Braddock Gets His
by Richard

Jason Braddock III was the proverbial "Big Man On Campus" and only too well aware of it. The 21-year-old, 6' 3" darkly handsome Braddock was the quarterback for his University's football team as well as Pledgemaster of the most prestigious fraternity on campus. Braddock came from a very wealthy family and was used to getting what he wanted.

Braddock openly admired his reflection in the rear-view mirror as he drove his Mercedes 500 SL convertible across campus, checking out his handsome, sunbronzed face with its manly dark beard line with his calculating blue eyes, only to briefly glance down at his form-fitting Ralph Lauren Polo-shirted torso and admire the tufts of dark chest hair sprouting above the collar of his shirt and the way the tight athletic shirt revealed his buff musculature and perfect, pointed man-tits, also taking in his sun-bronzed, dark-hair-flecked muscular forearms as they held the steering wheel.

Yeah, Braddock had it made in the shade. Braddock was fairly intelligent, but he was also very lazy. He maintained a near-perfect grade point average largely because he regularly paid a succession of low-class nerdy guys to write all of his term papers and take copious notes for him, so that Braddock could party all week and still do well in his studies. The senior Braddock fully intended to be accepted in the professional school of his choice, based on his good academic record. His family expected this, since all the Braddocks were professional people and went to the best schools before joining one of the family businesses.

Braddock had recently returned from a summer interning in Washington, D.C. for the ultra-conservative Senator McClean ("Mac") Stetson. Senator Stetson was right-hand-man for that fine American (in Braddock's and Stetson's view), Senator Trent Lott.

Braddock, a confirmed homophobe and gay-basher in his spare time, proudly served under these fine Americans. Braddock admired Senator Stetson's oft-repeated anti-gay views, plus the Senator was a total stud himself- the 6' 4", 35-year-old Stetson was an excellent athlete and former professional football player. The tall, sun-bronzed dirty-blond-haired Stetson turned many a head in Washington and elsewhere. Braddock knew that Stetson was a total lady's man and had had numerous discreet flings with a succession of babes and bimbettes, but Stetson kept his staff sworn to secrecy on this fact, since Stetson portrayed himself as a total conservative "family values" man, often having photo opportunities with his wealthy wife, "Muffy" Atherton Stetson, and their four designer children. Stetson knew how to sow his wild oats without getting caught-so different from those fornicating Democrats, in Braddock's view. Senator Stetson was due for a visit to the University town that week and would undoubtedly look up his former intern, the studly Jason Braddock III.

Braddock was a proud member of the Coalition of Conservatives for the Utmost Preservation of Morality. It was unfortunate that the liberal media had dubbed their organization "COC-UP" and "COCK-UPPEM," much like that field day they had when Senator Trent Lott was accused of shoplifting. Why couldn't the liberal media accept his complete defense that it was just temporary kleptomania brought on by the pressures of battling the liberal element??

Basically, the Coalition of Conservatives for the Utmost Preservation of Morality was devoted to exposing liberal Democrats' sexual affairs and kinky pursuits, while portraying themselves as the defenders of morality. Naturally, the organization was incensed at the notion of similar organizations being created to check on the sexual mores of their Republican colleagues, such as the efforts of that low-class slob, Larry Flynt. The nerve of some people!!

Braddock had been instrumental last summer in helping bring about the downfall of a long-time liberal Democratic Senator who was videotaped in a sexual romp with two bimbettes. Braddock had helped hire the bimbettes to entrap the Senator and set up the videotaping of it at the Hay-Adams Hotel directly across from the White House. Those views of the White House through the windows of the Hay-Adams suite were a nice touch, Braddock thought. That less-than-subtle hint that the present occupant of the White House had brought on a decline in moral values was brilliant. Even some of the liberal media had to admit the irony. (although the full extent of the irony and hypocrisy was definitely lost on self-styled twat-tamers Braddock and the cheating Stetson, et al.)

Braddock sighed with pleasure at the recall of this "triumph," as well as the fact that he fully expected to get laid later that night by his lay-of-the-moment, Kimberly Reynolds, the well-to-do sorority babe/cheerleader who was the daughter of an industrial magnate. Braddock had been balling the high-spirited Kimberly's brains out for the past few weeks- she was surprisingly frisky for one of those normally uptight sorority babes.

Braddock pulled his Mercedes into its special reserved slot at the University gym, and the hunky quarterback proceeded to have a vigorous, sweaty workout. Braddock went to shower afterwards, but noted some obvious faggot drooling over him, so he instead changed back into the clothes he arrived in; he could shower later at the frat house before his date with Kimberly.

All Braddock had to do today was pay off that fuckin' fag, Scott Wheeler, the 20-year-old Junior who had been researching and writing first-class term papers for the cocky Braddock. Braddock really needed the term paper in question- it was due tomorrow, and the grade he received could well be the determining factor in Braddock's getting admitted to Stanford Business School.

Braddock detested Scott whom he knew was "a fuckin' fag" by reputation. Jason always made it clear that the term papers were strictly a business proposition and that he could not stand fuckin' fags, that Scott was lucky Braddock didn't beat the shit out of him, it was just that Braddock needed those papers and it did not make good business sense to harm his supplier. (although Jason had some plans for after Stanford accepted him-then he and his buds would show what happens to a fuckin' cocksuckin' fag!)

Scott lived alone off campus in a rented cottage about 5 miles from campus in a remote wooded area. Braddock couldn't understand why the weird-o wanted to live in such a remote area. Although it was fairly close to campus, the place was all off by itself. It even made the studly Braddock feel a little weird-being stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a creepy "nerdy" fag-Shit! It made Braddock's sensitive skin crawl at the thought of it.

Truth be told, Scott Wheeler was no classic "nerd". The 6-foot blond-haired Scott worked out regularly and had a sun-bronzed, well-defined body. It just so happened that Scott was unusually gifted academically and knew just the type of term paper and its content that would make the professors sit up and take notice (and they did). Scott had a reputation for churning out first-rate newly minted term papers, which were unlike the recycled term papers others sold and which usually were spotted by ever-vigilant professors. Scott dressed well as well-no sign of a pen-filled nerdy pocket protector in sight!

Scott opened his door that sultry night to greet the sweaty, brash Jason Braddock III who loudly announced that he would be late for his date with Kimberly unless Scott "shut the fuck up" and handed over his term paper, pronto! Braddock tossed two $100 bills at Scott and laughed as the "little shit" had to bend over and retrieve the currency off the floor.

Braddock loudly demanded that Scott produce the paper right away. Scott, secretly pissed but not showing it, told the arrogant Braddock that had had just finished the paper, headed toward the cottage's bedroom with Braddock in hot pursuit. Once Scott retrieved it out of the computer in the bedroom, Scott waved the floppy computer disk he had it on in front of Braddock. Scott told a flabbergasted Braddock that the research for his paper had taken additional time, and that the price, given the agreed hourly rate, came to $500 this time.

Braddock started yelling at Scott and shook him by the scruff of the neck, dragging Scott around his bedroom, announcing that Braddock didn't have that much cash with him, that Scott knew Braddock was good for the extra cash and lied that he would get it to Scott, er, "tomorrow."

No dummy, Scott refused and demanded the extra cash or no disk/no printout of the term paper. The disk was encoded with a secret password, so grabbing the disk would be of no use. Braddock threatened to "beat the shit out of" Scott anyway, and advanced to do so, only for Scott to announce that he thought Braddock might react violently like this, but that the "big shithead" should think long and hard before doing so-remember, um, Stanford Business School, hello?, like, duh, what did Braddock think would happen when they found out about it, hmm? Did Braddock think they would consider it a plus when Braddock was convicted of battery, one which could be elevated to a more serious crime for being an obvious hate crime, hmm?

Incandescently furious and seething with anger, his patrician nostrils flaring and puffing like an angry bull's, Braddock realized the little shit was right, which only made him more ballistic! The little cocksuckin' slimeball fucker had the great Jason Braddock III by his quarterback bull-balls! How dare the little low-class shit pull a stunt like this on the high-and-mighty Jason Braddock III?? "Dammit, you fucker, you know my old man's up to his fuckin' ears in dough, the extra measly $300 is no fuckin' problem, I just can't give it to ya tonight, OK??"

"No way, Braddock! It's either the $300 cash, now, or you go home empty handed, dude!"

Braddock started to sweat even more now. He was fuckin' almost soaked in sweat from the heat and from his recent workout, and now he finds out that this little fag is going to withhold his goddamned term paper at the last fuckin' minute!! Un-fuckin'-believable!!! And with the Stanford admissions committee waiting for his grade, his parents expecting perfection, and here he was suddenly up shit creek without a paddle. Although that reminded Braddock that he had his frat paddle in the trunk of the Mercedes, the better to use on the little shit. To that end, Braddock temporarily departed, to check if he had any more cash or a check in his gym bag in the car (naw the little shit won't take a check, though Braddock) and to get the frat paddle.

Braddock returned to truthfully announce that he just couldn't find any more cash in his car, but, dropping the gym bag on the floor of the bedroom and tapping the frat paddle ominously onto one of his big, sun-bronzed muscular hands, also again threatened Scott with physical violence, this time with the frat paddle, but Scott just laughed that off, again threatening Braddock that he would never get into Stanford if he harmed him. Braddock was left without any options for the first time in his life-his money and his hypermacho strutting, bullying strength had never failed him before! What the fuck was he gonna fuckin' do??

To Braddock's relief, Scott seemed to be throwing him a lifeline. Scott coyly announced that "hmm, maybe there was another way this can be resolved. Let me see."

Scott enjoyed Braddock's puppy-like enthusiasm for this new tack. Braddock was now willing to do anything that would get him that fucking computer disk, and didn't Scott just know that.

"What? What? C'mon faggot I haven't got all night! C'mon, Kimberly's waiting for me, you fucker! C'mon, hurry, how can this be 'resolved'?"

"Well, I just might be willing to accept another form of payment in lieu of cash," replied Scott.

What? Whattaya mean? C'mon, you'll take a check, credit card, what? You know I've got both, plenty of ways for a Braddock to pay the piper, you fuckin' poor-ass faggot!"

"Er, no, Jason, I wasn't thinking of a check or a credit card. I had something else in mind. A form of payment that requires physical effort only."

Braddock derisively laughed out loud: "Physical effort? What the fuck do you mean? You little fag, you mean you need a big strong man to lift your furniture or something? Braddocks don't do physical labor, you idiot, I mean what are the servant and laboring classes for, except to serve their betters such as the Braddocks? C'mon I can hire a wetback or someone to do the heavy lifting for you, you candy-assed faggot."

"No, it wasn't exactly 'heavy-lifting' I had in mind for you, although, in a manner of speaking, it hopefully will involve that, in a way. You see, what I have in mind for payment is watching you play with your own heavy equipment and then you're letting me suck your big cock, Braddock. Is that too big a price to pay?"

"You goddamned, fuckin' slimeball faggot! How dare even suggest such a vile, disgusting thing, you fuckin' degenerate!! No fuckin' way!! In your faggot dreams, pal!!!" replied Braddock, heading for the door pronto.

"I wouldn't take off now if I were you, Braddock! That paper's due tomorrow, remember? And, um, Stanford is interested in the results, I believe, hmmm??"

Scott was privately amused in that Scott's lover, Mike Mancini, was secretly videotaping all of this from a camera discreetly set up in an adjacent closet.

After further streams of curses, fist-shaking and impotent threats, Braddock again realized that he was left without any viable options. Braddock decided he had no choice but to let the slimy fag give him a fuckin' BJ, get the disk with its password, and leave.

"OK, OK, Wheeler, I haven't got time for these games. If, and I mean if I decide to let you suck my cock, this goes no further than these walls, OK? Don't you go bragging all over campus that you swung on my pussy-taming horsecock, OK? I mean a guy's got his reputation to think about! OK, goddamnit, before I have to think any more about it , OK, I'll let ya- a BJ in exchange for the disk and password, a deal-now, Wheeler, crawl over and unzip my fuckin sweaty jeans with your fuckin teeth, asshole!"

Scott told Braddock, "No way, asshole! A deal's a deal. I said you'd have to jerk on your heavy equipment for me for awhile, and then I'd give you a blowjob. So, c'mon, Braddock, strip off all your clothes and lie down on the bed..."

"What the fuck??!!! NO FUCKIN' WAY YOU PERVERT!!! There's no way I'm dropping my drawers and playing with myself for the amusement of some slimeball little faggot!! In your dreams, faggot!!" replied Braddock.

"Then I guess I can just go over to the computer and erase this disk, eh? OK by me..." said Scott as he walked towards his computer to do so.

"NO!!! Stop!!! Don't!!! OK, you asshole you'll die for this later, I swear, but, OK I got no choice, you asshole. OK, OK, I'll fuckin' strip. That make you happy you fuckin' sick-o??"

"Yeah it does, Braddock! You really want, really need, this little piece of plastic don't cha?? You'd do anything for it. Wouldn't you?" replied Scott, cackling evilly at Braddock's impotent fury.

No, not "anything" you fucker, just a little jerkin' by me and a little suckin' by you, that's all. Got it?"

"Got it," replied Scott. (Yeah, Scott was going to see that Braddock "got it" and but good).

"NOW STRIP!! GET OUTTA THOSE FUCKIN' FANCY-ASS CLOTHES NOW!! YOU'RE MINE TONIGHT, BRADDOCK!!!" crowed Scott.

Totally humiliated, Jason Braddock III, the Big Man On Campus, the quarterback of the University football team and the stuff that every sorority slut and hunky guy's dreams were made of, was left with no options but to begin to slowly strip off his sweaty clothes, peeling his sweat-stained white Ralph Lauren Polo shirt over his head to reveal his sun-bronzed muscular torso, with a lawn of jet-black body hair fanning out over Braddock's chest, over his perfect pointed man-tits and then growing in a line down to his navel before disappearing into his blue jeans.

"Drop the pants, asshole, c'mon give me a show!" Scott told the fuming Braddock.

Braddock reluctantly popped the button of his blue jeans, unzipped and yanked down his blue jeans over his sun-bronzed, darkly-haired legs, kicked off his size 12 athletic shoes and socks.

Scott ordered Braddock to toss him the discarded Polo shirt and blue jeans, which Scott then tossed on the floor in front of Scott. Braddock was left clad in only his packed white Calvin Klein shorts, his big beefy, sun-bronzed hands modestly clasped over his privates, blushing with anger and humiliation.

"Drop the Calvins, Braddock, c'mon the final unveiling!!" laughed Scott, enjoying Braddock's impotent anger and embarrassment.

With a resigned sigh, Jason peeled down his Calvins, revealing his lush pubic bush of tight-jet-black curls, and his huge cock and hairy bull balls, then pulled them down off his hairy ankles and kicked them in Scott's direction, then promptly re-clasped his beefy hands over his equally beefy privates. Scott ordered Braddock to stand with his hands on his head, revealing the depths of Braddock's hairy, sweaty armpits, while Scott took a hit of Braddock's sweat-soaked underwear, relishing the musky scent, to Braddock's utter revulsion and disbelief.

Scott then swept up all of Braddock's discarded clothes and pointedly took them to his filing cabinet, tossed them in, locked the cabinet with a key, and announced that Braddock would get them back if Braddock was a "good boy" and earned his clothes back!

"What the fuck! You little fuckin' pansy. Don't worry, you damn will give me my clothes back, you little fucker!"

"All in good time, my little pet. All in good time," replied Scott deliberately maddeningly, in the tone of Margaret Hamilton's Wicked Witch in "The Wizard Of Oz".

Scott then ordered the now naked Braddock to turn around, bend over, and spread his hunky asscheeks for him! Totally ballistic, Braddock adamantly refused to do any such thing till Scott pointedly waved the damn disk at him, and he was forced to comply, turning around revealing his snow white lightly hair-flecked assglobes, which were in total contrast to the rest of his hunky sun-bronzed body, bend over and spread his darkly-furred asscrack to reveal his hair-haloed virgin asshole to Scott's leering view (and, unbeknownst to Braddock, in front of Scott's ogling lover Mike, and through the video camera, in front of the entire world). "Yeah, well eat your fuckin' heart out, fag-boy, you can look, asshole, but you can't fuckin' touch!" spat out Braddock, referring to Braddock's most private orifice, and wishing he had the nerve to cut a big stinking fart right in Scott's face.

Scott next ordered Braddock onto the bed, enjoying the view of the hunky, hairy dude sprawled across the top of his bed from the top of his head to the tips of the toes of his bare, size 12 feet, and ordered him to "OK, now, Braddock, show me how the straight, hunky Big Man On Campus, Pledgemaster, U.S. Senate intern, and quarterback of the football team gets his rocks off! Go on! Get your dick hard for me! C'mon, show me, you can still get it up, can't you, dude?"

Furious, and out to prove the efficacy of his sex machine, Jason Braddock III was forced to fuckin' jerk on his big meat in front of the leering Scott, Mike, and the entire world.

"C'mon, Braddock, work that meat for me, yeah, do it, yeah, that's right dude, play with those big, hairy bull balls for me, yeah ride with it stud, feels good, huh? Yeah you like that don't ya? Put on a show for me, yeah!!"

"Yeah, Braddock, c'mon, I overheard Kimberly telling her friends at the gym the other day how you like to have your man-tits played with, yeah, c'mon, reach up there and tweak those hair-haloed suckers, yeah, that's right, Kimberly says it's like an electric highway right from your tits to your big bull-balls, dude, yeah, c'mon, you know you like it yeah show me how hot you are, dude," as Braddock did as instructed, causing his big bull balls to begin riding up closer as he got hotter and hotter for Scott (and, unknowingly, for the camera), doing little figure-8's with his humpy ass, his tongue hanging out as he bounced on the bed in rising lust. Scott ordered Braddock to trail a finger down under his balls and toward his hairy virgin asshole, which he did do, but refused to go further, Braddock haughtily informing Scott that there was "no way" he was going to get Braddock to finger his fuckin' shithole, disk or no disk!

Fearing that Braddock was getting too close to an orgasm, Scott ordered him to stop and announced that he would now give Braddock a blowjob. Braddock said "OK, but remember, just a fuckin' blowjob, keep your fuckin' hands behind your back, no queering me, you fuckin faggot, just suck my big meat, yeah let me blast my nuts, I get the disk and still time to make it to Kimberly's, just hurry the fuck up!"

Scott crawled up, still fully clothed at Braddock's adamant insistence, onto the bed with Braddock, who warily eyed him as he reached for Braddock's big cock and began expertly deep-throating the dude's horny pecker, eventually managing to insinuate a finger to tease Braddock's hairy bull-balls, bringing the increasingly out-of-it Braddock closer and closer to orgasm.

As Scott expertly sucked Braddock's big cock taking all of it to the balls (something Kimberly and other chicks who'd sucked him had never been able to do) Braddock unconsciously threw his big muscular sun-bronzed arms into the air and then way behind his head, again revealing the sweaty depths of his incredibly hairy, soupy, undeodorized armpits, throwing himself into the fast-approaching ecstasy of a satisfying orgasm, Braddock scrunging his eyes shut as his handsome face contorted with the beginning stages of a soon-to-burst orgasm.

Scott noted Braddock's shut eyes and flung back arms, and bravely seized the moment to snatch a pair of handcuffs which he had hidden near the brass headboard under the sheets and suddenly click them over both of Braddock's wrists, only to click them to the brass headboard, immobilizing the prone, naked stud!

Braddock's eyes flew open at the sound of the metallic "click" of the handcuffs and once the feel of the cold metal cuffs finally reached his orgasm-focused brain. "What the fuck!!?? What is this shit, you fuckin' fag? Let me go you asshole! C'mon! You fuckin' tricked me, you scumbag!" as Braddock thrashed wildly in his bondage, sweat flying everywhere, Braddock's sun-bronzed muscular arms straining and pulling at the cuffs to no avail, making Braddock's hunky musculature reveal itself to its fullest extent as he struggled wildly to get away from "the faggot", his sun-bronzed hairy legs futilely kicking and straining as well.

Scott managed to rope down Braddock's thrashing legs, tying both ankles to the bedposts, so that the hunky Jason Braddock III was now tightly spread-eagled and completely vulnerable, his half-hard cock still unsatisfied.

Scott then announced to Braddock that he had overheard Kimberly tell her girlfriends at the gym that she had found out that besides liking to have his man-tits played with during lovemaking, he was extremely ticklish "all over" and had surprisingly sensitive skin. Kimberly had told her girlfriends that if "Jason-baby" got out of line, the mere threat of her tickling him anywhere was enough to scare the shit out of him!

Scott therefore approached the bareassed, bound, bully-boy Braddock, dangling the metal keys to the handcuffs right over Braddock's heaving, huffing and puffing chest. Despite futile protests from Braddock that of course he wasn't ticklish, that that was just Kimberly "probably joking around with her girlfriends", Braddock's eyes widened in fear as Scott

teased Braddock by saying, "Ya want me to set ya free, do ya? 'Jason-baby', huh? Do ya? Ya want me to use these handcuff keys to free ya, don't ya? Cuz 'Jason-baby's' all tied up, isn't he? Gee, 'Jason-baby's" entire body is completely, utterly naked and vulnerable, isn't it? Why Scott could just trail these keys at will anywhere he wanted, now couldn't he, hmmmm???"

Scott then proceeded to trail the cold metallic keys as well as the plastic and metal computer disk over Braddock's hunky body, first just letting the keys and disk hover over Braddock's hunky body, then hovering the handcuff keys over his right hair-haloed man-tit without actually letting them touch it, causing Braddock to practically cross his baby blues concentrating on watching with dread as the keys made their teasing descent, until finally "contact" as the cold metallic keys teased and tickled Braddock's right man-tit. Braddock gasped in shocked surprise despite the warning his body had received, his man tit pointing up even further in erect response to the sadistic teasing of his ultrasensitive man-tit as sexual electricity raced through his body from the tip of his hunky tit to the base of his horny bull-balls, his huge pecker throbbing in response without even being touched. Scott simultaneously used the computer disk to tease Braddock's hairy chest, laughing about how Braddock really needed that didn't he???

Scott next trailed the teasing metallic keys over to Braddock's left man-tit, teasing it with the keys as his lithe fingers tweaked, strummed and pulled on Braddock's right man-tit, causing Braddock to squeal, gasp, thrash, curse, and tug wildly at his bonds to no avail.

Then Scott suddenly stripped off all his own clothes and straddled the shocked, cursing Braddock's hunky, hair-trailed six-pack abdominals as he trailed the keys up along Braddock's hunky, hairy collarbone, only to teasingly descend into the ripe, soupy confines of Braddock's incredibly hairy, totally and helplessly exposed left armpit, the cold keys teasing and tickling the ticklish quarterback's underarm as he squealed, screamed, begged Scoot to "STOPPP!! OH MY GOD!!!!! OH, NOOOOOO!!! STOP!!! NO NOT THERE!!! I CAN'T FUCKIN TAKE IT!!! TIME OUT!!!! NOOOO!!!! HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!!! OH FUCKK!!! DAMNNNNN!!! NOOOOO!!!! as bully-boy Braddock did his version of the Republican lambada all over the bed, wildly thrashing and giving Scott the ride of his life, Scott relishing the feel of his own naked ass and hairy legs as they slid around on Braddock's naked, sweaty body, relishing the feel of Braddock's wiry body hair as the homophobic quarterback/Pledgemaster's body rubbed helplessly against Scott's own naked body, Scott's own hard cock happily nestled and rubbing on the firm-hairy confines of Braddock's six-pack abdominals and/or his luxuriant chest hair. Scott especially liked the fact that his own ass kept sliding down the sweaty Braddock's body (although Scott helped the positioning on purpose as well) so that Scott's own sweaty hairy asscrack was sliding along and over Braddock's now totally erect cock, letting Braddock's big cock slide through his hairy asscrack and unwittingly goose his hole, accompanied by Braddock's curses and orders to "stop doing that you fuckin' fag!!!" as the mortified Braddock realized that his mercenary twat-taming cock was getting off on being stimulated by a "fuckin' faggot gay-boy's" hairy asscrack! Scott "rubbed this in" literally and figuratively, humiliating the kick-ass hyper-hetero stud that "yeah, Braddock, looks like your pile-driving pussy-tamer likes my cute, tight little bubble butt, doesn't it? Yeah I can feel that hot, hard rod sliding through my crack, teasing my sweaty hole, you like that don't cha? Huh? Huh?" to Braddock's undying humiliation and protests that "Aw, I musta been thinking about banging Kimberly that's all! Now quit doing that, you fucking fag!"

Braddock was unable to protest any longer after that since he could not get enough breath to squeak out even semi-complete sentences, because Scott next proceeded to dangle the cold handcuff keys into Braddock's left armpit again while simultaneously using Scott's strong fingers to delve into Braddock's exposed right armpit, yanking on the profuse, sweaty hairs that grew in the hopelessly exposed confines of the young homophobic Republican's soupy armpit, Braddock helpless to do anything but squeal, scream, thrash, and beg for mercy, his hard cock flopping around wildly due to his crazed struggles, his cock slapping the cheeks of Scott's ass only to slide down his sweaty crack again.

Scott wiped Braddock's own soupy-smelling hunky quarterback/Pledgemaster armpit-sweat all over his patrician nose and lips and made him lick his own armpit sweat off of Scott's fingers, Scott also letting the hairs he had unceremoniously yanked out of the heaving stud's hairy armpits and chest sprinkle over Braddock's humiliated face.

Scott then tossed the handcuff keys onto the bed and concentrated instead on using his talented icy fingers to suddenly rake down from Braddock's hairy armpits to Braddock's erect man tits, then suddenly down his sides and ribs, counting each rib and tickling it in turn on both sides of Braddock's heaving, screaming, nearly delirious body, Scott again getting the ride of his life from Braddock's violent thrashing and enjoying the feel of Braddock's rock-hard cock flopping and slapping around helplessly.

Scott's lover Mike was tired of being left out of the festivities and suddenly appeared "out of the closet" as it were, to Braddock's utter astonishment and humiliation, Mike producing the whirring video camera that had been recording the entire session. Braddock ordered them to "turn that goddamned thing off! I'm naked for God's sake! C'mon, no!!!"

Worse, Mike too began to strip off all of his clothes, to Braddock's total mortification! (Not two at once, NOOOOO!)

While Scott continued to straddle Braddock's hunky midsection, Braddock missed the wink between Scott and Mike as Mike devilishly produced two tapering feathers and crept down to the foot of the bed. Then, while Scott renewed his tickle torture of Braddock's hunky upper body and sides and ribs, Mike suddenly re-tied each of Braddock's hunky, hairy sun-bronzed legs together, tying his big toes to each other as well and then began to simultaneously trial the two feathers against the soles of each of Braddock's sweaty, smelly size 12 feet, alternately teasing tickling them, then scratching and prodding them with toothpicks or a toothbrush, only to then renew the feather torture. Mike also alternated by licking and sucking each of Braddock's helplessly exposed feet, sucking each of his toes like little cocks and sliding his taster all down the sole, arch and heels of Braddock's magnificent feet.

Braddock became a basket case at this point, screeching, screaming, thrashing and cursing to no avail, begging them to stop. "NOOOOO!!! STOPPPPP!!! NOT TWO AT ONCE!!!! NO, NOT MY FEET, PLEASE NOT MY FEET, TOO! OH MY GODDDD!!! NOOOO, NOT MY RIBS, PITS, TITS, AND FEET AT THE SAME TIME!!! NO!!! STOPP!! PUH-LEEZE!!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING!!!! NO! STOP!!! C'MON!!!! GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHEEHEHEHEHEEEEEE-AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! STOPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!

Scott and Mike nevertheless kept up the tickle torture at full speed despite Braddock's amusing antics. Braddock was covered in sweat, looked utterly disoriented and defeated, as all of his erogenous zones were delved into against his will, his ultrasensitive skin crawling all the while, with his bad-boy boner in a perpetual state of rock-hard horniness.

Then , to Braddock's premature relief, Scott and Mike suddenly stopped. Scott got up off of Braddock and Scott and Mike simply stood staring down at the mewling, pathetic Braddock, taking turns hovering a finger, a feather, a tooth pick or a toothbrush directly over Braddock's most sensitive spots found to date, only to never actually touch him, laughing at Braddock's hysterical jumpings and twitchings as he tried to avoid contact with any of the maddening objects of tickle torture.

Scott and Mike then knelt on opposite sides of the bed and proceeded to lightly blow their hot breath over Braddock's exposed armpits, hairy man tits, his sides, his ribs, his hair-haloed navel (this they couldn't resist also delving into with their fingers causing Braddock to scream and arch his back off the bed in excruciating tickle mania. Scott and Mike then concentrated on blowing their hot breath right over Braddock's still rock-hard cock and hairy balls, causing it to lurch and sway and throb of its own accord without actually being touched. Scott and Mike kept this up for several minutes until Braddock was begging them to "stop teasing him, that he needed to get his rocks off now-that Scott promised him a blow job-now finish him off, goddammit!"

Mike responded by teasingly asking "Is this what you want big-boy? You want us to tickle or jerk on your big bad-boy boner?? You want these two "fags" to do that for ya?? Need to get off, huh?? Need a little help, tho, pal?? Hmmm???"

"YES GODDAMMIT!!! I WANT TO GET OFF NOW!!! I am fuckin' giving you fags permission to finish me off, give me my computer disk and get the hell out of here!!"

Scott and Mike instead simply kept up blowing their hot breath teasingly onto Braddock's throbbing privates, laughing at his predicament all the while to Braddock's utter humiliation.

Mike then began to repeatedly tickle Braddock's rock-hard cock, while Scott tickled Braddock's bad-boy bull-balls, again and again bringing Braddock toward a climax only to back off at the last minute and laugh while Braddock's boner subsided a bit, then they repeated this over and over again until the blue-balled aristocrat was begging to cum, to no avail. Braddock kept saying "Yeah here it comes, you fuckin faggots, any time now, yeahh I'm fuckin' gonna blast my big nuts, yeah, that's what you fag-boys want, isn't it? Yeah, uh-huh-uh-huh-uh-huh..." only for Scott and Mike to again back off and laugh at the bound stud.

Scott and Mike ignored Braddock's pleas to be allowed to cum and instead suddenly narrowed their eyes and scrutinized the area beneath Braddock's drawn-up-from-excitement bull-balls.

Scott mockingly asked Mike, "Hmm, look down there, Mike, I think our horny captive needs attention to the one area of his body we missed so far. Look, Mike, he's all sweaty down there (Scott trailing a finger under Braddock's bad-boy bull balls to come back up glistening with Braddock's ball and asscrack sweat for Mike's comical scrutiny. That' right, Mike, since you tied his feet together down there, 'Jason-baby's' asscrack is, like, all hidden and sweaty. I'm sure 'Jason-baby' wants that area aired out but good, don't you??" Braddock's response was more cursing and swearing, but despite his protests, Scott and Mike soon had re-tied Braddock's hunky sun-bronzed hairy legs high over his head to the brass headboard, so that Jason Braddock III's bare bad-boy ass was high in the air, his sweaty, jet-black furred asscrack totally spread wide for the entire world to see via the video camera, and his hair-haloed normally scrupulously guarded virgin asshole winking pinkly for all to see!

Scott and Mike loved the sight of Braddock's exposed, lightly hair-flecked assglobes, totally pinkish-white in contrast to the rest of Braddock's hunky sun-bronzed body. Scott and Mike began blowing their hot breath onto Braddock's exposed asscrack and hairy virgin asshole, again blowing on Braddock's humongous bad-boy boner and cum-churning hairy balls, driving the quarterback/Pledgemaster up the wall with unbidden passion. Mike and Scott then grabbed the handcuff keys and computer disk off the bed, first trailing the cold metal keys down Braddock's furry asscrack, catching and pulling on some of the hairs which grew profusely there, only to tickle the cold metal keys directly over his hopelessly spread-wide-open hair-haloed virgin asshole. The keys were then used to tickle Braddock's bad-boy bull balls and throbbing cock, before the computer disk made a similar journey down Braddock's asscrack to his balls and cock, Scott and Mike laughing and teasing Braddock "Yeah you want that fuckin' disk don't ya 'Jason-baby' huh, don't cha?? Yeah, you can feel that sucker goosing your bad-boy hole, can't ya, huh? Yeah, and you want it so bad!!! Well, 'Jason-baby' you're gonna have to work for it gotta earn it for once in your life-it's not coming to ya on a fuckin' silver platter this time!! Nah! Just on a crummy little plastic disk-but that's what you need, eh, Braddock? You're gonna be a good boy now aren't you?"

The defiant Braddock erupted in another string of curses and threats to the "fuckin' faggots!" and "orders" to "stop that shit" fell on deaf ears.

Scott and Mike then proceeded to each tickle Braddock's exposed bad-boy buttcheeks working feathers and toothbrushes all over the lightly-hair-flecked globes till they joined together at the top of Braddock's hopelessly exposed fur-lined buttcrack. Scott and Mike then slid their feathers and toothbrushes down Braddock's sweaty, musky, exposed asscrack working their way ever so slowly down to join over Braddock's bad-boy hair-haloed butthole, tickling the quarterback/Pledgemaster's virgin shitter until Braddock was ooooing and ahhhing against his will. Braddock couldn't believe it when they actually wormed their feathers right inside his butch hole; the out-of-it Braddock was so turned on he actually relaxed his manly butthole as it took on a life of its own, traitorously opening up and asking for "more!" Braddock involuntarily humping and wriggling his hot butt right onto the incredibly exciting invading feathers. Scott and Mike punctuated this pleasure with sharp resounding slaps of Braddock's bad-boy buttcheeks, leaving pink, then red-hot, handprints all over the big bully's upturned butt.

Scott and Mike then retrieved Braddock's own frat paddle (which he had brought in from his car to use on Scott) and proceeded to spank the arrogant, snobby Pledgemaster with his own frat paddle until his upturned exposed ass was fire-engine red and burning and Braddock was begging for mercy, as a burning brushfire erupted all over his flaming bad-boy backside. Scott rubbed it in, saying "If only your fraternity frosh pledges could see their Senior Pledgemaster now!! Maybe I will send a courtesy copy of the video to them!" to Braddock's abject humiliation.

Scott and Mike then rejoiced in again and again bringing the arrogant stud to the brink of orgasm only to again deny Braddock any sexual relief despite his abject pleas to be allowed to cum.

At this point something surprising happened. Braddock's cell phone began ringing in his gym bag.

Scott hopped up and answered the cell phone. It was that Neanderthal, homophobic Republican Senator Stetson, asking for his former intern, Braddock. Scott told the Senator that Braddock was there, "although he is a little tied up at the moment," (wink at Mike) but that he would be with the Senator presently. Scott then put the Senator on "hold" while Mike and Scott threatened to tickle torture and/or cut off Braddock's balls with a handy sharp scissors they clicked ominously near Braddock's pent-up bull balls if Braddock so much as breathed a word about what was going on, but told Braddock that if he was a "good boy" and convinced the Senator to drop by and take Braddock's place, that he could have his computer disk and be on his way.

Looking for any way out of his predicament and fully willing to let the pompous Senator take his place, Braddock gave an Academy-Award caliber performance, telling Senator Stetson the address and directions to Scott's cottage, lying that it was Braddock's off-campus "love-nest". Braddock told Stetson that he was there alone with two hot sorority babes and the sluts had been revved up by Braddock's expert ministrations and were now

hot to trot. Braddock told Stetson to have the limo driver drop him off at the cottage, that Stetson could get a ride back to town in Braddock's Mercedes parked outside. Stetson said he'd be there within 15 minutes, giving a lecherous chuckle, Senator Stetson spreading his legs wider in the back of the dark limo and giving his own .instantly rising cock a squeeze through his elegant tuxedo pants

After the cell phone was replaced into Braddock's gym bag Braddock began to arrogantly demand to be released, that he had kept his part of the bargain. Scott told him to "shut the fuck up" promptly slapping some duct tape right over Braddock's mouth to silence him to mere protesting gurgles which were nearly inaudible. Scott told Braddock "so we lied, asshole!" "Your fun's not over yet-you haven't earned the computer disk!" to Braddock's utter horror and outrage.

Scott and Mike got back into clothes and each pulled a knit ski mask over their faces. They closed the door to the bedroom and switched off the light, leaving Braddock in the darkness gurgling softly into the duct tape.

They then turned on the porch light and pasted a big sign on the unlocked front door of the cottage saying "WALK RIGHT IN, MAC, YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED!-JASON".

They then waited for Senator Stetson's limo to arrive in the separate, also darkened living room area of the cottage. Scott and Mike listened for the limo in the darkness from the front window that had been opened due to the night's heat. They soon saw and heard the limo pull up.

To their surprise and initial horror they saw that the limo was accompanied by a fully uniformed motorcycle police officer escorting the limo on his motorcycle!

They watched dumbstruck as the tuxedoed 6'4" Senator Stetson exited the limo and went over to speak to the uniformed motorcycle officer. They couldn't hear what was said at that distance.

The next thing they knew, Stetson had waved off the limo driver who sped away, but then Stetson began to climb the steps up to the cottage as the motorcycle cop whirred his motorcycle up on the driveway past Jason's Mercedes, dismounted and placed his motorcycle behind the cover of some bushes. Senator Stetson joined the uniformed officer on the lawn leading up to the front door. The front door itself with the note on it was not visible from the point where the duo was standing, right under the open window.

Scott and Mike saw Stetson light a cigarette and offer one to the cop. From what they could see in the strong light from the porch, the cop was in his mid- to late-20's and a 6' 3" recruiting poster come to life, with his handsome sun-bronzed face, muscular build, darkly haired muscular forearms, neatly trimmed dark mustache and sexy dark eyes, now cradling his white police helmet in one arm before affixing it to the rear of his cycle.

They then overheard Stetson say to the cop "Jason's just getting the babes revved up for us now. Plenty of time. The night is young." "As I was saying, Officer Napolitano," "Call me Tony, Senator" interjected the cop, "Er, Tony, and, yeah you may call me Mac, by the way" (said in a tone that implied that this was, indeed a great honor) "As I was saying, Tony, my young friend Jason was one of my interns in Washington this summer. I'm sure he won't mind sharing these hot sorority sluts with both of us-I think he said there were 2 or 3 of the babes anyway. You can't be too careful about this sort of thing what with the climate in Washington these days. I'd feel much better knowing I have the long arm of the law protecting me at all times. It seems some of these goddamned Democrats and this Larry Flynt creature is out to spoil the fun for us red-blooded American Republicans. Goddamned spies. None of their business! Now I know you may not be a member of the Party, being, a member of the, er,(sneer) lowly 'working class', but I think we established at the airport that you have our country's best interests at heart?"

"Oh, yeah, Mac, (Stetson winced at the familiarity from this working class creature) ya mean when I told ya about the times me and my partner work vice and entrap fags so they can't rape our little boys?? Yeah it's our civic duty. Wave our big cop dicks in plainclothes at 'em, they come over drooling for 'em, piece of cake, right in the old slammer they all go...and a'course we gotta rough 'em up a little, ya know, they all like to be hit and shit, the fuckin' sick-os!"

"Spoken like a fine American!" intoned Senator Stetson proudly at his like-thinking bodyguard. Stetson ground out his cigarette and said, "Now, let's get at these broads, eh Tony, winked Stetson lewdly, Stetson grabbing his cock through his tuxedo pants for emphasis, as Tony returned the lusty wink and gamely groped his own big cop cock through his tight-fitting, striped motorcycle uniform pants. Officer Napolitano then clicked his shiny black leather motorcycle knee boots on the steps as he followed the Senator up the steps to the front door.

Scott and Mike had planned on simply physically jumping the Senator in the dark, but since they now had two dudes to get, and since one of them was armed, they crossed their fingers and hoped their new "plan B" worked, hokey though it might be. Scott and Mike's eyes were fully accustomed to the darkness by now, and they had Mike's own video camera to use for the living room festivities while Scott's video camera remained useable in the bedroom.

They heard Senator Stetson's loud guffaw at the sign and saw him push open the door eagerly as he and Officer Napolitano burst into the living room only to find it disconcertedly darkened. As they attempted to adjust their eyes to the darkness and felt about for any light switches, Scott and Mike suddenly burst forward from either side of the entry each wielding a mighty umbrella from the umbrella stand, each stabbing the sharp-feeling "business end" of the umbrellas into the center of each of their backs and loudly ordering them "ON YOUR KNEES NOW, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS !! GET YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!!! Fearing for their lives, both complied.

Capitalizing on their victims' utter surprise, Mike reached down and grabbed the cop's gun from its holster and then switched on all the lights flooding the room with sudden brightness.

Stetson and the cop blinked back in horror at the ski-masked and now armed Scott and Mike, Stetson stupidly announcing pompously who he was, that this was an outrage, what were these people doing here? Where is Jason?, etc. while the cop threatened them that an assault on a law enforcement officer was 20 years in prison guaranteed. Scott and Mike, however, had plans that they hoped would ensure that no charges were ever brought. Mike then switched on the living room video camera to record the festivities.

Mike ordered the pompous Stetson to remove the studly Officer Napolitano's handcuffs from the rear of his own gunbelt and then ordered the two at gunpoint over to the door frame leading to an adjoining bathroom, where Scott and Mike had placed a chinning bar for their morning chin-ups.

The studly, fuming spiffily uniformed Officer Napolitano had to allow himself to be handcuffed with his arms raised above his head by the person he was supposed to be bodyguarding, Senator Stetson.

Next, mike ordered Senator Stetson to "FUCKIN' STRIP, NOW!!! TAKE OFF THAT FANCY TUXEDO, ALL YOUR FUCKIN CLOTHES TILL YOUF FUCKIN BAREASS NAKED, NOW!!!!"

Senator Mac Stetson utterly refused, he was a United States Senator, for God's sake!! Absolutely not!!!

A few prods with the gun and threats to blow his horny balls off finally convinced the pompous windbag to comply, Stetson fumingly removing his elaborately tied silk tuxedo tie and stiff collar, then removing the ebony studs serving as the buttons for his elegant tuxedo shirt, until he removed his tuxedo shirt altogether, and then his white tee shirt was pulled over his head, revealing his sun-bronzed muscular torso, with a lawn of dirty-blond body hair fanning out over Stetson's chest, over his perfect pointed peach-toned man-tits and then growing in a line down to his navel before disappearing into his elegant tuxedo pants..

Stetson reluctantly unhitched his tuxedo pants, unzipped and yanked down his tuxedo pants over his sun-bronzed, dirty-blond-haired legs, kicking off his size 12 patent leather loafers and silk socks.

Stetson was now left clad in only his packed white Calvin Klein shorts, his big sun-bronzed hands modestly clasped over his privates, blushing with anger and humiliation.

"Drop the Calvins, Stetson, c'mon the final unveiling!!" laughed Mike, enjoying Stetson's impotent anger and embarrassment.

With a resigned sigh, Stetson peeled down his Calvins, revealing his lush pubic bush of tightly-packed dirty-blond-haired curls, and his huge cock and hairy bull balls, then promptly re-clasped his hands over his patrician privates. Mike then ordered Stetson to stand with his hands on his head, revealing the depths of Stetson's hairy, sweaty armpits.

The humiliated, proud, arrogant Stetson was next ordered to crawl bareass naked over to the cuffed Officer Napolitano at gunpoint, Scott and Mike laughing at Stetson's wiggling pale white ass which was in total contrast to the rest of his sun-bronzed body as he was forced to crawl to Officer Napolitano's shiny black leather motorcycle boots.

The utterly denuded and blushing Stetson was ordered at gunpoint to lick his tongue worshipfully over ever inch of his bodyguard's shiny leather boots, to give them a real "spit shine"! Officer Napolitano's big cock jumped at the vicarious thrill of power of having the arrogant snobby Senator lick his "working class" motorcycle boots, coupled with the fact that the humpy uniformed patrolman was horny from his promised supposed session with the sorority babes.

Stetson was ordered at gunpoint to then worship Officer Napolitano's spiffy uniform with his tongue all over, licking up and down the cop's striped uniform pants, pointedly avoiding his crotch so far, then his gunbelt, then up to his badge which was appropriately tongue-washed by Stetson, as was his metal nameplate, and then Stetson was ordered to tweak the cop's tits through his uniform shirt and regulation white tee shirt. Meanwhile, while Scott held the gun, Mike came around behind the cop and pressed his own clothed body against the cop's humpy butt which was encased in his tight-fitting uniform pants, Mike rubbing his obvious boner which was throbbing in Mike's pants right against the crack of the cop's uniformed backside, Mike reaching around to tweak the cop's tits and whisper in his ear, "yeah this is getting to ya eh, copper? Ya getting a boner being worshipped by Senator Stetson and me, eh?" only to punctuate this by groping the hot cop's big equipment through the front of his uniform pants, Mike commenting that "Yeah you're throwing a bone, officer, can't deny that, eh?"

The shocked cop hissed "I will personally track you down like a dog and hang you by your balls for this asshole!" to Mike and Scott's laughter.

Stetson was next ordered to suck the cop sweat out of the cop's uniform-shirt-covered upraised armpits, which caused the Senator to gag at his bodyguard's musky BO, only for the cop to giggle a little at this sensation. Very promising!

Stetson was next ordered to open the cop's zipper with his teeth and fish out the cop's big prick.

Scott and Mike forced the horrified, pompous homophobic Senator at gunpoint to first sloppily and then more expertly go down on the cop's big prick, Mike rubbing his crotch up against the cop's tight-uniform-panted humpy butt and tweaking the cop's tits through his uniform shirt, hissing in the cop's ear to "Yeah, ride with it, you fuckin' gay-entrapping cop, feels real nice having that pompous windbag Senator Stetson chowing down on your 'working class' Italian salami, doesn't it? Just consider it the revenge of the 'working stiffs' , eh what? Yeah you can't deny it, stud, you're getting off on this big time, look at how hard your cock is as it slides down the throat of that pompous bastard, yeah, give it to him, grind that tight little humpy cop ass of yours and plow that sucker down his throat, make him choke on that big, hot cop meat, yeahhh!!!!

Officer Napolitano did just that, egged on by Mike, who also slapped the cop's tight, uniform-panted ass for encouragement, alternately cupping his hands and squeezing, pinching, kneading, separating and karate chopping the uniformed assglobes of the cop's pile-driving butt as he fed his big meat to Stetson.

Scott had Stetson remove the cop's big hairy bull-balls as well, and Stetson was forced at gunpoint to lick and suck the cop's musky, sweaty balls, nibbling on the profuse, manly hairs and slurping the cop's cum-churning nuts like lozenges, only to be forced back onto the cop's throbbing cock, sucking it up and down, up and down, until the out-of-it cop threw his head back and gave a wild wailing scream that "OHH MY GOD, YOU'RE MAKING ME DO IT, I'M GONNA SHOOT MY HOT COP LOAD, UH-HUH,UH-HUH-UH-HUH, OH YEAHHHHH!!!!"

Mike continued slapping the uniformed motorcycle cop's ass and tweaking his tits until, at the moment of the cop's climax, Mike grabbed his big prick just as it exploded, Mike aiming the discharging hose right at Stetson's horrified face just as it went off like the Fourth of July, spewing volcanic burst of hot cop cum all over Stetson's face, designer-cut lacquered hair, eyes, nose and mouth, and down his screaming outraged throat, as hot cop cum kept spewing out of the pent-up, turned-on cop's humpy cop bull-balls, arcing up in the air and around in big circles, splattering the floor, ceiling, Scott and the opposite wall before giving short staccato bursts which soiled the cop's own spiffy uniform shirt and pants, then drooled cum in a big snail-trail down his spiffy uniform pants-leg as it hung hugely out of the cop's fly, temporarily spent but still throbbing.

Mike then scooped up copious amounts of the cop's own cum and suddenly rubbed the cop's own hot cum all over the cop's handsome face, nose and mouth, making the cop lick his own cum off of Mike's fingers with his hot cop tongue, who glared with outrage and blushing humiliation all the while.

Scott hooted at the fact that the humiliated Stetson was himself sporting a half-hard boner throughout this session. The hooting catcalls at his predicament only made his pecker throb with shameful excitement for the video camera, to his abject humiliation. Mike then spanked the arrogant Senator Stetson with the frat paddle until it was flaming fire-engine red and burning and he was begging for mercy.

Scott and Mike then forced Senator Stetson at gunpoint to crawl his sorry flaming red ass across the living room floor and on into the bedroom where the naked Stetson was horrified to see that the "fiends" had bound his ex-intern Jason Braddock III balls-ass naked on the bed, bound with duct tape! The duct tape was removed to allow Braddock to again erupt in a stream of futile curses.

Scott and Mike extracted Braddock's still sweaty jockstrap from his gym bag and draped it over Stetson's horrified face, forcing Stetson to breathe his intern's jock and ball sweat and chew on the young quarterback/Pledgemaster's stray pubic hairs, while Stetson's discarded sweaty Calvins were hung over Braddock's own head.

The denuded duo were then bound naked back-to-naked back on the bed at gunpoint, feeling each other's bare asscheeks as they had no choice but to rub their hair-flecked backsides against each other, only to be tightly bound at the wrists and ankles so that they were effectively one unit, Braddock's hairy torso and half-hard privates facing up and Stetson's own hairy torso and lengthening cock pressing flat against the bed under the weight of Braddock. The duo could easily be flipped exposing Stetson's torso and privates at will, then flipped again to do likewise to those of Braddock once again.

Scott Wheeler then proceeded to flip the bound duo over and proceeded to again lean forward and pinch and tweak Stetson's hair-haloed tits until they were standing at attention in eraser-hard points and Stetson was moaning and groaning with unbidden lust, Scott also reaching up into the sweaty recesses of Stetson's manly hairy armpits and yanking out clumps of hair and sprinkling them onto the nose of the outraged Stetson, Scott also doing likewise to clumps of Stetson's chest hair and manly pubes to his own yowls of protest.

Scott next proceeded to flip the bound duo over again and tickle tortured Braddock , tickling Braddock's hairy tits, and ribs, wildly tickling the naked dude's totally exposed sweaty steamy armpits, eliciting wild uncontrollable giggling gurgles, shrieks, and desperate pleas to stop, to no avail. All the while, Stetson's hunky body was wildly thrashed about under the weight of the wildly struggling sweaty fellow stud Braddock, his own huge cock and hairy balls pressed onto the bed, Scott Wheeler and Mike devilishly also simultaneously tickling Stetson's own feet and reaching under Braddock to tickle Stetson's own hairy armpits, tits and ribs, as the hapless Stetson was held down by the weight of fellow dude Braddock's hunky, hairy sweaty body, Braddock's hot ass grinding onto Stetson's own still-hot-from-spanking ass, turning on Stetson against his will.

Scott Wheeler and Mike tickled Braddock's handsome face, tickling their armpit-sweat-coated fingers across Braddock's sensuous wind-burned lips, then down again to his hairy tits, chest, and ultra-ticklish ribs and crotch, before wildly concentrating on tickling the denuded dude's wildly-pulsating boner with their educated fingers, while simultaneously tickling Braddock's cum-bloated hairy balls, Scott Wheeler and Mike devilishly idly tracing their fingertips ever-so-lightly under the sensitive tip of Braddock's pulsating pecker until Braddock was babbling incoherently and moaning and groaning with unsatisfied lust.

Scott Wheeler and Mike tickled both of Braddock's thrashing, hairy legs before zeroing in on the bottoms of his bound, bare feet, eliciting "No, no no!! Not my feet, no!! NOOOO!!!!!" as Scott Wheeler and Mike drove the hapless dude into near dementia.

Mike next proceeded to flip the bound duo over again and proceeded to tickle torture the ex-pro football player Stetson with the aid of Scott, tickling Stetson's hairy tits, and ribs, wildly tickling the naked Stetson's totally exposed sweaty steamy armpits, eliciting wild uncontrollable giggling gurgles, shrieks, and desperate pleas to stop, to no avail. All the while, fellow stud Braddock's hunky body was wildly thrashed about under the weight of the wildly struggling Stetson, his own huge cock and hairy balls pressed onto the bed, Scott Wheeler and Mike devilishly also simultaneously tickling Braddock's own feet and reaching under Braddock to tickle Braddock's own hairy armpits, tits and ribs, as the hapless fellow stud Braddock was held down by the weight of Stetson's hunky body, Stetson's still-red-hot ass grinding onto that of fellow dude Braddock, turning on Braddock against his will.

All the while, Mike deliberately jacked off Braddock's cock to his abject horror, Braddock's cock growing huge in the process, continuing to simultaneously tickle Braddock's feet, armpits, ribs and other sensitive areas. Meanwhile, Mike also tickled and goosed Braddock's feet, ribs, armpits, cock and balls as Stetson was pinned to the bed by the weight of Braddock and Scott, Braddock's ass still sliding sensuously against that of the bound, humpy bareass naked Stetson.

Scott and Mike next released Braddock and Stetson at gunpoint and re-bound them into all four restraints on rigid iron bar torture restraints, their arms into the interior restraints and their ankles into the widest spread restraints so that they were forced into either a sitting position, or if flipped over, their bare asses were forced high in the air and their hairy cracks totally revealed, with their hairy virgin assholes completely exposed and vulnerable.

Scott Wheeler and Mike flipped the denuded duo over, first again spanking their deserving asses until they were again flaming fire engine red.

After several more minutes of tickle torture after being spanked, Scott expertly trailed a feather along the tip of Braddock's cock and tickled his hairy balls until Braddock finally shot like a cannon, pistoning upward as if from the nozzle of a pressurized fireman's hose, his nut-oysters rocketing thorough the air and spewing out and spraying in huge wads, arcing and bursting apart like fireworks on the Fourth of July, all over the floor, huge globs of quarterback/Pledgemaster cum spewing out of his prick, his incredibly pent-up and teased body finally getting the sexual relief it had been denied for so long.

Meanwhile, Mike used his own feather to tickle Stetson's cock and hairy balls, until the proud Stetson himself blasted off load after steaming load of pent-up cum.

Scott and Mike then returned to the living room where the bound, uniformed gay-bashing motorcycle cop Tony Napolitano still struggled in his bondage, his cum-dripping prick still hanging hugely out of the fly of his now dried, cum-stained uniform pants. The cop was shocked to see that his assailants were now naked except for their ski masks.

The cop again made ominous threats of how he was personally gonna cut the balls off of each of them for this, track them down like the fuckin gay-ass dogs they were and kill them slowly, but this only produced chilling, derisive laughs from Scott and Mike.

While Scott held the gun, Mike proceeded to release one of the gay bashing cop's uniformed arms from the handcuffs which bound his hands to the chinning bar in the doorway, then unbuttoned the cop's uniform shirt and slipped the cop's hunky sun-bronzed right arm up out of the right short sleeve of his uniform shirt, only to re-cuff his right wrist back into the handcuffs and snapped the cuff back onto the chinning bar. Mike next repeated this action with the cop's hunky left arm, so that when his left wrist was re-cuffed to the chinning bar, Mike had completely, neatly removed the cop's cum-stained uniform shirt without damaging it, intending to keep it as a souvenir.

Scott and Mike admired the hunky cop who now hung in bondage with his upper torso clad in only his sweaty standard-department-issue white cotton tee shirt which hugged his hunky chest perfectly, the cop's tits standing up under the tight tee shirt as prominent points which capped the musculature of his police-gym-workout-perfected chest.

Mike noted how small tufts of sweaty jet-black-armpit hair peeked and sprouted out of the hunky Italian cop's otherwise white-cotton-tee-shirt-covered upraised armpits, and how that area was nearly snow white and vulnerable-looking, being in total contrast to the sun-bronzed olive skin of the humpy cop. Mike went over to the bound cop from behind and delved his icy cold fingers to pet and tease these few exposed tufts of tantalizingly exposed armpit hair, causing the cop to jerk and jump and swear at Mike to "quit queering me you fuckin' faggot!!"

Mike temporarily removed the cop's gunbelt with its attached nightstick holder and nightstick and then unhitched the outraged cop's tight uniform pants and tugged them down his sun-bronzed, muscular, incredibly jet-black-hairy legs to the top of the gay bashing motorcycle cop's polished leather knee-boots. Officer Napolitano howled in outrage at this indignity and impotently threatened further neutering action on both assailants. Mike commented on how "Monica kept a cum-stained blue dress, we can keep this cop's cum-stained uniform!" to hoots of laughter.

Mike then temporarily removed the proud cop's shiny knee-boots so that he could free the cum-stained souvenir-to-be uniform pants, and then replaced the black leather knee-boots onto the cop's feet and attached the gunbelt over the waistband of the cop's white Calvin Klein shorts, so that the cop was now hung in his embarrassing bondage clad in only his white cotton tee shirt and white cotton Calvins (with his cop cock still hanging out of them), plus his black leather gunbelt/nightstick holder and his black leather knee-boots.

Mike made a brief detour outside where the cop had hidden his motorcycle, momentarily considering the efficacy of bringing the entire motorcycle into the house to be used in the festivities but dismissing it as too much work, and instead removed the white motorcycle officer helmet from the rear of the cycle and returned to place it on the cop's outraged head, telling Scott "We wanna make sure we know it's a cop we're fucking with!" to hoots of laughter and fuming resentment on the part of the outraged, blushing, gay bashing cop.

Mike then suddenly returned behind the bound cop, and, after suddenly hooking his strong fingers into the seams of the sweaty underarm areas of the cop's white cotton tee shirt, suddenly forcefully pulled down hard and with a funky RRRRRRRIPPPPPPPP!!!! the sweaty white cotton tee shirt ripped all the way down the sides of the tee shirt to the top of the cop's gunbelt, and a further sudden ripping of the neck of the tee shirt resulted in the tee shirt's falling into two big pieces and right off of the cop's body, exposing his sun-bronzed, olive-skinned, muscular chest which was covered with a mat of jet black chest hair which fanned out over the broad planes of the cop's perfectly sculpted, heaving chest, over his perfect pointed man-tits, then trailing down his six-pack abdominals in a fine line only to fan out again as it approached the cop's crotch, and also revealing the sweat-smelling depths of Officer Napolitano's incredibly hairy, jet-black-haired exposed armpits.

Mike next temporarily readjusted the video camera to catch the next step, which was to suddenly and forcefully yank up on the rear waistband of the cop's Calvins so that the white form-fitting cotton first rode up sexily to reveal an expanse of both of the cop's lightly jet-black-hair-flecked assglobes, which were pale white in contrast tot the deeply sun-bronzed olive skin of the rest of the cop's hunky body, and then yank up even harder forcing the cotton shorts to first gather in the jet-black-furred asscrack of the cop's humpy ass only to be accompanied by another funky RRRRRRIIPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!! sound as the Calvins utterly gave way and split in two in the crotch, leaving the cop completely naked except for his knee-boots, gunbelt and helmet!!

Mike further humiliated the fuming gay bashing cop by holding the ruined Calvins in his face and making him sniff and lick them, pointing out to the cop's undying, blushing humiliation that "Look, you fuckin' pig, you left fuckin' 'skid marks' in your fuckin' shorts!! Didn't your mother teach you to wipe yourself???"

As "punishment" for improper hygiene Mike proceeded to use the frat paddle on the denuded cop's naked ass, spanking his deserving ass until it was flaming fire engine red and the cop was begging for mercy.

Mike next took the nightstick out of its holder in Officer Napolitano's gunbelt, and rapped it against his own hand, testing its strength and brandishing it in a threatening manner in front of the naked cop's now fearful face.

Mike didn't use it to bash the cop like Officer Napolitano used it to bash the gays he arrested, but instead used it to slide down the length of the cop's hunky body, tapping it against the cop's hair-haloed tits, then down to tease his hardening pecker, teasing the sensitive glans as he used the nightstick to bounce and flop the cop's big prick around, sliding the long nightstick under the cop's balls, only to slide it through his jet-black-furred asscrack, then going around behind the cop to slide the nightstick up and down his furry crack, and then to prod the end of the big nightstick right against Officer Napolitano's hair-haloed virgin asshole. Mike decided not to ram the huge thing up the cop's ass, but just to tease his shithole with it, to the cop's abject humiliation.

Mike then proceeded to temporarily replace the nightstick in its holder on the cop's gunbelt, and instead Scott began to tickle the bound gay-bashing cop with a feather, Scott deliberately insinuating the feather against the cop's still half-hard cock , then running the feather all along the cop's sunbronzed back, hunky asscheeks and hairy legs, causing the gay-bashing cop to erupt with another string of curses at the "goddamned faggots! Let me go, you fucking sickos" again to the delight of Scott and Mike.

Nevertheless the cop's giant pecker was now throbbing with lust as he felt Scott trail the feather against his hairy man-tits.

Mike simultaneously began to tickle the cop's armpits, tits and torso, Scott tickling the cop's rock-hard cock and hairy balls, both Scott and Mike making fun of the cop for getting a hard-on. Be sure to smile for the camera, asshole!"

While Scott tickled Officer Napolitano's cock and teased his hairy balls, Mike and Scott continued reaching up and tickling his armpits and torso, as well as the cop's hairy virgin asscrack and over his still red hot asscheeks using their feathers to drive Officer Napolitano up the wall. Mike spread the cop's bad-boy buttcheeks and slid his feather over Officer Napolitano's musky crack then over and into the cop's exposed, hair-haloed virgin asshole, Mike also again slapping and spanking those deserving buttcheeks while he insinuated his feather right up Officer Napolitano's virgin asshole.

Mike and Scott continued this treatment for several minutes, Scott tickling the cop's cock for all he was worth, again and again driving Officer Napolitano to the brink of orgasm, only to deny the arrogant cop any sexual relief. Mike and Scott would temporarily abandon their cock-tickling and ass-tickling to instead simultaneously tickle the entire length of the front and back of the cop's suspended body, with Officer Napolitano unable to do anything about it except alternately curse them and ooo and ahhh at the feeling of his body being hyper-sexually stimulated.

Mike and Scott reached up and under Officer Napolitano's sweaty, thickly-haired armpits, tickling lightly and then more forcefully, yanking on his dripping armpit hairs and pulling some out while they mercilessly tickled and licked out the sweat from the cop's exposed vulnerable pits, alternately teasing, licking, tickling and nibbling on the gay bashing cop's erect hairy man-tits as well. Scott and Mike also delighted in again simultaneously running their tickling fingers down Officer Napolitano's helplessly exposed sides, ribs, stomach and six-pack abdominals, Scott even licking the cop's hairy navel with his hot wet tongue, causing him to arch his back in involuntary ecstasy.

Scott thoroughly insinuated his feather into each of the cop's hairy pits, savoring their musky manly scent, then tickled up and over the cop's handsome face, forcing Officer Napolitano to open his mouth while Scott thoroughly tickled the sweat-smelling feather over his lips forcing the cop to smell and taste of the arrogant gay bashing cop's own pits, Scott tickling the cop's handsome Roman nose, with the feather, then all over his handsome face, telling Officer Napolitano "Yeahh, you're fuckin' loving being tickled by two hunky men, don't you, you two-bit cop? I can see your boner throbbing , yeahh, it feels so gooood, doesn't it asshole?"

Officer Napolitano was reduced to plaintive, sex-starved mewls of lust as Scott then delved down to tickle the cop's hairy chest tickling nibbling, and tweaking his pink-eraser-tipped erect tits each in turn, then trailing his feather down and over his hairy 6-pack abdominals, tickling his hair-haloed navel while simultaneously tickling his vulnerable sides and ribs. Scott merely blew his hot breath on Officer Napolitano's straining-for-a release-which-was-to-be-denied throbbing cock as he tickled his way down the length of the cop's sun-bronzed, muscular, hairy legs, down to his bare feet. Scott and Mike next proceeded to continue to tickle torture the gay-bashing cop. Scott also tickled the cop with his hands, tickling Officer Napolitano's left man-tit, teasing it his lithe fingers tweaking, strumming and pulling on Officer Napolitano's right man-tit, causing the cop to squeal, gasp, thrash, curse, and tug wildly at his bonds to no avail.

Then Scott again relentlessly tickled Officer Napolitano's hunky, hair-trailed six-pack abdominals and then trailed his fingers up along Officer Napolitano's hunky, hairy collarbone, only to teasingly again descend into the ripe, soupy confines of Officer Napolitano's incredibly hairy, totally and helplessly exposed left armpit, teasing and tickling the ticklish cop's underarm as he squealed, screamed, begged Scott to "STOPPP!! OH MY GOD!!!!! OH, NOOOOOO!!! STOP!!! NO NOT THERE!!! I CAN'T FUCKIN TAKE IT!!! TIME OUT!!!! NOOOO!!!! HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!!! OH FUCKK!!!DAMNNNNN!!! NOOOOO!!!! as the bullying cop wildly thrashed and cursed to no avail.

Mike and Scott next approached the bound gay-bashing cop with their own two electric toothbrushes, switching them on and Scott directing his vibrating whirring bristles at the humpy patrolman's groin while Mike directed his tickle torture machine directly on the sole of the arch of the deserving cop's bare foot.

Officer Napolitano reacted with every muscle in his pent-up hot cop body. He shrieked, arched, twisted, writhed and pulled at his restraints, yelling "STOPPP!! OH NO!!! NO MORE!!! TAKE THOSE DAMN THINGS AWAY NO MORE!!! TIME OUT !!! OH SHITTTT!!!! YOU FUCKIN' QUEER BASTARDS!!!!

Then both Mike and Scott directed the electric toothbrushes directly on the soles of both of the bound cop's feet, causing further laughs, shrieks, gyrations, gurgles and curses, as the gay-bashing cop's huge cock flopped across his six-pack abdominals, slapped at his hairy sun-bronzed thighs, slapped against his hairy bull-balls, until the Mike and Scott temporarily switched the maddening tickle torture devices off.

Officer Napolitano then shot off a series of curses, "You fuckin' sons of bitches, I'm gonna get free and then I'm gonna, I'm gonna..." only to scream "AIEEEEE!!!!" as Scott and Mike re-directed their buzzing electric toothbrushes probing Officer Napolitano's armpits, balls and ass, his hair-haloed nipples, the inside of his thighs, all at random, only to then start 'ironing' the glans of his throbbing prick with the electric toothbrushes onto the rock-hard 'ironing board' of his six-pack abdominals.

Mike and Scott then concentrated on buzzing their electric toothbrushes, up and down, up and down, back and forth, back and forth, over the horny cop's helplessly exposed prick flesh, moving the whirring, buzzing, vibrating electric toothbrushes evilly up from the deserving, gay-bashing cop's hairy bull-balls to the very tip of his helplessly throbbing cock, using the fiendish bristles to roll the funky wrinkled and crinkled skin of the head of his circumcised prick-head up and down over the swollen glans.

"AAAAHHHHH!!! OHHHHH, SHITTTTTT, YESSSS!!" moaned the helpless cop.

Scott then zeroed in, lifting Officer Napolitano's hairy bull-balls, which had drawn up from the stimulation of the patrolman's pent-up cop-spunk, only to aim the bristles of the whirring electric toothbrush directly under the hapless cop's bull-balls and right into the furry crack of the humpy patrolman's cute, tight little ass.

"BUZZZZZZ!!!" went the electric toothbrushes, the latest stimulating contact being more erotic and subtle than the bound cop could have imagined, and, while Mike pressed down onto the glans of the cop's incredibly hard, huge throbbing cop cock with one hand while sweeping a tapering feather under each of Officer Napolitano's sweating, incredibly exposed armpits with is other hand, Scott insinuated the whirring bristles of his own electric toothbrush deep into the gay-bashing patrolman's furry asscrack.

"AWWWWW!!!" groaned the out-of-it supremely tickle-tortured gay-bashing cop, grunting and curling his toes, thrusting his cute, tight little ass in funky figure-8's against Scott's invading electric toothbrush, Scott and Mike announcing the obvious, that the pent-up cop was again about to pop big-time against his will, the cop sighing "AHHH, YEAHHHH!!!!" as the humpy patrolman's hairy bull-balls rose up, Officer Napolitano shrieked, his face twisted with unbidden homoerotic lust as his giant prick spewed out bolt after bolt of red-hot, manly pent-up Italian cop lava against his hyper-hetero will, huge bolts of the man-scum spraying wildly onto Scott and Mike and across the room, arcing up and spraying the cop's hairy chest, exposed armpits and even right into his surprised face, until subsiding into little staccato bursts. Mike and Scott then scooped up the cum and spread it all over the face of the revolted cop , who stared at them in disbelief, bug-eyed.

Scott and Mike spent the rest of the night having their way with the bound cop, before dumping him in a trash can in a notorious gay-action public park restroom. They released Braddock and Senator Stetson, after playing back enough of the incriminating videotape to make them groan in horror and promise not to file a complaint against Scott and Mike for fear of the tape being made public. Braddock finally got his computer disk and password along with the return of his $200. But when Braddock eagerly inserted the disk in his computer at the frat house it was blank!!! "That fuckin' double-crossing cock-sucking bastard!!!" shouted Braddock , to no avail.

EPILOGUE

Scott and Mike sold their video of Senator Stetson to Larry Flynt for a huge sum of money and bought a huge new house in another state. Larry Flynt marketed the video of the conservative Senator Stetson getting it on with his young Washington intern and a uniformed cop. "Muffy" divorced the ruined Stetson and took the designer children with her.

After they were through abusing him, Scott and Mike unceremoniously dumped a naked Officer Napolitano (still clad in only his helmet, gunbelt (sans gun) and black leather knee-boots) head first into a trash can with his arms handcuffed behind his back at a notorious gay public restroom at a city park. They used a black "Marks-a-Lot" marking pen to write "PLEASE FUCK ME-I'M A COP IN NEED" across Officer Napolitano's upturned bare ass at it hung out of the trashcan. Officer Napolitano was said to have thereafter retired from the police force and moved to London to live with his newfound lover, George Michael.

Senator Stetson announced his shocking retirement from the U.S. Senate at a nationally televised news conference. Senator Stetson made his announcement without comment, then promptly nearly passed out on camera, his big beefy hands unfortunately grabbing onto the nearest objects to break his fall, which were the toupees of Senator Strom Thurman and news anchor Sam Donaldson. The fact that scurrying aides accidentally plopped Thurman's tie-dyed orange toupee onto Sam Donaldson's head (backwards) and Donaldson's black patent leather number onto Thurman's head (lopsided) further marred the news conference. Senator Thurman was also awakened from his nap due to the commotion.

Needless to say, without Scott's paper, Jason Braddock III never got into Stanford. He now sputters to work in a used Yugo, toiling long hours scrubbing toilets in one of the Braddock family's least prestigious businesses, overseen by a team of Latino maintenance managers. Jason is now seriously considering accepting talk show offers to appear with Monica Lewinsky on subjects such as "Hot Washington Intern Affairs-An Insider's View" or alone in "I Was a Teenage Gay Sex Slave in Washington"; now he needs the money.


THE END




Richard
carefreerichard@hotmail.com
 

 
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