Irian Jaya

By: David Andrew
(© 2011 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1

The large gaudy stamp caught my eye as soon as I opened my mailbox, Indonesian, mailed in Irian Jaya. Now there is a name to drop at a party. I recognized the writing at once, it was from my long-time friend and fuck buddy, Barry. We went way back, I think what made the bond between us so strong was that in a school full of circumcised kids we were the exceptions, the only real men as we liked to say. It all started in junior school, 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'. When we were eight it became physical, 'you can touch mine if you let me touch yours'. At twelve we were jerking each other off in the locker room after football, after swimming, after anything. At fourteen we started sucking. By the time we were sixteen we were reading every gay mag we could get our hands on. We knew the theory, on a family camping expedition, we put it into practice, fucked our brains out in our two-man tent, down by the river, in the river, in a rowing boat on the lake. My father decided to sign me up for a gym, I seemed to get exhausted by even the shortest climbs. Luckily we only camped for a week, Barry was exceptionally well endowed for a teenager, if we had stayed any longer I would have needed medical attention. My ass was so sore that I could hardly walk, and the ride home in the back of the family truck was shear torture. In college we majored in torture. It started at the fraternity initiation. Barry and I suffered the most because we were the only men with foreskins, and of course the most sensitive dick-heads. We were so turned on that we just didn't want it to stop. So we kept on doing it, dreaming up new and more painful tests to inflict on each other.

We had kept in touch after college, he went into the oil industry, and I got a commercial pilot's license and a job in civil aviation. If half of what Barry told me in his letters was true he certainly had the better sex life. He was on an oil rig for a couple of years, twenty-eight days at a time with several hundred hunky men. Not one of them was queer when ashore, but very few of them could go twenty-eight hours never mind twenty-eight days without sex on the rig. Since alcohol was strictly forbidden, the crew talked about and lived for the next stein of draught beer. But the liquid Barry craved was available on draught twenty-four hours a day, fresh, hot and slippery. In one of his letters he told me that he was putting on weight, not from over eating, but the pints of cum he drew off weekly. I suppose it was a high protein diet. In the airline many of the cabin-crew were gay, but the flight-crew were the archetypal straight arrows from the flat-top haircuts to the tips of their spit-shined shoes. Much as I would have liked to grab at some of the fully loaded crotches, or stroked the smooth round asses, I knew it would only have been a matter of hours before the word went around about the flying fairy. One way or another my next simulator check would have finished my career. Not that I was entirely without comfort and nourishment, I soon learned where cocks and cum, meat and drink, were to be found in each of the cities in which we lay over.

Anyway to get back to the letter, Barry had been in Indonesia for a couple of months, working with an oil company exploration team in Irian Jaya. This time he was based in a small fishing village on the north coast, not far from Wolen. His description of the village sounded fascinating, situated between azure blue coral lagoon and jungle clad mountains which were inhabited by the most primitive tribesmen. These were the guys you see in the PBS programs wearing nothing but some feathers and a penis sheath. A seriously penile culture. One of the benefits of working for an airline is the ability to travel, so as soon as I could fix the time off I was on my way, and a long way it was. First to Jakarta, then back-tracking on an island hopping twin-jet to Jayapura where Barry was waiting for me. The next leg was in a Twin Otter to Wolen and the last bone shaking thirty miles was in a four-wheel drive truck. By this time Barry had been at the camp for several months and as he fought with the steering wheel he brought me up to date on his sex life. Of the twenty foreign guys in the camp he had seduced two, and had high hopes of adding more in the near future.

"So things are good in the jungle," I said.

"You can bet your ass on it, it's the heat that does it, wasn't like this on the rig. We had our videos, blue movies, but TV and masturbation for twenty-eight days is boring, boring. A week or two of beating your own meat you need variety. For the straight guys there was absolutely no female company. That's where I scored. But they could never get straight into it, always had to wait a week or so, somehow that made it OK. If they waited a week they weren't queers. Down here it's different. When your balls are hanging half way to your knees and rolling around in the bed at night, it's hard to think of anything else. I'm telling you, I'll need a month in a rest-home when I get away from here. It's not just me, you can see it in their eyes, everyone of them. There are some females around here, looks don't matter, they’re all fully occupied. But most of the guys will never get their dicks into a cunt, not a chance. They'll get tired of jerking off alone in their huts, I'm going to get all I can handle."

"These two guys you've scored with, how far have you gone with them?"

"It's been plain vanilla so far, and you know what turns me on. Neither of them knows about the other one. That's the stage we're at, no eye contact in public. Never sit close at the bar. All that bullshit!"

"I must say my heart bleeds for you, trapped on an island with only two fuck buddies. Life's a bitch."

"No, I'm not complaining, but there's one guy who really interests me, Andy. He's eighteen, son of a missionary. He was raised in this island, speaks several of the local languages. He's working as an interpreter for the company. I'm sure he's gay, I've tried many times to get him alone, but every time something, or someone, has interrupted."

"You mean he said 'no'."

"No, he hasn't said 'no'. I’ve never even got to the point where he might say 'no'. But I'm sure he's gay. Not only that, I reckon he needs discipline."

"You know all this, and you haven't even fingered his ass yet?"

"I'm just telling you that's all. I know about these things…you'll see. I might even give you a go at his balls if you're good to me. Anyway, I've got a plan and it's ready to roll."

"So tell all."

"I've planned an expedition into the mountains, to go find some tribesmen, the Danai, the ones that I told you about, with the bound up cocks. Well that's the story, and that should be interesting too, but of course we'll need a guide and interpreter. Guess who? Want to come along for the ride? He is worth riding I can tell you."

"Well if I don't get to ride him I'll have to punish you for the disappointment. How long have you been planning this?"    

"Since the first day I saw the boy."

"That figures. I'm glad to see your not loosing your enthusiasm."

"No fear of that, you'll see why when you see him."

"And when do you plan hit the trail?"

"Well... We've got to start tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow? Jesus, I wont even wake up tomorrow."

"Like I said, you will when you see him."

That evening I did see him, in the camp dining room. He was sitting at a table by himself. I didn't need to ask who he was, the look he gave Barry as we came in spoke volumes. I had to admit it, Barry was probably right. We had never been lovers in the accepted sense, but if I wasn't feeling jealous I was certainly feeling envious. How did Barry always manage to land on his feet? It wasn't just that this boy was the only eighteen year-old in the camp, he would have stood out of the crowd any night on Castro Street or in Greenwich Village. Wearing just a vest and shorts, six foot, blond hair hanging down to broad shoulders, narrow waist, firm round buns and strong legs. What his father was doing when let this boy move into a camp full of hard, horny oil-men I couldn't imagine. Just shows how far out of touch with reality these missionaries can be.

We joined Andy at his table for a meal. At first he was shy and reserved, but when Barry brought the conversation around to the forthcoming expedition, specifically the tribesmen and their unusual mode of dress, he really came to life. He was particularly enthusiastic about the initiation rites that boys had to undergo to reach manhood.

"They live with their mothers in the women's section of the camp until they are seven or eight years old. Actually they don't have too much concept of age in years, it goes more on size than age."

"Size of what?" asked Barry. Andy blushed.

"No...er...I mean how tall they are, they don't know how old they are, or only very approximately. Well anyway the rites are not carried out every year, they wait until there are about ten to fourteen boys of about the right size. They are taken to the men's section of the camp, always high up the mountain above the women's section. The men can look down into the women's area, but the women must never be able to see what the men are doing. So these boys are taken away to live with men whom they have seldom seen because the adult men spend a lot of their time away from camp either hunting or fighting with neighboring tribes. You see, they only sleep with their wives to get children. And after a child is born the father might not sleep with the woman for the next two or three years...or even longer."

"Wonder what they do to get their rocks off between times," said Barry looking Andy straight in the eye in mock innocence  Again the boy was embarrassed,.

"Oh well... Well I was telling you about the initiation.... So the boys are put in a hut of their own, all scared sick of course. While they lived with their mothers the boys wore loin-clothes, but when they reach the men's camp these are taken from them. They live entirely naked until they complete the rites in about five years, that's when they get their penis sheaths. There is always an even number of boys, they tend to form pairs. They're encouraged to: it helps them through the ordeals."

"Five years?" I asked.

"Yes, it's long and very painful, but they are introduced to pain quite gradually."

"What sort of pain are you talking about?" asked Barry. A leading question if ever I heard one.

"Well their whole bodies have to be toughened up. They need stamina for hunting: they chase game through the forest for great distances. Their skin has to become inured to the poisonous vines, and resist the thorns. They need strength and courage for fighting other tribes. Fighting goes on all the time. You know how they show their courage? They have to be able to keep up an erection during a fight with spears and arrows flying around. That's a sign of manhood. To lose the erection is very bad, a terrible disgrace."

"And these tests that they have to endure, do they include the genitals?" I asked.

"Er...Well yes, sort of."

"Sort of?"  I asked putting the pressure on.

"Um...Yes...Yes it does." By now he was definitely breathing harder.

"So tell us about it," chipped in Barry.

"Well it's easier if I just tell you about the whole thing, the way they are trained. First I should tell you that the boys are each assigned to a warrior, he is their personal guide and teacher, their father. Not their real father, a man never trains his own son, but this man takes the place of the father. The beatings start on the very first day. They are carried, piggy-back, by their warriors. When they are young they are always beaten in this way. At first it isn't too hard, just a light birching with twigs on their backs. At least one of the boys will get an erection, of course the warrior can feel it. He tells the boy how pleased he is, strokes him, maybe kisses him... down there... He is shown to the others as a good example, given treats like berries, honeycombs. Pretty soon they are all having erections. That's when they switch to a ratan cane, a thin one, but quite severe. They all end up in tears, then they are beaten again for crying: it's not manly. After the beating they are comforted by their warriors, stroked and kissed... That sort of thing. At night they have their buddies, so they become very close. It's part of their upbringing, their culture."

"You mean they are encouraged to comfort each other sexually?"

"Yes... you could put it that way, but of course at this stage they are very young." I thought of Barry and myself at that age. I glanced at him, he smirked, obviously thinking the same thing. "They're beaten every day, morning and evening."

"And the beatings, is it done only on the back?" asked Barry, provocative as always.

"Up until the time the whole group learns to take it in silence, but then it changes."

"What changes?"

"Well up to this time they have been kept on their own, not allowed to mix with the men, nor even with the older boys. When each one in the group takes the pain without crying or making any fuss they are ready to be taken to the ceremonial ground. There they are tied to posts to watch as the oldest group of boys are put through their final initiation rites, a pretty severe ordeal."

"So what do they do?" I asked.

"They start by scarifying their faces, cut patterns of lines into the cheeks, tribal marks. Then each one in turn has to take his turn in the center of the clearing. He stands between two bamboo poles set about four feet apart, his legs spread wide, arms stretched out to the sides to grasp the poles. Then he's whipped all over his body with stinging vines. The skin comes up in huge red weals. The whipping is done by the boy's own warrior. He's not a sadist, but he concentrates on the genitals to show how well he has trained the boy. They swell up enormously, really awful to see, and they have to take it without flinching or making any sound."

At this point I accidentally pushed a knife off the edge of the table. Bending down to retrieve it I saw a flash of light between the boy's legs. It was a moment before I realized what I was looking at in the shadow under the table, a shining bead of precum at the end of a fully aroused cock. Obviously no underwear, his dick was sticking out of his shorts, reaching halfway to his knee. But that wasn't all, he was uncut too. The foreskin stretched really tight, the head just peeking out with the bright spot of light in the slit. So Barry was right, the fucker was always right. This could be very good! When I got back up the boy was looking at me in a funny kind of a way, a bit flushed perhaps. He probably knew what I had seen. Had he wanted me to see it, or was he regretting being so rash? I knew exactly what was going through his mind.

"And are they then considered to be men if they take in silence?"

"No, that's not the end. There's a large log in the clearing. They either cut two slots in the underside of the log so that ropes can be passed through, or they'll leave a couple of bits of branch that they can attach the ropes to. The first boy will have had about an hour to recover from the whipping so he is then brought back. He lies down on the log, on his back, his arms and legs are secured using the ropes. Then he is circumcised. Traditionally they used a flint, but now it's usually a piece of broken glass, or a knife if they have one that is sharp enough. And he still isn't allowed to make a sound. He has to get up and follow his master out of the clearing unaided." I looked at Barry, I could see what he was thinking, we'd gotten into some heavy scenes but broken glass? Reasonably sharp knives? I shuddered.

"And the small boys have to watch?" Barry asked incredulously.

"Yes they do. They're tied to posts set in a semi-circle around whipping posts and the log. Of course from that time they know what is ahead for them, four or five years ahead, but it is always there."

"I bet they don't jerk off that night. Do they give them the rest of the evening off?"

"For the new men, that’s the ones who’ve just been initiated, yes they’re allowed to rest, but not the little boys."

"But they must be in bits after seeing all that," I said.

"Well, bits or not, their ordeals are just starting. They are told that they are going to be given a great honor, of being tied to the same sacrificial log, just for a moment. Of course they are not at all happy after what they have just seen, but they are told that they will not be cut, and right after they are released they will be allowed to play the sacred pipes and rewarded with a special drink. Most of them probably think they will be given some of the arack, distilled coconut sap, and literally play some pipes.

"When they have been calmed down the first one is brought out and secured in place. He is the lucky one, he doesn't know what's coming. The medicine man comes out with a bunch of leaves, not as poisonous as the vine, but they still give a nasty sting. He uses them as a switch on the boy's er... cock...and... balls. Of course there's a lot of crying and struggling, but each of them has to go through the ordeal. Then the warriors lead them off into the bush. That's when they find out about the holy pipes, and the special drink. They have to suck the warrior's cock and swallow his semen." That was the first time he had actually said the words cocks and balls, up till now it had always been 'genitals'. It was obviously hard for him coming from a religious background to say 'cocks', 'dicks' and 'balls'. We'd get him over that in the next couple of days.

"So, the holy pipes dispense holy water."

"Yes, a warrior's semen is very powerful, it's what a boy needs to grow to manhood. That's why only enough is given to the women to make a family, all the rest is fed to the boys, and a great warrior will supply enough for three or four boys. The greater his fame the more they value his seed.

'Nice line', I thought, how come in the West nobody had ever come up with that one. I could just imagine the scene, 'No Your Honor, I did not seduce the child, I was just ensuring that he got a healthy, balanced diet.' I let my napkin slip to the floor, deliberately this time. He was rock hard, the foreskin had rolled right back fully exposing his beautiful flared cock-head. When our eyes met he didn't look away. He knew that I knew. Yes this was going to be a great trip.

At this point we were joined by another guy. He had been sitting at the table next to ours and it had been obvious for some time that he was fascinated by the conversation. Now, uninvited, he moved his chair over to join us. Since I was a newcomer he introduced himself to me as 'The Reverend Harley'. It soon became obvious from the way that Barry ignored him that he had scant respect for the intruder. Andy, however, was quite deferential, his father was, after all, a missionary. However, it very soon became obvious that the Reverend Harley's interest centered on the homosexual aspects of tribal life rather than their spiritual well being. Normally I would warm to anyone who showed an interest in homosexuality, but this gentleman turned my stomach. All his questions were about the intimate physical acts, who did what to whom, at what age, how often. That was alright, but at each revelation he expressed horror and disgust, yet couldn't wait to hear more. After dominating the conversation for about half an hour he announced that he would join our expedition. It wasn't a question, just a statement. Andy seemed surprised, but obviously felt that he couldn't question the reverend gentleman's decision. To my surprise Barry just got up and walked away without a word. All the plans for the trip had been blown away. Suddenly the effects of the long journey swept over me, I was totally exhausted, had to sleep. I was just wondering if I could find Barry's house when he reappeared.

"Ah, Barry," I said. "Listen, I've had it, I'm all in, got to hit the sack."

"Me too. Goodnight Andy, see you in the morning, six sharp OK?"

"Sure Barry, I'll be ready, see you at the pad." The pad was the helicopter landing pad. Barry had arranged to be dropped off in the mountains by one of the company choppers which was delivering parts to an outlying drilling site.

As Barry and I walked the short distance to his place I said something about what a fuck up it was going to be with the missionary along. "Don't worry about him," said Barry. "He won't be coming."

"Oh... well he has arranged to meet Andy in the morning."

"That's fine, I've made arrangements for the morning too. I've included him out! However there is one thing we have to decide and that's how do we take young Andy. I mean should we resort to physical persuasion if he seems reluctant?"

"That would be risky. Remember this is a small community, you've got to work with them for another year or more."

"Yes, that's what I was thinking. But suppose we are sure he wants to play, but is just too nervous?"

"Well I guess we'll have to play it by ear, get the feel as we go along. The trick will be to get the balls rolling without scaring him shitless. I assume he's a virgin."

"Oh yes, he's a virgin alright. I suppose we take any opportunity we get to start something and see what happens. We can't plan anything in detail"

I felt a bit better, but was too tired to rouse myself for the ball torture which I had planned for my first night with Barry. I do remember him working on my balls when he got into bed beside me, but I wasn't much good for him. I went out like a light.

Next morning we were up by five-thirty, daylight just breaking. At six we were at the heli-pad. Andy and the lecherous Reverend were already there. In the office I could hear a crackling short-wave radio: a weather report. "Wind 360 at 6, CAVOK, 28, 26, Nosig." A guy in flying overalls came out of the back office frowning, a piece of paper in his hand. "Ah, good morning all. It doesn't look so good at the drill head," he said waving the paper towards Barry. I was amazed. What the report had said was that there was a light northerly wind, CAVOK meant that the Ceiling and Visibility were OK, 28, 26 were the temperature and dew-point and Nosig meant that there would be no significant change in the next four hours.

"Shit," said Barry. "Oh Charlie, this is David, just arrived yesterday. Flies with Polar."

"Glad to meet you," said Charlie.

"Morning," I said. "Was that the weather I heard?"

"Yes," he said giving me a curious look. Then turning to Barry, "I'm afraid it means I'll have to carry enough fuel for the round trip in case I can't land at the drill-head."

"So what does that mean for us?" asked Barry in what sounded very much like a prompt.

"Well I'll have to check the load, but I reckon we'll be restricted to a total of four on board. That's max. Won't have the weight to spare for any more than that. How about trying again another day?" So that was what the look had meant, conditions could hardly have been better at the drill-head, Barry had fixed this the night before.

"No, that's no good, David's only here for a short visit and we want to be up there for the full moon. Well Reverend," he said addressing the missionary for the very first time, "I'm sure you won't mind, there'll be plenty more opportunities." The situation being resolved to Barry's entire satisfaction he turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

By the time we got airborne clouds were beginning to build up over the mountains. After about thirty minutes Charlie pointed to a cloud covered ridge and said to Andy, "Looks like you're going to have to change your plans. That's where I dropped you and your father last time, but there's no way we can get over there today."

There was a brief discussion between Charlie, Barry and Andy as to what we should do now. I was just wondering if the Reverend Lech had had a word with his maker to put a jinx on the trip. After another twenty minutes or so we came to a clearer area further along the same mountain ridge. From some way off we could see a small clearing on a fairly level section, just below the main ridge. Andy reckoned we could make our way back to the area he knew by simply following the crest of the mountain ridge. We had the latest in navigation equipment, a hand-held GPS set hardly bigger than a Walkman, which gave an exact read-out of latitude and longitude. Even if we couldn't make it back along the ridge we had a walky-talky, we could call up the base any time, so I didn't anticipate any problem. Once the decision was made Charlie swooped in to land lightly in the long grass. He kept the engine running as we off-loaded our stuff, then with a wave he poured on the power. The machine swept away in a great blast of wind, climbing as it turned in the direction of the drill site.

As the helicopter disappeared in the distance we took stock of our gear. Ten days freeze dried food although we only planned to be away for five, water purifying tablets, a small butane stove,  with two cylinders of gas, a hammock each, and the two most important items of all, UV protection and insect repellent. Remarkably little to look at, but with the GPS and radio as back-up, it was all that we would need. Andy was in favor of an immediate start to get as close as possible to our planned landing site before dark. I agreed with him, but Barry wouldn't be hurried, he needed a crap. It's hard to believe that such an ordinary every-day need should so change the outcome of our trip. He headed across to the trees at the side of the clearing, that's when he made the fateful discovery.

"Hey! Fellas, look at this. Over here." We got quite close before we saw what he was talking about, a small hut made of bamboo with a tall conical thatched roof. A very small, low entrance faced the clearing, Barry was on his knees peering into the interior. "Looks like a collection of monkey skulls, all hanging up by the hair. Andy, take a look."

Even before Andy saw inside the hut he looked worried. "They're not monkey skulls," he said. "Those are human."

"No way," said Barry. "They're tiny. And the lips are drawn back from the teeth, those are apes."

"No Barry, the flesh has dried out, shrunk, that makes them look small. Some tribes sew the lips shut, the ones I know do that, to stop the dead cursing their killers. These are the heads of men killed in tribal fighting. This is a taboo place, it's where the tribe carry out all their ceremonies, we've got to get out of here right now."

"You mean this is the place you were telling us about last night? Where they do the initiation?"

"Yes it is, and we've got to go."

"Then the posts they tie the boys to must be somewhere here, and the log as well."

"Yes, somewhere in the grass, they'll be here. It's obviously some time since there was an initiation, but it's still a taboo place. The heads are trophies taken in battle, that's why they keep them here, a place that only men can come to."

"Well now this is something I must see," I said.

"No really, we must go."

"Relax! There's nobody around, if they were anywhere near they would have heard the chopper and been all over this place by now." It didn't take long to find what Barry was looking for. The nearest post was just a few feet away, the rest stretched in a semicircle facing the center of the clearing. And the log was right in front of the posts, in the middle of the open space. Barry and I pulled away the grass and creepers that covered it, and there it was. When we got all the vegetation and rubbish cleared away we were surprised to see that the surface was really smooth, with a waxy sheen, polished by generations of sweating, naked young bodies. It was just as Andy had described it, ten feet long, two feet in diameter, the top of the log had been carved away to make a flattened surface for the boys to lie on. Underneath the end of the log the wood had been cut away and it was possible to see the marks left by ropes. There were similar marks on the two stumps of branches that had been left protruding from the sides of the log about eight feet from the end. Andy had said that the boys were not allowed to make a sound when they were being circumcised, but the rope marks clearly showed that a lot of them had struggled. Another thing that Barry pointed out was the dark stain, right at the end, just where a boy's legs would be spread wide apart. Generations of teenagers must have suffered on this sacrificial altar. Just looking at it made my cock stiffen. Barry was in the same state and Andy was standing with his hands held awkwardly in front of his crotch trying, unsuccessfully, to hide the bulge in the front of his shorts.

"This I have to try," said Barry lying down on the log spreading his legs over the end. "Oh man! Just think of what has happened right here. God, isn't that enough to make you come?" Right then I saw my chance to get some action going.

"You Boy! What do you think you're doing?" Barry looked up at me in surprise. "Thousands of boys have been tortured on that altar. They have struggled, suffered, but not one of them has ever defiled it with clothing. Get off it now, and strip. For this you're going to be punished." Barry took the cue.

"Yes Sir. I'm sorry Sir. I didn't think Sir."

"Too late to apologize. Strip and stand here!" As Barry hastened to obey I glanced across at Andy. His eyes were wide in disbelief, but fixed on Barry's now naked, and very erect, penis.

"Right. Over the altar, you're going to take a beating."

"Yes Sir," Barry said again as he lay over the end of the log, legs wide apart, cock and balls over the end where they were clearly visible to Andy, still watching, a bird hypnotized by a snake. I pulled off my leather belt, folded it in two, then brought it down with force on Barry's bare ass. The result was all that I could have wished for. The thwack as the belt struck firm flesh was made louder as the two layers of leather snapped together. I saw Andy gasp, a look of shock and disbelief on his face. Again I struck, and again, and again until the naked ass was a bright, burning red.

"You boy!" I called to Andy. "Come over here."

"Er... I..." Now he really looked shocked.

"Get over here now. Move!" As Andy came slowly forwards his eyes went back to Barry, the reddened flesh, the testicles hanging loose in the sac. He stood in front of me, his body trembling visibly. I moved his hands away from his crotch, a wet patch spreading where his dick-head was straining at the cotton material. "Don't ever be ashamed because you are aroused by the sight of a naked man. All men, without exception, are fascinated by the sight of other naked men. It doesn't mean you're a homosexual. Barry and I are gay, we're not ashamed of it, we enjoy our sexuality. We play games, exciting games. If you want to you can join us, if you don't want to that's OK. No problem. Just walk away, but now it's time to choose."

He stood there breathing hard, I could see a vein in his wrist pulsing fast, his tongue ran over his dry lips, his mind obviously in turmoil. I knew exactly what was going on in his head, he had fantasized about this situation for years, but this was reality, decision time, and that's very different. I knew I was taking a chance, Barry, still lying on the log, must have had his fingers crossed. If Andy lost his nerve and walked away now we would probably have lost him for good. He stood there in silence, but he didn't move either. We had him!

"It's all right Andy. The boys are treated gently at first, we won't go too fast or too far, not until you are ready." That was enough.

"Tell me. What do I do?"

"For a start you call me Sir! Do you understand?"

"Yes...Sir!"

"I can't hear you," I roared at him.

"Yes Sir!" he said much louder. Now we were on our way.

"First you strip, then go fetch my rucksack from over there. Now move!" His clothes were off in seconds revealing a beautiful firm young body, every bit as good as I had hoped. His chest was totally hairless, waist narrow, buns firm and rounded. At last I got a good look at his genitals. A young virgin penis standing proud and hard, rising fully eight inches from the base in a wreath of light golden hair, the head straining to free itself from the tight foreskin. I saw Barry turn his head to look, saw the appreciation. How could he have resisted, but I lashed at his ass again with the belt that I still held in my hand. Had to keep the session alive or we would both have been reduced to salivating over this lovely body. "I didn't tell you to move," I roared at Barry. Then Andy was off to get the rucksack. I was almost drooling as I watched him moving naked in the sunlight across the open ground.

When he gave me the sack I fished out the bottle of suntan cream, a very high SPF which was essential in this latitude. "Here, spread this on Barry, all over. You understand? ALL over. It's one thing for me to take the skin off with a whip, but I don't want the sun to do it first." Andy poured some of the liquid in the middle of Barry's back then started to spread it across the shoulders and down towards his butt. I saw the hesitation. "I said ALL over. Anything you can see the sun can burn. Yes, in there, further in, that's better. And those balls, they're going to suffer, but I don't want them to burn." At last Barry was getting the benefit of having found this boy and he was relishing it. Andy worked his way right down to the toes, then I whacked Barry's ass again. I saw Andy wince, but his cock jerked appreciatively. "You're turn is coming," I said to Andy. "You'll have a taste of this before long."

"Yes Sir. Thank you Sir." That was good.

Another whack on the reddened ass. "Now turn over. Let him do the front." Andy's face was a picture as he watched Barry roll over. He had never been so close to a naked man before, and this man had a massive erection. "Now spread it all over again. Don't miss his cock head, roll back the foreskin to get at it." When he got down to the penis there was no need to do any rolling back. As soon as Barry felt the inexpert fingers fumbling with his prick the beautiful cock-head blossomed into view. As the cream was smoothed around the mushroom I saw Barry's scrotum tighten up, the balls came up into the firing position. A quick slash of the belt across his tits took his mind off his cock and prevented a premature discharge. "Not yet," I said. "We've got a long way to go before you're going to come."

Barry was now protected from the sun, but Andy was naked too. I took the bottle from him and told him to stand up. I started on his back, neck-line to his heels, every square inch, then told him to turn around. I worked down from his face, it was such a joy, his skin was so smooth, even his beard was only a soft fuzz. Earlier Barry had been in danger of coming, now I was in the same state. As I worked my way down I knelt in front of Andy, the beautiful, strong, young cock was just in front of my open mouth. I couldn't resist. My hands slipped around his hips to grab his buns. As I pulled him forwards he didn't resist, my lips closed around the shrouded head, and I sucked it in, the whole length of the shaft, right down my throat. Just two or three firm sucks and I felt his body stiffen. His hands clasped the back of my head, I felt the spasm, then with a tremendous shudder he came, pure, unadulterated semen. In a moment I felt the guilt. Barry had found the boy, he was still lying there waiting for action, but I had stolen the first drink of nectar. Well I reckoned there would be plenty more to come from those plump and healthy balls. That helped to ease my guilt a bit, but I decided it was time for Barry to have some fun. I quickly finished applying the sun cream to Andy's body then ordered him to do the same to me, but I didn't let him touch my genitals. I would have come for sure, and that would have made me feel truly guilty. Actually I didn't really need much protection, I spend a lot of my free time roaming the high desert in Southern California, always naked, completely free. I have an all-over tan, my balls are the color of walnuts, my cock-head mahogany.

"Now," I said pointing to the end of the log, "Stand there, between Barry's legs." I took Andy's arms around behind his back and secured them with a cord. "Bend over. Go on, down. Take his balls in your mouth. OK, if you can't get them both in take the left one... now suck it hard!"

Andy had eased the testicle into his mouth very carefully. "I said suck it, not fondle it. Now suck you fucker. Suck hard or I'll give him your balls, he always obeys orders." I saw Andy's cheeks working as he pulled hard on the testicle. It was beginning to get to Barry.

"That's better. Now the right one." Andy went after the other ball, not so gentle this time, he was getting the idea. After a couple of minutes of hard sucking I stopped him again.

"Now get them both in. Go on, use your tongue, your teeth, get them in." Andy tried to suck in the left one again, but Barry's balls are big, real big. Several times he almost got them both in, but the second one always got away. His face was all over Barry's crotch as he chased the slippery balls around. I could see the silvery trace left behind on Barry's stomach as the pre-cum dribbled from his cock. Andy tried to kneel down so that he could get at them from a better angle, but I stopped him. I wanted him standing, bent over, ass exposed. Finally I could see that there was no way that Andy was going to succeed so I released his arms.

"OK, use your fingers, shove them in. You don't have to be so careful, they're not eggs, they won't break." Andy finally lost his inhibitions. Once he had forced them into his mouth I tied his hands behind his back again. He waited, bent double, his mouth so full of testicles that his cheeks were bulging.

As reached into the bag of toys that we had brought I looked sideways at Andy, his eyes were locked on the bag. Good, I wanted him to see what was coming. Then I very slowly drew out a cat, a beautiful one, with a mass of plaited leather thongs. His face showed the shock, he knew what I was going to do. That was what I wanted. I moved around behind his back. His eyes followed me as far as they could, but he couldn't turn his head without letting the balls out of his mouth. I waited for at least a minute, an awful long time when you are waiting to be whipped. I just touched the smooth ass with the thongs. The effect was electric, his body jolted, his jaw jerked, snapping his teeth down on Barry's nuts. Beautiful! I waited again until Andy's breathing had calmed down a bit, then touched him again. Same result, I saw the pain in Barry's eyes, he was loving it. Three more touches and the boy was relaxed enough to go further. I drew the whip slowly up over his ass, right up the length of his back to the nape of his neck then slowly down again. He moaned. A couple more strokes and he was ready for the whip.

Flick, flick, flick, I worked the tips of the cat over his buns. No violent reaction. Well Barry's balls were ready too, so I stung the boy lightly. Great, another bite on the balls. I stung again and again, on his back, on his sides, getting harder each time. He took it perfectly, twisting, turning, wrenching on the testicles, clamping down on them each time I struck harder. I started to concentrate on his ass and I got the response I had hoped to see. He shuffled his legs a bit further apart to spread the cheeks that had been protecting his asshole. I went for the little pink rosebud, still tight, virgin. I caught it with the tips of the cat. The muscles in his buns pulled up tight, clamping on the thongs, but only for a moment. Within seconds the muscles relaxed, he leaned a little lower over Barry's crotch, spread his legs a little wider yet. Yes, he was offering it to me. I nipped it with tips again and again, not hard enough to do any damage, just hard enough to keep him biting on the balls. I didn't want the boy's ass to be too raw before Barry took his virginity.

Pretty soon I could tell from the amount of pre-cum that was flowing out of Barry's cock that he couldn't take a lot more without coming. Well there was going to be a lot of cum on this trip, Barry could shoot his first load. I took careful aim and brought the cat stinging down with force. A lot of the thongs spread wide, searing the buns, the center ones bit into the wide open asshole, then went on down to sting the back of the boy's balls. This was too much. He reared up dragging the testicles between his clenched teeth. Barry arched his back as the ball-cords were wrenched from his body, but his reaction wasn't quick enough. He gasped. An instant later the first gob of jism flew from the end of his cock-head. It was a short sharp wrench, all over in a fraction of a second, because the stimulation had stopped almost instantly, there wasn't a full flow. You know how it is when you masturbate, if you stop jerking just as the juice is about to flow your balls do not pump it all out, a lot is saved for later. The scene was like a frozen tableau. Barry collapsed back on the log, Andy motionless, the balls still in his mouth, squinting up at the massive cock dribbling cum.

"Enough!" I said. "Stand up!" Andy looked sideways at me. "Yes of course... let them out of your mouth. Good boy, you see a whip isn't always what it seems is it? You took that well. Time to change places. Time to see what your balls can take." The cum, still lying in gobs on Barry's chest looked tempting. For a moment I thought of allowing Andy to lick it up but realized that would be a mistake. It was one thing for Barry and I to take each other's juice, we had been doing it since we were kids. I knew that we were safe, but Andy couldn't know it. If he was going to get into gay sex he had to do it safely from the start, we must not give him a false sense of security. Besides, it gave me my second load of cum in just a few minutes. Yes, I licked him clean before the jellied semen had time to turn to juice and flow away.

That position had worked well, so I decided to stick with it, this time with Andy's balls in Barry's mouth. I knew that Barry would be longing to get at those fresh young testicles which, after the whipping, would be primed again. Today I was the top, they were bottoms. It would give Andy the feeling that the two of them were in this together, if he felt that he wasn't suffering alone it would make it easier for him to take what was coming. I would continue to play the role of top, but in reality Barry would control how much the boy suffered. In spite of the heat Andy's scrotum had tightened up while he was being secured, it was just nerves, I knew he would get over it, but it would be easier for him to take the pain if his balls were swinging loose.

"Stand here," I said to Barry pointing to the end of the log between the boy's legs. "Right, give me your arms." I secured his arms behind his back, up high, away from his ass. "Now bend over. Take one of those balls in your mouth. One at a time... Take the left one. OK, now start sucking."

As the suction pulled the testicle into Barry's mouth I watched Andy's face. His pulse was racing, he was hot. Barry of course didn't need any prompting on what to do with balls, it was all part of the game. He took the testicle and started to give it the works, long slow pulls whilst flicking at the back of it with his tongue. I saw Andy wince each time Barry pulled a bit harder, but he didn't utter a sound. "Don't fight it! Let them go. You want to be a slave? Well the first thing you have to learn is that a slave must offer his body willingly. Most important of all, he must offer his balls."

While Barry worked on the left testicle I took a whip from the bag. A magnificent one, black oiled leather, soft, supple, with small knot at the tip. "OK, other one now. And spread your legs!" Barry was bent right down from the waist, his legs as wide apart as he could get them. Beautiful sight, no hair, not one, not in his ass, not down the inside of his legs, and of course none on his scrotum. He used a cream, I had tried it, but it brought me out in a rash. I keep my scrotum plucked, much smoother result than shaving, but I can't do my ass that way. I took aim at the brown button and swung. It was a beautiful shot, even though I say so myself. I reckon the knot went right through the sphincter, his hips flexed as it snapped out again. Andy roared. I had caught Barry by surprise and the boy's balls had been jerked hard.

"They coming down?" I asked Barry. He nodded. "OK, get them both in." It took quite a while. I saw them slip in and out between Barry's lips so many times, he was obviously just enjoying them. I kept swinging at the bulls-eye and was pleasantly surprised at how accurate I could be, it must have been the bright sunlight, a well lit target, much easier than in a dimly lit dungeon. I was getting to Barry now. The small brown button was more like a bright red rosebud wedged tightly between his cheeks. Being a good bottom he held absolutely still to give the best possible shot at his hole, but he was grunting with each slash. Andy was suffering too. He arched his back, his head shook from side to side, he gasped, he grunted. Then I saw what I had hoped to see, he lifted his hips up off the log so that Barry could get a better grip on his balls. I knew then that he was going to be a great new slave. "I want to see them pulled down to his knees. Come on, suck you fucker, Suck! Stretch those cords, they have to be stretched." I could see Barry's heavy cock thrusting as he sucked. He wasn't worrying about his asshole, he was fantasizing about the young one that was so close to his mouth, within inches of his tongue. Yes, he would take the boy's virginity, very soon now, that was the way it had to be. At least I would be there when Andy was fucked for the very first time. A very important time for a young man who was just coming to terms with his sexuality. A couple more minutes of this and Andy was  breathing fast, I could see that he was going to come if it went on.

"Stop!" Barry, obedient as always when he was the bottom, let the balls slide out of his mouth. They lay between the boys thighs, soft, pink, wet and shining. A look at Andy told me he was in heaven. No doubt about it, now was time for him to be fucked, while he was in ecstasy, he would hardly feel the pain. I released Barry's arms and fished out a condom from the bag, he said nothing, but nodded in silent agreement. Andy lifted his head as Barry was rolling the condom down the length of his shaft. His eyes opened wide in horror. I was surprised at his reaction, up until this time he had been a very willing bottom, surely he must have realized that we were going to go all the way? I was about to say something to Barry when I realized that Andy was not looking at the dripping penis that was about to plough into his asshole, he was looking past both of us. It was a moment before I turned to follow his eyes. The clearing had half-filled with a ghostly army, tribesmen, their bodies daubed with white clay.

To be continued...

Posted: 09/16/11