maybe-next-time-8

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Subject: Maybe Next Time 8 See original story (fty//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./donate.html to keep the cum coming. You should also set up AMAZON SMILE so that your purchases on Amazon earn contributions to Nifty! It’s a great, zero-cost way to enhance the support 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 gaziantep escort 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 suriyeli escort 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 entr�e 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 rus escort 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. 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! If you want news on new stories and chapters, please join my Google Group at https://groups.google/d/forum/bear-pup-news If you want to give me ANY feedback that could make me a better author, e-mail me at orson.cadell@ Now on Tumblr: Bear Pup — Beyond Nifty blr/ Active storelines, all at fty//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/

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