Ripe For Picking – Part 2

By Kevin Moore

I met Jerome outside Woodford railway station, in the car park, the day after my visit to the clearing in the wood.

‘We have a problem, Kevin,’ he said softly. ‘The pigs [police] have turned up in force and are searching the wood. Apparently, someone’s gone missing from the local loony bin.’

A police car and two vans were parked in the car park, and another police car was parked in the main road, outside the public toilet.

‘I think we better go back to my place,’ he said. ‘We can play with Jigga and Tiny Tim, and I can show you some really sexy magazines.’

I didn’t need to be asked twice, and I couldn’t let down Tiny Tim.

‘How far away is your place; and what about my bike?’ I asked.

‘Leave it chained up in the bike-rack, over there,’ he said, pointing to his left. ‘I can drive you to my place in less than ten minutes. My car’s over there, the Super Snipe beside the concrete bollards.’

I made sure my bike was well and truly secure – I checked the padlock twice – before leaving it in the rack and joining Jerome by his car.

‘Don’t worry about your wheels, boy,’ he said, mocking me for my overzealous concern. ‘No one is going to nick that pile of old junk.’

‘It maybe old, like you,’ I snapped, ‘but it’s never let me down. It’s the best.’

‘Watch your mouth, boy,’ he said, sourly. ‘Yesterday’s arse slaps were mere taps of affection; if you backchat me again, I’ll whack your arse so-o-o bad.’

The look in Jerome’s eyes told me that he wasn’t kidding, and even though I kinda liked the punishment he’d doled out the day before, I didn’t want to push him too far.

‘Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to…’

‘Just get in the car and behave,’ he snapped. ‘I owe you six of the best already.’

We didn’t speak until the Super Snipe pulled up outside a small cottage, which was located between Denbury and Elm Green, some ten minutes later.

‘Here we are, Kevin,’ he said, as he dropped his hand on to my right leg, just above the knee, and squeezed. ‘If you take off your shorts and Y-fronts now, and walk up to the front door bare-arsed, I won’t punish you.’

‘Leave it out,’ I said, as my cheeks began to burn bright red with embarrassment. ‘I’m not going to do that, someone might see.’

‘None of the locals use the lane nowadays, not since they built the bypass. So I’ll be the only one watching you parade those pretty bum-cheeks.’

‘No way,’ I said defiantly. ‘You can slap my arse all you want, but I ain’t going to walk up to the front door bare-arsed.’

‘Okay,’ he replied. ‘That’s another six bum-tingling slaps I owe you.’

I tried to imagine myself walking up the path, wearing no shorts or Y-fronts, and parading my ‘pretty bum-cheeks’. Jerome was definitely putting some lewd ideas in my head.

Once inside the cottage, I was told to strip naked and stand in the centre of the living-room. Jerome disappeared into the kitchen as I complied with his instructions.

On his return, he went straight to work on Tiny Tim. He knelt down and gently sucked my hard-standing cock into his mouth. I felt my knees buckle a little, and really thought I was going to climax there and then.

I then heard a creaking noise, coming from the direction of the staircase behind me. I turned my head and froze the instant I saw the three naked men on the stairs.

‘He’s a nice one, Jay,’ said the leading man. ‘We must have some of that skinny arse before we leave.’

As panic set in, I tried to push Jerome off me; but he held me tight and wouldn’t let go.

There was a click and a bright flash of light – another photograph of Jerome sucking me off was added to the ones that were taken the day before.

Jerome pulled me down, onto the floor, as his three white friends (Eric, Clive and Keith) ran over and jumped in.

They prised Jerome off me, which took some doing, and told him to come back when he was naked. I was then stretched out on the floor and expertly examined, inch by inch, by the three inquisitors.

‘Let me go,’ I squealed, between the licking, kissing and probing. ‘I’ll have you all put in prison.’

‘For playing with a randy cock-sucker, I suppose.’ said Clive.

‘Who likes to take his clothes off in the woods,’ added Keith, ‘and let men suck his cock.’

‘The police won’t believe you,’ I continued to bluff. ‘They’ll bang you up for rape.’

‘Look, man,’ said Eric. ‘You came here with a man you met in a public toilet. We have dozens of photographs of you naked in the wood, with Jay sucking you off and you begging for more.’

It was then that I knew the game was up.

‘We also have a snap of you in the bog, sucking on a man-size cock,’ said Keith, lying. ‘Jay’s face can’t be seen, but there’s no mistaking you.’

‘We used a special spy camera for that one,’ said Jerome, returning to the fold, stark-bollock naked.

‘So how are you going to explain that away to the filth?’ Keith sneered.

I was quite annoyed when my will to resist suddenly threw in the towel and deserted me. The men had me just where they wanted me, and they were extremely keen on taking full advantage of the teenager they had snared.

Eric kissed me full on the lips as his friends squeezed my nipples, caressed my ball-sac and licked the tip of my cock. After several minutes of this sexual torment, I decided to co-operate one-hundred per cent – if the men were going to have their way will me, then I was duty bound to let them. After all, there were four big cocks to satisfy.

* * *

Some ten minutes later I was hauled to my feet and led into the kitchen. A sturdy wooden table stood in the centre of the room – it was some two-foot square and covered by an oilcloth, a bright red one.

‘Spread your legs and bend over the table, Kevin,’ said Jerome. ‘Your arse is about to be tenderized by your elders and betters.’

I did as I was told, believing that my arse was about to be firmly slapped, as promised by Jerome earlier. Little did I know that I was about to be gang-banged by four hard-standing cocks.

Clive and Keith tied my ankles to the legs of the table with rope; and as they did so, Eric positioned my body on the tabletop, so that my head hung over the edge. I only put two and two together when Jerome pushed something into my anus.

‘We’re going to slap your arse,’ said Eric, as he held my head down, ‘and finger-fuck your bum-hole.’

‘And if you’re really good,’ put in Jerome, ‘we’re going to swap fingers for cocks. But that’s only if you’re really good.’

The men laughed as Jerome fingered my bum-hole.

I tried to free myself by wriggling my body, hoping that I could show the men I wasn’t too keen on this kind of torment. Unfortunately, they weren’t in the mood for any dissent, so I was well and truly screwed.

‘Look, man,’ said Eric, ‘it’ll hurt all the more if you fight the inevitable.’

‘And we won’t mind if you do,’ put in Clive. ‘Listening to you yelling and screaming will be a big turn-on for us.’

‘So if you relax,’ Eric continued, ‘it won’t hurt half as much, and it’ll be over in no time at all.’

I knew there was nothing I could do, so I stopped wriggling and relaxed, which allowed Jerome to push his finger right into my bum-hole. It hurt like blazes, and brought me close to tears.

I yelled and pleaded for him to stop, which prompted him to withdraw his finger and shove it in even deeper.

‘Please, Jerome!’ I squealed. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘You will,’ said Keith. ‘It always hurts the first time. You just need breaking in.’

‘He’s real tight down here,’ said Jerome. ‘Get the amyl nitrite, Clive.’

Clive opened the small bottle of amyl nitrite and waved it under my nose. My head began to swim the instant the vapour hit my sinuses.

‘That’s it, man,’ said Eric. ‘You relax and let us do all the work. Just think of your bum-hole as another mouth.’

‘So open wide and get ready to pleasure your newfound friends,’ added Keith.

I felt warm and relaxed, and quite out of it. The vapour coming from the small bottle smelt peculiar, but I didn’t care.

I thought I was floating in mid-air, and could see, in my mind’s eye, my anus opening up wide to suck in a man-size cock.

I then thought I could hear yelling and screaming in the far distance as the pain overwhelmed me. I then blacked out.

* * *

Jerome’s cock was buried deep inside me when Eric slapped my face and brought me round. I truly thought old Jigga was ripping me in two.

‘Hold him down, boys,’ barked Jerome. ‘And give him some more whiff; before he breaks the table.’

I was sweating like a pig, I do remember that; and the pain in my guts was truly terrible. So I screamed for the fucking to stop.

‘That sounds so-o-o sweet,’ said Keith. ‘I love it when they scream like that.’

‘He better be that tight when I mount him, Jay,’ said Eric. ‘Sloppy seconds isn’t all that great at the best of times.’

‘True, true,’ said Jerome. ‘But this boy is real tight, so you’ll be well satisfied… Ah, fuck! I can’t hold on any longer.’

I could hear Jerome grunting and groaning with pleasure, but I was too focused on my own problems to care – my main concern was how painful the changeover would be.

‘Oil him up some more, Clive,’ said Eric. ‘We don’t want him going rusty on us.’

‘He’ll be shitting bricks for a week if he goes rusty,’ put in Keith. ‘And when out walking, he’ll squeak.’

The men laughed as I was made ready to receive another hard-standing cock.

‘Oh to be a virgin again,’ said Keith, as he eased his cock-head into my bum-hole.

I was completely wiped out by the man’s frantic fucking motion. He shunted me, the table and Eric toward the kitchen door by almost a foot; as did Clive, when he stepped in to take over from his exhausted friend.

‘Fuckin’ hell,’ shouted Clive. ‘That was awesome, truly awesome. You’re the best, Kevin.’

I just grunted: having no more puff to scream or curse. The men had broken me. I was now their bum-boy; their sex pet; their obedient creature.

The warm oil and amyl nitrite were used again when Eric stepped into the fray, slipping his finger into my well-used bum-hole.

‘Sloppy seconds,’ he mused. ‘I always get sloppy seconds.’

‘You’re too old and ugly to pull a young thruster,’ Keith joked. ‘You’re just a dirty old man.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ said Eric, laughing. ‘And I’ve got the plastic mac to prove it.’

Eric withdrew his finger and rammed his cock into my inner sanctum. I let out an exhausted gasp as he grabbed hold of my hips and thrust forward.

‘Tighten up, man,’ he growled. ‘Make me work for it!’

He increased his stroke-rate as I continued to edge forward, toward the kitchen door. He also managed to get me to scream again: by raising himself up on tiptoe and plunging down with an almighty thrust, hoping to go in deeper than any of the others.

‘What a lovely bum-boy,’ he said. ‘And so accommodating.’

‘He sure is,’ said Clive, ‘but I don’t think he’ll be too keen on coming back here again.’

‘Nonsense,’ chimed in Jerome. ‘I slapped him around a lot yesterday, and he still begged me for more. He likes it rough, and he loves his cock being sucked.’

‘So with four mouths to feed,’ Keith joked, ‘he’ll be bending over for us morning, noon and night. Ain’t that so, Kevin?’

I let out an affirmative grunt as Keith ruffled my hair with his hand. I was so embarrassed, but Jerome was right. I truly did like being slapped around by burly men with ginormous cocks, and I loved having my cock sucked.

Eric was getting close to shedding his load: he was swearing like a trooper and squeezing my hips real hard. I hung onto the tabletop for dear life as he collapsed on top of me.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ he shouted. ‘He’s wiped me out; the skinny fucker has wiped me out.’

‘Pump him full of spunk, Eric,’ encouraged Keith. ‘I want to see it dripping out of his arsehole, when you pull the plug.’

‘Yeah,’ added Clive. ‘Fill him up with spunk.’

I gasped for breath under the man’s heavy weight, hoping he would ‘pull the plug’ there and then. However, Eric continued to grind away at my arse for quite some time.

* * *

Tiny Tim was rewarded fourfold that afternoon. The men made a real fuss of me, especially when they were taking photographs of me being licked into shape.

My arse was off limits for several days after that visit to the cottage. However, Jerome & Co. pencilled me in for another sex romp the following week.

– – –

Copyright (c) 2011-2013 Andy Caulden

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