Guidance (closed for ericrodman101) [M/M]

[ericrodman101]

Where was fucking Toby? Gerry was increasingly agitated. When he wanted to work the kid was pestering him for sex. But when he needed to speak with him, the kid was nowhere to be found.

Henry had seen them fucking by the canal. In broad fucking daylight. Over the fucking hood of the fucking station wagon. Fuck!

Gerry recalled Toby's class timetable and made his way round the school, fruitlessly, he knew. As if Toby would attend class. Especially when he'd written him a note excusing him. What was the reason again? Toby Keller can't attend class today because he has a sore ass from being fucked in the school guidance counsellor's office? Please excuse Toby Keller from class while he washes the piss out of his mouth? Toby Keller is away today while he scouts the town for older men to fuck? Yeah, that was about the size of it.

So what was Henry going to do with the information he had? Which he'd had for two days now. Jesus! Fucking in a public place. Crazy fucking stupid or what?

And when he'd almost given up hope and was ready to see if the stench in his office had receded, he bumped into Toby emerging from the school chaplain's office. Gerry grabbed at the boy, too roughly in the crowded corridor, but oblivious to what anyone around them might think.

"Toby," he said, pushing the kid against the wall. "There's something super important we need to discuss."

 

[tamgreen]

Toby's face initially betrayed pure, innocent shock when he was grabbed and pushed around by the guidance counsellor unexpectedly. Quickly he put on what would have been expected of him - a scowl of teenage bitterness.

"Am I in trouble again?" he exclaimed, halfway between a whine and a snarl.

It was an act, but he really was annoyed. As far as he was concerned, Gerry was the one in trouble. He followed the older man to his office, being the only person he wouldn't worry about bringing in there right now, considering the state of it. The place smelled like a urinal or the stairway of a parking garage now that the piss was no longer fresh.

"Yeah, you're fucking right there's something we need to discuss," Toby snapped as soon as the door was closed behind them. "You hard for that douchebag Henry Merton now? Am I just another one of your holes? Am I not whorish enough for you? Not gay enough? You want me to have purple hair and piercings, and stupid mesh shirts? What do you want, Gerry?"

It started out snide and defiant, but by the end of his tirade, it was clear from his tone that he was hurt.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry controlled himself in the corridor, turned and walked to his office, Toby in tow. As he shut the door, the older man turned to speak, but the boy went first.

”You hard for Henry Merton?”

Henry? Gerry shook his head as Toby spat out the rest of his rant. Not whorish enough? Not gay enough? Was this an act or was the boy genuinely hurt?

Gerry wasn’t sure he even cared. Toby finished and the two men stood, not quite far enough apart to feel disconnected, watching and waiting for one of them to speak next.

”Henry saw us fucking,” Gerry said. ”Down by the canal. And before you say so what, so what?”

So what? It wasn’t quite how Gerry wanted to put things. But he felt fearful suddenly that Henry wasn’t about to keep this information to himself, even if he’d indicated clearly that it was the chaplain he had in his sights. He wanted Toby to work out that Henry was a problem, not a rival, first and foremost, who needed to be managed.

But Toby stayed silent. Seconds ticked by.

”Say something, you fucking little punk,” Gerry spat, surprised at the venom in his voice. What was this kid’s game? Nothing seemed clear now. Certain or predictable or likely to succeed. The older man felt vulnerable, spit in his mouth, pulse pounding in his ears. Talk, dammit!

“Or maybe I do want to fuck Henry. Do you want to watch?”

 

[tamgreen]

Toby was truly dumbstruck at this. Henry knew? Henry saw them?

Jesus. The boy could have already tattled. He could tattle anytime he wanted. He had them by the short hairs. What were they going to do about this?

And then Gerry started snarling back at him. Taunting him. Fucking taunting him, like a bully. Just a few days ago, Gerry had called him his boyfriend, and now he was pulling this shit, acting like he was the bratty teen. Toby's mouth trembled slightly, and then he forced it into a scowl.

"Fuck you!" he snapped back, injecting as much anger as possible to cover the hurt. "What, do you think this is somehow my fault that he saw you being a pervert with a teenager? With your student? Do you think this is MY fucking fault, and now you're gonna punish me for it? This is ALL on you, you asshole, and if you get fired, maybe I'll just laugh at you! At least you'll get all the boy ass you want, since I guess you don't have any standards. Go ahead - fuck Henry, and I hope you get a disease! I'm sure as hell not gonna watch you debase yourself like that. You're the whore, Metzler. I saw you in the library getting a happy ending, and I didn't stay, because you make me fucking sick!"

 

[ericrodman101]

"All my fault! Fucking Jesus!"

Gerry saw red. He wanted to hit out, to strike something. Anything.

"You want a disease, you fucking little shit?"

Gerry grabbed at the boy, taking advantage of his height and weight. Toby pushed back as the older man bent him back over the desk.

"Lie still, you little cunt while I pull your fucking pants off."

The teacher tried to pin the boy with one hand while grabbing for the jeans and the zip. The kid struggled and Gerry only succeeded in pushing him down while bumping his own knees against the sharp edge of the hard wooden desk.

"Jesus! Fuck!"

Gerry wanted to hurt the boy. Make him pay for what he'd said. He knew it was wrong. Knew it was against all his training and upbringing and everything intellectual and decent inside him. Destructive of everything he'd experienced with the boy, the growth and awakening and honesty. The sheer unadulterated mind-numbing fucking pleasure. So wrong it made his head hurt. But instinctively right, like an animal baring its teeth and defending its territory. His unchecked emotion scared him and fired him up, the hurt and the strength and the shame and the pride all festering like a poison.

Whore. Happy ending. The words shouted in his head. Maybe he'd said them out loud. Maybe not. Gerry couldn't tell anymore. His hand was on the boy's neck.

"Jesus!"

Gerry cried in anguish. He wanted to be hard. He wanted to be inside the boy. He wanted the boy to know....what? He wanted to cry, but for whom he didn't know.

"Just go," he said. "Just go and let me work out what's wrong with me."

 

[tamgreen]

All of Toby's instincts pushed him to fight. He was a scrappy little fucker and had been since he dropped out of his drug addict mother. You didn't survive a life like that unless you were a scrappy fucker, so of course he lashed out whenever he felt hurt or afraid. Of course he had no coping skills. Of course he couldn't handle an adult relationship. Of course he kicked at Gerry's shins and elbowed him in the gut when the old man tried to get into his pants by force.

Gerry. Trying to force him. Fuck. How had it come to this? Toby didn't want to be raped again - he'd let it happen because it might save them. Save Gerry. He did it for him, the man who got past his armor, the man who took him out of his shitty home and welcomed him into a real one, the man who was the first to really give a fuck and show it. Now there was just fuck. Had that been it, all along? The sandwiches, the tough love, the kisses and the lovemaking, all the talk of being boyfriends. Of course the old guy just wanted a tighter hole than his wife's to fuck, and of course Gerry wasn't any better a man than any other asshole out there. Why had Toby ever sugar coated it all?

But it hurt - it cut deep, and as soon as Gerry let go of him, Toby pulled away and leaned against the wall nearby, panting, trying not to show the tears in his eyes.

Fuck you, fuck you old man, fuck you in particular, I hate you, I hate your miserable guts!

But he didn't say any of it, because it wasn't true, and maybe that was the most depressing part of it. He swiped the back of his wrist across his face, grabbed his backpack, and fled, hoping he wouldn't be late for PoliSci, and that he didn't smell like piss.

His classes were every bit as rough as usual, and he was having just as hard a time trying to work up enough effort to care about graduating. Would it make a difference, for a pathetic little fuck like him who had no future in any event, and never should have been born alive? Gerry had changed everything, for a little while, and now Toby didn't know who the fuck that man was or what he might do.

Just go and let me work out what's wrong with me.

What did that mean? How long would it take?

As 3pm rolled around, Toby wandered the halls like a lost waif, not sure what was supposed to happen from here. He just wanted to go back to what they'd had this weekend. He wanted Daddy.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry let Toby flee. Thank Christ. If the boy hadn't fought back, the teacher would have....hurt him? Raped him? The word 'rape' kept flashing in Gerry's head. Was he capable of rape? Wasn't every man? That's what they said at Andrea's women's group. And on the banners unfurled at the school on Women's Day. Gerry wanted to fuck Toby, wanted to dominate Toby, wanted in every way to stand above him, and yet somehow Toby was the strong one, the one who knew what he wanted, the one who made Gerry feel and act like a confused hormonal teenager. Thank Christ I didn't rape the kid, he thought.

The school counsellor found himself stumbling along the corridor before he knew where he was going. Anywhere was better than his rank office. And a voice in his head kept telling him he needed help. Needed to tell someone what just happened? But nothing happened. Nothing, he told himself. And then, rejecting the craziness of having this internal conversation, said 'Gerry, you're a sad old fuckwit', but couldn't tell if he'd said it out loud.

He looked round and found himself outside the chaplain's office. The chaplain had only just been appointed and the sign on the door was still blank. He opened the door without knocking. Gabriel Dance sat behind his desk and looked up with that look on his face which still signaled 'why would anyone want to see me?'

"Gabriel..."

"Gerry. Hi. Take a seat. It's nice to see someone."

Gerry sat and looked about the room. His thoughts were clarifying now. It wasn't that he'd tried to rape the boy. That was his problem to internalize, to wrestle with. Nothing could be gained from telling anyone else. No, the problem was that Toby might tell someone. Would he be credible? Would anyone believe that good old professional Gerry, boring and solid school guidance counsellor of decade's standing, would fuck one of the students? Hmmm.

"Can I help you, Gerry?"

Gerry listened to the tone in the chaplain's voice. He sounded so pleased to be having a conversation. To have company.

And then there was Henry Merton. He'd seen them fucking. He and Toby. Down by the canal. Would anyone believe Henry? He was more popular than Toby. Or more of a known quantity at least. And the art and drama departments loved him even if everyone else thought he was a preening, self-confident weirdo.

"Ummm....has Toby been to see you?"

"Toby....?"

"Toby Keller." Gerry felt the saliva in his mouth evaporate, his lips grinding together like sandpaper. "The problem kid from Central. Looks like an altar boy, but lots of history."

Fuck! I might as well say he's a serial killer.

"Toby. Yes. We had a chat earlier." Gabriel stroked his chin. "It was a bit out there. A personal issue. He was looking for guidance. I suggested he talk to you. As a professional guidance counsellor. I'm here more for the spiritual stuff. Ha!"

Gerry was focused now. What the fuck had Toby asked Gabriel?

"Can you give me a clue? What sort of personal issue?"

Gabriel leaned back in his chair. Gerry noticed the chaplain was sweating. Nervous? Inexperienced?

"Well...I don't know how to put it? It wasn't something teenagers raise with me every day."

Now Gerry laughed. "Gabriel, teenagers raise stuff with me every day that would make your hair curl. And even when you think you've heard it all, along comes some kid with an issue you never dreamed would be mentioned in a school."

It felt good to be in control. To have the upper hand. Gabriel looked a little more comfortable, as if he was about to unburden himself.

"Well...he wanted to know if it was bad for an older man to have sex with an eighteen year old."

Gerry coughed on what little spit was left in his mouth. He wiped his hand across his lips.

"Did he say who was fucking him?"

Clang! Too quick Gerry. Slow down. It was just a question. You sound as guilty as fuck.

"No. he didn't." Gabriel smiled nervously and looked down at his lap. "It was just a question, I'm sure. An academic exercise. A prank. What's the craziest question we can ask the chaplain? What will embarrass the stupid guy. He probably cooked it up with the other boys."

"Toby doesn't have any friends."

Again Gerry heard himself speak too quickly. Thoughtlessly. Jesus!

"I mean, from what I know he's a bit of a loner. But yeah, I'm sure it was a prank. Mischief making. Yeah."

"And I told him it wasn't my area and he should talk to you, Gerry. He seemed happy with that."

"Good," Gerry said, getting to his feet. "You gave him the right advice. I'll go find him and see if he needs support."

He turned and walked to the door.

"And by the way, has Henry Merton been to see you?"

"Henry?" Another blank look crossed the chaplain's face. Gerry wondered if the man was generally confused or had practised looking dumb.

"The peacock." Now Gerry was just getting personal. "The emo kid who colors his hair and wears makeup. Dresses like an eighties rock star with his shirt open. Pierced nipples. Pubes on display." Enough, Gerry. You sound like you've had a very close look.

"That guy." Gabriel relaxed. "He sure stands out. Bet he gets some flak too. I wonder that people don't give him credit for making such an effort with his appearance. No, he hasn't been to see me."

"Well, if he does, Henry's is a bit of a prankster too. Feel free to refer him to me like Toby."

"Will do," Gabriel said. "Thanks for your good counsel."

"And you are coming to the meeting in the Principal's Office after school?" Gerry asked.

Gabriel nodded. "Principal Grey briefed me. Happy to help. Sounds like a spiritual vacuum needs to be filled."

"It will be good to have someone there without professional skin in the game," Gerry said "Sensitive stuff. Troubled people. Good. I'll see you there."

Gerry closed the door behind him. Gabriel Dance was dumb or playing dumb. He couldn't quite decide. And it occurred to him as he walked away that Toby's question, however much he dismissed it as a prank, might sound a little more concrete if the guys opened up at the meeting in the Principal's Office. How the fuck am I meant to play that, he thought.

 

[tamgreen]

The longer Toby wandered the halls, the more his mind churned with questions.

Is Gerry a predator?

Am I a victim? Was I always?

Did he ever love me? Does he still? Do I love him?

Will he rape me?

Should I run away?

Should I go to him? Apologize? Clean up the mess I made?

Am I crazy? Is he?

Should I tell someone, before everyone finds out from that fucking Henry?

It was well past 3pm. Toby found himself back at Gerry's office. He tried the door, but it was locked. He knocked. No answer. He listened at the door and heard nothing. He even bent down to look beneath the crack in the door, and there was no line of light suggesting anyone was in there.

Jesus - had Gerry just gone home? Had Toby been abandoned, just like that? The thought spurred panic in him, and he immediately dashed out to the parking lot, only to find Gerry's car still there. Where the hell was he?

Anxious and restless, he returned to the library, thinking Gerry might have more sessions in there today, considering the state of his office. He didn't find the man there either.

Eventually Toby had to pee, so he headed for the boys' room and stood at one of the urinals. There was a line of three, and he went with the counterintuitive option, standing at the center one instead of taking one of the ones at either end, which would have given him a buffer zone should anyone else come in. It felt like a power move, even though there was no one else here. Maybe he just wanted to feel in control of something.

He wasn't alone for long. A man entered. Toby smiled when the man was forced to stand next to him. He'd just about finished pissing, but he took his time now, toying with his cock, especially when he noticed who was here with him.

"Hi Gabriel," he said in a near whisper.

The chaplain. Talk about your fucking power moves. Could he unsettle the holy man? God forbid, get his attention? If he could get the chaplain's attention, that would have a chance of turning his day around.

"Hm," Gabriel Dance grunted, too polite to leave his greeting unanswered, but obviously not sure what to make of this unexpected and rather taboo interaction.

Toby gave his cock several unnecessary shakes, making sure to catch the man's eye. He didn't put it away. Instead he started stroking, angling his hand to make sure the man could get a good view with even the slightest sidelong glance.

"We didn't get to talk enough earlier," Toby remarked. "I want to talk about sex."

"That's... um... a perfectly normal subject for a boy your age," Gabriel replied uncertainly, his voice shaking very slightly. It didn't escape Toby's notice that he hadn't started pissing yet. He was just holding his member.

"Is this normal?" Toby chuckled, drawing more attention to his own erection. "C'mon, you're off the clock now. Just... be a guy. We're just a couple of guys, yeah? Are you having trouble peeing? It's okay. I know it's hard to piss when your cock chubs up. Are you getting hard?"

Gabriel cleared his throat. A man who wasn't interested would have already removed himself from this situation, Toby figured. Gabriel Dance was still just standing there, dick in hand, breathing shakily. Toby loved the feeling of being a temptation. This was a wonderful distraction. And maybe it was more than that. Was it vengeance? Henry Merton had stroked Gerry's cock in the library. Toby could help himself to another man's cock.

"It's just us," Toby whispered soothingly as he reached over, slowly. "Just a couple of guys. We all have dicks. We know what feels good."

His hand made contact with Gabriel's hand, and then, finally, the warm shaft beneath. The man's hand tensed at first, and then gradually relaxed and withdrew, letting it happen. Fuck... he was letting it happen. Toby wrapped his hand around the chaplain's rapidly hardening cock.

"Toby..."

"Mmm."

"This is..."

"Wrong," Toby purred. "Sooooo wrong. Jesus. I'm a teenager, Mr. Dance. I'm a student. Isn't it wrong? Of fucking course it is. And I can feel how much you love it. You think about boys, don't you, Mr. Dance? Touch a boy. Touch me. Touch an eighteen-year-old's cock."

Gabriel did. He fumbled for the boy's shaft and squeezed it, groaning with sweet, sinful pleasure.

"Fuck yeah, that's good," Toby gasped. "Say bad words - say blasphemies, and get off on it!"

"Jesus... Fucking... Christ!" Gabriel moaned as they stroked each other's erections.

Toby encouraged him along as they both got closer to release. But before either could reach that point, Toby abruptly let go of him and pulled away, quickly tucking himself back into his pants. He had to stay in control. And he still wasn't sure how far he wanted to take this. He gave the chaplain an inscrutable look as the man, stricken, stared down at him, wide-eyed, as if looking to the boy for answers regarding how any of that had just happened, or how the chips were going to fall.

"You're a bad man," Toby finally whispered, smirking.

Gabriel nodded dumbly and returned his attention to the urinal, but he still couldn't seem to piss. Instead, he did up his pants, hastily washed his hands, and fled. Toby trailed after him, now feeling a little nervous when it appeared the chaplain was headed straight for the principal's office. Was Gabriel going to tell on him?!

When the door to the office opened, Toby got a glimpse inside. A circle of chairs... several men. And Gerry!

Gabriel was trying to shut the door, looking sweaty and half panicked, but Toby pushed it open, muscling his way inside. His heart was suddenly racing at the strange, heated energy in the room, and all eyes were glued on him. His cock was still pushing out the front of his jeans. He locked eyes with Gerry. What the hell was going on in here? He was going to ask, but something else came out instead:

"That man touched me," he reported, pointing in the chaplain's direction. "He touched my cock. And I let him do it, Daddy."

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry hid in the library until it was time for the meeting. He thought about searching for Toby or Henry, or going home, or to the North Pole for that matter, but he didn't have the focus to decide which was the better option. Principal Grey let him into the office.

"So it's troubled counsellors, Gerry. You're the go-to guy in this town for trouble, so I'm relying on you to make some progress with these guys. Bit of a risk bringing them onto school grounds with their records, but it's after hours and it's a public facility. And I didn't want to book a room at the police station. Too intimidating. This is nice and safe."

Gerry sat in a chair at the far end wondering if he should have arranged coffee and cookies. And what the fuck he was supposed to say. These guys were all on furlough waiting for someone to decide if they had any future in the business. Or for someone to bring charges. All ordinary suburban guys like him, who went about their work day-in day-out without a peep until one day Kaboom! and it all went to shit. Over some hot little piece of teenage ass who couldn't keep his cock in his pants or her pussy inside her thong.

The clock ticked like a time bomb.

But he wasn't looking at it right. No matter what the kids did to provoke you, the counsellor was the adult in the room. The mature experienced sensible person. With agency. And a fear of the long arm of the law. At least these guys were the ones who'd only been caught with 18 year olds. The others were already in jail.

They drifted in after three. No one was early. It felt like they were attending a firing squad. Maybe that was next. Gerry knew them all. Mostly by sight. Some by name. He wasn't a social kinda guy. The counsellors were like any professional group. Liked to drink together, swap stories, go to the ballgame, even holiday together. Not Gerry. Kept himself to himself. Probably why he'd been picked to convene the group. No favorites. No skin in the game. Skin. Shit!

He nodded to each one. All of an age and a type. Grey trousers. White shirts. Brown jackets. Sensible shoes. Walmart. Not catalogue. Before he'd thought about how to begin the chairs were all occupied. Seven plus him. And Gabriel, wherever the fuck he'd got to.

For some reason Gerry was sweating. The room wasn't overly warm. Maybe it was too close with eight people in the space. He took off his tie and nodded so the others did the same.

"So. Gentlemen. Thank you for coming...." he said, not sure if they had any choice. Maybe the meeting was a condition of their not being reported to the police. "I don't really want to spell out what we're all here for...." Not me, he wanted to add, but that seemed mean-spirited, and not entirely accurate..."unless anyone wants to ask a question or has anything to say. No? Well, as I understand it, we're all in a spot of bother....over the usual...occupational hazard..." No that wasn't right..."contractual obligations, failures, etc...."

They all looked at him as if he was mad. Why not blame the little fuckers, put a porno on the flatscreen and jerk off together? At least that would be fun and break the ice.

Or maybe he should begin 'I, for one...', but he was in no mood for confession.

And then Gabriel entered the room.

"Gabriel Dance, everyone. Our new chaplain," Gerry announced, pleased to have anything to say which didn't involve talking about the elephant in the room.

The chaplain looked like he'd seen a ghost. Or was closing the door on the tiger pursuing him. And when he turned Gerry noticed he'd forgotten to zip up his trousers.

The door banged shut and bounced straight back as Toby burst into the room. The boy looked around, frightened, from face to face. From the bulge in his pants he was obviously erect, painfully if the manic look on his face was a clue. He stared at Gerry, wide eyed, mouth opening and shutting mechanically.

"That man touched me." Toby pointed at Gabriel. "He touched my cock. And I let him do it, Daddy."

For some reason Gerry expected pandemonium to break loose. A fight. Things breaking and smashing. But there was only complete and utter silence, except for Gabriel breathing hard somewhere behind him. It looked for all the world as if Toby was pointing at him. At Gerry. Accusing him. And he called him Daddy. For fuck's sake.

Regaining his momentum Toby pushed forward, but aimlessly, falling into Gerry's arms. A thousand ideas went through the older man's brain. 'Introduce him as my son' seemed like a workable one. But 'get him out of the room' won out.

"Out of the room, Toby," he said, holding the boy tight and trying to get a hand over his mouth. "You need to go home so we can talk about this later. I'm sure Gabriel didn't touch you or it was just a mistake."

Toby struggled against his grip, snarling, biting his fingers.

"No," Gabriel said from somewhere behind him. "He touched me. The little monster put his hand on me. In the toilets."

Gabriel was screaming now.

"Put his hand on me!"

Toby wrestled himself free. Gerry turned. Gabriel was standing against the wall, quiet now, starting to weep.

"He touched me and I'm still hard," he said.

And when Gerry looked down to where the chaplain held his cock in his hand, the man was indeed hard.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby glared balefully at Gerry, and then Gabriel, especially as the chaplain started ranting and then pathetically crying, even as he held onto his own hard-on.

"I'm the monster?" Toby exclaimed, exasperated. He planted his feet and clenched his small fists, ready to make a stand. "Not for a moment did you shy away. Not once did you say no or attempt to resist. Look at you, standing there still wanting sex from a boy, and blaming the boy for it! I'm what you want, and you hate that about yourself, so you'll just pretend to hate me, act like it's my fault."

He returned his glare to Gerry. "And you - you'll love me, and need me, and how quickly you'll turn on me! I'm disposable, Gerry, aren't I? I'm nobody, easily used, easily thrown away. You'll create a monster and then blame it for existing."

Hurt was rising up through his anger now. He turned to the group of strange, shocked men sitting in their cheap suits, staring at him.

"Is this just how men are? Is there any one of you who wouldn't throw me under the bus? Is it too much to ask to just have a Daddy? I'll give you so much. You want me? I'll give you everything. I'm tighter than your wife, and a better cocksucker. I have nothing to lose. You have everything to gain. Your fucking teen boy fucking fantasy!"

He hastily undressed, standing before them naked and hard and willing. Moments later, he dropped to his knees in front of Gabriel.

"Come on - don't bullshit me. Finish what we started. Just take what you want. You can pray for forgiveness later. You can cum anywhere you want, and if you still have to piss, I'll take that too."

The chaplain sobbed a few more times before wiping his face and stepping forward with a groan. He gripped Toby's face between his hands and thrust into the willing, open mouth. Toby gripped the base of his cock and sucked the rest hungrily, not caring if this was the end for him. If he went down cocksucking, he could hardly regret it. For now, having an audience was making him even harder.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry was too stunned to speak. Or intervene. Or do anything besides stand and watch. Toby was naked, kneeling before the chaplain, the kid's firm ass clenched on his upturned feet, and his head held tightly between Gabriel's hands, the older man pumping his cock between the boy's lips. Gabriel was totally focused on what was going on before him, eyes down, grunting, holding the boy tight as if preventing his escape.

Gerry looked round the room. No one had spoken, no one challenged him, or Toby, or Gabriel. The other men simply sat quietly in the Principal's office watching a school chaplain face fuck a student as if that had been the agenda all along. And as the fucking continued and Gabriel grew louder and more pneumatic, one by one the men in the room took their cocks out of their trousers and stroked themselves.

Gerry was hard too. Toby's rage was as stimulating as his actions. The counsellor imagined each man might fuck Toby's face in turn until it was just Gerry left, just the kid's Daddy to provide the final eruption of sperm into the kid's mouth. Is that what they all wanted? Is that what Toby wanted?

Gabriel was punching the kid's face now, hard and deep, ramming in as far as his balls and holding tight as if waiting for the kid to gag. Toby seemed to have gone limp, just perched on his haunches, letting the man twist and turn his head, and use his face without resistance. The guy from Central High, who maybe knew Toby, kicked off his shoes, stood up, let his trousers fall to the ground and stepped out of them.

"Fuck Gerry," he said. "You don't know how long I've wanted to stick my cock into this little shit. Toby fucking Keller." He winked at Gerry and stepped over closer to the chaplain and the boy as if claiming the right to go next.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby's eyes reflexively filled with tears as the chaplain, the holy man, grabbed his face and shoved his cock mercilessly down his throat. Punishing him, probably, for being a monster. For being a temptation. Toby the monster - how dare he be so fuckable. Toby's wet eyes pointed up at the chaplain, almost challenging him, glaring at him through the blowjob as if to say, Was this what you wanted? Are you pleased with yourself? Are you sure I'm the monster here?

He heard the voice behind him and knew it was familiar, but he couldn't place it. Who - who had been wanting to stick their cock into him? He couldn't wait to find out.

Thanks to the vigor with which Gabriel was skull fucking him, Toby didn't have long to wait - abruptly the chaplain was howling and pumping cum down his throat. Halfway through his climax, he ripped his cock free and Toby immediately gagged. He felt the heat of final few spurts of cum splash across his face and drip down to his chest before he was dropped unceremoniously to the floor.

Unwilling to play the victim despite his vociferous refusal to accept responsibility, Toby pulled himself back to his knees, wiping a mess of tears and cum from his face with the back of his wrist. He blinked several times and cleared his throat as he crawled to the next man who was waiting for him.

"Jesus," he whispered, finally recognizing the counsellor from his old school, Central. He smirked up at the man as he reached for the cock the man was taking out of his pants: "I always knew you were a sicko, Mr. Grant."

Chris Grant was pushing middle age, a fair bit younger than Gerry but balding, with glasses that made him look intelligent and studious. He looked like a nonthreatening dad type, but Toby always had a weird vibe that something was not quite right with the guy. Of course, Toby had provoked him, as he provoked everyone, maybe just trying to prove that none of them really gave a fuck. Maybe none of them did. They sure wanted to fuck, though, and maybe that was close enough for now.

"Stick your cock in me - go ahead," he urged. "Shut me the fuck up."

Counsellor Grant did so. He wasn't as rough as the chaplain. He seemed to want to savor the sensation of his shaft sliding past the eighteen-year-old's lips as Toby gazed up at him with his big, teary doe eyes.

Another man approached, a hard, thick cock bobbing in Toby's field of vision. Toby reached for it and stroked as he slurped on Chris Grant's cock. They all wanted a piece of Toby, and Toby would give them one.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry watched the chaplain cum in a howl of semen into the boy's mouth, across his face and down his chest, before the man dropped the boy onto the floor. The Central High counsellor stepped up, cock hard in his hand. Toby called the guy by his name as he took the cock in his mouth. Grant. Chris Grant. Gerry knew him by reputation. He'd written the school district policy handbook to which Gerry had responded. The chapter headings were flashing through Gerry's mind as he watched the man face fuck the teen. Ethics. Child Protection. Personal Responsibility. Gerry wondered how many kids Chris Grant had fucked before...before a shadow fell on him and he found himself assigned to this group.

Grant was fucking Toby with much more care than the chaplain. After saying he wanted to stick his cock in the little shit, Gerry expected this episode to be a rough one as well. But Grant was using Toby's head slowly and sensually, a text book case of enjoying a fuck and thinking about your partner as well. Had Toby sucked Chris Grant's cock before?

The man turned to Gerry and winked again. "I like your boy," he said. Your boy? Well, Toby had called Gerry Daddy. It didn't take much to put two and two together.

Gerry couldn't help but smile. Grant was good at this. He'd obviously thought about what he wanted from a face fuck and had complete control of himself. The next guy would have to be patient.

Indeed, the next guy whispered in Gerry's ear. He almost jumped in surprise.

"You know," the man said...it was the guy from Roosevelt High, almost retirement age, but still fit, tall and silver haired and the hint of a chest tattoo at the top of his buttoned shirt. He too had slipped out of his trousers to stroke himself...."I've always wanted to stick my tongue into an asshole. Open up the bud wide with my fingers and lean into it, bury my face and just stretch out my tongue...." The guy shivered. "My wife won't let me do it. And that stupid slut wouldn't come across either. Not that they really believed her when she said I'd propositioned her in my office...."

Gerry looked at him more closely. He smiled evilly at Grant and Toby, the slow face fuck reaching a climax. Grant put his head back and moaned as he came across Toby's lips.

"Bill Goodluck," the man said, taking a hand away from his two-handed stroking and holding it out for Gerry to shake. "Roosevelt. You know, I didn't want to attend today, but you sure put on a good show here at Fillmore."

 

[tamgreen]

Toby appreciated Mr. Grant being more careful with him, and he showed his appreciation in the extra effort he put into the blowjob, paying close attention to man's reactions and working his tongue accordingly. His hands roamed, reaching beneath the man's clothes and caressing him as if they'd been lovers instead of adversaries.

Pausing to see who belonged to the new voice, Toby looked up at the older man, his hands continuing its work on Grant's cock while he checked out the silver daddy from Roosevelt. He grinned in response to Goodluck's fantasy.

"I thought this was my show," he retorted sassily, flashing Gerry a brief take that! glare before popping his ass up as high as he could get it while still able to suck off Grant.

"I fucking love a tongue up my ass," he purred. "You want it, you horny perv? Take it. Or would it be more fun if I pretended I didn't want it?"

 

[ericrodman101]

"Hmmmm." Goodluck contemplated the choice Toby posed. "More fun if you resist..."

Gerry couldn't tell how close Grant was to cumming, despite the kid's remarkably sensual execution of the blowjob. It was a lesson in taking things slow. And of making the most of it. Grant kept making eye contact with Gerry and winking. And then called the chaplain over, although Dance ignored him. Shame, Gerry imagined, as the chaplain skulked, eyes to the wall.

"Hold his hips for me, Gerry," Goodluck said, "while I spread his legs. Let's pretend he doesn't want it like it was my idea all along."

The older man slapped Toby hard on the ass, causing Grant to look sour as the kid's teeth nipped him somewhere sensitive. Gerry did as the man wanted. He might have thought it through ordinarily, but the whole meeting had descended into an unimaginable shitshow and thinking just hurt his brain. He took hold of Toby's hips almost as if he was watching someone else do it, and Goodluck knelt down behind the teen, planting his face between the pale, scrawny ass cheeks.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby didn't have to pretend too much at first. As soon as Gerry took hold of his hips, he grunted and squirmed in protest. He didn't want to involve Gerry in his fun right now. He wanted to rub it in the man's face.

The aggressive tongue suddenly driving at his tender little hole, however, coaxed him away from his vengeful attitude. He growled against Grant's cock and gave his hips a wriggle - a semblance of protest, to keep the man excited. He clenched hard, trying to keep the older man's tongue from entering him as he squealed, and that just made Goodluck's attempts more zealous, which excited both of them.

As Goodluck redoubled his efforts, Toby likewise redoubled his on Mr. Grant's cock, and the man was starting to moan.

"Fuck," the man groaned, "suck that cock, kid. Take it, you little shit. Make up for all the trouble you've caused. That's right... that's right... you're gonna get it right in that smartass little face!"

Grant suddenly pulled out with a grunt and aimed his cock at Toby's face, painting him like a glazed donut. By this time, the boy could sense the shadows of other men standing over him, gathering one by one. He had to shut his eyes to avoid getting cum in them, but he could tell Mr. Grant was getting shouldered aside by one of the others, who got down to attack Toby's face with a tongue as hungry as Goodluck's, lapping at every trace of cum and then pressing inside his mouth with all the enthusiasm of a dog cleaning out a peanut butter jar. He was practically choked with the stranger's tongue as the other forced its way up his other end.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry knew he shouldn't have touched Toby as soon as he felt the kid recoil under his hands. This was Toby's show, the whole filthy gangbang. The kid was showing him something...something like 'you're a fucking old pervert Uncle Gerry and I can fuck your friends in front of you'. Except they weren't his friends and none of this was planned and...Jesus, what a fucking mess.

He didn't know the guy kissing Toby. The guy was younger than most of the guys in the room, maybe the chaplain's age, maybe mid thirties. Most of the guys had slipped off their trousers to jerk off, or just flopped out their cocks, but this guy was naked, pressing his face up to Toby's cum-splattered visage, oblivious to Chris Grant who was still seated where he'd fucked Toby's mouth, and not looking too impressed. And Bill Goodluck was busy at Toby's rear end, tongue fucking the kid, stretching and grinding and moaning.

It occurred to Gerry to make sure the door was locked. And the drapes drawn. Both were secure when he checked. He wondered who'd locked the door. Unless it was Toby himself, the fucking little schemer.

When he turned back the new guy had inserted his cock in Toby's mouth and was dancing a jig of sorts, swivelling his naked hips and waving his arms like this was Mardi Gras. Goodluck had disengaged his tongue and was now positioning his cock behind Toby's ass, the first anal entry of the night if Gerry was remembering it all. He wondered if anyone needed lube. And then wondered why it was his problem. His fucking problem. If anyone needed lube then they could fucking deal with it. Why the fuck, he thought, do I have to solve everyone's problems?

 

[tamgreen]

None of this was planned. Not a bit of it. What he'd done at the urinals with the chaplain had evened the score and then some, but what was Toby doing now? If someone sat him down and asked him point blank, he could sit there a week and not come up with an answer. He'd followed Gabriel here mainly in hopes of keeping a lid on things, but instead it had escalated, hard and fast. Hard and fast, just like the men on either end of him, getting their kicks.

He wanted to blame Gerry for this, but he couldn't. He'd made his bed, however unintentionally, and now he was lying in it.

And there was a cock pushing for entry up his backdoor - some fucking stranger's fucking cock fucking him. Was this what he was - just some no-standards disgusting slut who'd bend over for any willing cock at any time or place? Was that hot, or was it just gross, or at best, desperately tragic?

He wasn't sure he wanted some strange guy to fuck him. He hadn't been given the option. And now Toby was a little scared - he'd offered to pretend to resist, and being inexperienced and having no opportunity to think this through, he was now left with no means of communicating genuine protest.

His face was busy with the cock of the man who'd licked him as enthusiastically as he was now fucking his mouth, but Toby's eyes rolled back, looking for Gerry. Would the man intervene if he knew Toby was in over his head?

But the boy knew it wasn't fair of him to expect it. This was his fault, and his alone. He'd just have to ride it out and make the best of it. He grunted loudly as Goodluck's cock drove aggressively into him, and tried not to bite down on the cock in his mouth.

There were other shadows around him. The unmistakable sound of fapping from every direction. Heavy breathing. Curses. Encouragements. Someone was repeatedly saying, "That's right, son," in an incongruously soothing tone. Elsewhere, maybe something like a soft sobbing? Was the holy man still lamenting his sin? Jesus.

Toby leaned into it, making himself available for each man, for whatever they wanted. Some of them rubbed their cocks on him, some reached beneath him to touch his, and some just stood back to watch him get spit roasted. Now and then, he felt a warm splash across some bare part of him - a roomful of strange men shooting their loads on him. He was a bona fide cum dumpster now.

And speaking of spit, the one face fucking him finished by cumming straight down his throat, and then immediately spitting on his face and in his mouth. Toby opened wide and took it without complaint - wasn't it what he deserved?

 

[ericrodman101]

It was just like one of the pornos which Gerry liked to watch. Boy for Sale. Twink Gangbang. Daddies and Twinks. Only a week ago that's what Gerry did for sexual pleasure, watched pornos, watched teens, twinks being fucked, being handed around rooms full of older men like him who fucked twinks in every hole, two or three at a time, turning the boys over, handing them from one man to the next, using them like toys, dolls, masturbation aids, just something warm and soft and compliant to fuck, to cum in and on, to satisfy their most basic sexual needs, to make them hard, to make them cum...and for guys like Gerry, lonely and alone, something missing in their lives, some great fantasy, an unscratched itch finally being scratched in the dark, in front of the flickering screen, cumming in his hand like the guys on screen were cumming over the back or into the ass or mouth of the twink they were using and controlling and possessing and obliterating.

But this was real. Not a film. Really happening before his eyes, in the Principal's office at Fillmore High in the state of....Jesus!

Gerry realised he had his cock out, hard in his hands. He wasn't sure how long he'd been stroking himself. Toby was trying hard to make eye contact. Gerry nodded back, trying not to smile, just to acknowledge. Toby was like the twinks in the films he watched. He was doing all those things. Fucking and sucking and being fucked and sucked and spunked in and on and over. Twisting and turning, opening his mouth and his ass. Doing whatever the men in the room desired. Whatever made them hard and happy and satisfied. And without a camera and an agent and a contract to satisfy, because the kids in the films must have had those. No, what was happening in the Principal's Office was happening because Toby wanted it to happen. Because he liked it. Desired it. Yeah, that was it....right?

Gerry watched Toby being handed around from man to man. Sometimes the kid had his feet on the floor, sometimes he was carried aloft. They twisted his skinny body, turned him over and back again, grabbed his head or his ass, used it, switched ends and used it again, simply took advantage of whatever orifice they found in front of their cocks or their mouths. They slid their cocks inside the teen, pumped him, pulled his head onto their cocks, sucked his cock into their mouths, filled him with their cocks or their hands or their tongues, over and over....

Sometimes it felt to Gerry like everything was happening in slow motion, a slow rolling melange of naked bodies, arms, legs, faces, cocks, configuring and reconfiguring in a pornographic dumbshow carefully choreographed by an unseen director. And at other times it sped along, uncontrollably erotic and frenzied, whimpering, heavy breathing, cocks pumping mouths and asses faster and faster, cum spraying, tongues licking, mouths sucking, thighs spreading, asses winking....

God, oh fucking God, Gerry was so hard and ready to cum....

 

[tamgreen]

It didn't take long for Toby to lose track of the number of cocks that had entered him. He was a pair of holes and had no other value than that. He glazed over and made himself the pliable, fuckable fantasy they wanted. He had no idea they had come here to be treated for their illicit temptations and addictions - they were getting help, certainly, but in the opposite way intended. The men craved an outlet and they had one, using it over and over until none of them had any more to give.

The room reeked of sweat and sex and eventually the only sound was a symphony of heavy breaths, struggling to recover from the workout. Toby was aching, breathless, broken, and caked with congealed cum. Even his nipples were throbbing from the pinching and twisting, and his cock from all the grabbing and stroking. He wasn't even sure if he'd cum or not, but he was hard. Sore and hard.

The filthy, used boy was sprawled out on his back in the middle of the floor, barely able to sit up. He rubbed his eyes weakly and blinked until he could see again. Gerry was standing near him, cock in the air, twitching with need. Was Gerry not among those who'd fucked him? He wouldn't have known. Maybe he'd gotten the message loud and clear that Toby hadn't wanted him to be part of this.

This had nothing to do with you, part of him wanted to snarl.

But the rest of him said, I did this for you.

And that strange mix of horror, outrage, self-loathing, and euphoria was rising in him, just like after the dirty cop in the shed. He'd done this, he'd endured it, and he was hard, and wasn't that clear enough? Weakly he rolled himself over and raised his bruised, sloppy backside to Gerry.

"C'mon, Daddy," he croaked out. "C'mon."

An odd dreamy smile appeared on his face as he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Hey... Mr. Dance still needs to piss," he whispered suggestively.

 

[ericrodman101]

Used and spent, lying on the floor covered in the cum of every guy but him, Gerry looked at Toby with admiration and awe. What a fuck! What a cute little guy! He felt his cock twisting in his hand, almost as if it was about to go on a frolic of its own, out of his control. It wanted to fuck Toby, he wanted to fuck Toby. Everyone else had fucked Toby. But did Toby want to fuck him?

"C'mon," Toby was saying, nearly imperceptibly. C'mon to whom? "C'mon, Daddy...." Did Gerry hear right?

The kid rolled over, leaving a slick on the floorboards. "C'mon....," lifting his ass high, the effort nearly killing Gerry emotionally as much as it must be tough for the kid. Gerry wanted to kiss him, hold him, tight, cuddle him, thank him for being such a good boy, so selfless, so giving, so receptive, so generous....his cock was drawn to Toby's ass, pulling him down, closer...

He watched Toby turn his head and look back over his shoulder. The noises of grunting and breathlessness faded into the background. Maybe the other guys were jerking off. Maybe they were fucking each other. Maybe they were watching the last fuck unfold. Gerry didn't much care. He looked down at Toby's dozy face, strangers' cum sloshed across his eyes and nose and mouth, matted in his hair, glistening on his chin and between his shoulders. And then down the neat, gentle curve of his teen back to the cleft between his buttocks, and the red asshole, gaping between Toby's spread legs from the obscene workout it had received courtesy of his colleagues.

Gerry knelt between Toby's legs, spat on his hands, then rubbed them around the pool of cum in the small of Toby's back. He took the goo and transferred it to the kid's asshole, massaging gently round the rim and inside, working the sphincter, not as tight as he'd known it, but still inviting inspection and exploration and penetration.

The kid was saying something about the chaplain wanting to piss, but Gerry wasn't listening. He placed a hand under the kid and levered him up a little, then lowered himself against the kid's buttocks, his cock homing in on the asshole like a missile to its target. The older man let his cock head tease the boy's red star, tipping lightly against the bruised flesh and pulling back, before sinking it in, sliding past the outer rim of the hole, overcoming the gentle resistance, popping the seal, and gliding inside.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby grunted weakly at first, his much abused asshole putting up an initial protest of yet another invasion after so many, and with such aggression, but Gerry would hardly notice. The only sign of his body's disagreement was the flare of pain around his reddened opening, and then up his inflamed canal.

Shhh, he silently soothed his body. Shhhh. This is what you need. This is what you're for.

"Daddy," he murmured vaguely, in the tone of a small child talking in his sleep, half muffled by the way his cheek was pressed against the dirty floor. If it ended like this, he supposed he wouldn't have too many regrets. Ass up, face down, glaze of cum inside and out, a knot of horny men - most of them strangers - leering at him as he collapsed on the floor of the principal's office, coaxed into place like a well used sex doll and seemingly perpetually ready to receive cocks in any hole. Any cocks, all the cocks.

But Daddy especially - his lover, counsellor, teacher, father, owner, and sometimes tormentor. He was no hero, and perhaps this spontaneous orgy at school proved it as much as the man's near rape of him this morning, but Toby was no star student, and never a son a parent could be proud of. He was a disposable delinquent, easily dropped through society's cracks. Maybe they deserved each other, the two fucked up, neglected specimens that they were.

Had he forgiven Gerry? Maybe, maybe not. He couldn't say whether he'd be livid at the man, or even afraid of him, once the high of all this had died down, but for now there was peace between them, and he could at least offer the old man his sloppy ass so long as everyone else was fucking it. He closed his eyes and let it happen, too spent to participate in any way but at least giving no objection.

 

[ericrodman101]

Gerry held Toby tight as they fucked. The kid put up little resistance as the older man ploughed his anus with his cock. Gerry knew Toby must be hurting after being used by so many men and he was softer and more gentle than he might otherwise have been. But the boy's mewing and sighing was enough to tell him that he was tender inside. And yet Toby's very vulnerability and helplessness was a spur to Gerry's lust. So it would be a soft fuck, a long slow fuck, even if they were lying together on the rug in the Principal's Office with a group of men watching everything. Gerry still meant to enjoy himself.

"Good boy," he whispered, his face against Toby's head. "Good little baby boy." Toby mewed again in response, raising his ass a little to ease Gerry's deep slow thrusting. He could sense how close were the other men, gathered around, eyes on the two. He imagined their cocks out, hard in their hands, maybe not cumming a second time, but stroking, rubbing themselves raw, dragging at the hard flesh of their sex tools, willing a second orgasm.

And then Chris Grant was speaking in his ear.

"Roll him over, Gerry. Roll the little shit over. Onto your back and the kid on his back on top of you. He'll be so fucking loose, Gerry after we've all been inside him. I want to double penetrate his little boy cunt. You and me, both inside him. Two fat cocks splitting the little shit in two. Yeah?"

Gerry felt Grant's fingers on his cock, then pushing inside Toby's ass. It was tight, but not so tight as to prevent entry. Like Grant said. Toby was loose. Two cocks. Double penetration. Double anal. Like the pornos he watched at home in the dark with his cock out. The twinks being double penetrated by daddies. Groaning and crying and writhing and squirming. The thoughts made him harder. He punched himself into Toby. The kid moaned.

 

[tamgreen]

Toby was ready to close his eyes and sleep for a long time, but he remained conscious enough to have at least a partial understanding of what was happening to him.

Gerry fucking him - that was good. The old man was being nice about it. He was raw and hurting but it was still nice. It was right. He wanted to stay in the game until everyone was satisfied. This was what he was for. A cock in him, and then more - a finger, joining the cock? Toby whimpered.

And then he was moving. On his back, with Gerry's soft, warm body beneath him. Another man leaning over him. Mr. Grant?

"Oh..." he murmured vaguely, realizing belatedly what had just been proposed. "Ohhh..."

His legs flopped to the side, and Mr. Grant pushed them way up, getting him spread nice and wide to see Gerry disappearing inside his sloppy cunt.

Two fat cocks splitting the little shit in two.

Yeah - that. Split him in two.

Toby said nothing. He just pressed his cheek against Gerry, spread wide, and squealed as he felt a level of pressure down below well beyond anything he'd known previously.

 

[ericrodman101]

Feeling Chris Grant's fingers probing Toby in the same hole where Gerry was already fucking the kid was wildly counter intuitive and just as wildly arousing. Toby wasn't objecting. Should I ask, Gerry wondered through a confusing haze of lust? 'Roll the little shit over,' his colleague had said. Gerry complied. He and the boy changed position, through one eighty degrees, on the floor, holding tight, his cock still deep inside the teen who moaned and groaned, whimpering like a puppy.

Gerry was on his back now and could look past Toby's head. Chris Grant smiled. Did Toby have his eyes open, Gerry wondered? He nibbled the boy's ear, murmuring soothing noises, telling him softly he was a good boy, 'my good baby boy', he said, conscious that he wasn't asking if Toby consented, if he was hurting, if he wanted to be fucked by two bigger men. But then, Gerry realized he didn't want to stop. Double penetration. Fucking Jesus! Who ever imagined I'd be fucking a kid with another guy, not spit roasting, but two fucking cocks fucking a kid in the same fucking hole. Fuck!

He watched, still thrusting gently, as Chris knelt between their legs, pulling them apart, hands on Gerry's calves, then Toby's, his legs floppy, spread wide. Gerry imagined how they looked like that to the other men in the room, daddy's cock spearing into baby boy's red, used hole, ass juice and cum and spit seeping down his organ to the floor maybe. And then Chris's fingers again, spitting noisily, then on his cock, around the shaft, pushing and probing, opening the kid, so much pleasure, so much pain, so much....sheer fucking pornographic obscenity.

Toby pressed his cheek onto Gerry's. Chris was smiling, licking his lips. Gerry could just make out the man's hand on his cock, guiding himself into Toby's ass, the cock against his now, warm and hard, not frictionless. Fuck, how he wished he carried lube. But then, that was like packing a weapon in a school. What teacher carried lube? What sort of pervert...

Chris found room and punched into the boy, much harder than Gerry had been fucking him. Toby winced, cried out, a squeal which grew in volume.

"Squeal like a pig, you little shit," Chris said. Gerry could see the sneer on the man's face. Chris smiled at him round the boy's head. "Split you in two, you fucking little cunt. Fuck!" Chris threw his head back and screamed nearly as wildly as Toby was yelling.

Gerry was horrified. And deeply aroused. He'd never felt so hard, so bereft of sense and reason and control. "Fucking split you in two, kiddo," he said to Toby, louder than a whisper.