A cop, some thugs and a lot of tickling, cum control and fucking in this classic story by Jeff Kincaid originally published on Jack's Male Tickling Rack.

A Short Story For J.P.
by Jeff Kincaid

ticklerYES, YES, IT WAS A FUCKIN' ROUGH INNER-CITY NEIGHBORHOOD we all grew up in... and ya know what, buddy?

We had a fuckin' ball, even if gettin' out was the ultimate idea. The wimps 'n the nerds worked on it by gettin' them good grades at school, scorin' Up There on the SAT's and applyin' for the big scholarships to the prestige universities. The coaches helped the jocks cheat their averages up to a low C and, hey, them "prestige universities" put more dough into athletic scholarships than academic, right?

Slam dunk the basketball... run the pigskin through the goal posts... you put the ghetto behind your ass as good as if you were goin' for your LI.D., your MD, or any other fuckin' "D."

The rest of us, well, there was always the neighborhood branch of the inner city's main business--you know, the mob. The syndicate. Organized crime. Even while you was in the single digits age-wise you could earn a few bucks as a runner an' then, as you got up into your teens, you could do 'em some "favors" they might 'preciate a little more. Maybe a lot more, dependin'.

Deliverin' shit, I mean. Keepin' your eyes out an' your ear to the gutter. Helpin' out when the strong-arm boys needed an extra hand teachin' some deadbeat a lesson back'a the alley.

Later on some'a the guys took them kind'a expertises 'n applied to join the fuckin' Police Department ...like me. Ain't nothin' like maintainin' law 'n order out on the street and down in the basement back room at the precinct house. Gives ya a feelin' a' power an' accomplishment, knockin' bad guys in the head 'n offerin' the store owners on University Avenue a better class 'a protection.

The hookers, too.

All ya gotta do is know how t' be discreet, man. The city's yer oyster. Sure was mine by the time I was fuckin' 22, which is when this incident takes place. You should'a seen me, man; I swear, I was every faggot's hard-boiled dream. Five eleven, two hunnid 'n forty fuckin' pounds, the kind'a tight-chiseled physique that makes a cop's uniform fill out like it was a goddain muscle-tee. A shock 'a dark tousled hair on the head, high cheekbones, dark cheeks if I use the electric razor instead'a the twin blades. Thick brows, ice-blue eyes.

Below the thick, football player-sized neck, a set 'a squared-off deltoids like a pair of fuckin' epaulettes all by themselves, the one on the right sportin' the tattoo of a Sioux warrior's shield, feathers hangin' down t' kiss the big blue vein that starts t' throb out from under the little indent at the upper edge 'a my nineteen-inch bicep. The matchin' nineteen-inch muscle of my left arm's been decorated separately, with the tattoo of a skull, a butcher knife in one 'a the eye sockets.

Only two kinds'a people see the body art... an' lemme tell ya, man, both'a the kinds're the kinds I fuck, one way or the other.

Got lotsa hair on my fuckin' pecs, I figure you'll be interested to know. We're talkin' 'bout a pair 'a mirror-image slabs risin' like a set of real steep palisades a full inch up off a my rib cage. The nipples at the comers are like pink satin volcanoes, each'a the areolas as big around as fifty-cent pieces taperin' up outta the sea of hair t' peak in a pebble 'a flesh some lucky lovers get ta taste with the tips'a their tongues an' gnaw with the edge of their teeth.

What these sex partners--an' me, too! -- dig the most is the fact that the pec hair fills them slabs without spillin' over to louse up the looks 'a my shoulders or back or belly. Most 'a that stuff is smooth-skinned, although there is a real nice tree trunk growin' up the center of the ripplin' washboard between my stinkin' ol' crotch and my pectoral ridge. It's so fuckin' perfect, man, my goddarn navel looks like a knot-hole in that tree trunk!

The whole system is rooted in the fragrant triangle that spills like a blackhaired bougainvilla all over my crotch, a Velcro-like Brillo pad twinin' around the blue-veined root 'a my gnarly ol' prick and the leathery ball-bag suspended beneath. Another line 'a these macho curls sneaks down along the perineurn to protect my cherry asshole from guys like you who think if they ask nice I'll throw my goddarn thighs up around their shoulders an' play the part 'a some stupid nympho cunt.

Ain't gonna happen, bitch. Shit on my dick, that's okay with me. Dick on my shit? You'd have ta knock me out 'n tie me up and when y' hear the rest 'a this story I don't think you're gonna have the fuckin' stones. If ya did I'd 'a had ya gimine a hand with the problem Captain Vinniga called me in on last week; you probably would'a had the kind'a dirty mind I could'a used t' get the truth outta Sgt. Santini.

What it was was that the Captain wasn't nobody's dumb shit. Over the course of a month or so he began to suspect that Santini and some 'a the other guys in the elite unit were usin' their status t' pad their pockets. I'm talkin' above an' beyond the usual routine, like sellin' the crud in the evidence locker back t' the dealers. Actin' as, you know, bill collectors. There was even a rumor that Santini an' the guys in the squad were behind a couple'a the big-time kidnaps what went down last month, back to back.

The ransom money sure disappeared down a black hole!

"I need t' get Paulie t' talk," Vinniga told me in his squad car when the Chief suggested I meet with him outside the 23rd (just in case the office was wired). Unnerstan' now, the main reason the Chief put me on it was cuz the 23rd was out 'a my territory. I wasn't in with the cops there. More important, they didn't know me 'cept maybe by reputation.

"Whaddaya want me t' do," I asked back, "get friendly with 'im?" That'd take a year, maybe, and the way I heard it, the Department was in a rush... which left what, "the rubber hose? Truth serum? A wire 'a my own?"

Vinnega didn't give a fat flying fuck, as long as I got Paulie singin' like a boid by the end'a the week. "That's the fucka now."

He tilted his head at 'the precinct door an' I nearly shit a fuckin' brick, man. That was fuckin' "Paulie?" Sgt. Santini?

"You know 'im?"

I wasn't completely sure. "If he's the muthafticka I 'm thinkin' of, shit, it's been six years. Maybe seven. Kid did a lotta growin' up since then.

Almost as much as me. Not that the kid I knew back then when we was teenagers was one'a them wuzzes I mentioned earlier. The Paulie I usta know was a tough sonofabitch, a real street fighter with the bod t' back it up. Even in them days he was a heavyweight, a hunnid 'n ninety-something minimum, an' like me it was all gym-sculpted. We're talkin' an eye-tralyan blond with brown eyes who liked t' swagger around the neighborhood flexin' his pecs an' smellin' sweaty in the pits. He was mostly smooth-skinned--just a kind'a golden down on his chest, nothin' on the belly--but that didn't make him soft. A kid with as much fuzz as he had in them stinkin' armpits, with as big a fuckin' pubic bush, nobody 'cept maybe me would even think it was a good idea to get in his face, specially when he liked to bust yer chops so much.

The local consigliere had his eye on young Paulie, an' I figured he graduated to the big-time shit with the mob when he checked outta the area. Seein' him takin' the same career path as me, fuck, talk about being rocked back on the ol' heels -doubly so to see how good he'd maintained that tough, street-wise set'a muscles. If he was a hunnid 'n ninety-plus when I knew 'im then, he was two-ten now. Two twenny, could be. Them biceps were like torpedoes, man, an' the pecs looked like they was carved outta fuckin' marble, separated by the grand fuckin' canyon: that's how chiseled they was. The belly was even flatter 'n mine, the waist real narrow, and the legs? Pillars, believe me!

"Toldja it wasn't gonna be a walk in the country," Vinnega said. I didn't recall him sayin' that, but he did kind'a infer it, and he wasn't shittin' me, baby: gettin' a stud that well put-together, with that kind'a street-smart background, to spill the beans was gonna take every last ounce 'a ingenuity I had. Fact was, if I blew it Paulie'd see to it that it was me what got fucked. I'm saying fucked: his cock up my ass rippin' me inside-out. Like in "fucked to death."

A dude like you might call that one helluva way to go. Not me; I don't even like them medical exams where the doc says "cough."

"I wouldn't take it kindly," the Captain was tellin' me, "if you was backin' outta the assignment."

"Who said squat about 'backin' out' 'a anythin'?' I snapped. "I just gotta figure the best way 'a gettin' under 'is skin, is all. I mean, if he is the same bastard I usta pal around with, I gotta jog the ol' memory... see if there was anythin' he got so scared just thinkin' about he shat in his fuckin' jeans."

Trouble with that logic is a bruiser is a bruiser is a bruiser, man, 'specially when the shitheel is Santini's size. There sure wasn't nothin' I could think of off a the top'a my head that'd get Paulie cowerin' in a comer sayin,' "okay, man, okay, whatever ya want, man, just take that thing away from me, okay?"

'See, there was no "thing." Period. He dug dogs--Shepherds, Dobies, Rottweilers, Wolves. He weren't allergic ta cats. He thought rats were put in the slums so's he could bite their heads off. Chomp. Wimmen was ta fuck, sometimes two or three at a time, and the gang-bangers rappin' outside 'a the mystic lodge hall? They was here t' give Paulie a good fight, but Paulie was here to punch their noses out the back'a their skulls.

He wasn't scared, 'a the dark, neither, 'n he was together enuff t' get a good night's sleep in a coffin with the lid fuckin' on. Y' couldn't threaten 'im with prison; shee-itt, who d' ya think'd be king 'a the cell block rackets two days after he checked in? The only time I ever saw Santini shake in his boots was when...

... Was when...

... I was up on the roof of the ol' five-story walk-up at 619 Simpson with whatsername, the two-bit back-alley slut. Mona, that's it. No chick more aptly named. Man oh man, did she ever go t' town on cock, which's why I wasn't all that flattered when she gave me sloppy seconds 'n thirds, too. All y' hadda be with Mona was hard enuff. she was nuts enough t' do the rest, slobberin' 'n heavin' 'n thumpin' her ass against the tar paper like she wannid t' get them cheeks sandpapered.

Anyway, I finally exhausted the gooey swamp she called her "pencil sharpener" 'n we was just lyin' there catchin' our breath when the metal-covered stairwell door was slammed open from inside 'n Paulie comes out onto the fuckin' roof with his sister Addie's two brats--that's Gino and Jacko; they was what, eighteen, 'n not as well-built as their cousin. Nobody was, 'cept me.

Not that I don't wantcha t' get the wrong impression, man, Gino and Jacko were mighty good-lookin' young studs... better'n most their age. Lotsa prime meat on the bones, in all the right places, with the potential for the Young Mr. Teenage America if they was industrious enuff in the weight room over in the Taft High School gym.

Punkily handsome faces, incidentally. Marky Mark shit, y' know what I mean.

I cupped my palm splat down over Mona's mouth and scrunched the both 'a us back into the shadows--them Santinis weren't the kind'a JD's who dug unexpected surprises. They weren't above actin' first and runnin' away from the consequences... like throwin' them what surprised them off a the fuckin' roof, 'specially if they got interrupted while they was in the middle of a big ol' family argument, which is what they were.

paulie2"C'mon, Paulie, " Gino was whinin. ' "We got a right t' know where ya hid it.

"Yeah," Jacko concurred (how's that f' a silver-dollar woid?), but the 19-year old wasn't havin' none'a that crap. He didn' care what their goddam "rights" was, he wasn't gonna clue 'em in, he said as he walked around to the other side of the roof, 'n that was that.

Well, that gimme the chance to get Mona outta my hair before the three Santinis discovered they was bein' eavesdropped on. I balled the chick's clothes and shoved them 'tween her fuckin' tits, hissin. ' "Get goin!"

I could see the gears goin' around in her stupid eyeballs. It was probably the safest thing, hittin' the staircase before Paulie 'n his cousins saw her. On the other hand, they represented three more cocks. 'N now that Mona had a couple'a minutes' breather she was rarin' t' go all over again, the more the merrier.

I kicked her naked butt through the cracked-open door and shut it between us, tellin' her if she made a fuckin' sound I would be the one who pitched her over the edge six stories down to the sidewalk below. "Capish?"

She capish'd, all right. That was the last I saw of the cunt... that day. I mean, hey, my curiosity was aroused. I wanted t' know what Paulie was withholdin' from his relatives. So I snuck around all the shit on the roof 'n found a nice concealed area to spy on 'em from, an' guess what I heard 'im say to 'em?

"There ain't nothin' you guys could do t' me that'd get me t' talk"--that's what. It was real challengin,' like Paulie was darin' 'em t' try. Like they was willin' t' test their mettle, judgin' from the glances the two of 'em gave each other before they advanced on the older kid.

The bigger kid.

"We can make ya talk, Paulie, " Jacko grinned --- the cat that knew he was about t' get the fuckin' cream. "Y' too chicken t' let us work y' over?"

Paulie snorted. There wasn't nothin' Jacko and/or Gino, could put 'im through he couldn't take... "but there's gotta be a time limit. I ain't lettin' you fuckers put me through it forever."

"Two hours?"


"Deal. "

"Okay! " The kids high-fived each other, their palms resonating. "Y' wanna back up t' that grid?"

...Sure." Paulie didn't sound so fuckin' sure t' me... but he backed up against the iron, anyway. I mean, them guys was his kin. They wouldn't pull no real shit on him, right?

They were comin' at him from both sides, Gino orderin' the young muscleboy t' stretch his arms alla way out along the horizontal rail that crossed his back at the height of his shoulder blades.

"Like this?"

"Wider." As far as they'd reach, "Yeah. Like that. Good." Jacko pulled a length of clothes line outta the back pocket of his Levis. Gino pulled another length of the shit outta his, too. They really thought Paulie was gonna let 'em tie him up?

"Yeah," Gino said, already beginning t' wrap the rope around his older cousin's wrist and the metal of the bar behind it. "Cuz; you don't wan' us t' tell everybody y' went back on your word, do ya.

He damn well didn't. A neighborhood like this, that's all ya got t' trade on, sometimes. People start t' think 'a you as an Indian giver, shit, you got no buddies what trust ya no more.

Bravado came to his face. Damned handsome look, if I remembered right. "Go ahead," he double-dog dared them. "Ain't no way you can tie me up I can't get out, I want."

"You keep on thinkin' that, cuz," Jacko sneered, fastening the tightly bralded cord around the opposite wrist and then slipping it between the figure-eights he'd already looped it into around the hand and the rod: there was no way Paulie's fingers were going to be able to even get near the knot he was making.

Another equal lengths of the rope came out of the kids' kit, these put to good use fastening the crook of Paulie's elbows to the iron behind him. I was real impressed with the tightness of the coils as they fixed the knots--you could tell by the way the big blue vein just under the surface of the big stud's imprisoned biceps began to swell. And pulse.

Hey... was the sonofabitch sweating? His eyes sure were darting around and, man, you should'a seen the way his tongue all of a sudden came flickering out from, between his teeth, moistening his lips real nervous-like.

"Legs next," the kid cousins agreed, more pieces of clothesline out in their hands. Each one'a them took one'a Paulie's stompin' boot-covered legs and yanked 'em sideways, binding them just above the ankles (just below the calves) to separate stancheons about three feet apart.

Maybe he started out thinkin' they couldn't keep him tied permanent when, they began. My guess was he was beginning, to think real different now... but 'a course, he should'a done somethin' about it before they had 'is arms tied out like he was some kind'a fuckin' scarecrow. By the time them baby-faced punks had just one 'a his feet lashed to the iron behind it the fuckin' muscle-boy had had it... even if he didn't know it yet. I mean, Paulie was so fuckin' full 'a himself he still figured he could get himself loose just by kickin' out at them with the leg they were just now gettin' around t' tyin' down. A couple'a kicks, a lotta squirmin,' shee-itt, man, the stud thought them knots'd just pop open.

No--them ropes'd rip apart. All he hadda do was expand his fuckin' chest like he was fuckin' Superman or somethin.'

Trouble was, he wasn't no fuckin' Superman or somethin.' An' them two sneer-faced JD's knew their business when it came t' ropes 'n knots 'n tyin' guys with muscles so they didn't have no room to maneuver. Paulie 's biceps could boulder up all they wannid--his fingers could make the tightest fist this side'a Mike Tyson -it still wasn't gonna do 'im no fuckin' good. Gino and Jacko had 'im where they fuckin' wannid 'im 'n Mr. Macho wasn't goin' noplace.

Even tryin' t' kick them kids in the balls wasn't that much of a good idea. They moved faster than even I expected, dodging the steel-tipped boot he was tryin' t' squash their scrotums with. Before he could even bring the sonofabitch back to start a second thrust they leaped, Jac'ko grabbin' Paulie's ankle 'n Gino the middle'a 'is turkey leg thigh. Half a second later the whole fuckin' leg from the hip joint to the toes was stretched out sideways just about as far as it could go.

Farther. The proud young body-builder looked like some kind'a faggot ballet dancer gettin' set t' pirouette on point... 'cept Paule wasn't turnin' any which way. He was tied facin' front an' facin' front he was gonna stay!

Wham! Clang! His fuckin' punk-faced cousins weren't kiddin' around with the guy's fuckin' leg, man--they really slammed it up against that goddam stancheon like they was double-teamin' one'a them wrestlers in the WCW. "Hhhawwwgghhk!" the nineteen-year-old stud howled, the pain tripled cuz Gino made a point 'a really diggin' his fingernails deep into Paulie's thigh muscle 'n hamstring.

Better leverage that way, I guess.

Whatever the fuck the reason the leg-bash did what them boys wannid it t' do, which was ta kind'a paralyze that big Santini leg so that they could tie it up, too. One thing was for damn fuckin' sure--all that workin' out might'a given Paulie the kind'a Chippendale physique that makes you homo queers cream in your Calvins, but this time out it wasn't gonna come close t' savin' his cherry ass!

Fact is, their hunk of a victim would'a been better advised t' let 'em just tie the second leg the way they were originally gonna, cuz now they wasn't takin' no chances at all. Paulie's leg stayed stretched out from his fuckin' groin, tied not t' one but t' two separate stancheons: the one Gino an' Jacko first intended t' tie the whole foot ta (which now was rope-wrapped t' Santini's upper thigh so damn close t' the nuts in his piss n' cum-stained ol' basket it would'a been embarassin' ...if the asshole had any sense 'a foresight at all), an' the second, farther out, keepin' his ankle up inna air.

Shee-itt, if Paulie wasn't so completely tethered the way he was you'd'a expected 'im to hop around on the one leg still touchin' the fuckin' roofin' paper!

NOW THEY WAS CLOSIN' IN ON 'IM, smilin.' If Id'a been trussed up the way Paulie was I wouldn'ta been too cool, seein' them smirks. As it was, I was nice 'n hidden n' none'a 'em knew they had an audience... so I could let myself get kind'a turned on by the proceedin's... not that I wantcha ta get the wrong fuckin' idea, man. I mean, I wasn't gettin' no fuckin' hardon or nothin,' playin' Peepin' Tom, but y gotta admit, watchin' two stud puppies what's got a big straight jock where they want 'im, where they can do anything what they wanna with 'im an' there ain't squat he can do t' stop 'em.--that can get the ol' electrical tingle start spreadin' outta the head 'a yer dick.

Sometimes it's even enuff t' get a couple'a beads a sticky ol' pre-cum droolin' outta your fuckin' pee-hole, soakin' your fuckin' jockstrap, but that can happen to anybody, man. It don't prove nothin' about what turns y' on. Anybody says different should'a seen the way I stuck it t' Mona. The way I kept drillin' into her snatch, like a goddarn pile-driver!

Faggots don't do shit like that, okay--so don't gimme none'a that junk about my fuckin' "proclivities" when I tell ya what the fuck went on in my shorts while I was watchin' them punks move in on their big boy cousin up there on that fuckin' roof. It ain't got shit t' do with me, bitch: I wasn't the fucker they was givin' them nasty ol' smiles to. I wasn't the bastard Jacko said, "y' wanna give it up now 'n save y'self a lotta grief" to.

"I tol' ya, kid," Paulie said, real stubborn, real contemptuous, "you can work me over from now t' doomsday, you ain't gettin ' nothin' from me but this." He spat a viscous wad of bubbly spit in the direction of Jacko's face, n' Jacko back-handed 'im. without wastin' a beat. Splat! A whole new spray of saliva shot outta Santini's suddenly opened mouth along with a couple'a drops'a blood from where the kid cut Paulie's lip, in the corner.

Paulie, narrow-eyed, wore it like a badge 'a honor... which made Jacko madder'n shit. The balled-up fist at the end of his arm was all set to be plowed forward like a goddam teeth extractor; if Gino didn't catch 'im by the wrist 'n deflect the punch I swear, Santini would've spent the rest'a his fuckin' dinner times eatin' creamed corn 'n milkshakes.

"Easy, Jacko," he cooed, real malevolent. "Paulie's right. We ain't gonna get'nothin' outta him, beatin' his brains in."

"You got a better idea?"

"'Matter 'a fact, yeah." A snick! Gino's punk switchblade knife was out in his hand, the blade snapping into place. "Watch this."

I dunno about Jacko or even Paulie, but me, I was all eyes. My goddam dick was tryin' t' break through my button flys so it could see, too, as Gino patted his older cousin's handsome cheek 'n ran the finely-honed edge along the squared-off jaw like he was givin' the dude a goddam shave.

Paulie shied, inhaling loud. enuff f me t' hear from where I was watchin' from--but the sonofabitch kept his lips pressed real tight an' refused to say nothin' even when Gino slid the steel down the side'a his neck right along where the jugular vein was pulsin.' Man, you should'a heard how low and tough the punk's laugh was -'made my own fuckin' blood run cold 'n I wasn't tied up at knife-point like Santini.

Gino's free hand came up t' let 'is fingers hook down under Paulie's collar at the fuckin' collarbone--insertin' themselves between the bronzed suntanned skin 'a -his upper pecs 'n the shirt, stretchin' it out from the guy's hunky body. It was like he was usin' the hem like a strop, pretendin' t' sharpen the blade... slippin' one side "a the edge one way an' the other side on the way back. In a way, it was like he was lultin' all'a us into a false sense 'a security, until


The knife sliced down through the fabric, sundering the goddam shirt in one swift whip, baring most of that high-pec'd chest which even then was just about as succulent and luscious a piece of virile young masculinity as you could find anywhere. Golden skin flecked with a tracery of down only slightly more luxurient in the ravine between the trapezoids, Paulie's tits gave my own a real run for the fuckin' money. A pair 'a almonds, y' might say. Peach pits, only silky-smooth--the kind'a rosebuds that madeja tongue wanna slurp, spittin' 'em up t' make 'em shine. Body salt, they'd taste like, an' marshmallows.

An' custard.

Shee-itt, if Mona's nipples were as hot as Paulie's I'd still be suckin' her fuckin' tits!

"Are you crazy?" the tied-up superstud was spluttering. "Y' know how much I fuckin' paid for this fuckin' shirt?" The look of disbelief on his face--that Gino had actually turned the garment into a fuckin' rag--was somethin' t' behold.

"Yeah," the kid shrugged, rubbin' it in, "next time you'll know better'n t' wear yer good outfit when yer goin' up on the roof with a couple'a punks who don't give a fat flying fuck how much ya paid for your fuckin' clothes." The knife was slicing away at Paulie's shirt some more as he spoke, severin' the sleeves. Each one'a them fell away on either side'a the bulky, Soloflexed arms spread-eagled along the metal rod, the cloth in front flutterin' feather-like t' the rooftop, the cloth in the back under the coils'a rope drapin' backwards an' danglin.'

It was, I gotta admit, sexier'n I expected, seein' the big bruiser stripped naked t' the waist with loops'a rope at his wrists 'n elbows keepin' his arms headin' east n' west at the same fuckin' time. That was probably cuz that position gave y' a great view into his fuckin' armpits. 'See, most guys don't know this, but underarms's one'a the sexiest nooks on the body, maybe cuz; its usually hidden. Maybe cuz it's got that musky, sweet-sour vinegary stink n' them gnarly tufts 'a sweaty hair.

The gnarly tufts'a sweaty hair in Paulie's armpits sure were eye-catchin,' even a straight boy like me hasta admit. I mean, most blonds don't usually grow a fuckin' forest in there, an' the strands're usually, you know, lanky. Thin. Not Paulie, though. This stud had a couple'a real thick fuzz pads in them hollows, super curly, puffin' up like brass-colored balls 'a cotton candy. Man, was he ripe--I could smell that sucker from where I was watchin.'

He sure didn't use no deodorant, n' I don't think he used too much fuckin' soap, neither.

"Last chance, cuz," Gino was tellin' 'im when I managed to tear my fuckin' eyes (and nose!) away from them armpits. "Talk t' us now or Jacko 'n me are gonna start in... 'n once we do I promise ya, Paulie, you're gonna beg us t' stop."

"Go fuck y'self. "

"Paulie." An elaborate sigh from Jacko, shakin' his head from side to side like he really was fuckin' sorry that the nineteen-year-old really wannd t' put himself through the forthcomin' ordeal. "Paulie, Paulie, Paulie. Some assholes've gotta learn the hard way."

Gino was eyein' his cousin's hairy armpits more for Paulie's benefit than his own, simultaneously talkin' to Jacko outta the side'a his mouth in the kind'a way designed t' make the husky young prisoner sweat without yet bein' touched. "Yeah," he snickered. "Lookit ol' Paulie, tryin' t' stay cool... 'cept he ain't really as 'cool' as he's tryin' t' pretend. Y' know how I know?"

His fingertips Ruffed the top of the shrubbery in their victim's left armpit, patting it ever so gently... after which he took the ends of a couple'a the strands 'n rolled them like he was rollin' himself one'a them home-grown cigarettes, pulling them up till the roots began to stretch the follicles at the base of the bush.

"Gettin' real soupy in here, see?" Several beads of sweat were welling up, quivering as they poised themselves to drip out of the rain forest and trickle down the vee'd-out wings of Paulie's wedge-shaped lats. Gino's fingers put a stop to the incipient rivulets, delving through the briar patch t' smear the gook down into the lower part of the cup, where the hair didn't grow... and guess what, man?

Paulie laughed! No shit, it was like all the air in his fuckin' lungs was forced t' bellow out in a gush n,' holy shit, did he ever try to twist back--you know, t' melt away.

"He's ticklish! " Jacko whooped.

"No," the brawny captive said in the kind'a denial which may've been real quick on the draw but so fuckin' what? The muthafucka was still quackin' cuz Gino was gettin' as much of 'is sweat as he could coatin' his fingers and, no kiddin,' it really did look like Paulie was the kind'a ticklish y' don't wanna be when two young sadists've gotcha all tied up 'n helpless, no way t' fight back.

"Oh, yeah, Paulie," Gino intoned as he brought them sweat-slick fingers up at Paulie's face. "You're a fuckin' laugher, man, and I dunno if y' know this about me n' Jacko, but we really get off a lot, tyin' big straight studs like you up 'n makin' em choke with laughter."

Another "no" emerged from the nineteen-year-old's suddenly sagged-open mouth, real fear glazing Paulie's eyes as his eighteen-year-old cousin painted his lips with the glycerine-like sweat he'd just stolen outta Paulie's own armpits. The liquid glossed the muscle-jock's mouth, making the lower lip especially look as though it was swellin' up with lust.

"Lookin' hot, man," Jacko commented over Gino's shoulder, his own fingers stealing up into the other of Paulie's sticky ol' armpits. I betcha yer tits'd look good, too, all lipsticked up like that." Once again the big guy leaped up against his bonds, shaking the basically immoveable cage they had him attached to as though he really thought he could rip it up outta the roof.

Fat chance. Paulie was too busy laughin' again, tying to catch his breath as Gino began tickling his side f' real while Jacko slicked up the areola of his nipple -which was easily as sensitive as his armpits and ribs. Man, did those diabolical bastards have that fucker in trouble. Deep shit trouble. He was huskin' an' howlin,' thrashin' around an' they never let up on him, not even givin' 'im a chance to catch ,his breath. All the tied-up muthafucka could do was shake 'n quiver 'n convulse, goin' "no, stawp, enuff, c'mon,puh-leeese! Oh, Gawd, anythin,' man, I'll talk, okay? Huh? Y' got me, stawwwwppp!! "

"Toldja once we got started you'd beg us t' stop, right?"

"Yeah," Jacko concurred. "Gino also toldja we wouldn't, remember?"

"Now y' just gotta hang there stripped naked all tied up like a cocksucker 'n laugh till we get tired'a makin' y' fuckin' laugh," the more creative of the sadists declared.

"Oh, jeez, lemme catch my breath, gimme a break, guys, hahahaaaaa, no, huhhaaaahhhaaa, no more! Ha! Haahahaaa! MMMMNNNYYAAAHHHH -- !!" His bicuspids was biting into his sweat-slicked lower lip, but it wasn't doing any good: all four of their hands were lookin' out for where else Paulie was ticklish, Gino undoin' his belt In pullin' it outta the loops of his jeans. "Nawwwhhh, lemme my pants, man, I ain't ticklish down there, I'm tellin' y, ' y' gotta back off, aahhhhaaaahhhaa! He's openin' my pants--yankin' 'em down--HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAHHH!!"

"Hey, lookit this, Gino," Jacko said, the ends of his fingers tracing the ravine separating the tops of Paulie's mightily muscled thighs from the sides of his lower abdomen. "This really makes Cousin Paulie shriek."

"Yeah, he's goin' bananas, awwright, " Gino concurred, watching that incredibly sculptured physique strain, undulating and spasming. "Kitchy kitchy koo, man."


A new snick! Gino'd reopened his switchblade n' now he was turnin' Paulie's 501's into new lengths of rope... not that either he or Jacko needed any. "Get them boots off," he ordered as he peeled the denim off the creamy flesh of Paulie's bulging thighs, and the hairier skin between his knees and his calves. "I figure a bitch this ticklish above the waist has a lot t' learn about how ticklish he is below."

More shrieks an' hiccups from the big lug, goosebumps pimpling the tanned skin stretched so fuckin' taut across the endless sinews pushin' up from underneath you could see every single fuckin' striation, I swear.

"Awwwsshhheeeeiitttt," he blubbered, frog-breathing in a desperate attempt to keep air goin' in 'n outta his lungs, " What're ya doin'--don't touch me there, you fuckin' queer, aaaarrrhhh! Heee! Hahhh! Awwwgawwwd, my knee, aahhhh!"

"Funny," Jacko remarked as he flipped Paulie's boots off the ends'a his feet an' tossed 'em over his shoulder--plop! Plop! - "how the cap 'a the cocksucker's knee's just as 'sensitive' as the li'l hollow inna back." Poor Paulie hardly heard him., buckin' 'n twitchin' as violently as he was while his post-adolescent torturers diddled both'a them helpless knees, Gino workin' his way down the backs'a the calves.

Jacko had the socks off by this time. You should'a seen the way he lunged at the soles'a Paulie's bare feet, an' the toes, too. Long strokes. Short ones. A rush of fingertips, like a herd'a ants was nippin' the twelve inches between his heels an' his toes. If ya thought the nineteen-year-old bodybuilder was gaspin' for breath before, if ya thought he was poundin' his butt against the grid he was tied to, man, that was diddly compared t' this. I mean, the big roughneck was actually cryin' now, big fuckin' tears cascadin' wetly down his face along with the rivers'a smelly jock sweat that'd turned the tumbleweeds under his arms into fetid delta seaweed an' the spit that he kept sprayin' outta his mouth as he whimpered 'n howled 'n pleaded for mercy.

"PLEEZE, GUYS, I'LL DO ANYMING Y' WANT, I SWEAR, I PROMISE," he husked, babbling. "AAWWHHHKK! NNUJJJHH! EEEERRCCCKK! HAAAHAAH" A lot more shit like that came outta the fuckin' scumbag's mouth--you get the idea. One thing f' sure: it was givin' them delinquents one helluva set a' fuckin' boners. Even from where I was sittin' the tent poles that'd come up behind their fuckin' flys was enough t' scare a thirty-year whore, much less a cherry-assed nineteen-year-old guy. Funny thing was, though, Gino 'n Jacko wasn't the only ones whose fuckstick was stickin' out like that... as Jacko was damn quick t' point Gino's attention to.

"Well, looky here, Gene," he chortled as he continued to put the bottom'a Paulie's feet through the wringer, "Cousin Paulie says he don't like what we're doin' t' him but his fuckin' baby-maker sure does."

"Got a mind'a its own, huh?" Gino was havin' a ball, dissin' the older stud. "Aintcha embarrassed, gettin' yer dick so damn hard cuz a couple'a boys's ticklin' the shit outta your smelly ass?"

"Yeah, Mr. Big-Shot Straight Cunt-Man," Jacko chimed in. "What's yer excuse? I don't see no snatch nowhere near here, d'you?" A nasty wink ostensibly f' Gino: "Y' don't suppose his cock is ticklish, too?"

Gino didn't know... but he was willin" t' give it a shot. "Might as well check out how ticklish his balls are while we're at it, dontcha think?"

Man, if Paulie's eyeballs wasn't buggin outta his head before, you should'a seen 'im buggin' 'em now! "Wait," he moaned. "C'mon, wait a minute...

"What the fuck for?" Gino was makin' a cup of his fingers 'n palm, slidin' it real teasingly along the underside of the nineteen-year-old's hardon, tweakin' the head 'n smearin' the prepuce all over the crown. Paulie's laughter dribbled away like the spit outta the comer of his mouth, a long little wheeze comin' outta his throat tea kettle-like.

"Aahhwwww," it kind'a sounded like. "Mmmmmm..."

"Guess 'is cunt-buster's the only part'a his body what ain't ticklish," Jacko felt obliged to observe, his own hand reaching around between the spread-out thighs from behind to play yoyo with Paulie's ball bag 'n the little hidden line'a hairy flesh that circled out from under the sac 'n heads on up into the smelly ravine separatin' the hard-muscled hemispheres'a his ass.

"Guess so," the other eighteen-year-old concurred, continuin' to stroke Paulie's pecker. One thing I gotta say now that I'm rememberin' what happened, the kid jerked 'im off a whole lot more slowly 'n delicately that I would'a done. He was treatin' that boy's upstandin' young prong like a fuckin' pet, I mean it. An', shee-itt, did that piece'a hot man-meat go nuts over the attention. We are talkin"bout somethin' that could'a been carved outta marble now, it was so stiff. I wouldn't have been surprised if Gino used it like a club an' brought it crashin' down on somebody's head--cuz, no B.S., man, that damn thing was as good a cudgel as I ever saw. You could knock somebody out, it was that thick 'n heavy.

Picture it, go ahead: over ten whole inches long, as thick around as Gino's fist, little pearly strings'a ball-lube leakin' opalescently down from the gape 'a the urethra like spider's webs, smellin' kind'a like dead fish in a fuckin' tide pool. The foreskin was rolled back in a tightly scrunched ring nachelly hooked behind the broad flare of the helmet-shaped cockhead. You wanna imagine its shape, think of a swollen Roman centurion's helmet somewhat elongated. Santini had himself one helluva beautiful cock...not that a cunt-man like me would make much of a study of what guys like t' sport between their legs.

By this time Paulie was breathin' heavy again, only this time the breaths came in long instead'a short bursts. The noises comin' up from his Adam's apple was real low in the back'a his throat, like he was some Southeast Asian monk chantin' shit. "Oooo," like that. "Hhuuooohhh." Kind'a quiet.

Kind'a sexy, actually. You should'a seen the way them tits started t' balloon out at the corners'a his pecs, widening farther with each new inhale.

Oops--a sudden sharp gasp. Gino gave Jacko a one-eyebrow-raised look around the side'a their victim's stud body. Jacko giggled, wriggling his wrist behind Paulie's buns.

"If you can jerk 'im off from the outside," he snarfed, "I can jerk 'im off from the inside."

"Good deal," Gino agreed, his voice lowerin' down to a croon. "Just do it slow... an' easy. Y' feel 'is joy-button in there?"

"Huhhhh," said Paulie.

"Lemme see," said Jacko, adding a quick "yeah, got it" as he curled his finger upward within the shitty cave.

"Haaawwww," said Palulie, hips thrusting his beanstalk up into Gino's hand, Gino's fingers squeezing gently around the vein-latticed circumference just under the confluence where the lobes of the glans come together, the ball of his thumb pressing just-so into the meatus. The tied-up hunk shivered deliciously, the eyeballs rolling up under his upper lids, the paps at the tops of his tits pimpling an' puckering.

"Attaboy, Paulie," the cousin in front'a him whispered, insidious, "I betcha y' never got this hard when you was makin' it with some stupid pussy, didja... ?"

"Nnnuuooohhh," the big athlete sighed, completely conquered, body 'n soul. The eyes practically bugged outta my own head, seein' how he was settlin' his virgin rump backwards so's he could get every millimeter'a Jacko's finger inside the, ring'a his anus.

Wait. It was two fingers, Jacko announced, swellin' up with pride. "Y' wanna go f three, bitch?"

Holy fuckin' shit, the kid called Paulie a bitch! Paulie, with alla them bulgin' muscles an' alla the braggin' he usta do about alla the pussy he scored! And Paulie, he wasn't puttin' up no squawk no more. I mean, them kids just about had 'im in seventh heaven an' he was in no condition, mental, physical or emotional, t' snap outta it... not with a boner that big n' balls just about jacked up into firin' position on either side a' his fuckin' love-muscle. All he could do was grind his fuckin' hips an' keep repeatin' them "ooo's" an' "aaahhh's" like the two-bit back-street slut they'd turned him into.

"Gettin' ready t' blow yer load, aintcha," Gino hissed. "Any second now, alla them hot young nut-oysters're gonna come cannonballin' outta your magic wand, huhhh?"

Them "ooo's" 'n "aaahhh's" was gettin' louder by the second, the cords standin' out on Paulie's massive neck as he wriggled in the clothesline that kept him trapped against the metal grid on the roof. His fuckin' pecs glistened with a sheen 'a oily sweat, lookin' like the Italian stallion slopped a bottle 'a posin' grease all over himself just before goin' out t' compete f' the Junior Mr. America trophy.

"C'mon, big guy," Jacko leaned in t' whisper in his ear from behind., "Show us li'l kids how much ball-juice a tough young snatch-chompin' muscle-stud can shoot outta them fat ten inches, yeahhhh." His fingers was really reamin' deep into the tough young snatch-chompin' muscle-stud's bull-cunt as he spoke. F' a minute there I thought I saw the knuckles plow their way through the irised-out sphincter ring.

Probably my own over-heated imagination, right?

Hey, whether Paulie's ass was suckin' Jacko's hand in up t' the fuckin' wrist or whether the hard-drivin' captive couldn't hold his water no more, the sound he made couldn'ta been much different. I mean, Santini let loose with one'a them long loud screams that come out inside a bubble a hot air an' then pow! His dick recoiled and then leaped forward like it was some kind'a ICBM about t' blast off a the fuckin' launch pad.

You wanna know the truth, man, I actually expected the mushroom-headed cylinder t' break free, skyrocketing up into the fuckin' stratosphere. The mess'a pubes billowing up around the roota that baby sure reminded me of all'a the smoke 'n steam that billows up around the base of the gantry down at Cape Whatchamacallit, and I'm tellin' ya, man, it wouldn'ta surprised me t' see it fuckin' explode halfway t' the goddam moon.

Not that that sonovabitch wasn't explodin.' I don't think I ever seen nobody cum so gross, I don't care what kind'a fuckin' stud they thinks they is. Paulie was goin' "huu hooo hyyy," sayin' shit like "I'm doin' it, oh, yeah, it's cummin,' y' made me get my fuckin' nut, you sick bastards, awwwhhh! " An' all the time he was sayin' that shit his whole body was shudderin' n' quiverin' an' his fuckin' boner was sprayin' the world with glob after pearly glob 'a gooey jizz. You could practically hear the spurts goin' squish! Squish! Squish! Squish! chargin' outta the head of that dick like pulsin' streams outta a fire hose. The whole fuckin' neighborhood began t' reek 'a spunk 'n sweat, real pungent.

'Went on forever, felt like, even though "forever" when ya do one'a them once-in-a-lifetime cums like Paulie did usually lasts maybe fifteen, twenny seconds, period. An' y' can always tell when it starts t' wind down, too--y' don't have t' see the way the last few squishes don't got nearly as much volume or velocity, the way they don't arc up through the air like Cupid's fuckin' arrows but, rather, dribble an' plop like molasses, or LePage's fuckin' mucilage.

An' then all them giant-sized muscles go fuckin' slack, like they was balloons y' stuck a fuckin' pin in an' let the air out, whoosh. Paulie sagged back against the grid; I swear, man, if them ropes didn't keep 'im tied in place he'damelted down onto the tar paper of that roof an' ended up in a fuckin' heap.

Fact was, he was so fucked up by all'a that ticklin' and bein' forced t' cum them kids could'a done anythin' they wannid with 'im an' it wouldn'ta mattered if they kept 'im tied up or not. They could'a draped his fuckin' physique any way they wannid an' he'da been too glassy-eyed an' limp t' put up even a tiny fight.

That got me real hard, I gotta admit, just thinkin' about a stripped-down muscle-stud all helpless an' weak havin' no choice but t' let ya fuck with his hairy-chested all-American body as long an' as hard as ya wannid.

A scrapin' sound got me outta my reverie. Gino was bringin' a box over an' standin' on it in front of Paulie. The straight boy hadda make an effort t' raise his handsome square-jawed head from where it was lollin' down on his neck as he tried to catch a rest. What he saw when he had it snapped up lookin' out like the jock he was so proud'a bein' was that his fuckin' face was now lined up at the same height as Gino's muthafuckin' crotch, Gino's smarmy face lookin' down on him in the kind'a sullen pouty triumph that only evil young teenage sadists can pull off.

"I guess y' lost the bet, Pauleeee," he said tauntingly. Holy fuckin' shit, the session him 'n Jacko were puttin' their cousin through wasn't over!

A tired moan from Santini, who didn't have t' be told that he was in f' more shit. "What... 'bet'?"

"'What bet,' he asks," Gino said t' Jacko, giggling. "'Guess the big cocksucker didn't unnerstan' what happens when he can't handle 'imself with a couple'a kids like us."

"Yeah," Jacko concurred, sloshin' the tip of his spitty ol' tongue right into their prisoner's ear an' makin' him hear what they hadda say like he was under water somewhere. "I distinctly remember you tellin' us there wasn't no way you couldn't get loose no matter what way we tried t' tie y' upan' here y' are, man, still trussed up all naked 'n everythin'." Paulie surely didn't 'spect 'em t'just let 'im go without, you know, drivin' the lesson home till he got it through his thick skull once 'n f' all?

"Awwwhh," the dude exhaled, looking about as defeated as they come... until the sound'a Gino unbucklin' the studded garrison belt holdin' his jeans, the zzzpppp! of his zipper followin' that, made 'im snap up once more.

"What the fuck d'you think y' doin'?" Shock... horror... defiance. You should'a seen how Paulie lunged up against them coils 'a rope all over again, rattlin' the metal of the grid. Hey, maybe he couldn't break free the first time, but who said he couldn't do it tryin' again, 'specially when this time they wasn't just gonna tickle him. They was gonna fuckn' rape 'im, man!

Gino didn't even fuckin' try t' hide, what he had in mind, lettin' his pants drop down around his knees an' hookin' the smelly ol' cheese-stiffened briefs under the unwashed balls beneath. "What the fuck I'm doin' is feedin' your fuckin' face nine fat inches'a my stinkin' teenage prick," he sneered, hipping forward so that the greasy chunks of sour-mash smellin' smegma that'd been caught in the folds'a his foreskin could plop out over Paulie's lower lip an' get caught all over again... this time in the hollow at the bottom'a the whimperin' nineteen-year-old's lower teeth, inside'a his chin.

All the "flaugh!'s" and "phmawgghhkk!'s" wasn't gonna get the Stilton taste'a that crud outta that cherry mouth unless Paulie opened up t' swipe his tongue like a broom along the front'a his teeth, sweepin' clean. But, Jeezis H. Keeripes on a stick, man, all three'a them damn well knew that the second he parted his uppers from his lowers the diabolical eighteen-year-old sonofabitch was gonna ram that hardon all'a way down Santini's throat, really turnin' 'im into a fuckin' fairy cocksucker.

A cunt-crazy ladies' man like Paulie couldn't let that happen! Them creeps'd have t' kill 'im first! Nobody queered Paulie Santini!

Which is why he put up with the melting curds Gino'd infused into his mouth, keepin' his teeth clenched an' his lips compressed. "Mmmnnn," he growled.

"'Guess that means 'do yer fuckin' worst," his post-adolescent cousin.presumed, winkin' at Jacko over the broad expanse of Paulie's unclothed shoulder.

"Any time," Jacko grinned back at him. "I don't think it's gonna be so difficult t' do, either, 'specially when we already know what a cinch it is t' get a pussy like Paulie t' open up." What'd Gino figure, ten seconds?

"Fifteen. We wanna let Paulie keep a li'l self-esteem." Gino was retrieving a strip of the denim what usta be part of the prisoner's Levis. "That's why it ain't necessary f' him t' see what guys like us use t' turn studs like him into cock-hungry dick-lickers. "

He folded the blue cloth over Paulie's eyes and stretched the ends backwards on either side of his head. Jacko didn't have t' be told what to do when he took them from Gino: he tied the blindfold in place quickly and efficiently. An', y' wanna know somethin,' man? Santini looked hotter 'en ever, blindfolded like that. Tied up with his arms stretched sideways like that... naked like that.

My crotch was gettin' real damp but, like I say, y' better not make nothin' outta it, fag. What was turnin' me on was the power trip, not the sex shit!

"Y' got the 'instrument' 'a torture?" Gino was inquirin' of his youthfully smarmy partner in rape.

"Damn right," Jacko responded, leaning in to whisper again into the ear beneath the knot in the blindfold. "Whaddaya think we're gonna use on you, huh? The switchblade? A razor, maybe? Maybe a pair'a snips--y' know, metal cutters? Somethin' nice 'n sharp t' circumcise that uncut cock you're so fuckin' proud'a?

It wasn't a knife or anythin' like that, although Gino for one wasn't ready to enlighten their trembling victim, teasin' him some more with the thought of stickin' a needle through his tits. "I hear it hurts real good, havin' yer nipples pierced... although, hey, it might be a nice souvenir t' leave y' with f' when they find y'up here on the fuckin' roof, Paulie--rings through yer tits, welded so they'd have t' use a fuckin' torch, cuttin' 'em. off."

Paulie inhaled, but he didn't say shit. He couldn't... not if he didn't want to get his face speared on nine inches' a hot teenage pecker!

"'What about tatooin' him?" Jacko suggested. "Put some nice pichas 'a dick or, his pecs? Maybe some good ol' fashioned dirty words... y' know, like an invitation? 'Fuck my ass'? 'Lemme slobber my tongue all over the funky hair in your musky ol' armpit'?

"'Gang-bang homo takes on all cummers six at a time,' yeah," Gino snickered, gettin' in the spirit of the occasion. "Maybe we'll do that if this don't work."

"This" was the instrument of torture Jacko'd just given him... a feather!

... An' now Gino was lowerin' it til the tip... just... bare... ly... touched... the skin... stretched thin... over... Paulle's... ribs...

"MMWWA4AAARRRGGHHHKKK!! he spluttered. Couldn't help but splutter. Could not stop himself from spluttering. "NNNYYIIEEEGGHHH --!!"

Any thought he may've had about keepin' his mouth shut went out the window. The damn thing opened and stayed open as he hacked and howled, guffawing against his will. Thrashing in the ropes all over again.


Up 'n down his voice rose an' fell, kind'a in sync with the way his mighty chest was heavin,' real bellows-like. Convulsin.'


It was like he was sayin' "I can't take no more! I give! I'll blow ya! I'll do it, I'll suck your dick! I'll suck the fuckin' sticky slime outta your fuckin' teenage hardon, just stop ticklin' me, pleaseeeeee... ! "

Even Jacko was curious now. "What're y' waitin' fer, Gino?" he asked, somewhat open-mouthed himself. "I thought you was gonna make the fucker choke on your fuckin' bone."

"I am," the other kid affirmed, slitherin' the feather up n' down Paulie's elpless torso... the insides 'a his thighs... the bottoms of his feet. He hadda raise his voice t' be heard over all'a the screamin' noise the bigger stud was makin,' whoopin' an' hollerin' the way he was. "I just thought ol' Paulie here is havin' himself such a good fuckin' time I didn't wanna be selfish n' interrupt too soon."

"Yer all heart, okay," Jacko agreed, him n' Gino both noting how close Paulie was t' blackin' out.

"Hey, Paulie," the teen in front'a him smirked. I gotcha happy, now you get me--think'a it as a kind'a reward." This time when Gino thrust his hips forward the cock what preceeded his pelvis by them ten inches slipped neat as a pin right into Paulie's still-huffin' mouth.

"Hawgghhjjj," Paulie said, slurping. I don't think he intended t' slurp but, shit, Gino's fuck tool was so fat n' juicy it didn't give his tongue much room. t' do much else.

"Ooo, yeah, feels real nice." The eyes rolled around in Gino's happy face, the kid lookin' so beatific he might as well've been a fuckin' angel. "I always knew my big stud cousin Paulie was gonna be a nacheral-born cocksucker. "

"Get a rhythm goin,' punk," Jacko murmured as he helped bob Santini's tousle-haired head from behind, pushing his face down around Gino's hardon, pulling it back til only the dick tip was still in the mouth and then repeating the cycle. "Ain't that one fuckin' tasty piece'a tube steak?"

"Mmff. Mmgmmpphh. "

"It's just like a fuckin' Tootsie-Pop," Gino chuckled as he screwed his prong all the way down into Paulie's spasming throat, making him choke. "'Got a real creamy 'surprise' when y' finally get down t' the heart."

"MWWWGGGHHSSSSKKK," the sixteen-year-old gagged.

"I'm gonna fuck 'is ass," Jacko announced, his hands already digging into Paulie's pelvic wings.

"Wwmmghhk?" It was the best the muscle-stud could do with his mouth full as he felt the blunt business end of Jacko's monster meat slip-sliding up n' down his ass-crack, separating the globes on either side an' comin' to rest smack-dab against the little pink button hidden beneath the ass-hair. Knock, knock, bitch, I'm comin' in!

Give Jacko credit, man, that pussy probe looked like it was carved outta solid tungsten steel, not a kink in a carload... an' Paulie might not've known it, but his bung sure looked like it was the type what automatically swallowed anythin' that pressed up against it, 'specially somethin' this hard an' determined. Even as I watched I could see the way that opening was startin' t' give way, widening out... gettin' set t' take its first plunger.

Lubed or not!

One last attempt to avoid the inevitable: Paulie somehow managing to spit Gino's wooly mammoth, outta his mouth long enough to blurt somethin' more than just slurpin' sounds. "I'll tell y' where it's hid," he wailed, "it's in a hollow under a board in the kitchen, right side'a the fuckin' stove, okay? Don't dick my aaaassss!"

"Too late, slut," Jacko grunted, the cheeks of his ass smashing together as they powered his groin forward with the speed and impact of a rocket sled. WHOMP!! "Get fucked!"

The look of shock on Paulie's face was almost comical, man, wide-eyed an' gawkin.' I only had a glimpse, actually, cuz just then Gino grabbed a fistful of the hair on his head and yanked his face up t' smash his dick back inside his mouth. Man oh man, did he ever pummel that stud, crashing his bush into his lips and sandpaperin' 'em more n' more with every new in-stroke.

"Glug!" said Paulie. "Umphh!" said Paulie. "Ggnggkk!" said Paulie.

"He's got another hardon," said Jacko, an' ya wanna hear the wierdest? It wasn't the last 'a the day!

As for me, if you're askin' me if all'a that hot action got me off, you better watch it before I deck y' one, man. Ain't I toldja that the only way I'm turned on enuff t' get my goddam nuts off is inside a chick's sloppy pussy?

I don't give a shit what them puddles was on the tar paper up there by my fuckin' feet. Probably some fuckin' dog or somethin.' All I cared about was the fact that them fuckers never did talk about what Paulie'd hid, what they wannid so fuckin' much.

I still don't how what the fuck it was.

SO, LIKE I SAID, THAT WAS THE ONLY TIME I ever saw Santini shakin' in his fuckin' boots... and now that I fuckin' remembered it, okay, you're ahead'a me, right? Y' figured it all out... how I could get the muthafucka. t' fess up t' who was on the take over at the 23rd Precinct, an' f' what, talkin' money in exchange f' the stuff supposed t' be locked up in the evidence room. Hey, a stud what's as ticklish as Paulie usta be ain't likely t've grown a callus over that luscious, sun-tanned male flesh... so all I hadda do was come up with a way t' grab 'im 'n then put 'im through the wringer.

Y' know what? Y' know what? I even knew how t' get 'im without puttin' my own ass on the fuckin' line. I mean, the first thing what comes t' mind you probably considered y'self already, like... you know... breakin' into his fuckin' apartment 'n waitin' in ambush f' him t' walk through the door, knockin' 'im out cold before he had any idea he was walkin' into a trap. Or arrangin' a li'l cop t' cop chit-chat over drinks someplace, makin' sure the mickey was dumped in his glass an' not mine. Or lurin' 'im with a hot fuckin' pussy. Or puttin' 'im t' sleep with a sedative-tipped blow dart.

Some'a that shit might'a worked, some not, but none'a it was a lock... an' remember what I toldja up front, man, if it went wrong Paulie was the kind'a guy who'd take his vengeance out on my ass. I didn't much dig the prospect, 'specially since nothin's changed about that ol' shit-chute'a mine. The closest it's ever gotten t' "open f' business's" the two times I was swacked enuff t' let Mona (remember her?) tongue-bathe my manhole.

Good feelin,' sittin' on some nympho bitch's face while she pools a shit-load'a saliva down on your fartin' ol' shitter. I betcha. Paulie gets off just dreamin' about it... or maybe, I thought, Paulie gets off even more dreamin' about what his kid cousins Gino 'n Jacko put 'im through up there on that roof when he was a big sixteen. Man, this assignment was gonna be a snap if I could enlist them kids... get 'em t' -agree t' have some more "fun" with a stud what was now, even more sexily, a fuckin' po-liceman.

If that wasn't a fuckin' incentive when y' get a perverted fuckin' charge outta strippin' a heavyweight young muscle-stud down t' his bare balls... tyin' him up so's he can't fuckin' move much less stop y' from doin' every dirty piece'a shit y' can do to a guy... teachin' 'im by force t' get t' like bein' gang-shagged... what the fuck was? Even better f' me, Gino 'n Jacko were now six, seven years older than they was when I spied on what they did t' Santini up on the roof a that fuckin' apartment house. They was what my ol' lady usta call "filled out," meanin' either of 'em could give either me or Paulie a run f' the money in the macho muscles department. Maybe they still didn't weigh as much as me, but they wasn't shrimps by a long shot, compensating with tough young sinewy wiriness f' that extra bulk on my bones... 'n Paulie's.

Some prospective lovers might find 'em even more attractive cuz of it... not that I was comin' t' see 'em t' make that kind'a date, y' unnerstand. I was chairin' the meetin' t' set their cop cousin up an' I knew goin' in that the odds they'd agree t' double-team 'im wasn't cuz of ol' times' sake or even cuz they thought they ought'a bring a hunk like that down every once in a while if only just f' the fun'a makin' 'im crawl, nah. Ten t' one they was gonna say yes cuz they was in stir an' if they cooperated with me I could get 'em instant parole...

... An' lemme tell ya, man, I sure did like the way them two looked at each other when I gave 'em the proposition. Sure, they'd be real happy,t' tickle the fuckin' truth outta Cousin Paulie, they says after exchangin' them glances, fraught... n' we shake on it, in business. 'Takes me three days t' get the ball rollin... t' set up the apartment they're gonna bring Paulie to, wirin' it so nobody misses nothin' when we play the tape f' the D.A. an,' later, f' the fuckin' court. The deal is, I'm runnin' the show with only my rookie partner Andy in the know (besides Gino n' Jacko, that is): the corrupt kind'a cops we got in the Department these days the smaller the number'a guys in on the operation, the better.

Nice kid, Andy, a rusty-haired redhead, Scots-Irish background, good build gettin' better now that he's serious about workin' out down at the gym. Love his li'l pug nose n' his green eyes, not ta mention the way the corner'a his cute li'l pink mouth curls up when he smiles, like he knows a lot more'n he's sayin'. I had 'im set up workin' the tape recorder in the apartment 2H while me 'n Paulie's favorite two wops (whether he knew it yet or not) got ready t' spring the trap next door in 2J.

Simple was gonna be as simple does. Santini'd show up an' knock onna door, Gino 'n Jacko'd open up while I lurked behind it til Paulie stepped over the fuckin' threshold. Once he was all'a way in I'd step out'a hiding real fast an' slip my right arm around his throat from behind, slappin' the chloroform-soaked cloth in the palm 'a my hand down over 'is nose an' mouth. The sonofabitch'd be so fuckin' surprised he'd probably breathe in a real big gulp'a them fumes an' go limp in my arms in two seconds flat. After that we'd throw his unconscious bulk across the bed an' strip 'irn jaybird naked, spread-eaglin' his limbs t' the corners'a the fuckin' frame.

Ten, fifteen seconds later, the crooked cop is all tied up n' ready t' laugh his fuckin' head off until he comes clean. What could go wrong, right?

Fact was, my dick was really lookin' forward to it. Cept f' watchin' the guys when they was eighteen doin' the nasty t' Paulie I hadn't had no experience with other guys, not even one'a them high school circle jerks y' read about. So, hey, this was my opportunity to make a stud go ape an' get my rocks off all over 'imwithout puttin' my own balls in the goddam sling. 'Gotta be honest with ya, man, I was quiverin' with real anticipation when the sucker rapped on the door a' 2J, gettin' into position t' jump him as Jacko winked at me an' reached f' the door knob.

"Hey, Jacko," Paulie said heartily as he stepped right on over the threshold exactly as I'd plotted it out. "Lookin' good. Where's Gino?"

"Right here," the stud says, an holy fuckin' shit, man, "right here" means right behind me--which ain't accordin' t' Hoyle. I'm so fucked up with confusion I don't even get it when Gino pushes me out from behind the door even as Paulie is kickin' it shut behind him. My goddarn feet almost give out under me as I go staggerin' at the cop an' his cousin Jacko, Gino snatchin' the rag outta my hand. An' y' know what the traitor does next?

That's right, he's the one what slips the hand around my neck--the one who slams that fuckin' anesthetic-soaked cloth up over my nose 'n mouth. An' as if the surprise and shock alone ain't enuff to cause me t' instinctively gulp all'a them sleep-inducin' fumes into my fuckin' lungs Paulie helps it along by sucker-punchin' me kachung! right in the ol' breadbasket.

Whoop! A burst'a sparks in front'a my fuckin' eyes! All the colors of the fabrics on the chairs an' their bods prisms into separate primals! A li'l black 'n red spiral forms somewhere between my eyeballs an' infinity, growin' out in all directions to swallow me up! "Aawwwgawwwddd," I hear myself say like through a long metal tube what's gettin' longer by the moment, echoin' like crazy.

There's a high-pitched siren ringin' in my fuckin' ears, goin'up 'n down, up 'n down, up 'n down. I'm too discombobulated t' notice. All three 'a them muthafuckas're pickin' me up an' they ain't doin' it gently, hammockin' me between 'em an' throwin' me onto the fuckin' bed, whomp! All I can do is try'n get Andy in here--after he calls f' back-up--otherwise I am fucked, man. Literally fucked!

"Thought we'd turn on our own cuz, bitch?" I couldn't tell which one was sayin' it, not that it mattered all there was was darkness 'n sparks goin' off in the darkness like supernovas. They was manhandling the hell outta me an' I was too out of it t' even try 'n stop 'em, pullin' my arms 'n legs every which way...

... Holy fuckin' shit, man, they was shreddin' the clothes off a my fuckin' body, man! They was strippin' me balls' naked an' yankin' my hands 'n feet out toward the four comers'a the fucking bed! "Navrvwhhh, " I told 'em, but they just fuckin' laughed 'n looped coarse lengths of rope around my wrists 'n ankles, knotting them limbs till the only thing I could do was twist 'n buck between 'em.

Goin' nowhere, f' sure... but enough air was back in my lungs so's I could yell f' Andy t' save me, louder. "Andy, man! Andeeeee -- !"

The three guineas were lookin' down at the way my muscles were poppin' an bulgin, gettin' real turned on by my struggles. "Y' want Andy, do ya?" Paulie snickered. "Awright, ya got 'im!"

The door was opening behind his back an' that good-lookin' young rookie partner 'a mine was saunterin' in lookin'--well, smug. "Tsk, tsk," his tongue clicks inside his fuckin' cheek, "smart cop with a big hairy-chested physique like yours 'n you go 'n get y'self all tied up naked like this like a slut bitch on a pinball machine. No wonder you're gonna get yer cherry ass reamed.

"Not t' mention your fuckin' mouth, too." Jacko was lickin' his lips like he was a fuckin' wolf. "I think that's whatcha been wantin' us t' do ever since ya watched us strip ol' Paulie here down t' his short hairs 'n make 'im crawl."

Ha? They knew I was up there that day on the roof? How? I hid myself good--they couldn'ta seen me!

"Muthafuckas, lemme loose," I spat, lungin' up as far as I could considerin' how tightly stretched out I was, my back archin' like a fuckin' Roman aqueduct expandin' the darkly haired plates 'a my chest somethin' fierce. Makin' the hollows of my even more rampantly haired armpits get even deeper under the caps 'a my tattooed shoulders an' the bulge-vein rocks 'a my biceps. "I'll fuckin' kill ya, y' don't lemme up! Now!"

They laughed just like I would'a laughed if I heard somebody I had all trussed up like me, 'is birthday suit exposed from top t' bottom f' everybody t' see. Spread out f' the takin.'

" Uh-uh, big fella," Gino simpered, "me 'n the guys know what y' really're in the market for even if you don't... yet... 'n as soon as the boss gets here we're gonna turn y' on t' cock, just like you're too dumb t' admit you're turned on by, even t' y'self."

"You're in f' a big fuckin' disappointment, you asshole queer sonofabitch," I raged, slammin' around in them ropes like a fuckin' bronco, my pecker filled with enuff fuckin' juice t' flop up over my pubic triangle, splat! Splat! "This prick don't get hard without no cooze t' stick it in, unnerstand?"

"I dunno, cocksucker," a new voice said from the door, Captain Vinniga saunterin' in like he owned the fuckin' place. "Seems t' me your dick ain't actin' like no turtle even now." His eyes surveyed the other guys standing with their dicks swollen (or stickin' straight out like a bunch'a construction cranes!) on either side 'a my helpless nudity, leerin.' Whaddid they say t' startin' a li'l 'office pool--"the guy who comes closest t' the number 'a times we can get the faggot t' squirt a load'a nut-oil wins the pot."

"You got a deal," all'a them bastards agreed, the numbers rangin' from no less'n four fuckin' orgasms t'--get this! -- ten! Shee-itt, I wasn't gonna even blow one cum, much less any more!

"We'll see 'bout that," said the stud who'd set me up f' this fuckin' fall in the first place. Y' figured it out yet, man? There was no shit missin' from the fuckin' evidence locker... the whole thing was just a way t' gull my straight fuckin' ass someplace I could be easily knocked out, tied up 'n gang-banged. What a bunch'a fuckers, doin' this t' me... an' me? What a stupid jerk I was, walkin' into it with both eyes open 'n seein' nothin' till it was too fuckin' late.

Well, okay, fine, maybe they had me laid out like some hot bitch belly-up on an Aztec sacrifical altar, thighs split like a fuckin' wishbone--but that didn't mean I was gonna let 'em satisfy their perverted desires, I don't care what tortures they tried t' put me through. They wasn't gonna turn me on, no fuckin' way!

(I tried not t' think 'a how Paulie kept sayin' that t' his cousins Gino 'n Jacko, all them years ago up on that fuckin' roof... an' even if I couldn't keep the memory 'a him huffin' in forced ecstasy an' dischargin' spurt after spurt 'a his wop cum all over the place outta my mind's eye so fuck-in' what? Paulie Santini was some kind'a closet queer, obviously. Not me! Never me!)

"Aww," Vinniga was drawlin,' mockin' me as he stripped his shirt up over his head 'n shoulders t' disclose a two hunnid 'n sixty-pound physique that was a lot sharper than I ever expected it t' be, with tough leathery tits all crinkled up with lust even as they tilted darkly down a set 'a chiseled, inch-high pectoral cliffs, one'a them pierced by a ring 'a its fuckin' own... the one what had a starburst tattooed around the areola. "Such a long fuckin' face when y' oughtta be smilin' 'n happy, kiddo. I mean, we're just about t' send y' up t' heaven."

"Hey, I know how t' make 'im smile," my rookie partner Andy smirked. "Partners don't have no secrets from partners." What was the fucker gonna do, tell me a goddam joke?

No. Shit. He was holdin' a feather in his hand! Where the fuck did he get that? "Don't touch me with that!" I rasped, real loud like, sure, sure, it really was gonna scare 'em off.

Fuck, man, I was startin' to chuckle even before the rusty-haired traitor began to flick the end 'a the muthafucka against my skin. You know, sometimes y' can't control y'self when you're anticipatin' the worst 'n, man, was I ever anticipatin' the fuckin' worst...cuz Andy wasn't the only one brandishin' a goddam feather.

They all had feathers! An' they all were brushin' the tips against my fuckin' Quislin' skin, teasin' the hair an' the follicles an' the epidermis 'n everythin'. Suddenly I wasn't just chucklin' or giggling,' man, I was snarfin' and screamin' and shriekin' and splittin' my fuckin' sides... whether I fuckin' wannid to or not!

"HOOHAAAHAUUUHHHAAHHIIIYAAAAHHH!!" them bastards 'n their fuckin' feathers had me howlin,' all the hard muscles'a my he-man physique shakin' like a bowl 'a fuckin' jelly. The carpet 'a dark chest hair was gettin' real matted across my fuckin' pecs, all'a them fuckin' kinks straightened out by a gush 'a sweat seepin' from every fuckin' pore. My ribs was crackin,' I swear, hurtin' something fierce an' the more pain I was in from all'a that uncontrollable laughter the more they was determined t' see to it that there wasn't no let-up--them maniacs were really gettin' off but good watchin' while I busted a gut f' 'em. "AWWHHYYYAAAAIIIIGNNRRREEEHHHAAAHHH!!"

I couldn't even catch enuff fuckin' breath t' beg 'em to stop... t' promise 'em I'd be good. Y' know, do what they wannid me t' do... anythin', I mean it, guys, ya won, okay? Whaddaya want--I'll suck ya dicks! I'll drink your cum! I'll take all'a your faggot boners up my tunnel 'a love, two at a fuckin' time, ya want!

"YEEEEIIGGGGHHAHHHHHJJJKKK"--that was the only thing what came outta my mouth.

"Oo," Jacko said t' his fuck-buddies, cops 'n bad guys both. "Y' think he's makin' too much fuckin' noise?"

"Could wake the neighbors," Andy hadda agree. "Maybe somebody ought'a gag 'im with somethin."

"How 'bout 'is pissy ol'jockstrap?" Gino held it up even as he continued to torment the underside 'a my bicep with the feather, Paulie doin' it t' the soles 'a my fuckin' feet.


"I got somethin' even better than that cruddy cup," Vinniga said after a moment t' think. He circled around my head an' snickered down at me while I wondered what the fuck he was gonna use t' muffle my chortles with--If he wasn't gonna just put a stop t' the torture, I mean. Whatever it was, he wannid me t' know I was gonna "eat it up a-fuckin-live."

A shadow descended on my face, my muscular young superior raising his twenny-inch arm away from the vee 'a his lats. I found myself looldn' up into the hairiest fuckin' armpit I ever saw--from this close, that is. An' gettin' closer!

Pee-yew, what a fuckin' stench, man! Like a fuckin' outhouse, man! No fuckin' wonder his name was Vinniga, man! An' the worse part'a it was the other studs was still ticklin' the fuckin' shit outta my fuckin' goosebumpy ol' skin, man. I had no choice but t' keep on laughin' 'n chokin' as he aimed that slimy ol' hollow down at my nose 'n mouth.

"NNNAAAHAHAHAHAAAIIIHAHHHEEEJJJKKK!!"--until the sweat-smellin' steel wool what filled that armpit was pressed down against my lips, stinky li'l strands of the shit sneakin' between my fuckin' lips t' get caught between my goddam teeth. Then it wasn't just "GGAAHHHHRRRRGGGHHH!!' It was "HHHAAAHHAHAHAHAHHHAAAAAMMMNNNNGGGGFFFFPPPHHH"--the sounds of a stud bein' made t' pee in his fuckin' pants squelched mid-guffaw.

'Cept, the truth is, man, it wasn't peein' I'da been doin' in my fuckin' pants if I was wearin' pants. No. It was cummin', man. Them sonsabitches did what they fuckin' promised me they would--they sent me t' fuckin' heaven on the wings 'a fuckin' laughter, An' even though I didn't want it t' happen, I gotta be honest, man ... my prick never shot a load like that before. You should'a seen the size 'a them squirts, seen how far they flew through the fuckin' air... heard the sound'a them when they splattered against my face like a hail a goddam buzz-bombs, splat! Splat!

SPLAT! Splat!

"Attaboy," I heard the Captain coo as he patted my head approvingly, "keep on lickiin' that man-sweat up outta my gnarly ol' armpit hair, I always knew you'd be turned on by what a real macho stud's sweat tastes like."

Holy fuckin' shit! I was slobberin' my tongue all over his fuckin' smelly armpit! Like a fuckin' fag! An' my fuckin' hardon wasn't goin' down not while Vinniga kept my face plastered tight inside that underarm!

"Don't worry," Andy tol' me as he kneeled down between my thighs an' lined his rusty ol' boner up against my cherry bung, lubin' 'em up with spit. "We got lotsa good hot stuff f' y' t' suck on... all weekend long."

He shoved the fist-thick crown 'a his dick forward. "NNNHHHUUOOO," I said as I began t' feel what it's like to get a stud's diamond-cutter screwed up into your ass. "MMMMNNNYYNNNGGGKKK."

That meant, "yeah."

Shit, I should'a entered that pool myself!

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