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wider—how wide will he have to open for Larry to cram the whole thing down his throat? He presses his lips against the crown, giving it a kiss. He groans and shuts his eyes—
    And suddenly finds himself knocked to his side on the floor, his ears ringing.
    “I told you to stay in the other room, cocksucker. You’re really asking for it, aren’t you? Looks like I’m gonna have to use the prod on you after all. But we’ll wait for Gary to get here first. Meantime, you can hand me that paddle. That’s it. Yeah, stay down there on your hands and knees like a good little cocksucker. Now turn around and show me that butt. Yeah, stick that faggot butt way up, Teddy boy, aim that asshole toward my dick. But you’re not getting it yet. First you’re getting twenty big ones. Queerboy. Peeping Tom. Motherfucker. Yeah, your punishment’s way overdue…”

    *

    Ted’s stuffy little apartment in the attic of the boarding house is empty. No peeping Tom by the window, peering into Larry’s bedroom. No one to witness the spectacle that unfolds in the rooms of Larry’s plush, air-conditioned condo across the way.
    If there were a watcher, he would see a show that outstrips all the wildest fantasies that clouded Ted’s brain on all the nights he crouched here, naked and alone with a dildo up his ass and his dick in his fist, his nose pressed against the window screen, watching Larry in secret and beating his meat.
    He would see two young men in their mid-twenties, clean-cut, broad-shouldered and stacked with muscle, stripped down to their jeans and boots with big cocks jutting from their open flies—
    and a third figure, boyish and naked, with longer hair on his head but no hair at all between his legs, his crotch shaved bald. Teddy boy, nude and glistening with sweat. Clothespins on his nipples, his hands held obediently behind his back while they use him for a punching bag—bending over and clutching his ankles while they take turns blistering his naked ass with the paddle…
    Down on his hands and knees, cantering from room to room while one of them takes a ride on his back and the other follows behind, kicking his ass…
    Stretched across the butcher block table, his head and ass dangling over the edges, plugged with dick at both ends—crouching on Larry’s bed, his ass raised high—reaching back to pull his cheeks apart while Larry pokes the cattle prod into the crack of his ass, and Gary crams his big cock down Teddy’s throat to muffle the screams…
    The show continues as twilight falls, and goes on long into the night. Ted would have given his right arm to watch such a spectacle, kneeling by the window, furtively masturbating in the safety of his room. But the room remains empty, eyeless, blind. Ted is not there to see it. Ted is Teddy boy now, a toy for the Gods.

Daddy’s Boys

    Nic P. Ramsies

    It was three days until his rent was due and Kevin was $500 short. He thought about asking one of his roommates to front him the cash, but they weren’t too happy with him and he was pretty sure that would be the last straw. He also thought about going to the Fenway where on the paths in the neatly manicured community gardens gay men, married bisexuals, closeted guys, and those in denial for many reasons hooked up for fun or pay, or both. In the tall reeds that lined the garden and bordered the winding river, a blowjob could net him $20 each. He did the math: twenty-five blowjobs or eight a night and he could have rent. But he ruled the idea out. It wasn’t that he minded giving so many; he hated that awkward moment that happened every seven or so guys when the john, some desperate man or some married guy, usually wanted to start a conversation or exchange numbers. And frankly, spending three nights in the Fenway despite how much he liked to suck cock seemed unbearable. There had to be a quicker, more interesting way for him to make $500.
    He’d been lazy this month, spending too much time and money taking the ferry