty roar and continued to pump away at my ass until my boycunt was awash with sperm. He then grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, forcing me to open my mouth and release my friend's cock. This allowed Arnim to take hold of his erection and bring things to a spectacular close - my face was completely covered in hot nigger nut juice by the time he had shed his load.

Leo withdrew his cock, slapped me hard across both ass-cheeks and said he and Arnim were going to rub some face cream [nigger sperm] into my skin. I just smiled and let them get on with it - the sex had completely drained me, so I was well and truly out of it by the time they had finished cleaning me up.

* * *

I was still lying on the bed in the nude when I woke up some two hours later. My ass and head were both competing for the "Pain of the Year" award, and Arnim was standing over me with a glass of water in one hand and two aspirin in the other. Embarrassment swept over me as I downed the pills and sipped the water. Arnim said Leo was to blame for what had happened earlier: "The randy fucker should have phoned Karen." I agreed and quickly finished off the water, knowing full well that Arnim and I were just as much to blame.

Arnim sat down on the bed and said I should lie back and relax. He then took hold of my cock and gave it a little squeeze. I couldn't believe my luck; this was just what I wanted him to do.

I never did get to meet Karen that day. I left Arnim's flat the moment I was fully sober. I just couldn't believe what had happened, and why I had enjoyed it so much. Guilt and embarrassment swept over me as I walked to the underground station. I was a shirt-lifter; a queer; a sissy fag, a nancy-boy. Fortunately, I could limit the damage by phoning my boss the next day and resigning. That way, I would never see Arnim or Leo again.

Monday was my scheduled day off, so I decided to stay in bed all morning and mull over my decision to resign - I was definitely having second thoughts. I didn't relish the idea of working alongside Arnim and pretending nothing had happened, but why resign! No one at the store would hear about what we had done, and besides, I was having some pretty strange dreams about big black hands spreading my small white ass-cheeks.

* * *

My next visit to the flat was on the following Sunday. Arnim invited me in and said that Leo was going to be late. Therefore, I had a choice: I could listen to some music in the living-room or join him in the bedroom for a quick warm up session. My face went bright red. I wanted so much to have sex with my friend, but I was far too shy to say so. Arnim gave me a knowing look and told me to strip bare ass naked in the bathroom, freshen up and join him in the bedroom.

In the bathroom, on the shelf below the mirror, I found a hand-written note, a yellow-coloured pill and a glass of water. The note explained that the pill would help me relax: it would melt away my inhibitions and turn me back into "a randy little pussyboy nigger cock-sucker." There would be no more embarrassment and no more alcoholic hangovers. I picked up the glass of water and swallowed the pill.

Arnim was lying on the bed in the nude when I entered the bedroom. His long, muscular legs were spread wide apart and his cock was fully erect. I remember feeling really horny as I closed the door and made my way over to the object of my desire. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, so I clambered onto the bed and took charge of my friend's ten-inch black cock.

Leo entered the room some ten minutes later with Paul, the shrink. I was too engrossed in what I was doing to let the doctor's presence faze me in any way; in fact, I kind of liked the idea of a stranger watching me suck black cock - it made me feel really wicked.

Leo helped Paul set up his photographic equipment as I continued to work on my friend's ten-inch cock. Paul, who was in his late fifties, enjoyed taking photographs of nigger studs having sex with teenagers. He had dozens of these sex romps on film, including the one that featured Karen and the two black studs. Now he was about to add another new teen pussyboy face to his collection.

With the camera and lights set-up on aluminum tripods, it only took Leo a few minutes to get naked and involved in the action. He knelt on the bed behind me, put his hand between my legs and took hold of my erection. His vice-like grip was the first indication I had that this session was going to be just like the last - the man was clearly out to dominate me and use me like his fucktoy. He forced my hard-standing cock back, between my thighs, and held it there while he covered my ass-cheeks with painful love bites.

Meanwhile, Arnim grabbed hold of my head and forced it down on his coal-black stem; holding it there until I gagged. The camera shutter went into overdrive as I struggled to deal with the cock in my mouth and the assault on my ass at the same time.

Paul congratulated Arnim on his find and said that I would make an excellent sissy fag whiteboi sex slave. He then asked Leo what he thought of Arnim's new bum-bottomboy. The man biting my ass laughed and said, in an upper-class accent that mimicked the good doctor's, "Yes, I do believe he will make an excellent sex slave."

Paul told me to stop sucking cock and lie face down on the bed, with my legs as far apart as possible. The experience that followed was truly awesome. I grit my teeth and winced as Arnim straddled my lower back and helped Leo push a well-oiled dildo into my just recently stretched asshole. My tearful protests prompted the shrink to call me "a pathetic sissy cry-baby," and once again, a well-aimed gibe did the trick - I stopped complaining immediately and did my best to accommodate the large, rubber fake cock.

Paul was clearly impressed with what his friends were doing to me in front of the camera. He encouraged them to go in deep and really ream out my pussyass, which they did on several occasions. However, these slow and painful attempts to expand my inner sphincter with the giant dildo were eventually brought to a halt by Arnim, who decided to remove the dildo and let Leo's cock have a go.

The weight of Leo's body on top of mine was crushing. He spread himself out on my back and took an age to get comfortable. "I'm gonna sweat you, whiteboy," he whispered in my ear. "I'm gonna fuck your white-pussyboy ass and fill you up with nigger juice spunk. And when I'm done, the man with the ten-inch boy fucker is gonna take my place."

Encouraged by Paul, Leo plunged his hard-standing cock into my hole and fucked me like a man possessed. The camera captured the whole thing on film, and towards the end, Paul turned to Arnim and said that he now had it all, "ebony on ivory; master on slave; man on sissy fag pussyboy'.

Leo's climax was a very noisy and drawn-out affair for the both of us; and so was Arnim's: his cock certainly left a lasting impression on my burning hole. I really had to struggle to accommodate his "ten-inch chopper," which made my eyes water the instant it was pushed into my battered asshole. The two men took great pleasure in making me squirm beneath their hot, virile bodies. I remember lying on the bed with my arms and legs fully outstretched as they took it in turn to hammer my "white pussyboy" rump into the mattress.

* * *

Arnim had no trouble in persuading me to appear in front of Paul's camera again the following Sunday. This time, the sex-romp between the three of us was far less free flowing and passionate: there was no pill available and Paul was constantly interrupting the action with tedious requests for specific poses. For instance, I was happily sucking on Leo's cock when Paul decided he wanted a few shots of my spread asshole. He asked Arnim and Leo to turn me onto my front and spread my legs apart. I heard the camera shutter open and close several times as my gaping asshole was captured on film in glorious close-up. I was still being held in this position when I felt something cold and wet slip in and out of my asscunt. I raised my head quickly and saw, reflected in the dresser mirror, Paul holding a jar of lubricant in one hand and an anal speculum (a phallic-shaped surgical device) in the other.

The ass speculum was inserted into my asshole a second time and rotated some ninety degrees. A lever was then released and two metal wings snapped open against the walls of my inner anal sanctum. There was no pain, just some mild discomfort. The wings continued to press hard against the walls of my asshole, gaping my boy pussy even further apart, as Paul took several photographs of what he called my "tunnel of boycunt love."

With the device removed, Arnim and Leo released my legs and turned me over again. They then grabbed my ankles and raised my legs high into the air. More photographs were taken of my even wider gaping asshole as the two men stood on either side of the bed and held my legs wide apart - the image of a giant wishbone being broken in two suddenly flashed through my mind.

This happened again the following Sunday; but this time, instead of being released and fucked by Leo and Arnim, the bedroom door suddenly opened and in walked two more men.

Brian and Roy were both in their late thirties. They were white, slim and rugged looking, with Roy being the taller of the two. Paul, the only one in the room with clothes on, greeted the two newcomers warmly and asked them for their opinion of Arnim's new bum-boy. My face went bright red as Brian and Roy gave me the once over.

"He'll do," replied Brian, as he took hold of his cock and began stroking it.

Roy simply looked at Paul and, with a glint in his eye, smiled.

"Good!" said Paul. "Now close the door and get stuck in."

Arnim and Leo were pleased to see that I wasn't going to make a fuss about being offered to Brian and Roy. They had tightened their grip around my ankles when the two men had entered the room - fearing that I might over react and try to spoil the party. But now they were quite happy to release my legs and watch me take care of Brian's six-inch length, which was circumcised, and Roy's seven-inch length, which was uncut.

Paul was never worried about me over reacting to his little surprise. Being a good judge of character, he knew that I was a natural-born submissive with a desperate need to please others. He also knew I was a cock-hungry boyslut and totally bewitched by Arnim's magnetic personality - so why wouldn't I welcome a surprise gang-bang assfucking.

The four men took great delight in dominating, abusing and fucking me for the remainder of the afternoon. My ass-cheeks were slapped repeatedly as each man took it in turn to tweak my nipples, slapping my erect cock so that it danced around and squeezing my balls. Roy, the most dominant of the four, kept encouraging me to suck cock - if I didn't have a cock in my mouth he would viciously slap my cock and verbally abuse me until I did.

I really enjoyed being the centre of attention that day, even though I was being dominated by a group of heavy-handed ruffians. My body was pushed from pillar to post as each man took it in turn to fuck me: beginning with Roy and ending with Brian, who fucked me on my back with my ass in the air and my legs jack-knifed over my head.

After a bath and a respite, which lasted for almost an hour, I was led back to the bedroom for another session in front the camera. Arnim encouraged his friends to use my body in any way they wished - he even asked Paul to strip off and get involved, but Paul declined the offer, saying that it was more important for him to stay behind the camera and capture the gang-bang on film. He then suggested the men shave off my pubic hair, saying that I would look more like a sissy pussyboy and a whole lot younger on film without it.

"Great idea," said Roy. "It'll make him look like a twelve-year-old schoolboy. I would really love to shag a twelve-year-old schoolboy right now, especially if he looked like sexy Trevor here."

"Schoolgirl more like," scoffed Brian. "Check out that long blond hair and those baby-blue eyes. He looks more like..."

"You can be a real asshole sometimes," interrupted Roy. "Most boys have long hair nowadays. It's the fashion."

"That's enough, you two," snapped Arnim. "Trevor doesn't look like a girl; he just looks like a pussyboy. Isn't that right, Paul?"

"Yeah, but we want him to look like a 12 year old really good-looking pussyboy. Now stop all the chatter and shave off his bloody pubes."

Using a razor and a pair of scissors, Brian and Leo removed all the hair from around my cock and balls, including the few hairs around my asshole in no time at all. Arnim ensured that I was scalped with the utmost care, although the TCP and ice-cold water he used to finish off the job did put our friendship on hold for several teeth-clenching minutes.

Paul continued to take photographs of everything that was happening to me on the bed, including my scalping. He then set to work capturing the second gang-bang on film. And as before, the four men took great delight in dominating me: I was thrown around on the bed like a rag doll, and my body was pushed and pulled into all kinds of unusual positions. The made sure to get some close-ups of my newly shaved cock and balls hanging either above or below my gaping boycunt fuckhole.

The photofloods were switched off around six in the evening. I was totally shattered by then and couldn't get off the bed - the men had really put me through the ringer. I could hear them laughing and joking through the open doorway as I lay in the dark, recovering. My arms and legs ached; my ass-cheeks were covered in red slap marks; and my asshole was awash with four loads of sperm - it was a fuck session I would never forget.

* * *

It was raining when we arrived outside the block of flats in Clarence Avenue. Leo parked his Rover opposite the main entrance to Pinewood Court and gathered up the films he was hoping to sell to Paul. Arnim said the shrink had dozens of films in his collection and was always on the lookout for more.

Paul took our coats at the front door and led us down the hallway and into a large living-room. The curtains had been drawn and an 8mm projector stood on a stand behind the sofa. In front of the sofa, some twelve feet away, stood a portable screen on a tripod. Paul said he had just finished setting up the equipment and couldn't wait to see all the goodies on offer. This announcement prompted Arnim to put his hand on my shoulder and tell me to find the bathroom, strip naked and freshen up.

The good doctor was reeling-up a film on the projector when I returned to the living-room in the nude. Arnim, who was sitting in the middle of the sofa, beckoned me over and told me to climb aboard. I felt so wicked sitting on my friend's lap and stretching out along the entire length of the sofa, resting my head on one armrest and my feet on the other.

My cock began to twitch the instant the lights went out and the film began to roll. On screen, two boys and a middle-aged man were sitting at a table, playing cards. The boys were maybe 18 or 19 years old and the game they were playing was clearly a variant of strip poker.

Boy number one was a cute little blond. He had doll-like eyes, a small upturned nose and rosebud lips. His card playing skills were next to non-existent, so he didn't smile all that often. However, when he did win a hand, his impish grin lit up the screen.

Boy number two had a shock of dark hair and a long, thin face. He wasn't good-looking, but the spectacles he wore gave him the look of an innocent swot, which, from a boy-lover's point of view, made him just as attractive as the cute little blond.

The adult member of the cast was ideally suited to the role of seducer. His reassuring smile encouraged the two boys, even when they were losing heavily, to keep on playing. The man looked like everyone's favorite uncle. He had wiry brown hair, hazel eyes and a dimpled chin; and his warm, friendly manner ensured that the boys unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped without complaint.

Within ten minutes the boys were completely naked and performing a series of cock-sucking forfeits on each others shaved hairless cocks. The blond was lying flat-out on the table, on his back, with the swot above him in a sixty-nine position. The man stood beside the table and encouraged the boys to suck cock, and as they did so, he gently caressed the pussyboy’s bottom.

Then, as the man began finger-fucking the teen’s asshole, Leo stopped the film and rewound it - Arnim explained to me, in a whisper, that Leo wasn't going to let Paul see the whole film until he had paid for it.

"Excellent," said Paul. "I've seen that blond boy before. He was in that fishing trip film you sold me last month."

Paul helped Leo set up the next film as Arnim pulled back my foreskin as far as it would go and repeatedly ran the tip of his right index finger over my shiny, wet knob. He could see that I was in desperate need of relief, but knew, as I did, that he wasn't going to satisfy that need until he was good and ready.

The setting for the next film was a stretch of sandy beach on a warm, sunny day. On screen, a naked man was introducing a young teen boy to the wonders of naturism. The man was in his late twenties, good-looking and muscular. He had wavy brown hair, a hairy chest and a long, uncut cock.

The boy, who was maybe eighteen years old, was another cute little blond. He had a really tiny, shaved uncut cock, which stood upright when fully erect. Leo stopped the film a few seconds after the boy had taken hold of the man's hard-standing cock.

Paul didn't say a word when the lights came on again. He just stood by the projector and watched my fully erect cock being teased and tormented by Arnim's fingers.

The third and last film featured a naked teenager being bound and gagged by two men dressed in black leather. The teenager, who also had no hair around his genitals, was hung upside-down from the ceiling by his ankles: leather ankle-straps attached to a metal leg-spreader and chain held him suspended in mid-air.

He hung there, completely helpless, as one man slapped his ass-cheeks and the other squeezed his ball sac. The two men then spun him round and round so that they could both slap his ass as it passed by.

I was totally mesmerized by this extreme form of sex. I found the concept of a teenager, like myself, being held captive in this way very arousing. The leather straps and rope restraints didn't turn me off at all; in fact, they actually strengthened my determination to seek out this form of sex for myself – now I was becoming a masochistic bondage sex slave painpig.

Arnim wasn't foolish enough to think that he could contain my excitement for much longer, especially with the images on the screen getting more extreme by the minute. With time running out, Paul was invited to get down on his knees and suck in my hard-standing cock; and as he did so, a jet of sperm hit the back of his throat.

Paul certainly knew how to prolong the life of a climax. My whole body shuddered whenever the tip of his tongue visited the most sensitive parts of my knob. The man had latched onto my cock like a limpet, and he wasn't going to let go until he had drained my ball sac completely dry.

My dreams were filled with images of leather-clad men for weeks after that first visit to Clarence Avenue. The mere thought of being restrained and trained by such men made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I was hooked on bondage and needed to know more about it. Unfortunately my search for information produced nothing of any real value, so I decided to return to the good doctor's flat and ask him for help.

Paul was only too happy to assist a fellow enthusiast. His collection of pornography contained all the bondage information I needed. However, his offer of help did come with a few strings attached: first, I had to be buck naked at all times during my visits; second, I had to obey his every instruction; third, I had to address him as "Sir."

I agreed to all three conditions in an instant and made an arrangement to visit the flat the next evening. As ordered, I arrived on the stroke of eight and stripped off in the bathroom. The action-packed film show lasted for almost two hours, and as before, I lay on the sofa with Paul attached to my cock like a limpet.

My next visit to the flat included an overnight stay in the holding cell, which in reality was a converted walk-in cloakroom. The cell's heavy wooden door had been painted light grey to match the color of the concrete walls and ceiling within; and the only item of furniture in the cell was a high-back wooden chair, which had been bolted to the concrete floor and painted black.

Spending the night in the holding cell was an extremely uncomfortable experience. I sat naked and cold in the darkness for almost eight hours; and to add insult to injury, a dozen or so ropes held me securely in place: with one rope looped round my head several times to form a rather crude but effective gag.

I was released from my bonds in the morning and sent to the bathroom to get cleaned up. After breakfast, which consisted of nothing more than a crust of bread and some water, I was instructed to go through the boxes I found in the spare bedroom and sort out the content. If I completed the task by noon, said Paul, I would be allowed to go home; if not, I would be doomed to spend another night in the holding cell.

The six cardboard boxes I found in the spare bedroom were filled with black and white photographs of naked and bound-naked boys. Ancient Harry, a good friend of Paul's, had taken the photographs during his time as a housemaster: he had spent twenty years teaching ancient history and music to public schoolboys, and the photographs depicted all the boys he had been able to seduce from 1947 to 1964.

Every boy in the collection could be seen in and out of school uniform; and there were dozens of group sessions featuring boys having sex with Paul and Graham, a man I was to meet a week later.

Being a good organizer, I decided to empty out each box in turn and use the number and date stamp on the back of every print to sort out the sessions in chronological order. The first photograph from the box labeled "1947-1949" featured a nineteen-year-old boy in a dark blue school uniform.

The boy named "Robert John Chennell (Age: 19 )" was standing in front of a large stone fireplace with a glint in his eye and a mischievous grin on his face. The next photograph from the box featured Robert sitting in a leather armchair. The school uniform was nowhere to be seen and the naked youngster was stroking his fully erect bald cock, which was really tiny.

It took quite a time to sort out the thirty or so prints that made up Robert's first appearance in front of the housemaster's camera, and it quickly became apparent that I would miss the noon deadline if I continued to study each and every photograph in detail. Therefore, I decided to sacrifice myself for art and spend another night in the holding cell - I just couldn't resist it.


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I was back in the holding cell again the following Saturday night. The evening's entertainment had been extremely exciting and a little scary at times. In truth, it began on Thursday morning when a summons from Paul arrived in the post. It instructed me to arrive at the flat on Saturday evening at six o'clock sharp. I was to ring the doorbell, strip naked and wait.

I was shaking like a leaf when I entered the building at five minutes to six. I climbed the three flights of stairs to the top floor and stood outside Paul's door on the dimly lit landing. The neighbor that lived on the floor below was a nosy old cow, so there was a very real risk of being discovered and probably arrested for indecent exposure. I drew in a deep breath, rang the doorbell and began to undress.

As instructed, I placed my clothes in a neat pile on the mat outside the front door. The windows of the stairwell were glazed with frosted glass, so there was no chance of being seen from the building opposite. However, the glass wouldn't be able to shield me from someone coming up the stairs.

I was still listening for footsteps on the stairs when Paul opened the door, picked up my clothes and told me to "stand and wait'. The shock of being ordered to remain on the landing naked left me open-mouthed and totally crushed. I shook from head to toe as the good doctor and my clothes vanished behind a closing door.

I stood on the landing bare ass naked and trembling with fear. The front door had shut with a loud bang, so I prayed that the old lady wouldn't decide to investigate. I was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. I couldn't gain access to the flat and I couldn't leave the building in the nude - it was just like one of those weird dreams.

I was clearly not ready for this sort of humiliation. The urge to ring the doorbell and beg for sanctuary was becoming irresistible. I wanted so much to take that first step, but a voice in the back of my head told me to stay put - I knew Paul wouldn't open the door, so why risk his disapproval, and possibly an even longer wait on the landing.

My heart leapt into my mouth as the sound of a door opening on the ground floor echoed up the stairwell. I looked over the banister and saw a man climbing the first flight of stairs. This little stunt of Paul's was getting out of hand. What if the old lady had called the police; what if the man was her son, paying her a visit? I was in no mood to stand around and wait for an answer, but where could I hide!

Graham was a little surprised to find me wedged in the narrow space between the concrete rubbish chute and the wall. As a hiding place, it was a complete none starter; in fact, it was the only place on the landing that gave the people living in the building opposite a clear view of my naked ass.

"What an idiot," said Graham. "Get yourself out of there and come over here, pronto!"

I did as he said, covering my genitals with both hands as I shuffled across the landing to stand by the metal banister.

"I'm Graham, Paul's friend."

I sighed with relief; but still I couldn't stop shaking.

"Paul said you were a handsome pussyboy buck," he said, grinning. "He also said that you were a horny little fucker that loved to suck cock. Was he right in that regard as well?"

I knew what was coming, but still I nodded and said "yes'.

"Right then, I want you to suck my cock .... but not here."

A tide of euphoria swept over me. I was certainly glad that Graham wasn't going to ask me to service his needs in a semi-public place. Unfortunately, the euphoria didn't last very long.

"No, I want you to follow me downstairs to the car park. The back seat of my car is a lot more comfortable than this draughty stairwell."

I was mortified. How could he expect me to leave my clothes in the flat and follow him naked down the stairs to the car park; and what if he then wanted to take me for a spin in his car! I knew that some people would have regarded the idea as a fantasy come true, but in my book it was a definite no-no.

"Don't tell me you would rather suck my cock on the landing, Trevor. I'm sure the back seat of my car would be..."

I didn't wait for Graham to finish his sentence. I stepped forward and dropped to my knees.

* * *

Paul and Graham wasted no time in congratulating themselves on the way they had conspired to humiliate me on the landing; and to make matters worse, I was told that Paul's neighbor was away visiting her daughter in Wales, so there was never any chance of her seeing me in the nude. The two friends kept going over the details of my humiliation as they tied me to the bed and went to work on my cock and ball sac with hot candle wax.

I was taken to the holding cell and placed in the wooden chair when the two men had finished with me. Graham used twice the amount of rope that was needed to secure me to the chair, and tied each length a good deal tighter than Paul ever did.

In the morning, I was released from my bonds and sent off to the bathroom to get cleaned up and ready for another session on the bed. This time, I was ordered to sit on the end of the bed with my feet apart; and as I did so, Graham knelt down in front of me and fastened a pair of leather straps around my ankles. The straps were then secured to a metal leg-spreader and tied to the legs of the bed with rope.

With my legs held fast, Paul told me to lie back on the bed and spread out my arms. The two men then fastened leather straps around my wrists and secured them to the bed with rope.

"Right-tee-ho," said Graham, as he held up a black leather blindfold that was padded and shaped like the Lone Ranger's mask. "With this on, you'll be ready for the party."

"Party, what party?" I asked.

The two men laughed as Paul took hold of my cock in one hand and my ball sac in the other.

"We've invited a few friends over for an afternoon of debauchery. And guess what! You're going to be the life and pussyboy of the party."

Graham's words echoed in my ears as the blindfold was placed over my eyes. The crafty sods had set me up good and proper. They were going to pimp me out to all their friends, and I was in no position to object.

"I must be home by two o'clock," I said. "I told my mum..."

"Impossible," interrupted Paul, dismissively. "Just tell her my car broke down on the way back from Teston."

"Teston?" queried Graham.

"Yes, Trevor and I go night fishing there at weekends. Well, that's what he tells his mother. We store our imaginary rods and fishing tackle in Benson's old boathouse."

"The only rods in Benson's boathouse are those he uses to chastise his wayward guests," said Graham, as he tweaked my left nipple. "Maybe we should take Trevor down there for a real visit. We could introduce him to Peter and his two dogs - now that's an idea!"

"No. He's not ready for anything like that," said Paul coolly.

"Like what?" I asked, intrigued.

"Well," said Graham. "Peter's dogs like to fuck sissy pussyboys; and some of the pussyboys like to suck canine cock. Have you ever seen a fully erect canine cock, Trevor?"

"No," I replied.

"Well, Devil and Dain have really big dog cocks. Paul has a film of them fucking a man at one of our little gatherings. The poor sod wanted to have sex with one of our boys, but he had nothing to trade. So I came up with the idea of the dogs and the film. He wasn't too keen on the idea at first, but I eventually persuaded him to give it a go."

"How do the dogs do it?" I asked.

"With a good deal of enthusiasm," replied Graham, laughing.

"No, I mean..."

"He knows what you mean," interrupted Paul. "The pussyboy gets down on his hands and knees and the dog mounts him from the rear."

"Just like he would a bitch," added Graham.

"Stop getting the boy so excited," said Paul. "Look, his cock's rock hard just thinking of being a dog bitch."

"Well, stop playing with it then, stupid!"

Paul squeezed my cock real hard before releasing it. He then got off the bed and mumbled something uncomplimentary about Graham under his breath. My cock began to twitch violently as the image of a man being fucked by a big black dog took hold of my imagination. I was becoming a real pervert, and looking forward to getting assfucked and gang banged by the two dogs and it didn't bother me in the least.

"Come on, Paul," said Graham, opening the bedroom door. "Let's leave the lad to stew for a while."

Outside, a clap of thunder signaled the beginnings of a storm that would rumble on for hours. I could hear the rain beating against the window as I tested my bonds and tried to make myself more comfortable. Unfortunately, Paul and Graham had ensured that this wasn't going to be an easy thing to do. The ropes and leather straps around my wrists and ankles had been fastened real tight, and before leaving the room, Graham had looped a rope around the base of my swollen cock and tied it securely to the leg-spreader.

I lay on the bed for what seemed like hours. I could hear, over the sound of the mounting storm, muffled voices in the hallway from time to time, but no one came into the room. I began to think that Paul and Graham had forgotten about me completely. Some party, I thought. What if the two sods...

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing. I strained to hear if someone had entered the room, and sensed that they had.

"Nice," said an unfamiliar voice. "You're all trussed up like a real chicken."

I was as scared as I was excited, and my whole body shook when the man's hand closed around my semi-erect cock.

"This feels nice. Do you want me to lick it into shape?"

"Y-y-yes, please," I replied gratefully."

"Okay. But you must suck me off first; that's the rule."

The man clambered onto the bed and took up a sixty-nine position above me. From what I could feel, he was completely naked and very hairy. His cock was pencil-thin and bone-hard; and when it entered my mouth, it just kept going.

"No slacking now, boy," he said sternly. "Take it all in!"

I gagged when his ball sac cut off my air supply - my nose was being crushed under his body weight and there was nothing I could do about it. I thought about biting his cock, but decided against it: I sensed that he was the type of man who would enjoy doing the same to me, or worse.

I rattled around in my bonds and tried to break free. It was then that he finally raised himself up and let me suck in some fresh air. However, a few minutes later I was back in the same position again.

"Come on, boy," he snapped. "If you don't do it properly, I'll be obliged to piss down your throat."

I gagged again as I tried to service his needs in the best way I knew how. The man cut off my air supply three more times before coating the back of my throat with sperm. He then declared that I was a slacker and promptly left the room.

The next man to enter the room was far less demanding. He squatted over my face and encouraged me to work on his asshole with the tip of my tongue. Unfortunately, he too left the room without taking care of my needs. The third and last man to take advantage of my pent-up frustration was Ancient Harry: a man in his seventies who couldn't get it up any more.

Harry kept me on the brink of a climax for ages. He filled my head with vivid and detailed stories of how, when working as a teacher, he had persuaded dozens of boys to get naked and have sex with him. He then went on to tell me about the orgies he had attended, and how Graham, a fellow housemaster, had turned some of the boys in his care into obedient sex slaves.

Harry untied the rope around the base of my cock and told me to beg for relief. I gratefully complied, and in addition, promised to take good care of all the cocks that were waiting outside the room to shag me that afternoon. Harry immediately went back to work on my cock with his tongue and lips; and as he did so, a deluge of sperm erupted from my knob and disappeared down his throat.

I recall raising my head off the mattress and whooping like a monkey as the old man took care of my needs. My whole body shook as his fingers gently caressed my ball sac, encouraging it to give up more and more of its seed. He continued to milk my ball sac for several long minutes; and when he had finished, my cock was just as hard-standing as it was before the climax.

I mumbled a few words of grateful thanks as Harry loosened my bonds and told me to get some rest. He then left the room.

From the sound of it, the storm was getting worse. A sudden clap of thunder made me start as I tried to settle down and recover my strength for the forthcoming fuck-fest. A favorite fantasy then began to drift through my mind as I lay in the dark, listening to the rain beating rhythmically against the bedroom window.

* * *

In the fantasy, which was based on "The Coral Island" by R. M. Ballantyne, I was Ralph Rover, a teen cabin boy shipwrecked on a South Sea island with two friends: Jack Martin (Age: 23) and Peterkin Gay (Age: 21). Ballantyne wrote in the book that the three lads "...became the best and staunchest friends that ever tossed together on the stormy waves."

With the storm over and the ship lost, the three of us found ourselves on a sandy beach with nothing but an axe, an oar and a telescope - all else, including our clothes had disappeared beneath the waves with the Arrow. Over the next few days we quickly discovered lots of things to do with our time as we explored the island and each other's naked bodies.

On one exploration, Jack and I spotted two war-canoes approaching the island at speed. Two naked black men in the foremost canoe were being chased by a larger canoe containing a dozen or so naked warriors. When the canoes reached the beach the two men were run to ground, spread out on the sand and repeatedly ****d by their fearsome-looking captors.

Following their ordeal, the two men were tied together in a sixty-nine position and forced, at spear point, to suck cock. Meanwhile, a group of five warriors were dispatched by the chief to secure the canoes and make camp. It was then that a warrior collecting firewood discovered Peterkin lurking in the bushes some distance away from where Jack and I were hidden.

The eighteen-year-old cabin boy tried to escape, but tripped on a tangled root and was seized by the arm. He tried to reason with the warrior as he was thrown over the man's shoulder and slapped hard across the buttocks.

The cannibal continued to slap Peterkin across the ass-cheeks as he walked back to the makeshift camp. Jack and I looked at one another in disbelief and concluded, in a whisper, that Peterkin's rescue would be impossible to achieve. Therefore, we decided to keep our heads down and see what happened to our young friend.

The two cock-sucking captives were forgotten in the warriors rush to welcome back the man carrying Peterkin. A cheer of joy went up as the chief ran his coal-black hand over the youngster's smooth, white bottom. Peterkin knew his fate was sealed - the cannibals would **** him for sure, then spit-roast him over an open fire. The captain of the Arrow had told him all about the natives of the South Sea Islands. "They like to tenderize their food before they eat it, son," he would say.

Jack and I watched as Peterkin was lowered to the ground and forced to stand in the centre of the group. Every inch of the youngster's body was then squeezed, fondled and stroked by the men around him. Fingers were pushed into his mouth and asshole as the warriors pinched his nipples, squeezed his ass-cheeks and fondled his ball sac.

Peterkin moaned and fluttered his eyelids when a long, black finger entered his inner sanctum. The warriors around him smiled as he sucked hard on the finger in his mouth. Peterkin wasn't stupid: he knew that the chief and his underlings might want to keep him around if he co-operated. He could become their special bum-boy, the white-skin who loved to suck black cock.

Peterkin dropped to his knees and sucked each warrior's cock in turn, ensuring that no one was left out in his enthusiasm to become their special bum-boy. Jack and I could see the logic behind our friend's plan, but believed it was doomed to failure.

A few minutes later, the chief broke away from the group and scanned the irregular line of palm trees and bushes that bordered the beach. He believed that there were more white-skins hiding in the undergrowth, and so, taking up a spear, he decided to investigate. Jack and I panicked when we saw him running up the beach toward us. We knew he couldn't see us, but still we broke cover and headed inland like frightened rabbits.

A loud war cry went up behind us as the chief called upon his men to join the hunt. Jack and I decided to split up and go our separate ways. We hastily agreed to stay away from our camp and head for the other side of the island. Needless to say, we were both captured within the hour.

The man who stayed behind to look after the cannibals" dinner was busy tenderizing Peterkin's bottom when Jack and I were carried into camp. Like captured deer, we each hung from a long wooden pole by vines tied around our wrists and ankles. And to make matters worse, the four warriors shouldering the two poles had dragged our ass-cheeks through every kind of prickly bush they could find on the trail.

We were unceremoniously dropped on the ground and tied together in a sixty-nine position. It was then that the fantasy suddenly ended - the bedroom door had been opened and the spell broken when someone said, in a rather excited voice, "Lumme! Look at that stiffy."

"Now gather round you reprobates," said Graham, clapping his hands together to gain everyone's attention. "This is Trevor, the young man with 'the stiffy'."

"He's a nice looking lad," said a man on my left. "I like 'em tall and skinny."

"Yeah, he sure is skinny," said another man on my left. "How old is he?"

"He'll be s*******n next month, but we keep his cock and ball sack shaved so he looks like twelve," said Paul.

"Nice to meet you, Trevor," said a man on my right, as he took hold of my throbbing cock and gave it a squeeze. Two more men did the same as Paul and Graham were congratulated on their new find.

I later discovered that there were five naked men in the room - the three other boy-lovers, the ones that had visited me earlier, were in the living-room taking care of another sixteen-year-old boy.

"Release those straps from the leg-spreader, Ian," said Graham. "Let's get his boy legs up in the air."

Someone tightened the ropes that secured my wrist-straps to the bed and made sure the blindfold I was wearing was still doing its job. I then felt two pairs of hands take hold of my legs and lift them into the air - the image of a giant wishbone being broken in two suddenly flashed through my mind again.

"Get his ass up, and the boycunt spread open," said Graham.

Howard and Ian, the two men holding my legs, doubled my body over and held it in a jack-knife position, with my asshole pointing up at the ceiling.

"Look at that ball-sac," said Ian. "It's so round and..."

"His pussy asshole is the real prize," interrupted Howard.

"That's true," said Graham, as he ran the tip of his finger over my bum-hole.

I lifted my head off the mattress and gave out a long, low moan of pleasure, which I repeated when Graham ran his finger over my anus again.

"That sounds so fuckin" sweet," said John. "C'mon, let me have a go."

John eased my ass-cheeks apart and used the tip of his tongue to replace Graham's finger. I gasped and tugged at my wrist-straps when the tongue sent a shockwave of pleasure surging through my body. I had never felt anything like it, and was keen to experience the sensation again, and again, and again.

"Hold him steady," barked Graham. "We don't want him bouncing off the bed and out of the room."

"Look at him go," said Paul. "The little sod can't get enough."

The sensation had swallowed me up whole. My entire body ached, and yet I was quite happy to stay bent over and let the man work on my bum-hole with his warm, wet tongue.

Suddenly, John stopped what he was doing and released my ass-cheeks. My cock twitched and bounced around in mid- air as I raised my head up and implored him to continue.

"You've turned him into an addict, John," said Ian. "He'll be bending over and spreading his ass-cheeks for everyone now. Ain't that right, son?"

"Yes, yes, sir" I said breathlessly.

"Okay, Trevor," said John. "Once more round the block; then we get to fuck you."

Howard and Ian tightened their grip on my legs when John's tongue went back to work on my asshole. My whole body buzzed with excitement as the sensation suddenly returned and wiped me out for a second time. And then, when a bottle of poppers was waved under my nose I lost it completely and began drooling at the mouth like a mad fool.

"Fuckin" hell," said Ian. "He's having a fit."

"Nonsense," snapped Graham. "He's just over excited."

"Yes," added Howard. "The poor sod's in need of a good old fashioned gangbang. So let's give him one."

I was still on cloud nine when the first of the five cocks entered my well rimmed fuckhole. It slipped in effortlessly - thanks in the main to John's hard work and a good coating of Vaseline on the stem. With my legs now bent at the knees and held less securely, I was in a far better position to take on a five-star rogering.

"C'mon, John," said Ian. "Keep pounding that sweet little boyhole. I want to see it red raw and gaping open all by itself by the time I get a taste."

I shook my head from side to side and groaned as John increased his stroke rate and began power ramming my "sweet little hole'. Every inch of my body was now dancing to his tune. I was there for his pleasure, and that's why my cock was leaking so much pre-cum and threatening to shed its load unaided. I was being fucked by an alpha male with an insatiable appetite for the weak and willing, and boy, was I weak and willing!

Paul and Graham were totally mesmerized by John's vigorous performance. They watched, green with envy, as his powerful buttocks pounded my body into the mattress.

"Look at him go," said Paul to Howard.

"Yes," added Graham. "The man could fuck for England."

"He gets a lot of practice," said Howard. "In fact, Ian and John work together at the same c***dren's home, so they're always practicing on the boys in their care."

"True, true," said Ian. "But it's not always a good idea to fuck a boy at the home. That's why we use Howard's cottage. It's in the middle of nowhere and the perfect place to consummate a new relationship."

"Maybe we should pool our resources one weekend and arrange an orgy," suggested Graham. "We could meet up at the..."

It was the words "Yes! Yes! Yes!" that interrupted Graham in mid-sentence. John had reached a climax and was eager to share the news with everyone in the room, if not the flat. I began to tug at my wrist-straps and whoop like a monkey as he released his seed.

Howard was quick to step into the breach and take over from his spent friend. His hard-standing cock slipped effortlessly into my bum-hole; and although it didn't stay there for long, it did leave quite an impression.

"Any objections to turning the lad over?" asked Ian, who was next in line to take me for a ride. "I want to bum him doggy style."

"I'd like to fuck him that way, too," said Graham.

"Okay," said Paul, "release those straps, turn him over and get him up on his hands and knees with his ass sticking up in the air."

Of course, I had no say in the matter. However, I did welcome a change of position - being bent over double wasn't doing me much good in the old aches and pains department.

"Okay, chaps," said Ian. "I'm going in, so wish me luck."

Several men laughed as Ian took hold of my hips and pushed his cock deep into my rectum. I felt his cock-head enter my inner sanctum and rub against my prostate gland. He then began power ramming my hole for all he was worth.

"C'mon you slack bastard," barked Graham. "Tighten those ass muscles and give the man a ride to remember."

I thrust out my ass and clenched my asshole as tight as I could, which did prompt a grunt of approval from Ian.

"Give him some more poppers, Paul," said John. "He might need a little boost."

Paul opened the bottle of amyl nitrite and waved it under my nose. My head began to swim the second the vapor hit my sinuses.

"That's it, Trevor," said John. "Let the nice man fuck your ass and fill it up with spunk."

My head dropped as I gave out a long, low moan of satisfaction. I didn't want this moment to end, but Ian had other plans. His climax wiped me out completely; and as sweat poured from my body, he thrust forward and filled my rectum with semen.

I collapsed onto my forearms and used the bed sheet to wipe away the sweat from my face. It was then that Ian's cock was withdrawn and replaced by another hard-standing member.

Graham fucked me like a man possessed. He slapped my thighs, pulled on my hair and called me all the names under the sun. This was Graham at his classic best: the adult master dominating his teenage slave. The sight of seeing those from another circle fuck me had triggered one of his best performances. My boypussy was now awash with four lots of fuck seed.

Paul was more of a sucker than a fucker, so when his turn came, my shattered body was spared another full-blown rogering. Instead, I was treated to a fuck-suck fest.

He pushed his hard-standing cock into my well lubricated hole and kept it there while someone wiped me down with a damp cloth. He then told me to lie flat out on the bed, which I did by collapsing onto my front, with his body on top of mine, and stretching out my arms and legs in slow motion.

Paul kissed the back of my neck and playfully bit my right shoulder as he humped me slowly. The tiredness in my arms and legs all but vanished as his cock gently rubbed against my prostate gland. In just a few minutes he had breathed new life into my body.

"How does that feel, son?" he asked.

I mumbled a few words of grateful thanks and sighed when he suddenly raised himself up and removed his cock.

"Now turn over, son. I need to take care of that cock of yours."

It was going to be a long night.

End