Blacklist

Author's Disclaimer: The author has created fictitious persons in an effort to tell a story and as such does not reflect any actual person real or fake, living or dead. As always feel free to submit fan mail and constructive criticism to the provided e-mail address. You can now follow me on Twitter: @TheScribeXXX.

Alert, Incest Warning: this story contains hardcore M/M incest scenes. If you are offended by such material, please stop reading.

Brenton heard the phone ring as he stepped out of the shower. His lithe, six foot, twenty-nine year old body was firm, supple and boasted a firm, tawdry swimmer's build. In fact, he had been training to be a swimmer his entire life up until The Great Revelation three years ago. When that happened, he stopped going out as much... stopped interacting with people, stopped caring. He became nervous, withdrawn, and mostly a shut-in, spending most of his time working on other hobbies that he found on the net or whacking it to lesbian porn. The half black, half white stud would spend hours planted in front of the computer, beating his long, girthy meat to chicks making out with one another, all from the comfort of his study. The biracial hunk noticed an up-tick in his sex drive right around the time he surrendered his clothes to a homeless shelter a few miles from his rent-controlled apartment. He thought it odd that he was suddenly horny at all hours of the day but was too scared to go to a doctor. He had read the horror stories that abounded on the Blacklister subreddit and wanted no part of that foolishness. It was inhuman what it was that they did to those men and it should've been illegal too. Sadly, the court cases involving charges against the physicians, what few there were, were always thrown out due to vague kink subsections in the laws themselves. No one ever really died and true there were no lasting marks or physical scarring, for some odd reason, bit still the savagery continued. These facts made those cases difficult to pursue, assuming one could find a lawyer willing to take the case to begin with. Still the fact of the matter remained that the victims were left with psychological scars that lasted ages. Those that entered those chamber of horrors did so with the understanding of "buyer beware."

The naked man had just finished drying off when he had heard the phone start ringing again. His towel rubbed against his meat, sending a hint of lust into him before he dropped it. He raced into what should've been a kitchen, but was nothing more than a stove, a blender, and a refrigerator stuffed with a glutton of meal shake options. The banning of solid foods was one of the earliest amendments to be sent through after a week of the New World Order and the ratification of the Blacklist Laws. Brenton missed solid foods, but these at least had flavor to them, unlike the previous year's model. After finishing off the tasteless ones, the naked biracial hunk immediately ran out and bought the ones with flavor just like most every other Blacklister in the United States. He remembered waiting in line at the grocery store, beating his meat as he waited for his turn to pay. A Blacklister himself, the cashier was getting porked by his boss and the eighteen year old seemed to enjoy it. This sexually charged encounter had sent Brenton into a fury of faps as he milked himself silly. Another ring of the phone snapped him back into the moment; he answered it without reading the caller ID. "Hiya, champ," it was his father.

Brenton chuckled, "dad, I'm too old for that nickname." A few water droplets still remained and crashed onto the pristine white carpeting below.

"I know, I know, force of habit," his dad apologized to his son. "Anyway, I got an invitation from Uncle Owen for the biannual family reunion this weekend. There's a free plane ticket in it for you if you go." Brenton thought about the offer and what all that meant. His dad, and by extension his dad's family, were all white folk from the great state of Alabama. Growing up, Brenton had often wondered what it was that drove his mom and dad together. Was it money? After all Brenton's mom was a prominent heart surgeon and one of the few women of color in her field, not to mention the best in her field. Was it lust? His father was a football captain when they met at U.A.B. while his mom was interning there. He had come into her ER when he had suffered from a sports related injury. Then again, it had to be something else... something that neither parent had expected: love. It was love that drove them together. It was love that made them marry and it was love that created Brenton. That, and the fact that their relationship seemed to upset both sides of their respective families. Still, for all its faults, Brenton never truly knew that his dad's family detested him and his mom until their last family reunion. True, his grandparents loved him, but for the whole and most of it the rest of the family only tolerated the mom and son at best. Brenton thought about the offer again briefly.

"That depends..." Brenton softly replied.

"On what?"

"Do they know?"

"Know what?"

"Do they know that I've been blacklisted? Do they know that I can't wear clothes ever again? Do they know that I'm a forced nudist?" Brenton's genitals stirred slightly at the admission that he had just made. He wondered if he would have to whack off soon and how many ejaculations would soothe his feral beast. The image of him fapping to lesbian porn entered into his head. If he didn't gain control, he might actually have to hang up on his dad and blow a fat wad. He remained mute as the questions filled the line pushing out the silence that had tried to take over.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, his dad replied with, "of course I've told them. I kinda had to in order for them to grant you the invite. I mean, if I didn't, it might have been very awkward for you to show up without anything on you other than a wrist watch and a pair of sneakers. So, whatdaya say? Are you in?"

Brenton shifted his weight around as he contemplated his response. Even though his dad had told the rest of the family about his newly mandated lifestyle, there were bound to be questions. That was just human nature: the questions... lots of questions, whole swaths of questions. But, would they be the right ones? Would they be ones that furthered the discussion of whether or not that this existence was entirely inappropriate and without merit? Would they open a course of dialog that would shift public opinion on his mandated nudity? Or would they end up being the other kind? Would they be the crass, lewd, and bigoted kind? The ones that often served to keep him and his people oppressed. The naked biracial stud already knew the answer to his questions before his family would even ask them. Still, perhaps there were one or two people there open to some form of change. And maybe... maybe that would be enough. "I'll do it," Brenton replied as his heart, like his cock, soon filled with hope. Well, he didn't have hope in his cock as he so much had boner filling lust.

"Ok, great, and don't worry - I gotcha if and when things get too rough."

"Sure thing dad," Brenton readied to disconnect the call in favor of shifting his attention to his inflating meat balloon.

"Oh and hey buddy?"

"Yeah dad?"

"It'd probably be a good idea to wear the collar and cuffs. You know, the good ones your mom sent you last year. We want to make this adjustment as easy for the family as possible."

"Uhhhhh," Brenton nervously replied, "sure thing dad. I guess that sounds ok." Brenton wasn't worried about alienating the family so much as he was nervous as to what might happen when he did wear them. Then again, they were family after all. A hard throb from his stiffening member reminded him of what he needed to do after he hung up.

He decided that he was about to earn this moment of passion and that an ejaculation would be an entirely justified reward. He couldn't make it more than three paces away from the counter and towards his computer before he started fervently slapping his dongle. He stood in his living room, barely in front of his couch and TV, his hand sliding up and down the crotch viper. "Ohhhhhhh," he moaned as erotic sensations electrified his manly body. He shifted his prick into a right angle, making sure that his cock-snot would land on the carpeting below. Once a week he would pay to have a Blacklister friendly cleaning crew come in and power wash his carpets, drapes, and other fabrics. They would use the Nutara to scrub out all of the jism that he'd created in his day-to-day erotic agitations. If he didn't get his place cleaned, the whole place would stink of rotted semen and then he'd never get anything done. Luckily the company was owned and run by a group of fellow Blacklisters like himself. He wondered if they worked in Non-Blacklister clients' homes and what that meant for their own safety. Brenton had on more than one occasion caught a crew member leaking fluid out of his ass. He didn't say anything as he felt it might be rude and too personal. So, instead he just let it slide. "Oh, oh, OH," wait, was he really blowing his wad to the notion of semen leaking out another dude's rectum? What did that - "OH GOD IN HEAVEN ABOVE, YES!" Ropes of ejaculate sprayed across the floor, dousing his carpet in another dose of his hot, creamy, fresh man chowder. It splattered on the ground barely missing the flat-screen and the coffee table with lesbian porn displayed out in the open. Twenty-three seconds whizzed by as soon his fun came to an end. He stood straight back up as he had hunched over during the purge. Brenton looked down at the mess on the carpet, shrugged his shoulders, and walked away, while chalking it up to another job for the cleaning crew to deal with later.

When they arrived at the airport the next morning, Brenton was relieved to find that ha and his dad had more than an hour to get through the airport. "If people thought that the TSA was bad before," Brenton thought, "then they should try to imagine being a Blacklister and having to go through it." The naked fellow had done as his father instructed and wore the shimmering silk cuffs and collar just as instructed. Each of the cuffs were wrapped expertly around their appropriate appendage and were held in place by a diamond studded cufflink. "Heck, even the collar's hook was fancy," the nudist thought as he mused on the image of the golden topaz button that held the neckline in place. After checking his dad's luggage, Brenton followed his father, making sure to maintain a low profile, or rather as low as Brenton could, as they made their way through great throngs of people. There were people of all types and all ages in various states of dress and activity. He walked by a naked husband and his seemingly loving wife. He marveled at the sight of a nudist airline pilot and his clothed crewmates walking alongside him and his bouncing boy basher. There were even undressed blacklisted protestors sitting on the ground with a sign that said, "circle jerk for freedom." He wondered if that sign had the same effect that they had intended. "Oh well," Brenton shrugged, "not my problem." He and his dad passed two men as they were going at it like wild dogs while standing up against the wall, rutting their brains out. A few "oh I missed you so much," pants cemented that they were lovers, with the pale skinned man's pants around his ankles. Yes, they were all here: his people! Each one of them naked, horny, and engaging in some sort of act of carnality to one degree or another. The twenty-nine year old nudist and his dad arrived at the check-in point with time to spare. It was up to fate to decide if Brenton had packed appropriately or not.

This time, the TSA agent was a slender, wide hipped lady with an ample bosom. She had long, flowing chestnut brown hair, and full, pouty lips that had been highlighted with a shiny red lip gloss. When she spoke, it sounded like chocolate and honey straight from their sources. "Goodday," she melted Brenton's heart and made his prick skip a beat. "How are y'all doing," she even had a Southern accent to boot.

Brenton's father, Jared, smiled at the TSA worker as he handed her their boarding passes, "just fine, dahrlin', just fine indeed. How are you doin' suge?" Normally Jared didn't sound all that Southern, but when the ladies came out, it was all charm and over-the-top accents.

"Well I am as happy as a June bug in a carpet in the middle of winter."

"Oh really? Is that so?"

"Indeed it is; now where are two handsome strapping men such as y'alls-sevles headed off to?" She asked the question as if she didn't already know just by looking at the boarding passes.

"Well my son and I are off to see my side of the family. It's been about twenty years since we've seen hide nor hair of them and I reckoned it was time we fixed that."

"Really? Well I'll be; don't that just beat all? I would've sworn you two were just brothers. You look far too young to be father and son."

"Well, I thank you mighty kindly, ma'am. That makes me feel warmer than a platter of fresh biscuits right out of the oven." Jared tipped his stetson to the lady, "come along junior." Brenton followed in his father's wake and approached the metal detector. Jared put his laptop bag on the conveyor just before stepping through the metal detector. The older man turned around as the TSA worker ran his wand up and down Jared's aged form. As the wand effortlessly glided over the air surrounding Jared, the man made a kissing face at the naked Latino TSA agent. The Blacklister pulled back briefly with a look of disgust before calling for Brenton to go through the arch. The non-blacklisted worker stepped from behind the controls of the x-ray machine and looked down at what Brenton had dropped into the plastic tray, making sure it was all Blacklister approved equipment. He then picked up a small, translucent red plastic stick that had been sealed in a beige plastic box up to eye level that had been plopped into the container.

The textile clad agent eyed Brenton briefly, before asking his question. "Sir..."

Brenton raised his left eyebrow, "yes?"

"What's this?"

"Uhhhh... my toothbrush?"

"Ok, then what's this," the man reached into the container and fished out a small cloth square that had been folded over. "Not trying to cover up, now, are we?"

"Noooooo... that's my wallet."

"Cause if you were, I'd have to report it - immediately!"

"Oh Frank," it was the Southern belle again, "just let the kid go. You can clearly see he's only wearing the approved bodily accessories."

"Ohhhh alright Issa," Frank dropped the wallet and the toothbrush back into the bucket and sent it through the x-ray machine. "I was only funnin' the boy, honest."

"Well not everyone gets your sense of humor, Frank." Brenton spun around as the nude TSA agent ran the wand over him, despite having no place to store weapons. The biracial hunk had just gotten off lightly as some guys were publicly checked for weapons that could be stored in their anal cavity. This check was most often performed when the person holding the scanner was a Non-Blacklister and the recipient was a Blacklister. However, The Fates smiled on Brenton at that moment and made sure to allow him to pass un-marred. It was going to be another thirty minutes of sitting and waiting before he and his father would board the plane. After that, it would be just over an hour in the metal contraption before they landed at the Mobile International Airport. Then it would be just a hop, skip and a leap before they were at the hotel closest to where the reunion was.

Shortly after settling down in their leather cushioned lounge chairs, Brenton heard something that made his blood run cold. "OH GOD, NOOOOOO," a man shrieked at the top of his lungs. Brenton immediately perked right up and looked around for the source of the scream. After searching for the man, he was confused as to why no one else seemed to notice. "NO - NOOOO - DON'T, PLEASE DON'T! NOT IN FRONT OF MY WI- AHHHHH-HAHAHHA!" Brenton twisted his head around like a meerkat poking its head out of its hole on the African plains. He was stunned to see men and women doing nothing to aid or investigate. They were just sitting there, carrying on with their lives as though it were just a normal, everyday occurrence. In fact, for many - if not all - it most likely was. People had gotten used to the blood curdling cries of innocent men being violated. They had grown accustomed to the brutality of day-to-day living in a dystopian hellscape. Not even the children seemed to cry or blink at the man as he begged for his attacker to let him go. In fact, it was only the babies that cried and they were most likely startled by the loud noise.

"Dad, dad," Brenton turned to his father who was reading on his tablet. Jared had been using the complimentary wi-fi service that required a boarding pass number to pass the time. "Shouldn't we do something?"

"About what?"

"I think someone, or rather some Blacklister, is getting raped."

"What would you have us do? I mean, it's not like it's illegal or anything."

"I know, I know, but maybe we should stop it, or I don't know, call the cops or something."

"Again, it's all perfectly legal, son. If we interfered, we might get arrested or thrown in jail or at the very least you'd get raped." Brenton looked down at his flaccid member, crestfallen by learning about the desensitization of every Blacklisters' plight. "Besides, boarding is just about to start."

"Gate forty-five E is now boarding," called another woman's voice. "One way to Mobile International; women and children first, please." The father-son duo waited for their turn as they sat for the next five minutes. "Blacklisters and their relations, now boarding Blacklisters and their relations," the woman's voice boomed out of the speaker as a few Non-Blacklisters snickered while a few others only glared at the patrons. Brenton never felt so self-conscious in his entire life than he did at that moment. He could feel every person... every glaring, judgemental eye cast upon him. How dare he and his kind go before them? How dare he and his people get special treatment? The unmitigated gall, the inconsiderate nerve of him and his naked, rotten, sexually motivated people! "Ok, now boarding military -" Brenton had moved out of range of the boarding attendant as he moved closer and closer to the plane cabin. It took the pair another five minutes to get on board and find their assigned seats. The biracial cream puff could feel the lure of his reproductive system as his bare ass was accidentally grazed by one of the female flight attendants. A small spark of pleasure flared out, causing his johnson to convulse on its own. He tried to maintain focus as his dad followed him down the aisle. He had gotten to the second class before noticing that his father had left him, making him stop and turn around. The Blacklister looked madly about for his father and the briefest hint of panic prevented him from popping a woody in front of every first class passenger in the room. Brenton settled down once he spied the top of his father's head, and started pushing his way past a wall of naked and dressed people. Each graze on his bare ass made it that much more difficult for him to keep control over his own body, especially with a few of the passengers sporadically pinching his exposed parts. A quick nip here or a tug there and he was fighting a rising hard-on. It didn't take long before he was almost at full mast as his meat strained for its master's touch. Luckily for him, he was able to sit down between the window and his father. This meant that no one from the aisle could molest him as he sat in cotton comfort.

"It's just a plane ride," his father commented in a somewhat hushed tone. "No reason to get that excited."

"No, it's not that; it's just -"

"Oh hey, I think they're about to start the safety demonstration." Jared pointed at the naked flight attendant who was actually waving at someone that he had recognized. "Oops, sorry, my bad. Now, what were you saying?"

"Nothing; nevermind!" Brenton reached into his dad's laptop bag and fished out his smartphone and earbuds so he could enjoy some music as he stared out the window at the tarmac. It was several minutes later when he had to unplug, listen to the safety lecture, and wait for the plane to take off. Sometime later, the plane was off, into the air and headed to its destination. Just before placing his earbuds back in, Brenton overheard the conversation between two fellow blacklisted passengers.

"Oh-la Manuel," said the first one.

"Jorge, is that you," asked the second one of the first man name of Manuel. "How are you?"

"Oh, fine, fine; how are Charlene and the kids?"

"Ohhhhhhh, you know, same as they ever are. Listen, how did your divorce go?" Brenton lifted his head above the seat briefly to see the two Blacklisters. Both appeared to be in their mid-to-late thirties, a bit like him. One had his hand on his stiff, leaky pole, teasing it absentmindedly as he spoke to the other. Brenton slid back down in his seat before either men noticed that they were being spied on by the biracial nudist.

"It went ok," Manuel twisted his nipple as he nodded his head. "I got raped by three different men in the courtroom, including my divorce attorney. God, that was humiliating."

"Oh really? How many loads did they give you?"

"I don't know, at least seven... maybe twelve?"

"Any nightmares?"

"Yeah, yeah," Manuel got quiet as he tried to put on a brave front. Both men tried to pretend that they were fine, when in truth, they were scared shitless. Benton could hear it in their voices: the fear, the anxiety, the false candor... all of it. He knew that the men were struggling with this new way of living. Day in, day out they lived in a constant state of pure terror. The living nightmare of The New World Order that was brought about by the Great Revelation had forever changed the face of American Society and had robbed many of peace. America was no longer the land of freedom and prosperity, but one built on fear, lust, and hate.

"Do..." Jorge struggled to get the words out, "do you want a hug or something?"

"Guys -" another man's voice interrupted the first two. "Do you mind stopping the slut-talk? I'm trying to get some work done and can't focus with all your jizz speech."

Brenton heard the men swallow, "yeah, yeah sure... we're sorry," Jorge replied.

"Yeah, we'll stop," added Manuel.

"Ok thanks a million! If I had time, I'd take turns sodomizing you both, but my NB boss really wants this spreadsheet finished and sent to him by the time I land." Brenton heard the sounds of one of the men getting up and returning to his seat. "Oh and nice ass man; grade-a, top notch cheeks! Ten outta ten - would definitely rape." Brenton could feel the fear of the Blacklister wash over him as the naked man returned to his place. Brenton wondered if this was on-par with all social interactions in The New World Order or if this was somehow just an isolated incident. Did Non-Blacklisters really casually threatened rape and sodomy during most interactions or was this one just abnormal somehow? He thought of all of the Blacklisters in the country and tried to imagine what it must be like in day-to-day living with this hell. The constant terror of being brutally taken; forced to have men dump load after load of semen and sperm into their backends. Having them humiliated and seen only as sex objects... living breathing sex objects, but sex objects nonetheless. He looked down at his man manipulator as it started to perk up. Was he really getting an erection from thinking about man-on-man rape? Did he really feel that this was a good idea? What did that mean for him? He got up once more, looked back at Jorge as the man continued to choke his chicken. Why did the nudist do that? Didn't he know that it would invite more unwanted attention? Brenton wanted to yell at the man to stop playing with himself and to wake up to the danger of such acts. But, he felt by doing this, it would most likely draw the attention that he and the others wanted to avoid. Instead he cranked up his music and lost himself to the rhythm nation.

It was over an hour and a half later when the plane finally landed at Mobile International. The father-son duo exited the plane without any further incident with one minor exception. One of the non-blacklisted flight attendants gave Brenton a classic "hotty whistle" as the Blacklister exited the cabin. "Shake that thing, but don't let no one but me break that thing," the black attendant cried. Much to Brenton's chagrin, he could feel his prick stiffen up. It was then that he noticed that it was accompanied by something unusual, something unexpected. There was an almost imperceptible build up of pressure in his scrotal sack. However slight it might be, it was still there. Brenton had read about such things on the web. He had read stories about Blacklisters that refused to ejaculate for long periods of time and were eventually driven to madness. For some it took a week, and for others a month or two. There was even tell of a celebrity that went for three months without touching himself. In the end he was saved when someone accidentally grazed the tip of his pole. The story went on to say that he splooged rotten man cheese all over the woman. The celebrity then went into hiding and hadn't been heard from since. No one can say which celebrity it was that did that, but only that it did happen at a pool party or a dinner party. Brenton wondered if this is what all of those other men felt at first. He wondered how long he would have before losing his mind. How long would he take before going insane? What would it be like? Would he see things? Hear things? Smell things? The biracial nudist knew that he had to do something. After all, if being blacklisted out here was this bad, how much worse would it be in a closed-off environment like his home?

"Come on champ," his dad's words cut through his musings like a knife cutting through butter. "How `bout I treatcha to a new hat, okay?" Brenton nodded as he followed his dad to a gift shop on the other side of the gate. The scared nudist watched as they passed by a group of four men that had one of them kneeling naked on the floor. Next to him on the ground was a pilot's hat and mirrored shades. The man looked to be in his early thirties while the other three appeared to be in their twenties. The Latino had his eyes squeezed shut as three different streams of urine blasted his face and filled his open mouth. Two of the twenty year olds were kissing one another while the third laughed at the man on all fours. As Brenton got further and further away, he watched as another Blacklister, a biracial man like him, tipped his security guard's hat at the group, smiled, and continued walking on. Brenton turned and entered the small gift shop occupied by a woman that despite being dressed like it was the present, had her hair teased and primped as though it was 1985. She couldn't have been a day over sixty-two.

"His kind isn't allowed in here," she snarled as she stared daggers at Brenton.

"Who? Black people," Jared was shocked at the indecency that this woman gave off. He acted as though she threatened to shoot them both if they didn't leave.

"No, they're welcome here; Blacklisters, on the other hand, aren't."

"Well we don't plan on buying any clothes if that makes a difference."

The woman briefly narrowed her eyes, trying to assess the truth in the statement. "Ok, just so long as you have no intentions on covering your fuck toy up."

"He's not my fuck toy - he's my son! So if you would kindly please show us where the hats are."

"I thought you said that you weren't trying to buy him clothes."

"Ma'am, as you well know, hats aren't considered clothes but are classified by the U.S. Government as accessories and therefore are a protected asset."

"Fine," the woman huffed as she reached out with her left hand and pointed at the wall. "There over there; I'm watching you both and if you make one move, take one step closer to the shirts, I'll call the cops!"

"Fair enough," Jared sighed as the two men walked over to the hats. Brenton nervously poured through the various hats hanging off the racks. There were trucker hats, football team hats, straw hats, cream colored stetsons. Then he found it: the perfect hat type that would compliment his slutty ensemble. It was a Tenerife hat like the men of Spain or Panama might wear. It had a ribbon with the word "Alabama" repeatedly wrapped around it in white-silver lettering.

He placed it on his head, smiled, and asked, "so how do I look?"

"I think it makes you look rather fetching. I'm sure not only will it protect your head from the sun, but also nab you a few numbers in the process."

"Daaad, we're going to meet up with the family!"

"True, but you never know who you might run into along the way or what might happen." Jared turned back to the woman behind the counter who had placed her hand on her cell phone. It was an older style flip phone from about twenty years ago, and again seemed a bit out of place like her hairstyle. "How much?

The woman tapped a few buttons on the register after begrudgingly letting go of her phone. "Thirty dollars," she sneered; technically they really hadn't violated any laws and weren't making moves towards the shirts.

"We'll take it," Jared reached into his pocket and dragged out the cash he needed to complete the transaction before walking out the door. "Oh and you may wanna brush up on those customer service skills after we leave. I'd hate to think that Southern hospitality is a dead art form."

"Me me me me me," Brenton heard the woman say in a mocking voice as they walked out of earshot.

It was about half an hour later when his father had set up a rideshare to take them away from the airport. Brenton could once again feel the pressure from an unspent load growing inside. Each minute of silence slowly ticked by as the car raced down the highway. His father was looking out the window, taking in all of the sights that could be seen as they whizzed by at several miles an hour. Brenton, however, was cursing his luck at having gotten into what most would consider a Blacklister trap-car: a vehicle lined with velour on the back seating. Every tiny bump, every little jostle, every bitsy stone made the fabric graze his flesh pouch, adding to his growing sexual frustration. It was hell; a sexually frustrating hell designed to make him get backed up even further. The "thank you for not ejaculating" sign with the classic yellow and black smiley face made it even worse. He could only watch as his penis grew harder and harder as the pain inside continued to grow. He wanted to scream, to cry, to beg for mercy, but he didn't want to admit that he was in pure unimaginable agony. Brenton watched as his love log became fully erect, begging for its master's hand, only wanting to cry with relief. He watched as it wept fat, heavy tears of brutal torment, wishing only for the slightest touch, the merest of hint of love and affection. In his mind, Brenton could hear what it was screaming out: "play with me! Please, won't anyone play with me? All I want is a little pet and I promise... I promise I'll go back to sleep! You'll never have to touch me EVER again! I swear I'll be good! I won't even make that big of a mess!" Brenton whimpered softly as he jammed his fist into his mouth, biting down onto his hand in hopes of shifting his focus; it failed to work.

He turned to his dad, "uhhh, dad..."

"Yeah son," his father continued staring out the window, failing to notice the condition that Brenton was in.

"About - uhhhhh - about how much longer `til we get there?"

"Why? What's up sport?" Jared turned to face his son as his eyes widened at what it was that he was looking at. He watched as a fresh glob strained out of his son's tip, rolled down the entirety of the young man's shaft before dripping onto the seat cushion. Jared swallowed hard; he hadn't prepared for this eventuality.

"Ummmm, no - no reason."

"Ohhhhhh, uhhhhhhh, ummmmmm... twenty minutes! Twenty minutes before we get there, I promise!"

"What's going on back there," the female driver with the New York accent called out. "Don't tell me one of yous has gotten sick or somet'in!"

"No, no," Jared called back, "no sickness back here! Everything back here is ay-okay!" Brenton's one-eyed-willy gave Jared a wink almost as if it was in on the lie as well. It leaned in towards the panicked papa, pleading with Brenton's father to be touched by the man. Brenton, meanwhile, had now adopted a look of agony as he was forced to cope with the ever increasing levels of pain he was experiencing. Another blob of Brenton's unruly dick snot leaked out of his unmilked udder, staining the fabric that kept up with its erogenous torture. Brenton forced his eyes open, looked over at the man that gave him fifty percent of his DNA and pleaded with him silently to do something. "We're almost there, pal! We're almost there! Just hang on, ok," Jared whispered to his suffering son. Brenton nodded as little beads of sweat started dripping off his face. The twenty-nine year old nudist started huffing and puffing rhythmically, trying to calm himself. Jared grabbed the fellow's hat that had fallen off and started fanning the young man desperately. "Is this helping at all," Jared's eyes were wide with fear as Brenton shook his head.

"No uhhh no - it's ahhhh making it ohhhh worse," Brenton did everything in his power to maintain a hushed tone. With every bluster of the fan, his man-cano throbbed and pulsated as if it were going to start erupting with its fiery hot male lava. Jared didn't know if it would act like a geyser and shoot straight up or if it would spin and sputter like a broken firehose, dousing the entire backseat in his son's seed, and he didn't want to find out.

"Are you sure that everything is ok," the driver asked earnestly again. Brenton shook his head as he watched his dad try to reach a decision as to what to say.

"Uhhhh... actually, he's a little overheated is all," Jared came up with another little white lie just in the nic-of-time.

"Ohhh, I'm sorry," the driver said, slightly relieved that it wasn't something else. "Is there anything that I can do to help out? I can turn the A/C up to max if it'll help." She reached out with her hand as Brenton shook his head again. Jared made a frown as if to say, "what choice do we have?"

"Shu-sure, thanks; that'd be just swell - really, really sw- uhhh - good!" The driver turned the knob up to the highest level that the A/C in her car could go and even started breathing loudly as if that too would somehow help.

"We're like fourteen and a half minutes away, so hang on. I think that I might have a bottle of water around here somewhere." She reached down, rooted around for the beverage, and tossed it to the back. "Let me know if you need anyt'ing else, yeah?"

Jared nodded fervently, "of course, of course," and handed the bottle to Brenton who chugged it down. Despite its temperature, it still managed to feel cool and refreshing as the clear liquid ran down the back of his throat. Another bounce and Brenton squealed; this time loud enough to draw unwanted attention.

"What happened," the driver looked in the rearview mirror and watched as Brenton leaned forward.

"Ummmm - errrrr - cramp, just a heat cramp - yeah that's it. Listen, do you think that we could pull over and let him out for a minute or two? I think he might vomit."

"Yeah sure, pal; it's your dime," the driver started slowing down and veered off into the shoulder of the mostly vacant highway that had the occasional vehicle zip by. "Just so long as you don't mess up the backseat too much. I mean, the car seat is water treated, not vomit treated or nuttin"

"Thanks; thank you so much!" As soon as the car came to a complete stop, Brenton bolted out the door, down the hill, and into one of the nearby wetlands that had dotted the side of the highway for the last twenty miles or so. Jared could barely make out the edge of Mobile, Alabama as he turned his head to look into the direction that they were moving towards.

After a few minutes, a loud "AHHHH-HAHAHA," cried out indicating that the twenty-nine year old nudist had emptied his nuts into the watery depths below the highway. Jared watched as his mature son ascended back up the hill, a look of relief pasted on his face. He still had on the collar and cuffs along with his sneakers and seemed to be in better spirits than before. His erection had finally calmed down and instead the flaccid flosser bounced playfully between his legs. Jared could swear that even Brenton's meat smiled with relief. Brenton climbed back into the car, the driver none-the-wiser as to what all had happened... well at least for the time being. As the nudist closed the door, he wondered to himself what sort of sick puppy would purposefully put velour onto seat cushions, let alone allow drivers to purchase these "upgrades." It didn't matter now; relief was in hand and peace within had been granted once more to him.

It was another thirty minutes before the driver pulled into the destination that had been selected ahead of time. Brenton looked around, a confused expression filling up his face. "Wh-where are we? I thought that we were going to the hotel first," he stared up at the towering pine trees that covered the area with a cool, refreshing shade. Outside he could see people running and playing and cooking and doing other outdoor activities. The pink skinned people seemed vaguely familiar. It was as though he was remembering them from a dream he once had.

Jared smiled, "and we will, but the family invited us to a barbecue, so I thought we'd meet with them first."

Brenton started to fidget in his seat like a little boy that had just been told he was about to get his vaccines renewed. The anxiety percolated deep within as he was unsure why the plans had been changed. He had been banking on some mental prep time before meeting these people, and now here they were; live and in living color. The naked twenty-nine year old wasn't sure what to do, and did the only thing that he had available to him: he put on his hat, grabbed his toothbrush and wallet, and stepped out of the car as his dad came around with the rest of their luggage. "Thanks, ma'am," he told the driver as she helped empty the trunk.

"No sweat," she replied. "Consider it a bonus for stopping that Blacklister from pukin' in my car." Jared nervously smiled as she got in and drove away, worried if his son's presnot was going to be found.

"No matter," Jared thought, "we will worry about that later. Now's the time for some overdue reintroductions."

Brenton stood in the shaded glen of a sun-faded yellow house as three young men were busy playing what appeared to be American football. He had often heard it called that by those outside the U.S. so as to distinguish it from its foreign name-doppelganger. He slowly and carefully followed in his dad's footsteps, his man udder bouncing playfully against his skin. The sunlight bounced off the water in the distance, giving a soft, 1980s nature vibe to the whole scene. He looked over to the right and saw a wooden picnic table covered with food and a blue plastic cooler sitting on the ground next to it. Beside that, he saw two grown men, that were about his father's height and age, standing around a coal burning, round barbecue grill. Smoke had just puffed up after the flames flared up briefly as if they were signifying Brenton's arrival. It was then that one of the taller guys playing football noticed the father-son duo as they made their approach towards the house and pointed at them. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at the new arrivals as they got closer and closer to the barbecue. Brenton could feel the sweat of anxiety drop off his body as he felt scared and vulnerable at coming near these strange, almost alien folk. One of the two older men placed some tongs on the grill before they both made their approach towards Jared and Brenton. They had their arms open wide and smiles plastered on their face, like they were greeting a long lost relative for the first time.

"Heeeyyyyy," they both said as the one in the canary yellow shirt took the lead. "There he is; there's the man! Jared, long time no see baby brother!"

"Yeah, yeah it has been hasn't it," Brenton's father proclaimed.

"And this must be Brenton," the man in canary yellow reached out a hand for Brenton to grab onto. "Long time, no see as well - oh hey - don't cum on me, now. How is the ol' sperm worm, ay?"

"Good to see you and none of your business," Brenton shook the hand of the man in canary yellow. His prick dangled about as the man's gyrations caused Brenton's whole body to shake. After he let the man's hand go, the other man with a Hawaiian luau shirt with a coral color background leaned in to hug Brenton. Brenton could feel the warm softness of the man's pants as they grazed up against his brown headed love snake. It made his body surge with erotic lust causing the reproductive creature to tingle. Brenton let out a soft sigh as he tried to control himself and his naked body. The man in the Hawaiian shirt pulled back, holding onto Brenton's taut shoulders.

"This is Mark, my older brother," Jared announced as the man in canary yellow waved at him. "And you remember Uncle Owen, my younger brother?"

Brenton nodded as Owen spoke for him, "of course he does."

"Hello sirs," Brenton replied as the men stood close, crowding the naked fellow. Just as they pulled away, the bulk of a blonde young man, about Brenton's age, came trotting by, not seeing with anything more than only the briefest of glances. He was drinking lemonade, sipping it through a metal straw that was lodged in a transparent plastic tumbler. The ice slushed around as he pressed the straw against his lips, taking a big swig of the sweet concoction. It was then that the young man turned back to look at Brenton and spat out the fluid in utter shock at what he beheld. The young man's jaw dropped open in utter awe and wonder as he looked at Brenton's gorgeous, athletically toned body.

Brenton was a masterpiece: like one of those Grecian sculptures that the mop top, golden blonde lad had seen in art books. His perfectly sculpted head was accented by a well-proportioned neck. Brenton's shoulders were narrow, but defined. A pair of perfectly proportioned deltoids leading down to arms with biceps and triceps the size of an American football. Brenton's pecs were flat and clung to his chest, but chiseled and defined none-the-less. Each pec muscle was a revelation in and of themselves, accented by a soft, dime sized nipple and that looked like they ached to licked and touched. Below was a set of perfectly carved six-pack of abdominal muscles that were connected by an equally carved v-line. Short, round, curly hairs connected Brenton's belly button down to his equally scant, broad-ranging pubic forest, forming a narrow pleasure trail. It was then that the blonde fellow drank in the sight of Brenton's nine and a half inch long schlong. The blonde couldn't help but stare, mouth agape in utter shock and disbelief before speaking. "He-hey," he finally sputtered out after what felt like an eternity, "how's it go - HOLY FUCKING HELL - is that you cuz?" Brenton nodded, not immediately registering who it was that was talking to him. "IT'S ME, AUSTIN!"

"Austin," Brenton squeezed his eyes as he tried to serach for the smallest of hints as to the kid that he remembered. And, suddenly, like a bomb going off in his brain, the memories started flooding back. It had been twenty years since the two had seen each other. Brenton still remembered crying the day he moved away from Austin to Kansas City. They acted more like twin brothers and less like cousins growing up. "If that's really you, what was the name of your first dog?"

"Captain Patches - duh!"

"Oh man, it is you!"

"Lookin' good, man... lookin' real good!"

"Uhhhh thanks!" Just then the other three young men strolled up and joined Benton and Austin in the conversation.

"Hey Austin," the one with strawberry blonde hair said. He was bigger, tougher, and way more ripped than all the other guys combined. "Who's this joker?"

"Garryt, I want you to meet my bestfriend and our cosuin, Brenton."

"What's up," the beef slab popped his chin up and down.

"And the other two are Kyle and Quynntin , but you can call them Thing One' and The Other." Austin laughed at his own joke as he looked at the twins' expression of annoyance. "No, no, but seriously Quynntin usually goes by Quynn' or sometimes just plain Q." The twins held out their hands as Brenton reached for theirs. Their sandy blonde locks had been coiffed into opposing parts, both heads mirroring one another.

"A pleasure," said Quynn.

"A real pleasure," said Kyle.

"We've heard so much about you from Austin."

"Quite alot, actually."

"We've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time."

"A long, long time."

"So, I take it your a Blacklister," said Garryt abrasively, still unsure as to what to make of the new guy.

Brenton cautiously smiled, "yes, yes I am."

"Just don't get your junk near me or your spooge on me and we'll be fine." Garryt turned to Austin, "come on man, let's play some football. Shirts versuses skins! You can be on my team!" Austin pulled off his shirt, revealling a thicker build than Brenton had originally been led to believe. Austin was slightly less chiseled than Brenton, but clearly wasn't without some muscle. On his meaty pecs sat two tiny, penny sized, pink, sharp nipples. Brenton felt a stirring in his loins as he stared in disbelief at this golden god.

"No thanks," Austin smiled, "Brenton and I are gonna be on the same team, right Brenton?" Brenton nodded, and for the first time in a long while didn't feel so at odds with the world around him. Austin then had a crazy notion: something that he had wanted to do to help Brenton feel more at ease. Austin undid the buckle of his pants, unzipped his fly and allowed his shorts to hit the pine covered ground. It was Brenton's turn to gasp as he could see the largest, heaviest, thickest lump behind a pair of tighty-whities, or any underwear for that matter. It was huge: like it could just pop out at any second. It was as if the fabric was fighting - nay, straining - to hold back Austin's piece. It was the biggest one Brenton had seen in his entire life, and it was attached to Austin. He looked back over as Austin tossed his shorts over by the house before he ran his fingers through his curly blonde mop top. "So I figure that I'll play in my underwear. That way, hopefully you won't feel too outta place or uncomfortable." Austin smiled a big goofy grin as he looked back over to his naked cousin. Brenton blushed as he looked away, but then remembered the reason why Austin was in his underwear to begin with.

"Fine," Garryt snapped, "Kyle, Quynn, which one of you is gonna be on my team and which one of you is gonna be the ref, so we can get this thing started?"

The twink twins raised opposing fingers at opposing ends of their mouths, mirroring each other once again. The looked up at the same imaginary speck of light as they contemplated who was going to be what. "Hitchy pitchy pee," one said to the other.

"Loff now," shrugged the other.

Brenton laughed, "what did they just say?"

"They made up their own language when they were four," Austin replied. "It's their way of speaking in secret to one another without their parents understanding. They say it's way too complicated for others to learn and would take far too much time to teach." The twins continued on talking far too rapidly to be deciphered with one another.

Finally their conversation ended and a response was given to their older brother. "Quynn will referee and I will play," Kyle cheerfully reponded.

"Fine," Garryt snarled, "let's do this!"

The blacklisted stud muffin then took an opposing stance against Garryt. Garryt stared down at Brenton, snarling as he made a plan to attack him at the first opportunity that he had. "Blue forty-two," Garryt called out, his eyes never breaking with the naked opposition. "Blue forty-two... hut, hut - HIKE!" Garryt tossed the ball back at Kyle as Quynn stood off to the side, making sure that everyone was playing fair. It wasn't until Garryt tackled Brenton and knocked him to the ground, did anyone suspect that something might be amiss. As Garryt pinned Brenton to the ground with his left arm, the Non-Blackliser's free hand snaked over to Brenton's exposed genitals. Once there, the muscle mountain pulled on Brenton's goods with as much force as he could muster, but not enough to tare them off. Brenton screamed out at the top of his lungs as pain ripped through his exposed body. Austin dropped the ball, and both he and Kyle jogged over to where the other two were laid out on the ground. Garryt got up, dusted himself off, and then growled at Brenton as Austin drew close to the injured fellow.

"What happened," asked Austin as he looked over for some sign of damage on Brenton. Dirt, needles, and sand fell from Brenton's bare skin as he moaned and cried, the pain still fresh in his naked form.

"I knocked him to the ground and his naked body couldn't cope with the shock," Garryt stated.

"AHHHH," Brenton yelled, "IT HURTS, IT HURTS!" He grabbed his genitals, cradling them like a parent would cradle an injured child.

Austin got angry, "then why is he cradling his genitals?"

"I don't know," argued Garryt. "Cause that's what Blacklisters do whenever they get injured! Who am I? The Blacklister Council? Fuck man, the guy's a wuss!"

Austin leaned into Brenton and tried pulling Brenton's hands away, "let me see it! Just let me see them!"

"No, no," Brenton argued as he fought with Austin. "You're just gonna hurt me again! Get away! Get away!"

"No I won't! I promise! I'm a licensed EMT! But, I have to see the injury so I can know how to treat it properly." Brenton nodded, still rolling in pain as he let the golden blonde examine his glands. Austin looked over the affected site, making sure that there were no visible lesions or other signs of trauma. "Ok... ok... everything looks ok on the outside," Austin lifted Brenton's man meat and closely examined the entire length as well as the nudist's testes. "Ok, now I am going to perform a series of physical stimulus tests to make sure that there is no nerve damage or internal injuries." It was then that the three fathers rolled up on the scene.

"What happened," Jared barked.

"We were playing football," Quynn quickly explained.

"And something happened," Kyle continued.

"And Brenton was knocked to the ground by Garryt."

"And he screamed in pain!"

"And that's when we saw him holding onto his crotch!"

"Ok," Austin assured while Brenton continued wailing. "We're gonna start right now, ok?" Brenton nodded as Austin pulled on his painful member while the parents awaited the assessment results. "How does that feel? Does that feel good, OK, or painful?"

Brenton shook his head in response to the first option, "AHH-HA-HA - a little painful."

"Ok, how 'bout this?" Austin pulled on Brenton's man berries sending aftershocks of agony into his body.

He wailed again, "AH-HA - painful, real painful!"

"And now for this," Austin blew soft, warm breath across Brenton's crotch. This time he didn't scream, but instead moaned a little. The pleasure was electric and the warmth of Austin's breath somehow made him feel safe.

"That feels... ummmm... I'd - uhhhh rather - not say."

"Ok, ok... that's good, that's real good then. So when the pain is gone, and you feel a bit better, I need you to ejaculate for me. The sooner, the better." Brenton's eyes widened; he wasn't ever planning to empty himself of his seed in front of these people. "It's the last test, I promise. I just wanna make sure that everything still works down there, kay?" Brenton ruefully nodded as he laid there in the dirty sand. Austin turned to Garryt, fury burning red hot in his eyes and struck the brute, shoving him back a few paces. "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM MAN?"

"Hey, hey," Mark grabbed Austin while Owen grabbed Garryt. This freed up Jared to quietly examine his son.

"WHAT'S MY PROBLEM," Garryt shouted, standing his ground as he snarled and snapped. "WHAT'S MY PROBLEM? LOOK AT HIM! HE'S A BLACKLISTER! HE'S A FUCKING SEX FIEND! HE'LL RAPE EACH ONE OF US THE FIRST CHANCE HE GETS!"

With a look of disgust and rage, Austin looked like he was about to slap Garryt. "No he won't! He's our cousin! He's not like that! He's not like them, at all! In fact, I don't think any of them would do that."

"Listen, you can believe whatever lies and propaganda that you want! Me? I'm gonna believe the truth... the scientific truth! And you CAN'T convince me otherwise!" Garryt stormed off, leaving the others behind. It was then that a female came out of the house and looked around to see what all had happened. She was lithe, a bit shorter than either Austin or Brenton. With her chestnut brown hair and her apron covering a canary yellow dress, she looked like a lady from the mid to late 1950s.

"What happened," she asked in a soothing melodic voice. She watched as the men helped Brenton up to his feet, followed by Jared. She looked at the naked fellow and then at the other men standing there. Her eyes widened briefly as she saw how big Brenton was between the legs. "Oh my! Mark, is everything ok?"

"Yeah, more or less," Mark replied while nodding slowly.

"Well what happened?"

"It seems Jared's kid here couldn't keep it between his legs and coaxed Garryt into a sexual frenzy. He was just being friendly when Brenton bashed his bits against our boy."

"Ohhhhhhh no! Oh dear! I was afraid something like this was going to happen!"

Austin snarled, "that's not what happened and you know it!" Frustrated, he turned to the lady, "Garryt and Brenton were playing football when Garryt rammed into Brenton and tried to rip his junk off."

"Oh dear - really?" Everyone but Mark, Austin, and Brenton confirmed the story by nodding.

"Well," Mark protested, "it wouldn't have happened if Brenton had been wearing clothes like a normal person. The whole fucking lot of them are just asking for trouble by being naked all the time. Plus, they whack it constantly. I got a guy in the office, one of them Mid-Easteners, all he does all day long is beat his meat! He can't do anything worth shit! Just beats off all day long and still gets raises!" The image of a Mid-Easterner hunched over in an office chair passionately pulling on his porker entered Brenton's mind and started to stir his beast. It was that pain again; the pain from getting backlogged with white hot semen. He knew this pain... it was different from what he had just been through. Austin placed his shoulders under Brenton's right arm while Jared did the opposite. Both helped Brenton hobble inside the house as the lady gave a concerned look around.

"Ohhhhhhh Mark..." she was worried about her missing son. "We need to find Garryt before it gets to be too late."

"Don't worry Bethany; he'll be back. Hell, your cooking alone can summon the dead back!"

"Oh Mark," Bethany chuckled, "stop!" The married pair followed the others inside and closed the screen door.

Back inside, Brenton found a chair in the kitchen furthest from the screen door. Jared had let him go, and went to make an ice pack. It was Austin that helped the nudist over to the chair. Once Brenton sat down, his penis sat up, making the naked fellow extremely embarrassed. Austin looked down at the wood that his cousin was sporting, "well so far everything seems to be in working condition." The golden blonde chuckled as his cousin tried to hide his boner. "Don't be embarrassed; you're a guy, a naked guy. It's not like I haven't seen a few of those in my lifetime. I am an EMT after all." Brenton pulled back his hands a little relieved at this small comfort. "Ok, now you just need to jerk off and then we'll be sure no real damage has been done."

"What? Now," Brenton was worried. He didn't want to masturbate in front of others regardless of whether or not they were family.

Austin nodded fervently before smacking his forehead, "oh right, right... we need something that'll hold the cum. Don't want to stain Great Aunt Rita's wooden floorboards. Hey mom," he called out to a woman who wasn't in the room. "Do you know where the old worm bucket is?"

"Didja try the garage sweetie," called back another lady from the floor above the kitchen. Brenton recognized that voice immediately: it was Aunt Jessica, Austin's mom. He remembered how sweet and nice she was; always offering sweets and popsicles whenever Brenton came around. He wondered if she looked like the angel he remembered her to be. As Brenton sat there playing with himself, he remembered how the neighborhood kids were always so mean to him. How they used to make fun of him for being taller and bigger than them. He was a sensitive, gentle giant and thus it was up to Austin to save the day. Austin was the scrapper of the bunch and got into many fights defending Brenton. Brenton could've easily taken them on, but he abhorred violence. It was one of the many reasons why he stayed in his home a majority of the time in a post Great Revelation world. It was then that Mark came over and found Brenton sitting in the chair playing with himself. He looked down at Brenton's gorgeous man roaster, ice cold beer in hand.

"Jeez kid," he snarled, "you think that you could stop whacking it for five whole seconds for once in your life? I mean, come on! You're at a family function!"

"Found it," Austin called out as he came back inside to help out Brenton. "Oh hey Uncle M; what's up?"

Mark was a bit startled by Austin and tore his eyes away from Brenton's elongated love warrior. "No - nothing! Just hanging out with your cousin Brenton here. He's such a nice young fellow." Brenton scowled at Mark who pretended not to notice the looks the Blacklister was sending him.

"Yeah, yes he is," Austin beamed before turning his attention back to Brenton. "Here ya go, cuz! Don't wanna get that sticky seed all over Great Aunt Rita's floorboards, even if they are treated and sealed." He smiled as he handed the old rusted bucket to Brenton.

Brenton took the metal container, placed it gently on the floor boards, and went to town on himself. At first he started with a breezy, light pace, giving himself a taste of things to come. His hand danced effortlessly across his smoke stack, Austin watching with great intent and fascination, like the Blacklister was putting on a show just for his cousin. His hand sped faster and faster as he really got into it, losing himself to the rhythm, to the passion of the act. Brenton could feel the burgeoning seed building inside him, his load bearing against itself, against his testicular walls and vas deferens as it prepared for its violent expulsion. "Uh, uh, uhh," he moaned as the twins came over to where Brenton was stationed. Their eyes were wide with fascination as they too watched their cousin pleasure himself there in front of God and everyone. They licked their lips as Brenton's eyes remained closed. "Uh-huh, uh-huh - that's it," Brenton moaned as he continued beating his meat into submission. It was a game you see, a wrestling match, one that Brenton was going to triumph in as he was always crowned the victor. To him, went the spoils: a white hot orgasm, complete with a non-stop ticket to happy town. All he had to do was run his hands across his aching guy gouger and everything would fall into place.

There it was: there was the pressure... the tingle, the delight, the ecstasy that he had grown fond of. No, not fond of... dependant on; he longed for it, craved it, it was like a drug. It was more than a simple addiction and far more potent than any drug that he had ever taken. It gave Brenton life... a purpose if you will. In those brief moments of sublime ecstasy, Brenton felt connected to everyone and everything in existence. He felt blessed, safe, and secure in the knowledge that he had a place in the world. But there was something else there; something that he couldn't see, but could still feel. It was like... like someone was there, watching him, loving him unconditionally. He had always assumed that it was his father, but lately he wondered what it was. What it - "oh, Oh, OH GAWWWWWDDDDDDDD," his spooge rocketed out of the tip of his penis, splattering against the metal bucket below as he had shifted the angle of his dangle a half second after it started pumping out. "OH, OH, OH," the naked biracial sex spot moaned as splatter after splatter redecorated the rusty bucket with nice random white splotches. He kept pumping and pumping the milky substance from his udder and into the previously empty container.

"Moo," one of the twins snickered, "moo." Austin slapped the arm of Kyle as the eighteen year old playfully pretended to be injured.

"Behave," Austin snapped as the kid dropped his head in shame. After about thirty seconds of pumping out fresh spermy semen, Brenton petered out, letting the last of the droplets fall into the bucket before falling back into a relaxed lounging position. "Ok cuz," Austin cheerfully announced as he looked down at Brenton, "I think that's all the information that I need to make a diagnosis."

Brenton panted, "huh? What?" He was still a bit breathless from his self-fornication.

"I think I can honestly say you'll make a full recovery. No real damage was done, but stay out of Garryt's crosshairs and I'll try to act as buffer in the meantime." Despite all that was accomplished, Brenton knew on some level that this wasn't the end of Garryt or his bullying ways.

It was sometime later when the entire family had been called out for dinner and Brenton was starved. He had been staying indoors and away from Garryt, even after his cousin's return. The bare skinned Blacklister did everything in his power up until that moment to give Garryt as wide a berth as possible. Instead, he holed himself up in a guest room, keeping his mind occupied with the Blacklister subreddit on the mobile web. Great Aunt Rita's house did have a wireless router installed, but it was spotty and slow at best thanks to the satellite dish that had been installed on the roof. He was at ill ease and wanted to leave as soon as manners and social conventions would allow. Austin would occasionally come in and check up on him, wondering if he wanted to go downstairs, but Brenton felt it best not to do that. That had to change, however, when the family was called down for the night's meal. The sun had begun to set, and the lightning bugs were now being forced out of hiding from their shelters just like he was being forced to do. Austin came to collect him and make sure that he was still doing ok. Brenton hated lying to his cousin. He wanted to tell the golden blonde that he was miserable and just wanted to go to the hotel, fall asleep, and wake up several days later only to find it was time to return to KC. At least there he could blend in with all the other Blacklisters on those rare occasions where he would make public appearances. He briefly thought of the other Blacklisters, how they were humiliated, viciously and cruelly raped, only to be forced to move on with their lives with no time to process their brutalizations. Brenton shuddered as he thought of the horror stories that filled not only the subreddit, but all of social media.

Brenton knew that he would have to put in obligatory appearances to all of the family meetings from now until he and his father left. Tonight's dinner was just the stepping stone into the week's festivities. Seven whole days of food, family, and people asking invasive questions about his lifestyle. Questions like: why do you prefer to be naked? Is it a sex thing? Do you get off knowing that you're part of some illustrious shadow organization that keeps men like you in power? Why can't I get stuff for free? All of these were questions that he had encountered at one time or another. All of them and more would most likely be the topics of conversation over the next several days. "Tonight," Brenton thought, "tonight... I just have to make it through tonight. Then I can sleep and dream of better tomorrows. Maybe there will be too many distractions for Garryt tomorrow. Maybe he won't come after me if he's too busy with the other relatives." All of this and more swirled around inside Brenton's head as he made his way outside to join the rest of the family at dinner.

It was there at the picnic table that Brenton felt some modicum of normalcy. For one brief shining moment, he felt normal, welcomed, and not like an outsider; that is, until Garryt sat down. Brenton could see the fire in the jock's eyes: the hatred, the fury, the loathing, all of it. It was as if the big brute had decided all of his life's problems had been caused by Blacklisters, especially by Brenton in particular. The Blacklister sat down at the other end of the table, across from Austin, inhaling the sweet, delicious aromas that came with every meal. The scent of delicious mouthwatering barbecue filled Brenton's nasal passageways, reminding him of everything that he had lost. It was then that Brenton found a beverage container had materialized in front of him. He looked up, and saw Aunt Jessica beaming back at him, her golden blonde hair glowing like a halo amidst the rays of the setting sun. "Here ya go suge," her voice still reminded him of angels singing to him. "One Blacklister special, made fresh to order."

"Th-thank you," Brenton took the container in his hand and placed the straw in his mouth.

"I hope you like it, I made it specially for you."

Brenton choked a little, "it's delicious... very delicious." He had lied; he didn't want to make the woman who probably went out of her way to make him feel welcome any worse than he had already done. He would feel terrible if he told her that it tasted like cardboard, making her cry. He had already alienated one part of his dad's family, no sense in adding Brenton's favorite part into the mix.

"So Brenton," Owen took another bite out of a beef brisket sandwich slathered in sauce. "You're a Blacklister... what's that like?"

"Owennnnn-" Jessica gave her husband a slap on the arm before he cradled it like a wounded animal.

"What?"

Brenton chuckled, "it's ok. You might be surprised to discover that was the least unusual question that I get." Brenton took another sip on his meal shake before he continued. "Well I wouldn't know too much about it as I spend most of my time at home."

"Oh really," Owen was genuinely surprised by this turn of events. "What do you do for employment?"

"I'm gainfully employed as an online teacher focusing on ancient Egyptian history and Blacklister studies. I have become an aficionado of blacklisted culture or rather the subculture that has popped up since The Great Revelation. All of my students interact with me virtually, and are vetted thoroughly to weed out anyone who might cause problems for the students as well as the teacher."

"What is it? All circle jerks and orgies," Mark took a sip of the beer that he had freshly popped as Owen and Jessica looked away in shame.

"Uncle, could you not," Austin chastised his uncle before taking another bite.

"What? I only said what everything was thinking!" Owen, Jessica, and Austin shook their heads before eating another bite of food.

"Ummm... no, no it's not. Actually we discuss things like what led us here, why we are here, and what it means for us as a society moving forward. The sexuality behind the reasoning that Blacklisters were collectively turned into," Brenton made air quotes, "sex slaves' is only a small part of our discussions and the class."

"Ok, I get that," Austin nodded before downing a spoonful of his mom's Deviled Egg potato salad. "But what does Ancient Egyptian culture have to do with Blacklister culture?"

Brenton shrugged, "nothing; it really isn't a part of my class on Blacklister culture. It's a seperate class that I teach in addition to my class on Blacklister culture." It was then Brenton started to feel something: something all too familiar and problematic. He cleared his throat, "so anyway, as I was saying -"

"Please," Bethany interrupted, "tell us more about your culture, please."

"Well, actually we aren't a proper culture, not yet anyway. We are what most would call a subculture. The only way we become a full culture is when we - well, I'm not exactly sure. I guess we are a proper culture, when you think about it. What is a subculture but a whole and complete culture that is overcast by another, much larger culture."

"Interesting, very interesting. However, that still does not address the request. What else can you tell us about Blacklisters?"

"WE actually don't like being brutally raped." Austin spit out his drink as everyone stopped in the middle of what it was they were doing.

"I'm sorry, come again."

"Yeah, we don't actually get off on having our rectums ripped apart by Non-Blacklisters."

"Then why do it to each other? I mean, just the other day I witnessed a Mexican force himself upon another Mexican. Why did he do that? I mean, if you don't like it done to you, then why do it to another?" Brenton sat in silence for a second as the image of two swarthy, muscular Latino men fornicating in front of the entrance to a grocery store played out in his head. He could imagine the moments that lead up to the rape. The first one getting to the door, seeing the second, bending him over and viciously going to town on him. He could almost hear the screams, the shrieks, the cries of anguish as the first one tore open the second with his massive tool. It was all so unsettling, and also erotic. Big, brutish men engaging in powerful acts of raw, sexual, carnal acts of pure savagery. Their tawdry naked bodies interlocked with one another. Their penises in each other's bodies, regardless of whether the other wanted it. It was potent - it was beastial, animalistic lust... the way nature wanted it. "I - uhhhh - I don't know why. We are still looking into that aspect, but it doesn't ma-ma-make it ruh-right."

It was then that Brenton looked down and saw that he was hard as a rock. He stared at the throbbing, pulsating mass that until recently had been sleeping. It wept tears of anguish as it longed to feel someone's, anyone's, gentle embrace. Oh, how it wanted to be touched, to be loved. Once it saw that Brenton was staring at it, it twitched aggressively towards its master, demanding affection right then and there. Brenton swallowed hard as he knew that standing in this state would undercut the entire argument that he had just made. The very idea that a Blacklister was getting a boner from the scantest hint of rape and sodomy would undo anything that he had said or would say. His eyes widened as fear took over his reasoning. There was nowhere to go, nothing he could do to alleviate this burden. He looked up at the smiling faces of his family. "Huh, that would've been my first thing to investigate if I were in charge," Bethany folded her arms. "I mean if my own people were threatening to undo my whole political stance of not wanting to be raped, I'd at least want to know why that was."

"Bethanyyyyy..." the slight castigation came from Jessica. "He already said why, dear: he doesn't know. In fact, I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone in the world who would actually know. People are stupid, crazy creatures and there is rarely a reason why bad people, in this case blacklisted rapists, do anything that makes any sense." Brenton looked over at Bethany and saw her fall silent as she withdrew her complaint. It was then that the nudist saw Garryt staring at him with an evil, wicked grin that said that he was up to no good. He picked up his lemonade, made a toasting gesture, and then took a sip of the cool, refreshing beverage. Brenton realized what it was that had happened. Why it was that he was becoming erect despite having no real discernable external source of sexual stimulation. He had been dosed with Nuagra. He looked into his drink for any signs of the stimulant, and found nothing.

"Of course there wouldn't be anything, you dolt," he chasitized himself. "The drug was designed to mix seamlessly into drinks and food for older men to generate a sex drive in them." Brenton remembered reading all the materials on this new blue pill replacement. He remembered all the ways it could be administered and all the drug's benefits. He remembered that it could be made into a capsule or dissolved into a liquid for injection or for oral consumption. In some of the clinical trials, it had been turned into a gas and pumped into a room. Of course this was difficult to do and had to be mixed safely into a base before this method was used. Seeing as how he had been indoors all day and no one else was showing any signs of becoming hard, he was left to conclude that he had been dosed via liquid in his drink. Oftentimes, the higher the dose, the more potent the orgasm that accompanied it would be, but that may have been in more extreme cases. A small percentage of males that had been given the drug would end up having a negative reaction to the drug. They would end up being burdened with an overproduction of seminal fluid. It would get so bad that their biology would be irrevocably altered. They would end up being labeled as "perma-leakers" forced to live at all times with a constant stream of seminal fluid dripping from both of their flaccid and hard dicks. Brenton shuddered at the notion that he could become a perma-leaker. The very idea that rapists could hunt him more easily than a standard Blacklister sent chills down his spine. He glared at Garryt and mouthed, "I know what you did."

While Garryt mouthed back, "prove it," and made a condescending kiss face. Brenton was left with little-to-no other options: he had to ejaculate if he had any hopes of leaving this table. He grabbed onto his rowdy rager and began to slowly, quietly stroke it as softly as he could. Brenton could feel the soft, sweet pleasure of skin-to-skin contact and all that was brought with it. He slid his hand up as silently as his body would allow before sluggishly letting it slide back down. With so many people closest to him, one little misstep, one soft moan could alert everyone to the hardened problem that he held in his hand. If Brenton's penis had a mouth, it would've been moaning or screaming with delight at this exact moment. Instead it only convulsed as its master capitulated to its wishes. Brenton could feel one of the heavy, sticky tears it made when it became overjoyed or upset. He felt it slide down from the singular eye, down over his fingers, before smashing into the untainted ground below. He looked madly around, eager to determine if anyone else had noticed what it was that he was doing. It was only Garryt that had taken notice and he was too busy gloating at the havoc he was wreaking in that moment. Brenton wasn't sure what his ultimate goal was or even if the strawberry blonde jock had one. The only thing he knew was that whatever it was, the Blacklister was going to be humiliated. Brenton slid his fingers back up and down carefully establishing the softest rhythm possible without alerting the rest of the family. The conversation had turned to other matters of family concern at the moment. Brenton was too focused on what it was that he was trying to do to free his spooge in the safest manner possible to care what was being said. He bit down as another moan tried to force its way out from behind his lips. The erotic sensuality grew greater and greater with each passing moment. It was becoming too much for him to take. He could feel his balls churning, readying, preparing for a burst of hot, sticky, fresh serving of Grade-A man chowder. Another stroke and another and another - "almost there," he thought, "Almost, ALMOST!"

"OH GOD," it gushed out; it gushed out and splattered against the underside of the table, coating the wood in his male milk. It kept pumping and pumping as he moaned and panted, pleasure overpowering what remaining self-control he had. He tried to stop it, tried to control it but there was no taming of this wicked shrew. It just felt so damned good, so sweet, to just let go and sling it all over the underside of the picnic table. As the last of it petered out, he opened his eyes to see his family shocked by what they had just witnessed. It was Austin who took control of the situation.

"Man, that was some excellent lemonade, Aunt Bethany," he smiled looking at the drink. "I mean really, really good."

Bethany looked confused, "uhhhh, thanks... I guess?"

"Really, really good," Austin got up, part of his pants wet and dripping with some of Brenton's man jus.

"Austing, honey, is everything ok," Austin heard his mother as he grabbed his cousin before dragging him inside.

"Just wonderful - wonderful lemonade," Austin called back, ignoring his mother.

Back in the house, Austin tossed Brenton in the same chair that he had been in earlier that afternoon. He looked at Brenton's face, then down at the nudist's still stiffened pole. He watched as it pulsated with life, leaking out blobs of post pleasure spunk, demanding more attention. "You shot your wad, didn't you?" Brenton nodded shamefully and hung his head, his eyes landing on the hilt of his erection. "God, what are we gonna do with you?"

"But it wasn't my fault," Brenton protested looking back up at his cousin.

"Well whose fault was it, then?"

"It was - it was Garryt's!"

"Garryt's? How? Why? How?"

"He - he -"

"He spiked your drink didn't he?" Brenton woefully nodded again. "It was with Nuagra, wasn't it?"

"I - I think so... I guess so."

"That fucker; I'm gonna have to -" it was then that Brenton gave another groan, his nuts and vas deferens were filled to the brim with frosted goodness. "Hang on cuz! I'm gonna getcha the bucket! Don't move!"

"Hurry!" Brenton was in a bit of pain as he started feeling backed up between his legs again. He could feel his dick-snot as it violently bashed itself against the walls of its holding cell, eager to escape the prison that held it. He wanted to pull on his pudd, but knew it best to wait. The Blacklister didn't have much time if he hoped to keep his body in manageable form. He wondered how long he really did have before becoming a perma-leaker. Was it hours? Minutes? Seconds? He didn't know and didn't really want to find out. Brenton wasn't too keen on leaving a fresh trail of daddy slime in his wake, advertising to the whole world that he was nothing more than a hornball. He could hear Austin as the golden blonde bombshell came bounding down the stairs, bucket in hand.

"Hang on buddy," he called out as he crossed the living room, and ricocheted into the kitchen. With a loud clang, he dropped the bucket between Brenton's legs. Brenton immediately went to town as Austin prepared to leave the kitchen. "Are you ok," Austin asked before Brenton nodded and the bombshell ran out the door. Brenton would spend the next several minutes pleasuring himself, too engulfed to notice anyone outside or what they were doing. In between orgasms, however, he could see the distant image of Austin and Garryt fighting in the yard, with Austin getting in the first shove. Brenton didn't care that Austin was fighting his battle, nor did he care who was going to win. His only concern, nay - his whole world - was in the palm of his hand. Each stroke was another gift from God, a god that brought cruelty and kindness with it in every blow. He sat there as the minutes ticked by, pumping out round after round of fresh man ranch into the bucket. It was magical, passionate, consuming, and tiring all melded into a giant mess of wonder and desire. Another blast followed another allowing him to empty himself into the bucket. Moaning and panting had moved past a reactionary act and into a necessity as he coped with the sudden, all subsuming ecstasy. Soon he found that a whopping thirty minutes had ticked by and a quarter of the rusty bucket had been filled with his spooge. As he at there, basking in the warm loving afterglow of the multiple orgasms, his penis had finally calmed down and was returning to a more dormant, subservient state. It was then that Austin came back in, looking a little shabby, but overall in good spirits and not severely harmed. The guy only had one black eye that was more than likely going to swell up over the next few days, but that was tomorrow's problem. Right now, he was only concerned with his cousin's well-being.

"So, you feeling better," he queried as he covered his new shiner with his left hand. He reached into the fridge, fished out some ice from the freezer, and poured it into a plastic bag that he managed to obtain beforehand. He placed the bag over his fresh new injury as he turned back to Brenton.

"I'm fine - it's you that I am worried about," Brenton stood up as his semi-flaccid junk rolled back down to its sleeping position.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine - I promise. Garryt's got one mean right hook, but I got in a few good licks, too. What about your nuts, man? Do they feel empty?"

"As empty as they could possibly be." Brenton grabbed at Austin's ice sack, "here let me see it."

"No, no... I'm good, I swear. It's best if I keep icing it for the time being, anyways. So are you gonna go to a hotel with your dad or do you wanna stay with me longer and see what sorta mischief we could get into?"

"It's probably best if I go to the hotel with dad. I think one fight a day is all I can handle. Besides, I don't think you'd be able to see too well with both eyes sealed shut."

"True, true; so I'll see ya tomorrow, right cuz?"

"Right! Best friends for life?"

"Best friends for life!"

Brenton entered the hotel lobby, his dad carrying the luggage inside. Brenton, as always, carried only his toothbrush, wallet, and smartphone. His long schlong bounced off his warm flesh as a bellhop stood in the lobby staring at it. "Sweet God almighty," the Non-Blacklister bellhop whistled as Brenton passed him. The bellhop started matching the Blacklister's pace as he tried to chat up the nudist. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the most biteable nipples, ever?" Brenton rolled his eyes as he watched the bellhop continue to creep on him. "I mean, really - they're so plump and juicy and delectable. Here, let me show you," the bellhop stood in front of Brenton's path, stopping the twenty-nine year old from advancing. When Brenton went left, the bellhop went right and when Brenton went right, the bellhop went left. No matter what direction the nudist went in, his path was blocked by this lout. The bellhop leaned in and placed his mouth around Brenton's left nipple, giving the Blacklister a quick nip. Brenton moaned as shivers of pleasure were sent ricocheting throughout his smooth, lithe, exposed swimmer's body. "See, I toldja," the bellhop said as he briefly pulled his head back before leaning over and clamping down on Brenton's right nipple. Another moan as pain and pleasure set his whole body ablaze, his cock stirring to life from the sweet whispers of allure. Anytime he could muster up the effort to pull away from the molestations of this boorish bellhop, the churlish beast would give him another nip on one of his nipples. Back and forth the pair of them played their little game of cat and mouse, forcing Brenton to become harder and harder with each bite. Brenton knew that he was in dire straits as this classless creature had found power over him. Just as Brenton's male summit was about to reach full peak, his dad interrupted the erotic dance that had been unfolding.

"Is there something my son can help you with," Jared asked as he stared daggers at the bellhop.

"So-so-son?" Jared nodded as the bellhop pulled away, all of a sudden felling even more exposed than Brenton. "Ya-you're his father?" Jared nodded again, crossing his arms after setting his luggage down. "Uhhh, na-no thanks!" The bellhop scurried away with his tail between his legs as Brenton sighed with relief. The father-son pair approached the counter where the concierge stood with rapt attention behind the desk.

"Checking in," the man gave a big smile as he looked at the two men with eager anticipation.

"Yes, Robertson, party of two..."

"Ahhh, here it is," the man tapped away at the keyboard. "The honeymooner's suite, right?"

"Yeah, yes..." Jared gave the man behind the counter a sheepish look. He turned to Brenton and shrugged, "it was all they had at the time."

"And who is this lucky fellow? You're husband?"

"He's my son!"

"Really? I would've never have guessed! Such a fine specimen of masculinity must be able to get with any fellow that he could possibly want."

"I'm straight!"

"Of course, sir," the man playfully smiled, "as we all are, here. Well here are the keys," the man handed the two plastic cards to the father-son duo. "James -" the concierge called as the bellhop from earlier started to jog over.

"No, not him," Jared interrupted, "don't you have any blacklisted bellhops?"

"Indeed we do," the man picked up a phone from behind the desk, and tapped a few buttons. "What ethnicity is your preference?"

"I. Don't. Care. Just give me one, anyone will do!"

The concierge rolled his eyes as if to say, "one of those types." After making a connection, he shifted the receiver to more helpful postion. "Hello, guest services? Please send out Umberto! We have one of those type of guests, here, who could use his special finesse!" The man placed the receiver down and turned his attention back to Jared, "it'll be just one more second."

"One of those guests? What do y-" Jared was interrupted by the concierge reaching out and pointing somewhere in the distance.

"Here he is now," the man announced as Jared turned to look in the direction that the concierge was pointing to. Both Brenton and Jared's eyes widened as they took in what was possibly the most sublime Blacklister to have ever walked the Earth. To say that he was big, muscular, and drop dead gorgeous was an insult to this god in human form. A little bellhop cap was strapped over his head, but that did little to hide the most perfect forest of obsidian hair that anyone had ever seen. His arms were the size of fully ripened watermelons, giving everyone the impression that he could snap a man's neck like a twig without even trying. His pecs were large and in charge, as though they would say, "I'm your daddy now, bitch!" On each pec muscle was the teen?si?est nipple that a man could biologically have, while being so sharp that they looked like they could cut a diamond right down the center. His pecs only accented his rigid, tough six pack that appeared as though they had been carved into a rock face by bare hands. The six pack gave way to a v-line that had not a single strand of hair near it. It was as if this god on legs had shaved it all off, along with any hair under his armpits. That only left his elephantine, trunk-like cock dangling between his legs all the more exposed to any would-be predators. With each step, the sound of flesh beating against flesh filled every corner, every point, every angle of the room with that angelic chorus. His skin was perfectly roasted to perfection; a smooth, soft, hairless, supple, roast of "sinnamen" perfection. He jogged up to the front desk, ignoring the other men as their jaws hung in midair, eyes wide as they tried to comprehend what it was that they were looking at.

"See," the naked bellhop's voice was just as smooth and seductive as the rest of his body was. It almost sounded as a choir of male angels had just sung out the word.

"Yes, Umberto," the man addressed the living god as the concierge gave the two new arrivals the biggest victory-eat-shit grin that he had to offer. "Please see the Robertsons to their honeymoon suite, room 411, right away." The concierge handed a third card to the smoldering sex spot with legs.

"See... at wonce seen-yore mana'her," his accent was as thick as he was.

"Oh and Umberto?"

"See?"

"Please make sure both parties' needs are thoroughly satisfied before leaving the room. We don't want to leave them too wound up tonight. They'll need all the sleep that they can get."

Umberto gave a knowing grin, "see. Rye ahway!"

The father-son duo followed the naked brute over to the elevator, and climbed inside, smiles plastered across both their faces. "Uhhhh - hey cutie - sexy! Can I get your name," the creepy bellhop called out as he watched Brenton enter the lift. "Or maybe a room number? Or a date? Hello, baby?" The doors shut out the crestfallen bellhop's face as he turned to walk away, mumbling to himself.

Both father and son looked over the large lummox as the elevator climbed through the hotel's several story tower. Brenton leaned back as he checked out Umberto's exposed ass. It was so round, so perfectly plump, that it blew past needing-to-be-bit-like-an-apple-on-a-tree before ending up in perfection-incarnate. It was then that Brenton caught Jared leaning back, staring at this plump, juicy morsel. Brenton pointed at the galoot's heiny, and mouthed "it's soooo big!"

Jared mouthed back, "I know, right!" Jared returned to his normal angle and spoke up. "Soooo, uhhh, tell me... do you get - what I mean to say is, do you like - ummmmm-"

Brenton cut his dad off, "what he means is do you have sex with all the customers?"

Umberto shook his head, "no... solaw-mint-ay lows moo-chaw-chohs. Ohnly deh mins." He remained cool, casual, and relaxed despite the very personal and highly inappropriate attention that he was getting. As the elevator rose, so too did the tent poles in between both Jared's and Brenton's respective legs.

"You wanna have sex with us," asked Jared, half-jokingly.

"See, eye won-ah ha'f deh sex-ez wit' deh tooo off jous."

"Really?" Umberto nodded without breaking his gaze from the numerical floor readout of the elevator.

"Is this because your boss asked you to do so," Brenton wrinkled his face up with suspicion.

"Jess, buht eye alsoh t'ink jous are deh prittees." Both Jared's and Brenton's mouth dropped open wide at this revelation. The very notion that someone like him could be interested in guys like them was nigh impossible. With a happy ding, the double doors opened wide and Umberto climbed out of the lift. "Are jous caw-meengs?" Both Jared and Brenton nodded slowly before they exited the vehicle, following in this stud muffin's wake. The sound of flesh bashing against flesh soon filled the hallway as the trio made their way down the brightly lit passageway. After passing a few doors, they finally arrived at the room that had been established as Brenton and his dad's place of residence for the duration of their stay. Umberto placed the card into the slot, turned the golden handle, and pushed through the double doors. The room was large and very posh, decked out from top-to-bottom in white and gold. There were plush velvety chairs lined with the softest fabric possible. Even the couches were decked out in the downy, fluffy fabric. Brenton's heart sank as he looked over the sitting furniture. He knew that the whole room had been engineered to keep him sexually aroused the entire time that he stayed in it. Even the bed had silken sheets most likely. Jared grabbed Umberto's beefy meat paws and pulled the stud up the three stairs and into the bedroom.

"Come on," he smiled as he looked the living god right in his piercing brown eyes. "Let's get you that tip! You have more than earned it!"

"See," Umberto answered as he was pulled into the boudoir. He looked like a big kid that had just been given a box of candy.

"Brenton, you ok by yourself for awhile," Jared stared at his new boy toy thinking about all of the fun the two of them were about to embark on.

"Sure dad, I can wait for my turn, I suppose."

"Good, good," Jared pulled the curtain across the threshold between the bed and the rest of the room. It wasn't long before the sounds of pants thudding against a plush carpet and the sounds of schoolboy giggling soon filled the room.

"That's it baby, let daddy worship you as the god you are."

"See, paw-pee," Umberto replied, "may goose-tah moochoh."

"Those are some big fucking arms you got on you. They look like two big Christmas hams and those legs... you could crush a man's skull with nary a thought, couldn't you?"

"See paw-pee! May goose-tah moochoh!"

"And speaking of legs, is that your third leg or are you trying to smuggle out three cans of gravy?"

"See!"

"Oh we'll see! We'll see all night if we have to dahrlin'! Now daddy wants to help you out with your giant smuggling operation, ok? How about you stick your gravy can in my special compartment and we'll get you past security, kay?"

"See," Brenton suddenly felt uncomfortable at the idea that his father was about to get fucked.

"Come on you horny beast! Help daddy help you complete that smuggling operation! That's it! That's it - OHHHHHHH GOOOOOOODDDDDDD! IT'S SO HUGE! OHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKK! IT'S RIPPING ME UP! AHHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIITTTT! BRENTON - BRENTON! IT'S SO FUCKING HUGE, BRENTON! IT'S SO FUCKING HUGE! I FUCKING LOVE IT! I WANNA MARRY IT! I WANT IT IN ME EVERY FUCKING - OH, OH, OH - HERE IT - AHHHAHHAHAHA!" Brenton cringed at the sounds of his father pumping out a second round of fresh spermy goop into the one and only bed in the room that was available to them. The idea that - wait - go back! One and only bed? ONLY ONE BED? Who would use it? Who would get it? "OH FUCK BRENTON, I'M - I'M - OHHH-HUUUHHH!" Brenton shuddered at the sounds of a third and then a fourth load being emptied into the only bed that was available assaulted his ears. As the deep, passionate, pitiless roar of Umberto's orgasms ended up in his father's ass, Brenton began to wonder if this was going to be his new private hell. Jared exited the bedchamber, sweat dripping off his slight beer belly and naked frame. He made his way over to the minifridge, reached in, and grabbed a Fruit Punch Gatorade before noticing Brenton, sitting there. Brenton had gone flaccid and wondered how soon he could get out of the hotel room. "Brenton," Jared smiled, "hey Brenton. Look at the work this god did on my hole." Jared turned around, bent over and spread his cheeks, showing off his prize to his son. Brenton vomited a little into his mouth as he saw the gaping red mess that now dripped with Umberto's juices out of what used to be Jared's virginal rectum. "See? This is what your new daddy did to me! We're gonna get married and I'm gonna leave him everything! He's gonna do this to me multiple times a day when he moves into our home!"

"Our home," Brenton raised an eyebrow, "what do you -" Brenton stopped himself. He didn't mean Brenton's mom and Jared's home, he meant Umberto and Jared's home. Brenton had forgotten that his mom and dad separated at the start of the Great Revelation. It all came rushing back like a tsunami crashing into a beach. The countless arguments, the affairs his mom had with other women, all of it. His dad was heartbroken and this was the first time he had seen his father truly happy in years. Maybe Umberto was going to be a good thing for him after all.

"Come on Umberto," Jared called back, "let's start consummating the marriage right now."

"See, sin-yore, see," Umberto grumbled with a big charming style. "Air-ehs me eh-spoh-soh; jous arrrre me haws-ben."

"See, my big Latin love god, see!" Jared closed the curtain once again after grabbing another bottle of ice cold Gatorade. That would probably cost him quite a lot later, but Brenton knew his dad could afford it. "FUCK ME UMBERTO, FUCK ME HARD! I'M A BIG BOY! I CAN TAKE IT DAHRLIN!" Another "oof" and "oh god" and even a "see paw-pee" made Brenton realize it was going to be a long, trying week.

It was the day of the big meet up for the entire family and outside one or two meetings, Brenton and Garryt had barely spoken to each other. In fact it was Brenton and Austin that had spent most of their time together and away from Jared and his new lover. Jared had taken Umberto to introduce him to his brothers Mark and Owen. Owen and Jessica both loved the man immediately, welcoming him with open loving arms, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. Mark, Garryt, and Bethany, however, met Umberto with a judging eye. They barely tolerated Brenton's mother, and now that Jared had taken on a Blacklister as a spouse was beyond the pale, especially when Jared spent most of his time getting it on with his new fiance and especially since Jared was a bottom for a Blacklister. "A Blacklister," Mark snarled, "a common, filthy, no good Blacklister! You can't continue besmirching the family with such horrid creatures!" It was then that Jared and Mark got into a heated argument with references dating all the way back to Jared's first crush. Jared apparently had always had a high sex-drive and would fuck anything with a pulse... ANYTHING! This, however, was the first time ever he had allowed someone or something to fuck him. All Brenton knew was that his father was never been happier in his life and couldn't stop chirping about his new fiance's virtues, even if no one else really wanted to hear about it. Still, those that listened would put up a brave face and let him prattle on endlessly about Umberto this, and Umberto that. As far as everyone else was concerned the former bellhop nudist was a member of the family whether Mark and his ilk liked it or not. The only ones in Mark's little clan that seemed to be ok with the change were the twins. And despite their father's wishes, they really didn't care who their uncle slept with or married. They only wanted to have fun, being eighteen and all.

Brenton, Jared, and Umberto arrived with bells on at the dining hall that Great Aunt Rita had made just before she passed. Jared had been prattling on about how hard Umberto would shove his love beast deep into Jared's guts and that they would soon be going for a new record after the festivities died down. Brenton wanted to get far away from his dad and his new love interest and as soon as the ride-share had come to a complete stop, he made a break for the dining hall, his flaccid member bouncing wildly about. He hadn't taken more than two steps into the room, when half a dozen leering, judging eyes fell upon him. He could feel each and every one of them as they studied him and his long third leg. His trunk began to stiffen... growing... getting harder and harder as he thought about all those people staring at him, even if they were painting him in a negative light. He had chosen to wear the cuffs and collar and hat that he had on his first day in this foreign land and suddenly felt a little bit out of place for wearing them. The nudist looked around the room, hoping to find Austin and his family. Then he saw him: his rival's father, Mark. He swallowed hard as he felt his blood run cold with the chill of icy terror. His member, however, stood up to full attention, loud and proud as it soaked in all of the attention by proxy. It convulsed and thrashed about, wanting - NO - demanding some fun! It was then that one of his dad's cousins came over to where Brenton stood with his unrepentant shame shaft. The woman took a sip of her beverage, "don't you have any shame?" Her soft words cut deep into Brenton's mind, slicing him up with all of the precision of a surgeon cutting through a patient. His brown viper became violent and wrathful, snarling at the woman, hissing with liquid vitriol at her hateful words. "God, put it away or leave! We don't want a Blacklister here OR in this family!" Brenton tried to hide his shame erection as he stood there, feeling dejected and self-conscious. He felt the tug of a tiny hand on his bare leg. He looked down and found a tiny little pair of eyes innocently staring up at him.

"E'cue me," the little girl in the pink chiffon dress was vying for his attention. "Why are you naked?" The female cousin picked up the little girl and whisked her away from Brenton.

"Come on sweetie; don't talk to that freak! He's dangerous!" Just as Jared and Umberto entered the room, laughing like a pair of schoolboys, Brenton made his exit. Jared stared at the judging eyes as he surveyed all that his son had left behind.

One of the men in the room shook his head with disappointment. "Really cuz," he chided the new arrivals, "really?"

"And this is why I don't associate myself with these people," Brenton could hear his dad say as the door closed behind him.

Brenton sprinted up the hill and into the forest as he just wanted to be alone, free from all of the hypercritical stares. As he ran deeper and deeper into the forest, the only sounds he could hear were those coming from his apoplectic, virile yogurt slinger slapping against his taut, exposed swimmer's abs. Droplets of body heated hate sludge were slung every which way, some of it collecting on his bare chest and manly jaw. As he sat in a small sandy area covered in a thicket of pine trees, huffing and panting, his tenacious, lecherous, milky, shame sweat dripped slowly down his left nipple. It slithered down his abs, mixing with the rest of his body's fluid along the way before it splashed onto the sandy pine covered ground. The nudist scanned the area, making sure that he was alone before he started pulling on his long one eyed willy. The crushing of sand had determined that he wasn't alone. Before he knew what was happening, he had been knocked to the ground. The nudist struggled against his attackers, flailing madly about as he tried to get away. "Let me go," he cried as he was impelled into the ground, "you fuckers! You fucking fuckers! I'll get you all!"

"The fuck you won't," the voice sounded so familiar... then it hit Brenton, it was Garryt!

"Garryt, is that you - you dumb shit!"

"Yeah, it's me - and the twins!"

"Hey, Brenton," Kyle said.

"Hi Brenton," Quynn announced, "we're sorry. He made us do it!"

"Yeah, he made us!"

"Then let me go," Brenton tried reasoning with them. "You don't have to do this-"

"Oh shut the fuck up," Garryt barked. "Just shut the fuck right up! They'll do what they're told or they'll suffer a hundred times over later!" Garryt turned his attention to the twins, "keep him pinned NO MATTER WHAT!" The twins nodded as Brenton once again tried to wrestle himself free. "Now, let's see what all those guys at the frat are talking about, shall we?" Garryt undid his pants as he examined his naked cousin's round, hairless, bubble butt as the Blacklister flailed madly about.

"Let me go," Brenton demanded, "I swear that I'll get you for this Garryt!"

"No," Garryt dropped to his knees, "you," the jock leaned over his cousin, "won't!" Garryt could feel how firm his cousin's cheeks were as he started dry humping the naked biracial stud. Brenton tried to buck his hips back in an effort to knock his attacker off, and instead only rubbed his cheeks against Garryt's firmness. Garryt moaned, the feeling of such softness pressing against his rape rod was enough to shivers up through him. "Damn, this is what the bros have been going on and on about. Fuck cuz, your cheeks are so fucking amazing!"

"Hey Garryt," Quynn turned to his older brother with anxiety in his voice. "I don't think that we should be doing this!"

"Yeah," affirmed Kyle, "what if mom or dad or someone else comes after us?"

"They won't," Garryt snapped, "dad would do it himself, but he's already raping his secretary at work! No good dirty Arab Blacklister! All he does all day is whack off! Now, keep Brenton pinned, or else!"

"Ok," they mournfully replied in unison as they kept Brenton held in place. Garryt pulled back briefly as he regained his centering. He wanted to draw this out as long as possible so he could enjoy it as much as he could.

"And now," his attention was back on Brenton, "now let's see if he's as tight as I've been led to believe." Brenton felt it; it felt like someone was pushing some sort of baseball bat or a lead pipe inside of his anus. He screamed: demanding that Garryt stop, ordering everyone to let him go, dictating to all of them that he had never been penetrated before! "Ohhhhhhh yeahhhhhhh, cuz," Garryt hissed, "that Blacklister ass is so fucking tight!" Brenton shuddered as he felt his insides slowly being forced apart by the big, thick jock's brute. Bit by savage bit, his insides were ripped and cleaved as he screamed and shouted. He could feel the raw power, the brutal vicisouness of Garryt's rape rod as it tore through every defense, ever bastion that his guts could offer. Garryt closed his eyes; it was heaven for him. He had never felt something so snug, so warm, so perfect as his cousin's virgin-like anus wrapped around his man ripper. "Oh fuck," Garryt snarled as he laced his hands around his cousin's forehead, "that's it! Take it all inside like the good little fuck-toy that you are!" He yanked on Brenton's forehead with his hands, "EVERY tug LAST yank INCH pull!" With each pull of his head, Brenton let out a little yelp as Garryt tore deeper into him. "There, there," Garryt sighed, "we got it all in. That wasn't so bad, now was it? No, no... I rather liked it! I can see why the boys at the frat love raping your kind! It feels like heaven on Earth!"

Brenton shrieked as he tried again to fight off his rapist. "AHHHHH-HAHH," Garryt's penis was beyond brutal, beyond merciless, beyond evil. It took and took and took all of Brenton's virginty whether the twenty-nine year old nudist wanted it taken or not. "FUCK OFF! FUCK OFF!" Garryt cruelly laughed as at his cousin's protests. They had become a source of entertainment, an audio aphrodisiac that kept Garryt's sodomy shaft rock-fucking-hard. Another slam caused Brenton to scream again, "STAHHHHHAHHHAP!"

"Oh no," Garryt viciously proclaimed as he pulled his member all the way out. He looked down at his stiff staff as it had now been covered in Brenton's insides. "I'm not gonna `til I empty my nards of all that sticky goop! Your ass was made for Non-Blacklisters and I intend on taking my share of it!" Brenton breathed with a bit of relief as the pressure had been removed, but the pain... the pain of his guts being plundered still remained fresh inside. "Look at all that pretty, warm virgin's blood on it, twins." The twins looked away, unable to face the horrors that they wer forced into partaking in. "Isn't it beautiful? Isn't it a marvel? It's the way that this world was meant to be! It's perfection incarnate!" Garryt laughed before thrusting it back into Brenton at full force cutting Brenton's scream off in midsentence as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Brenton choked and sputtered as he fought with his own body to get the air he so desperately craved. It felt like an eternity before his lungs were filled up once again. Garryt started to speed up, his dick throbbing inside his cousin as the sounds of slapping joined with Brenton's screams and shrieks. "Almost there, Brenton... almost there!" Soon he was bouncing on top of Brenton like a fish trying to get back in the water. "Oh god, cuz!" Garryt could feel the pressure building, his balls tingling, as they prepared for what lay ahead. "HERE - IT - AHHHAHHAHAHA!" Fiery hot spurts of rape sauce blasted deep inside Brenton's innards, coating them with Garryt's love mucus. Spray after sticky spray filled up Brenton's rectum with wicked gunk! "UHHHHHHH," Garryt collapsed on top of his cousin, soaking in the endorphins of the after math.

"YOU SICK FUCK," it was Austin who came charging in. "HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU! HE'S A HUMAN BEING!" Austin shoved Garryt away from Brenton as the twins released their cousin. "AND YOU TWO," Austin roared as the twins looked up at him in fear as they let him go.

"He made us," Kyle protested.

"Yeah, made us," Quynn echoed.

Austin angrily sighed after seeing their honesty and candor, "fine, leave - before I change my mind!" The twins scurried away before they re-entered Austin's crosshairs. Austin turned and continued on his rampage against Garryt. "NOW AS FOR YOU," Austin was staring daggers at Garryt who was laughing maniacally at the situation. Brenton groaned as Garryt's sloppy spooge oozed and wept out his spent, battered hole. He wept into the soft, warm, sandy ground, his mind all but broken, his dick-snot mixing with what lay beneath him. He had managed - no, been forced - to shoot his wad during Garryt's brutal, heartless rape. He remembered how he shot over and over against his bare, lithe chest, the muck clinging to his naked frame. He had shot so hard that the warm spunk now dripped off his silken strippers' collar. Why did the rape make him orgasm? What about being brutally sodomized by his own cousin was so sexually arousing? These questions flooded into the Blacklister's mind as he laid there weeping. He could hear some shouting and arguing, but couldn't make it out. It was like hearing a fight at the other end of the hall and Brenton had more important things to think about at the moment. It wasn't until Austin came and lifted him to his feet did the Blacklister focus on what was going on. "Come on," Austin told him, "we're getting out of here." The pair of them made their way to Austin's car and drove away after Austin lowered him into the passenger's seat, never to be seen by these people again.

Ep?i?logue:

It had been three years since that horrible event and both boys had made a pact never to speak of it. Both Brenton and Austin had attended Jared's second wedding, this time to Umberto. Uncle Owen and Aunt Jessica attended the event, both parties happy to see Jared finally getting another chance at wedded bliss. Even the twins, Quynntin and Kyle, attended their uncle's ceremony against their parents' wishes. Both twins were relieved at having absolved of any wrong doing by Brenton after they fully explained themselves to their cousin. As far as everyone else was concerned, those that attended the Cortez-Robertson wedding was considered dead to the rest of the Robertsons. Brenton's mom sent a card and a new, state-of-the-art blender to the wedded couple that showed up two hours before the nuptials kicked off.