("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Otis: An Ode to Trailer Trash by MickMack (mickmack999@yahoo.com.au) *** Having a drink at the local town pub might be the last thing handsome young teenage guys who have just broken up with their girlfriends should do. (MM/M-teen, nc, rp, oral, anal) *** Author Note: This story is (c) Copyright 2007, by MickMack. All World Wide Rights Reserved. The story below is the completed tale of a totally fictional event. Your feedback would be greatly appreciated. It is gay erotica and is intended to be read by persons who are 18 years of age or old and by persons that enjoy gay erotica. The material covered in this part and all other parts of this story are fictional. Any similarities to persons living or dead are a coincidence. Please send your comments to: mickmack999@yahoo.com.au *** Otis - An Ode to Trailer Trash ******** Prologue ******** A hushed silence suddenly fell over the forest as the young naked teenager, his wrists handcuffed securely behind his back, stumbled forward at a fast pace. Desperately trying to avoid colliding into any of the many large deciduous trees and shrubs surrounding him in the pitch black of night, the 17 year old youth strained to see if any obstacles lay directly ahead of him in the unrelenting deep shadows that enveloped the forest. His naked body, crisscrossed and covered in a mass of deep cutting gashes, scratches and painful grazes, a result of the many low-hanging branches lashing him and above ground plant roots tripping him as he'd crashed headfirst through the forest. His body screamed for him to stop or slow down and rest, as he continued to push himself recklessly forward. His lungs heaving heavily, gasping for much needed breathe, and with perspiration streaming down his lean muscled body, Richard cast frantic frightened eyes behind him as he moved ahead of the hazards before him. Ignoring the pain rising up his legs from the soles of his feet, which were now bleeding freely from having trodden on hundreds of sharp stones, rocks and rotting ground mulch, the near-hysterical teenager bore up against the agony as he raced head long towards the only light he could discern way ahead of him. Shivering, the terrified naked youth finally found him emerging at the side of a major highway that led in and out of town. And as he fell to his knees, and then slumped onto his side sobbing hysterically, unable to move any further, he watched through half slit tired eyes as a car suddenly slowed down and stopped, and a surprised elderly couple rushed over to him as he finally lost consciousness. ************ Introduction ************ The fucking cunt! Who would have thought he'd go straight to the local cops. I couldn't believe it when both Dell and Matt came and told me our best mate Otis had been arrested for kidnapping and raping that filthy fucking low-life 17 year old faggot. I mean, the charges were a load of crap. Charges trumped up by the local retard cops. To cover the fact they really had no leads in the mysterious disappearances of over twenty of the town's most popular local teenage kids. Strong healthy young guys who'd gone missing over the past 10 years. What was even worse though, was when the cops cuffed Otis's wrists behind his back as they led him to the squad car. With the curious gathered town's folk listening in intently, the coppers began sneering at Otis, telling him he was nothing but a worthless piece of 'trailer trash' shit! I mean what the fuck! That's no way to go talking about Otis in front of all his buddies and mates. As it is, two thirds of our town, population 4000, live in trailers and caravans thank you very much! Also, we're not all high almighty fandangle rich assholes, wealthy as shit, able to afford to live in two, maybe three bedroom fibro homes with a front and back yard. Anyway, me and my mates, we knew the truth! Yeah, we knew, and I mean the whole truth! Fact is, there ain't been any crimes done! No kidnappings like the cops are putting about! Yeah, admittedly Otis knew all those young bucks who were supposed to have been kidnapped over the last 10 years, but he's no guiltier than the rest of some of the other townsfolk men as to whom the culprits are. You gotta know the full story before you can judge whether anyone's guilty of breaking the law. I mean, Dell, Matt and me, as well as maybe 120 other of the townsfolk's men, well, in a way, we're all party to what happened to them young whippersnappers disappearing. Yeah, I can tell you now, with a clear conscience, we all had a hand in it and all! But we never done nothing untoward nor criminal like the coppers are a saying. We only did what every one of them young faggot boys wanted done to them when they come seeking us out. Besides, they're all alive and kicking, and we know exactly where they all are right up to this very day. So you see, no crimes been committed and none of us, including Otis should be singled out for doing something that never happened. Stupid fucking coppers anyway! Can't get anything damn right in any case! But I kind of do blame ourselves for the current misfortunes which have descended upon us, how the authorities are hounding poor Otis, and maybe the rest of us soon. I mean, with our best pal Otis gone and been locked up by the cops, lord knows what's gonna happen if the local judge, one of our best mates, don't let him off and give them idiot coppers a proper bollocking. Funny now as I think back, because I never thought that faggot kid would have gotten away from Otis, he being one righteous pissed off son-of-a-bitch if you went ahead and angered him in any way. Besides, we all knew that cunt of a kid had personally come on to Otis, acting all whore-like and faggotty. Just like all the other young ones. Yeah, and we'd all known from the beginning where that young faggot, who goes by the name of Richard, was when he'd allegedly disappeared all them months ago. Fact is, nearly all the men-folk in town knew he'd been staying at Otis' trailer, 40 minutes up north, a willing and eager invited guest. Most importantly, Dell, Matt and me had been there when Otis first spotted the queer faggot drinking all by his lonesome that very first night in our local pub, looking as miserable as shit. We'd been there and witnessed how Otis had acted kind- hearted towards that shit-head kid from the very beginning. How the young fucker Richard had come back to our buddy's trailer late that night 6 months ago, more than eager to join us smoke some of the best hydro-weed Otis had grown in a long time. And Otis, being the cool guy he is, well, he'd generously allowed the kid to join us. Anyway, that parts the truth of how it had all started. If anyone's to blame, it was that young poofter! The rest of it, what are the cops arresting Otis for, well... When Richard, a ruggedly handsome yet very youthful looking high school student accepted that first rum and coke Otis bought him, the fag tried to act all tough and masculine, trying desperately to impress on us that he knew how to handle himself and didn't take shit from no-one in town. Smiling hugely, and letting the faggot yap on talking crap like a retarded goofball, Otis invited him to our table, and like a good little faggot lap dog eager to please his owner, he joined us as we went on to get as drunk as skunks. Of course, we all knew Richard was a faggot the first time Otis pointed him out to us. Don't get me wrong, I ain't got nothing against queers, but like my friends and most of the men-folk in town, we believed very strongly that they shouldn't go around advertising they're faggots in the pubs me and my buddies hang around. Just like Dell had sneered good-naturedly, all you had to do was take one look at the poof to know he liked being fucked up the butt. The way Richard casually wore those loose baggy jeans hanging off his hips and trailing half way over his arse-cheeks, showing off the white elastic band and cotton fabric of his expensive CK jockey briefs. It kind of gave the young homo away, if you know what I mean? Especially the way the lime yellow t-shirt he wore clung too tightly to his wide muscled chest and small firm waist. Showing off the outline of Richard's large pointy nipples and riding up a fraction too high as it revealed his navel to everyone when he stood up tall. If that ain't a walking advertisement that this young punk was nothing more than a faggot slut and a whore, well, I reckon nothing would. That's the whole point really. Matt noted straight away how this kid had really only been in our pub cruising, looking for a straight guy to seriously butt-fuck him, trying desperately to pick up some real hetero men like us. So, in a way, he got his perverted wish, when Otis finally went over to the young whore and invited him to join our table. Yeah, we'd all seen how the fag had first ogled Otis cautiously, before sussing out me and my buddies. We'd seen how he'd looked Otis up and down first, in a weird guarded frightened way, before swallowing his fear and smiling sheepishly in that whorish queer boy way of his before joining us. Of course, as he started into his act about how much of a real man he was, Richard also told us that he was straight. Nearly couldn't contain ourselves from bursting out in hysterical laughter as he told us he'd just broken up with his girlfriend, all but crying into his sixth drink doubly rum as he spilled his guts up about how devastated he was. As far as I'm concerned, the cunt should have won an Oscar for best original comedy, the way he carried on about his imaginary ex-girl. Even if it were true, which I say was all bullshit anyway, my guess is she probably found out he was really nothing more than a talented cock-sucking faggot, and didn't want anything more to do with him. Of course, when I'd whispered this into Otis's ear, and he'd quietly told the others on the 'qt', we'd all chuckled silently, knowingly, into our drinks for quite a few moments as we cast our eyes over him. But Otis is a really cool guy when you finally get to know him. He felt a rising compassion for the fag. He figured Richard was really only trying to pick us all up, the lot of us. That the story he'd spun us was just a subtle ruse to see if we might be interested in butt-fucking his mouth and boy-pussy. Otis figured out we could maybe provide Richard with the hardcore action he was desperately seeking, and that all us could enjoy a bit of free lip and man-gina action. Then after we'd had our fun, we would do the faggot a favour, what we knew he wanted done, and hand the young high school student over to one of our many mates. Like Jeb or big Jim-Bob, or even old man Langley. Single men who lived east of town on isolated properties in their large trailers. Single men who had been alone for far too long and just needed some loving company and someone to cook and clean for them. And afterwards they could, if they wished, pass the fag on to one of our other mates who might appreciate the cunt's faggot skills. Anyway, once we'd all quietly agreed we should help the poor wretched fag out, Otis sat forward, and acting as pissed as a newt, looking as if he was off his face, invited the faggot to come back to his place. See what I mean! We're not criminals! We don't kidnap no-one against their will! We just provide a very important social service, not only for the needy young faggots who cross our path, but for the many men-folk in town who live sad, forlorn lives all by their lonesome. ********* Part One ********* Well, as I was saying earlier, none of us ain't really got nothing against fags. Like Otis always said, fags were here for a very important social purpose, and that was they should be eagerly available at all times, whenever real straight guys like us didn't have any real pussy around when we needed to get our rocks off. At the time Otis had said that, all those years ago when he first said it, I admit I didn't quite understand what he'd meant. In fact, I thought he was actually just a closet queer, and nearly ditched him as a friend once I'd found out what he liked doing with all them fags. But when he eventually showed Dell, Matt and me and some of the other men-folk what he really meant, I figured we all finally understood how fags really do come in handy sometimes. Especially when you're desperately horny, all boned up and ready to unleash your explosive pent-up load into anybody's sucking mouth. Problem for Otis, Dell, Matt and me is most uppity women we've met over the years just don't want to know us. Most of them look down their noses at us, tell us to our faces that we're nothing but trailer trash, or rejects from the local rubbish tip. Or if those drunk enough do go out with us, they don't like to go down on any of us. Either alone or together, once we get them back to Otis' place and then shuck off our clothes to stand naked before them, they instantly start trembling in fear and complaining about the size of our thick hard dicks. It can be really frustrating, because they don't want to try sucking any of us off, always bitching about how putrid and fetid our uncut, unwashed cocks smell. And on top of that, none of them would let us stick our cocks up their arseholes, complaining any one of us would probably split them in two, damage them beyond repair if we even tried. Then to make matters worse, those who did let us fuck them always complained bitterly if we became too rough or heavy handed as we pumped and pounded their juicy squelching twats. So we'd always have to do it real slow so as not to rip them wide open, which always left me feeling very unsatisfied. But as Otis told us many times, if we could pick up a queer now and then, well... we could do just about anything we wanted with them. As Otis explained it, that's the only reason fags really exist... to give straight guys like us the added pleasures our womenfolk won't. And Otis has always said, if you treat fags the proper way, slap them around just a little bit at first, in the ways they liked it done, they'll actually fall in love with you for being assertive, for being a real man. Of course, a lot of queers might pretend they don't like it at first. But once you've slapped them around a little bit, made them do all the humiliating faggotty perverted things they really enjoy doing and were born to do, they always ended up begging real hard. Wanting you to do it even harder and a whole lot more rougher. But you got to know how to treat them properly from the beginning. That's the secret. You got to know what you're doing and how to get them all juiced up and ready to take your throbbing dick just the way you like it. You've got to know how to make them beg and squeal properly if they really want straight rugged men like us fucking them the way they like it done. As it is, we've all been using faggots and closet queers for some 10 odd years or more, usually in between breaks from any womenfolk who'll have us, or just when the horny moods grab us. Also, it's a real mans' thing, and I know the young faggots we've picked up over the years have always loved it when we've used them in the right faggotty way they like, and then given them to the many men-folk who crave for a little bit of lustful attention and company. How do we know for sure? Because they always end up so incredibly eager and enthusiastic to pleasure us in the ways we want them to do it, even happily thanking us as we hand them over to any of the men-folk in town who might like their own fuckable punk boys. ********** Part Two ********** Otis' dilapidated trailer caravan was actually a rather large affair, in that it had two large bedroom sections at each end of the trailer, both containing low to the floor queen-sized beds. Both bedrooms are curtained off with old linen bed sheets, and the middle section of the trailer provides for a small stand-up shower cubicle and toilet. Also, a compact but well provisioned kitchen, a single metal legged c-shaped dining table with six fixed vinyl-covered plastic chairs, and what could be loosely described as a lounge room capable of seating eight or ten people comfortable filled in the rest of the trailer. Located next to a rapidly flowing 800 metre wide river that swept down from Mt Pleasant, and then rushed unchallenged through the city centre of Middleton 20km to the south, Otis lived a simple Spartan life in austere isolation when he wasn't in town with his buddies, boozing and looking to get laid. With the nearest farmstead and trailer/caravan camp over 9km away, Otis enjoyed a level of peace and tranquillity that the rest of us guys could only envy and dream of. He would always extend an invitation to us to come over and stay as long as we wanted, and over the years we'd all taken him up on his offer. But mainly, he would open his trailer home to Dell, Matt and me whenever we decided it was time to go out trawling for women or faggots, and the remoteness of the trailer ensured we would never be interrupted in our endless pursuit to satisfy our natural male urges. So it was, on the evening we left the pub and piled into Matt's rusting, gas-guzzling mini-van, we immediately headed the 40 minute drive north to Otis' trailer home. It was a rowdy raucous trip, full of manly camaraderie as we tossed back 3 more six-packs of beer, and then started on a bottle of cheap bitter malt whiskey. By the time we arrived, we were all plastered to the gills. I remember swaying back and forth unsteadily, watching with blurred vision and a stupid inebriated smile on my face as Otis helped Richard, who was by now laughing hysterically at something Dell had said, out of the van, leading the fag staggering into the lounge section of the trailer caravan. For me, the night moved from being a raucous drunken melee, into a more tranquil, laid back weed-toking party that had everyone totally relaxed, mellowed out and smiling stupidly and glassy-eyed as the never- ending packed bong got passed around. For me, the potent thickly-resined buds packed lightly in the cone I puffed on, took me to an incredibly high level of lustful horny anticipation. And as I sat unmoving in my seat, uncomfortably trying to adjust my rigid rock hard dick to a more comfy position, I couldn't restrain myself from leering with unrepressed yearning at the young faggot. Richard too had sagged back where he sat, his knees parted wide to reveal a nicely packaged bulge in his jeans, laughing and giggling uncontrollably at a crude joke Otis had just whispered in his ear. Of course, whenever Otis packed the bong for the young faggot, he'd also mix in a few grains of crushed up Rohypnol and Mandrax. As Otis always says, once the effects hit them and they relax more, it drops all their inhibitions and they'd then do what they were born to do. Anyway, as the young fag relaxed more and more, slumping back into the seat he was perched on, and bong again made the rounds, I watched fascinated as curling wafting smoke swirled thickly throughout the room, filling the interior of Otis' cramped home. To me, it lent a surreal comical and bizarre view of Dell, Matt and even myself leaning forward one by one as Otis finally stood up and made his long awaited move. “Ok, girl. Time we all give you what you really came here for.” Otis had stated in a firm yet still friendly voice, as he moved to stand in front of the very stoned, still chuckling 17 year old high school student. *********** Part Three *********** It's funny how quickly the fags we've picked up over the years obey Otis orders when he finally makes his move. At first they just stare up smiling idiotically into Otis' now seriously stern and menacing face, unaware of what's about to happen. Totally absorbed in and enjoying the powerful stone they're flying high on, they're completely relaxed from the hypnotic drugs they've also smoked into their lungs, and waiting patiently for the punch-line for this new joke they think Otis is playing on them. But the bewildered looks on their boyish youthful stoned grinning faces as Otis suddenly swings his left hand back and then slaps them savagely across the face is a sight to behold. Their glazed over eyes finally registering the painful stink of Otis' open palmed calloused hand connecting smartly with a large ricocheting smacking sound always makes my dick spasm uncontrollably every time. And with their smiles now frozen in place, but no longer laughing, you can actually see the subtle shift in their over drugged relaxed body posture, as they very slowly try to tense up and move from their slumped seated position. “Time we took all your clothes off now, faggot. See what goods you got to horn us up. Yes indeed, time you began acting like the queer girl you really are!” Otis would follow up immediately, slapping the other side of the faggot's face even harder and bracing himself just in case the fag suddenly lashed out. Of course this had never happened before, as they were always too stoned and drunk to even move, let alone react with that kind of speed. Finally the smile drops altogether, a worried expression raising their foreheads as they slowly cast confused dazed glances around the small room, trying to understand what is happening, and trying to comprehend what Otis has just said to them. By this time, my erect dick is leaking, throbbing painfully in my pants, begging to be released. On nearly every occasion, the faggots' faces will eventually change from confusion to undisguised growing horror. A look that tells us that they know something is terribly wrong as they finally notice how all the other men, including myself, are all leaning forward, staring back them in silent, lusting eagerness. It has always been a part of the forceful role Otis takes on to get things moving along quickly. Which is mainly to get these faggots naked and completely submissive for us to use? As Otis showed us many years ago, it's also what these fags want too. To be dominated by us. So it's in their best interest that we hurry them up, so they can quickly enjoy our rough attentions and manliness. After Otis has slapped them a few more times, making sure the fags' unable to move or resist what his about to do, he'll eventually steps back, breathing heavily and shaking with excitement as he glowers down at the now cringing, horrified faggots. “Now let's get them clothes off you, faggot!” Otis is always quick and rarely takes his time when it comes to stripping them off. He'll literally rip off their shirts, singlets or t- shirts with one almighty tug, then roughly drag their jeans, shorts and underwear off their unmoving hips, slide them down their legs and fling them off their feet. Otis will then stand up smiling, stepping back to ogle and eye the naked smooth firm bodies as they lay totally exposed before him. Maybe 3 minutes all up have past since Otis has approached them and stripped them naked. The horrified look on the terrified fags is priceless as they stare through half slitted drugged eyes down at their own naked bodies before slowly looking back up at Otis towering over them. ********** Part Four ********** Richard was no different than any of the other queers we'd met. Like them, Richard just sat there stunned into silence, unable to move, staring down at his nicely muscled smooth naked body. And like all the others, he didn't suddenly start screaming, he didn't start begging or pleading for his life, and he didn't try to move and fight back. He was too drugged to do anything other than just lie there immobile and mumble inaudible incoherent noises. The shock of seeing himself naked in front of three grown lusting men had left him completely dazed and incapable of moving, unable to comprehend the true horrifying situation he now found himself in. Otis, instantly recognising the signs that Richard was slipping into deep shock and would soon lose consciousness as the drugs took control of his scattered mind. Instantly he slapped the young high school student across his face again, breaking the trance-like spell the 17 year old youth was falling into. This time, the savage back-handed blow across the teenage student's face, knocked Richard's head back brutally and sideways into the seat he was perched on. “That's it! You got 5 seconds to get on your knees. Can't move? Well, let me help you then! And don't you go dropping off to sleep, faggot... You got some serious cock sucking ahead of you from now on!” Otis said cruelly, maliciously as he reached forward and took a clumped fistful of the young boy's blond hair and dragged him onto his unsteady knees. Richard, now on his knees, was held in place by his hair. Unable to make his body move, his mouth gaping open in stunned silence as he watched Otis glaring down into his face, then quailed in fear as he watched Otis open his dirt-grime stained denim jeans and lower them past his knees along with his unwashed piss-stained underwear. Otis immediately struck the dazed drugged boy another savage open palmed blow across the faggot's face, a stinging slap that rocked the youth's head sideways to the left this time. Then Otis repeated it the other way, making sure that the young fag wouldn't lose consciousness. “You will do everything we say, and if you don't, if you struggle or fight, if you so much as disobey any of us, I'll skin you alive and then castrate you. Do you understand girl?” Otis said in a low voice filled with deadly menace as he again savagely slapped the boy's face. Richard just knelt there, staring up into Otis' unshaven face, too drugged up to move and too terrified to try and fight back against what was happening to him. He neither cried nor pleaded with Otis to stop slapping him. He just knelt there unmoving, accepting the repeated bitch slaps Otis delivered over and over again to his reddening face as his head rocked back and forth. “Do you understand me, girl?” Otis roared loudly, excitedly, as he repeatedly slapped the boy's reddening face. Richard just gurgled and moaned softly, staring blankly up into Otis' face. “When you can move and talk, when the drugs have worn off, you'll call me and my friends SIR from now on! And you'll always respond loud and clear when you're spoken to, girl!” Otis stated gruffly, cruelly, as he again slapped Richard viciously across his face in both directions. ********* Part Five ********* There's not much to do but watch, or play cards, once Otis starts treating the faggots the way they like to be used. And when you watch Otis slacking his lust, you can't but not be impressed how he makes the fags' fall in love with him, as they obey him completely, and pleasure Otis in their special queer ways. Which is pretty amazing really, especially if you've met Otis and know what he looks like. Otis is 52 years of age, stands tall at 6' 4”, and is totally bald, with an unshaven, leathery pock-marked and cruel looking face when he snarls. At times, like a chameleon, he can appear to be gentle and kind, but when angry, or insanely horny, he glares through black malevolent intense squinty eyes, eyes that let you know to stay away from him if you have any sense at all. He has a massively large chest and stomach, although no fat can be seen at all. His entire body is covered all over by a thick coating of black course matted hair. Huge hairy rope-knotted arms hang heavily by his solid thick torso, with large calloused knuckled hands that are always tightened into clenching and unclenching fists. Otis also has a large veined 7½ inch long, 2½ inch thick uncircumcised penis with a long length of foreskin he loves the fags to stick their tongues into. With thick dense black pubic hair covering the whole of his groin right up to his large belly button, as well as huge hairy low swinging walnut sized testicles, Otis loves to proudly display his cock to anyone, male or female, who will take the risk and look. So watching him now as the young drugged high school student sucks loudly on the full length of Otis' throbbing erect penis, always makes me horny as hell, eager to enjoy the fag's lips slide over my ample 6½ inch rigid cock. Regardless, I'm kind of used to having to hang on, waiting patiently until Otis has pumped his pent-up, gluggy load down the faggot's throat before Dell, Matt, or myself get to enjoy those succulent cock sucking lips and tight hot throat. After Otis has broken the fag in, I'll usually let either Dell or Matt, or even both of them go before me, because by the time it comes round to my turn, the faggot's had enough cock sucking practise to give me a really enjoyable intense blow job. And to be honest, it doesn't really take that long for all of us to blast our spunk the first time round. All of us are usually so horned up and totally impatient to spill our spooge into the drugged fag's mouth, that just a few sucks and the feel of his tight quivering moist lips circling and sliding up and down our throbbing stiff rods will be enough to have us spurting our loads within seconds of Otis dragging the fag to kneel between our outstretched legs. This time though, Otis was taking his time, teaching the dazed drugged faggot the best ways to lick, kiss and suck his fat erect cock and large hairy balls. Also, he's stopped slapping the fag across his face. Otis just stands there, his thick hips thrust forward, his cock lodged all the way into the young kid's slurping mouth, glaring down and making the sure that the fag doesn't fall asleep on his knees while blowing him. Me, I just wanted Otis to get on with it, ejaculate in the fag's mouth then make the kid swallow his load as quickly as possible. But Otis just ignored us completely, taking his time as he watched and directed the faggot. Sometimes we'd look up as Otis started slapping Richard savagely around his blond head again, especially if the fag wasn't doing it properly, or whenever Richard's pearly white teeth accidentally grazed or scrapped the sensitive skin of Otis' thick cock shaft. I knew I shouldn't have been impatient, that it shouldn't have pissed me off, but I was beginning to worry I'd prematurely shoot my ball-snot into the bulging tented pouch of my painfully tight unwashed undies before it came around to being my turn. At first we all watched spell-bound as Otis stood there, legs wide apart, gripping the kneeling faggot's blond hair in both fists to keep him steady as he slid his rampant leaking cock down the drugged kid's throat. Otis grunted at us, chuckling as he let us know it really wasn't necessary to continually slap the fag's face all the time. He informed us in a loud boastful gruff voice how Richard in fact had told him earlier in the evening how he loved being roughed up as he was made to suck real men off. Just like all the rest of them young queers we've had over the years. I got to admit I couldn't help but question Otis on that score, because the look on the drugged faggot's face was anything but happy as he was made to deeply fellate Otis. But Otis' logic made sense when he once again told us this was just the ways of the queers, and if the faggot didn't want to do it, he'd have fought back like a real man, exactly like Dell, Matt or myself would have, if a homo tried to make any of us do something as sick as what Richard was now doing to Otis. It didn't matter if he was drugged or drunk. If he didn't want to do it, be the fag he really was, then he would have, and could have at least have made some fuss before Otis had shoved his dick into his cock sucking mouth. And after Otis had slid his prick between the fag's tight lips, we all knew he was right all along as the fag started worshiping Otis' very thick throbbing cock with his lips, tongue and mouth. Of course, with the amount of alcohol and drugs in the fag's blood, the naked youth actually looked a bit pathetic as he laboured in his cock sucking efforts, nearly falling unconscious at time as Otis slapped him to make the kneeling teenager suck properly on his pulsing leaking dick. At first I could see that the fag was having real trouble stretching his lips wide enough to accept the thick width and length of Otis' throbbing organ all the way into his mouth. Again, Otis didn't hesitate on using the palm of his hand on the young sports jocks face to get him to try harder, and before long, after a few more vicious slaps, the fag was going at it full steam, sucking cock like he'd been born to it, all the way down to Otis' very hairy balls. Just like Otis said he would, and just like fags naturally do once their coaxed out of being all shy and coy at the beginning. After a while, Otis began moaning and muttering happily to himself, then just closed his eyes as he held onto the fistfuls of Richard's blond hair in his large calloused clenched hands. Smiling happily, Otis enjoyed the sensual feel of the drugged fag picking up the pace, setting up a fast head bobbing rhythm as he sucked deeply on the massive cock. Dell and Matt both broke the spell of the moment by chuckling loudly and slapping each other on the back. Then sitting back, Matt snatched up the forgotten pack of cards on the coffee table and began dealing them out to Dell and me. “Gonna be a while before Otis is finished, so we may as well settle back and enjoy a game or two, and maybe toke back on a few more cones.” ******** Part Six ******** Five cones later, and after winning three hands of poker but losing five in a row, I eventually slouched back comfortably with my legs spread wide apart, letting the fag lick and suck on my sweaty stinking hairy ball sac. He's moist wet tongue sent tantalising shivers through my crotch, making me gasp in pleasure and quiver ecstatically as he worked his way from the bottom of my sperm filled nuts up along my spasming thickly veined cock shaft. I could tell the faggot was finally starting to sober up as the alcohol and drugs wore off. Staring up into my lust-filled eyes with a mixture of despair and fear, he obediently and gently circled his slurping lips to suck firmly on the thick helmet of my large flanged dick-head. Then sticking the tip of his tongue tenderly into my leaking piss slit, he licked all the pre-cum oozing out, swallowing it all as he continued to slurp away. Like Otis, Dell and Matt before me, I also closed my eyes as I basked in the intense pleasures this fag was lavishing on my throbbing cock. Needless to say the other guys had broken him in completely. So by the time Matt pulled the fag over to me and made him kneel on unsteady trembling knees between my parted legs, his arms hanging limply at his sides. Well, all I could do was squirm and wiggle about on my hairy arse in absolute bliss as he used his newly acquired cock sucking skills to tantalise and tease me. It was absolutely awesome! Like my buddies before me, I'd stop him now and then, lift his sad yet dazed face off my stiff prick, gave him a few head-jarring slaps, before I finally gripped the back of his bobbing blond head by his hair in both my clenched fists, and forced the full length of my rampant cock past his thick tight lips, over his lapping tickling tongue and then all the way down his softly gagging, constricting throat. Then fucking upwards into his young handsome face, I let out a huge bellow as I jettisoned about 3 or 4 mighty spurts of molten spunk into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his throat and lips squeezing every ounce of my sperm out of my rampant rod. Now I know why I like going last, I thought contentedly as the fag drained the last of my juices out of my balls. It's when the faggots are at their best. Once Otis, Dell and Matt have taught them how to suck a big cock properly, and then when it's my turn, the queers use their newly acquired skills to give me the ultimate mind-blowing head-job. By the time he'd swallowed all my spunk and cleaned my unwashed filthy bushy groin at the base of my cock with his tongue and slurping mouth, and then frog-marched him hobbling on his knees back over to kneel next to Otis, I was dead tired, exhausted. Also, it was early morning by now, and I could see faint wisps of natural light rays slowly creeping through the closed dust-covered curtains hanging from the trailer's window, indicating the sun was about to rise. Matt was already asleep, sitting opposite me, slouched back with his chin on his chest, naked from the waist down, his bony ankles touching each other and knees spread wide apart, displaying his huge semi-stiff uncut cock and hairy low hanging bull balls. Dell was slowly dispatching another dope-filled cone into his lungs, probably his last one for the evening. His red veined eyes half slits, slowly closing against his will, as his over stimulated drugged and drunken mind began shutting down ready for sleep. Within minutes, Dell would teeter over onto his side to join Matt for a few hours of much needed slumber. I too felt myself beginning to slip into automatic sleep mode. Through half opened eyes that were getting heavier and heavier, I vaguely watched with complete indifference as Otis, who was still wide awake and now completely naked and leaning back in his own personal comforter lounge chair, raised the half full can of beer he was holding in his right hand to his lips, consuming most of its contents in one long gulp. In the palm of his left hand, Otis continued to cup and squeeze the fag's rather large, lightly haired testicles, chuckling at times when he pulled too hard or squeezed to tightly, forcing a near-audible groan of whimpered pain from the young high school student to spread his knees wider apart as he struggled to stay motionless and balanced upright. Staring straight ahead, the fag's glazed over dazed eyes becoming clearer as he sobered up, Richard was the epitome of wretchedness and total misery, all wrapped up into one hilarious despairing package. It still amazes me, even appalls me at times, that faggots actually like to be treated so roughly, just to get their perverted, deviant rocks off. As my sagging half-lidded sleep weighed eyes travelled over the fag's rather handsome youthful face, at his tear-filled blue eyes, at his cute button topped nose, and at his thick but pert cock sucking lips, and as I watched him quiver and shake in his nakedness, I again realised Otis had been right. In fact, from the very beginning, Otis had always been right. The faggot, even after being made to suck us off, still knelt there next to Otis silently, uncomplaining, sporting a stiff erect teen cock, his face reflecting a dazed, stunned expression. From time to time, Otis would reach up and roughly stroke and jerk the fag's erection when he wasn't fondling with the fag's plump dangling nuts. Earlier in the evening, once Otis had stopped slapping the teenager across his face, he again tried to prove his point to Dell, Matt and me, that all faggots liked the sort of rough treatment we meted out to them. Otis had laughed hideously when he'd reached between the kneeling fag's parted inner thighs, painfully gripped Richard's flaccid penis, and as he stroked its 5” length and tugged on and twisted the youth's silky soft elastic length of foreskin, he ordered the young high school student to get a hard-on. Again Otis had chuckled with derision as the fag, with a pitifully desperate and despairing look staring out of his dazed blue eyes, looked ahead blankly and concentrated as hard as he could for his limp penis to respond to the rough ministrations of Otis' calloused fisting squeezing hand. After long seconds, the fag's dick rose to its full length, his large plum-shaped cock-head poking through his retracting foreskin, expanding widely and purplish at the end of Richard's now 6” fully erect penis. “Told ya! If he wasn't a fucking faggot fruit, there's no way his dick would get hard! No fucking way at all!” Otis had announced grandly as he continued to jerk the fag, watching intently as pre-cum oozed out and dribbled onto Otis' fisted hand. Of course, Otis had proved his point much earlier in the evening, but now my tired eyes were nearly closed. And as I felt myself finally nodding off and slowly falling over onto my side, my mind and body succumbing to the sweet embrace of much needed sleep, I watched as Otis, grabbing the fag's jutting hard-on to pull himself up into a standing position, quickly bitch slap the teenager, pull him up onto his unsteady legs and then push and manoeuvre the naked high school student towards the bedroom section at the far west end of the trailer caravan. *********** Part Seven *********** It was a deep fitful sleep I fell into, punctuated by a number of disorienting times where I woke up confused about where I was, waking to disturbing sounds that interrupted whatever dreams I was having. Each time I'd raise my head, check my surroundings, realise the unsettling noises were coming from the west end bedroom, before letting myself sink back into my pleasant dream-filled sleep state. At one time, half waking with an urgent need to empty my bladder, I quickly made my way to the small cubicle that served as shower and toilet. As I flushed the loo, and closed the Venetian slide door behind me, yawning widely and readying myself to crash out again, my curiosity pricked by the rise and fall of gruff muffled voices, of sudden loud grunting and gurgling, of low stifled moans and miserable uttered squeals of agony, followed by soft uncontrollable weeping. Now, I never thought of myself a voyeur in any sense of the word, but as I silently pulled back the linen sheet used to partition off the west end bedroom of the trailer from the rest of the mobile dwelling, I found myself fascinated as I watched the rough rutting faggot action taking place on the large bed before me. It was, in a strange sick sort of way, kind of erotic, as Otis, unaware that I was watching, roughly and cruelly fucked the young fag in a brutal, savage missionary position. I mean, there was Richard, his wrists still securely handcuffed behind him as he lay on his back with his long legs pulled wide apart and pinned down way up past his head. In this position, the young fag's firm white buttocks had been forced high up into the air off the mattress, his arse cheeks spread wide. His knees were pushed down on top of his shoulder joints, as both his ankles had been stretched about 4 feet from each other, tied with rope to metal hoops bolted at opposite ends of the bed's long wooden headrest. And then there was Otis, completely naked, lying sprawled on top of the fag, thrusting and burying his thick erect cock balls deep with each pounding thrust, in and out of Richard's arsehole. Otis, as he laid face down staring maliciously and with utter contempt into the faggot's grimacing pain- streaked face, rested the huge girth and weight of his large hairy torso on the fag's widely spread inner thighs and chest. Hugging the smaller teenager's scrunched up body tightly to him as he maintained a steady pounding rhythm, Otis raised and dropped his solid hips up and down, in a manic fucking tempo that loudly rattled and shook the large bed back and forth against the long wooden headrest. Richard, his mouth firmly gagged with an old pair of Otis' month's old unwashed socks, stared up in agony and fear as Otis fucked him, tears flowing down his cheeks as he endured the massively thick cock plunging in and out of him, stretching his anus beyond agonising endurance, stabbing deep into him as Otis sweated, grunted and puffed away on top of him. Whimpering, at times trying to scream and plead through his gag, all the horrified fag could do was lay there, probably praying to his god that Otis would blessedly finish soon. And Otis, lost in the heady ether of his fuck-lust, pumped and pounded away, indifferent to the fag's agony, or to being aware to the fact I was watching. It seemed to go on for ages as Otis' clenching and unclenching arse cheeks bobbing up and down furiously as he pounded away. When the fag started to hysterically cry and sob in loud muffled gagged tones as sudden waves of extreme pain and agony swept throughout his tortured bent over body, Otis would instantly lower his sweating chest down onto the tormented high school student, and start kissing him long and hard, whispering harshly that the fag better shut the fuck up and start squeezing his loosening boy-pussy tightly around the full thickness of his plunging throbbing cock. Many times, as Otis long-dicked the young fag, he'd slow down so he could prolong his pleasures before cumming, sometimes viciously slapping the pinned down young queer around his face. “You know you love it faggot, now buck ya boy-pussy up and down my cock, fag. Don't make me have to do all the work!” Otis threatened as he again slammed his viciously pounding cock in and out of the pain-riddled fag's arsehole. “Besides fag, once I've finished with you, at least you'll know how to pleasure my buddies properly. Just like you always wanted to, you faggot whore!” Otis sneered as he fucked away brutally. In a daze, feeling hornier than I'd ever felt before, I silently let the sheet drop behind me as I made my way back to the lounge room. ********** Part Eight ********** I woke up a few hours later feeling rested up, and as I do every morning of the week when I wake up, I sucked down a few cones to take away the small fuzzy hangover I always feel after a hard night of drinking. Puffing away, I absently watched as Matt thrust his stiff organ in and out of Richard's arsehole. On his hands and knees, the young fag grunted and gasped in pain every time Matt shoved his rigid manhood up into his stretched swollen anus. “Dell already fucked the fag stupid when he was tied up on my bed this morning. Took his fucking time too!” Otis chuckled absently as he watched me pull on a cone and then wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I moved my eyes back over to where Matt was moaning and groaning with ecstatic pleasure, and watched as the older man, with his cock still lodged all the way up the fag's pussy, bent over the kneeling high school student's back, wrapped his large powerful arms around the fag's chest, hugged him close to him as he rapidly speared the teenager up his arsehole. Within seconds, Matt finally rammed his throbbing dick all the way up the boy's tortured hole, ejaculating powerfully as he crushed the young faggot to him. Just watching had made me hard, and I thrilled at the opportunity to stuff my large pulsing shaft up the fag's already lubricated pussy. But first I had to take a leak. Otis, already on his third beer since getting up this morning, gestured for me to sit back down as I went to get up and make my way to the toilet. “Faggot can take care of that for you, Rod! Just sit back and let him do what he does best!” Otis smiled at me as he ordered the young fag to hurry up and kneel between my outstretched legs. Yeah, it was good! The kid's moist lips wrapped around my semi-hard cock, gulping down the torrential flood of steaming acrid urine that gushed out of my bladder. Contented, I watched as he struggled to swallow it all, as he forced himself not to gag or throw up from the pungent toxic taste flowing over his taste buds. Most importantly, he didn't let a single drop go astray. And once I'd finished with pissing in his mouth, the young fag went straight on to give me a lovely morning blow job. Of course, I had to stop him just before he'd brought me close to orgasming, as I wanted to sample his already stretched and loose boy-pussy. With a sad despondent look on his face, his head hanging in shame, the fag silently obeyed me when I indicated for him to go get on Otis' bed and lay on his back for me. I took my time with him then, as I quickly placed Richard's long muscled legs over my large shoulders, slid my dick up his slippery cum-lubed pussy with one hard shove, and commenced fucking the submissive fag as hard as I could. To my surprise, his arse muscles began squeezing tightly around my thrusting cock shaft, sending intense shivers racing through my body as I banged away. And as I picked up the pace, fucking the young fag as savagely as I could without pushing myself over the edge, he looked up into my leering unshaven face, his blue eyes full of tears and began thanking me for fucking him like a real man. The compliment drove me on, increased my ardour for him and I reflected on what Otis had always told us so many times! This young high school student was nothing more than a complete faggot, a homo who loved to be fucked hard up his anus. Here he was thanking me for fucking him. In fact, every time I shoved my dick all the way up his arsehole, he'd thank me, gasping and grunting his words of thanks as each thrust of my cock all the way up his pussy punched the air out of his lungs and young lean body. It wasn't long before I arched my back, pounded my hips down as hard as I could and ejaculated my man-seed deep inside his bowels. ********* Part Nine ********* Three days later, as the young fag fussed around in the trailer's kitchen making Otis, Dell, Matt and me some ham and cheese sandwiches for lunch, Otis asked us casually who we should give Richard to, once we'd finally grown tired of using him. As a joke, I said we should just give him to Jason Tebbits, the 49 year old loner out on Highway 6, who'd lived there by himself in a small rusting bean-shaped caravan for the last 30 years. When I mentioned it, everyone roared with laughter, as we all knew there was no way the young fag would be alive after staying one week with that psychopathic sex maniac. Jeremy, the last sixteen year old fag we'd given to him over 3 years ago, he'd nearly beaten to death as he was brutally fucking him. Jason reckoned he didn't know he was doing it until he'd shot his load up the boy's over used stretched pussy and realised the fag was unconscious, severely bashed and in a deep coma. Immediately, we'd had to get Doc Wilson out there, and once he'd taken a cursory look at the youth, he ordered us to get the fag over to his private surgery as quickly as possible. Well, Doc Wilson looked after that young fag, caring for him and keeping him alive until one day months later, the teenager woke up. Needless to say the young fag ended up staying with the Doc, at first locked away in a small iron-wrought cage Otis had built and installed in the Doc's basement. For six months Jeremy was kept caged, until finally he was released and now serves Doc Wilson with all the faggotty loving care he can. Matt reckoned we should give him to Randy Jacobs and his two adult sons, who lived in a large trailer home out at Wannabella Caravan Park, 120km east of town. To me, that wasn't a bad idea. Randy, now in his late 60s, and his three sons, all in there late 30's and early 40's, were still moaning the loss of Randy's wife and the boy's mother's four years earlier. It would be good if they had some domestic help living with them, someone who would cook their meals, keep the trailer clean and suck their cocks and bend over for a hard fucking whenever they got horny. Dell's idea was we should give Richard to our local state senator. Senator George Jamieson, who represented the constituents of our great southern state in the national senate, was also known as a cruel and sadistic deviant, who took great pleasure in torturing young teenage boys when he could get his hands on them. Dell reckoned it was important that we kept on the good side of that perverted man, as we'd never know when he'd come in handy. Never were truer words spoken when Dell put that idea to us. In hindsight, we should have offered the Senator a faggot when Otis and the men-folk in town came up with the concept of giving these randy little faggots to single lonely men who'd really appreciate their loving company. But it was Otis who finally spoke up and said maybe we should give the young fag to old man Langley. Old man Langley was 74 this year. Living by himself at the Cherry Blossom Caravan Resort, 70km west of town, he had been alone for over 50 years, and Otis said he felt a deep sadness whenever he thought how lonely that old man must be. We were silent for a while, realising just how kind- hearted Otis was. Also, it was pretty much decided that Richard would be handed over to the old man. Of course, the young fag would stay with Otis for the next few months, and once Otis thought Richard was truly being the young faggot that we all knew he was, and once he'd been trained up enough to look after the old man's needs, then Otis would then take him over to old man Langley's. ********* Part Ten ********* So it was, that for that first week, Otis, Dell, Matt and I fucked that young fag whenever the urge took us, and in as many imaginative positions we could think of. And as we expected, while we repeatedly gang-banged him or took him off for more private intimate sessions, he didn't once try to get away, he didn't once scream or cry, and he didn't once deny he was nothing but a queer faggot. All he did was hang his head in shame and humiliation, silently crying and sobbing to himself every time he cleaned Otis' trailer home, cooked our meals and sucked our dicks when we wanted him to. In fact, because he was such a docilely submissive queer faggot, just like all the other young fags we'd fucked over the years, we all decided to keep him very busy, either on his knees or on his back with his legs over our shoulders. Anyway, eventually I headed back to town, dropping in to see Bill Jenkins and his 18 year old faggot. Bill's an old friend who was a little better off than the rest of us, but he still lived in a trailer home closer to town. As I was sitting back in Bill's cosy trailer lounge room, with his naked young fag kneeling between my legs sucking firmly on my cock, my old mate and me talked about times past as we both enjoyed a cool refreshing beer. Bill asked about the missing 17 year old teenager who'd disappeared a week earlier, and smiling knowingly, I told him not to worry, that Otis had a young faggot staying with him who would be a gift for old man Langley. I had to admit his young fag was making me tremble uncontrollably from the intense working over his mouth and tongue gave my erect throbbing cock. Before I knew it, I blasted my load down the faggot's throat and watched as he lapped my dick clean. “So how many is it now, Rod? How many fags have Otis and you collected over the years?” Bill asked with interest. Actually, his question took me by surprise... I hadn't really though about that, and as I did a few quick calculations in my head, trying to remember how many young queers had crossed our paths on a yearly basis. All the young faggots we'd placed in good homes with lonely single men-folk from town, real straight men who knew how to treat them in the best faggot ways that these young queers loved to be treated. And as a close estimated figure popped into my head, I realised with amazement it had to be close to 70 or 80 young fags over a 10 year period. Twenty of those were picked up from town, in pubs and bars that Otis, Dell, Matt and me drank at, while the rest were all hitch-hikers who were passing through. *********** Part Eleven *********** It was 6 months later when Dell and Matt came and told me that Otis had been arrested. The three of us were at first a bit panicked, but the more we talked about it, the less worried we became. I mean, the fact is, none of us had done anything wrong! But what I wanted to know was why was the young fag still at Otis' place after all this time, and not with old man Langley? Also, how the fuck did the little shit get away from Otis? Matt told me that Otis had decided Richard wasn't ready yet to stay with the old man, that he still needed a lot more training to be the proper little faggot queer he was. Yeah! No shit! I mean, f4rom what I'd already learnt so far, it don't take no brain surgeon to figure that one out. Then Dell told me how Otis had gone into town without cuffing the young fag to the bed as he usually did. Thought he'd give the kid a break and let him wander about free in the trailer for the day. By the time Otis got back, the kid had skedaddled, and before he knew it, the coppers had roared up to Otis' front door to arrest him. Apparently the young fag had been found lying unconscious and naked by the side of the main road going into town, by a very surprised old couple who nearly ran over him as they drove into town to watch a late evening movie at the old gala cinema. Instantly identified as the teenage youth, Richard Cunningham, who'd disappear six months previously, he was rushed to the local hospital where he was immediately treated for malnutrition and severe hyperthermia. And as soon as the young fag woke, there were his parents and four younger brothers, as well as 5 burly police officers surrounding his hospital bed. Dell and Matt must have seen the worry on my face, and suddenly they both started laughing, telling me to mellow out, that everything was okay. “Judge Kennard is already on to it. Promised Dell he'd have Otis released by tomorrow morning. No charges and he'll drag the coppers over the coals!” Matt chuckled as he watched me settle down and a large hideous smile cross my face. “Also, the judge wants to meet the young fag who's made these terrible allegations against his brother Otis!” Matt winked at me. “Said if the teenager's as good looking as Dell described him, he just might see if the kid would like to stay with him for an extended visit. Of course, he did add that it would be our job to pick up the faggot once again, as well as making sure the young fag didn't get away this time!” Matt finished, roaring with laughter at the irony of it all. The End ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 49