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"Purple Blanket" by Jonathon Earl Bowser


The Video
by Platypus
plupy@surfbest.net
copyright 2007 by Platypus, all rights reserved
* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains
explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *

Tyson was at home in front of his brand new computer after
seeing the ad on Fred's List Dot Com. He'd been considering
this opportunity for what seemed like hours now – ever since
he'd come home from school that Friday. The ad registered
once again in his brain. Should he or shouldn't he?
Boys sought for video production. Ages 13 and up. To apply,
mel@famouspictures.com Send a recent photo to be considered.
Wow, was it tempting. I'm old enough. Finally the temptation
proved too great. It can't hurt Tyson thought. His friends
would be jealous. Nobody knew or even suspected how talented
he was. Maybe he'd change his name someday to one of those
showbiz names. Something like Dash or Stone or Rock, instead
of just plain old Tyson.
The invitation came in the email just an hour later. He'd
received the address to go to one of the big hotels in the
city. Meet a guy in the lobby after asking for "Mel." Easy.
Tyson had plans Saturday morning. Tyson was going to be a
movie star.
"I'm going to the library downtown to finish my homework,
Mom. I'll be back in a few hours." He didn't like lying to
his mother, but it was only a fib. He WAS headed downtown.
He picked out the guy right away only a few minutes after
Tyson told the clerk that he'd come out to be in the video.
The clerk nodded and made a call up to somebody's room –
probably the director's. This was so exciting! It would be
wicked kewl! The guy, an older gent with a mustache and
salt-and-pepper sideburns, smiled and said, "Come with me
kid." Tyson followed him into the elevator like a puppy dog.
Not a single alarm bell went off in the boy's head.
Tyson was still behind the gent when he knocked on the door
to the 9th floor suite. All these rooms look alike, Tyson
mused. He didn't even notice the room number in the thrill
of the moment. It was really happening. Tyson had arranged
this himself, without even a casting agency or anybody's
help.
The door opened and they both walked in.
"Oh, I see you've brought the boy for the video. He looks
like a good choice. Nearly perfect, I'd say."
The director eyed the boy from head to toe. He was a dirty
blonde with a wisp-tail of hair decorating the back of his
neck, but otherwise clean-cut.
"How old are you?" the director asked. He was dark-haired
and swarthy, with a trace of an accent from India or
someplace foreign.
Tyson looked around the suite, like two rooms joined
together. He saw chairs, a table, a kitchenette, a bathroom,
and a large King-sized bed. He'd been in hotel suites
before, and this one looked like a thousand others, nothing
special. Nearest him in the room were four rugged-looking
dudes besides the one who brought him, but no one else. No
other kids, or parents, or anybody was going to be in this
video. This is kind of weird, Tyson thought. He was having
second thoughts but didn't say anything. Now there were
alarm bells, ding, ding, ding, ding, ding-a-ling. Finally
Tyson said something.
"I thought I was going to be in a real movie – like a video
for Hollywood or something." The men just stared at him for
a tense moment, as if they were wolves eyeing a rabbit.
Tyson was fast realizing the gravity of his situation, and
felt a churning in the pit of his stomach. The boy now
wanted out. "Ah, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. I
got to go. Thanks for picking me," Tyson said, flashing a
weak insincere smile, attempting to leave. But as he turned
toward the door, one of the men grabbed him.
"You're not going anywhere, kid," he said, and slapped Tyson
hard across the face. It hurt, and left a red impression on
his cheek. Almost crying, the boy hissed out, pleading.
"What do you guys want from me?"
"Take off your clothes," the director said softly.
"No, I won't do that," Tyson said. Tyson was wearing a tie-
dyed summer sports shirt, Levis, hightops, cotton socks,
Hanes briefs.
"Alright then, bring him over to the bed, hold him down, and
strip him," the director said.
"Like Hell you will, you fucking pervs!"
Tyson tried desperately to escape, punching and kicking at
his captors, struggling for all he was worth at first but
then he was held fast by all two men with the exception of
the director and the camera guy, one of the men was holding
a digital video mini-cam, and they managed to half drag and
half plop the kicking and screaming boy onto the King-sized
bed and soon Tyson was face-down on the bedspread. As one
man held his shoulders in a vise-grip, another kept trying
to grab Tyson's wildly flailing legs, and after being kicked
hard several times, another of the men succeeded in sitting
on the boy's thighs, pinning them, while a third one untied
Tyson's laces on his right hightop sneaker, the camera came
on, was in record mode, holding the boy's right foot
steady, the man removed the sneaker, then bared Tyson's
right foot by peeling off the sock; after some further
struggle, the same man succeeded in removing the left
hightop and sock, the boy was still struggling and flailing
and kicking, then Tyson felt his shirt being pulled off and
over his head, removed entirely, shirtless and barefoot, the
still struggling boy was turned over onto his backside,
slapped again in the face, harder this time, punched in the
arm. Someone undid his belt buckle, unzipped his fly, began
pulling his Levis down his squirming but no longer flailing
legs (somebody was digging their fingernails into his bare
soles and twisting his toes the more he resisted). He felt
the jeans twisted off his feet and heard them as they were
tossed across the suite onto the nearby table as it was his
own belt buckle smacking the surface. Stripped to his
briefs, Tyson felt very vulnerable. "You fucking bastards!"
he yelled. Hearing that outburst, someone punched Tyson in
the mouth, making his lip bleed, and the boy tasted his own
blood. The punch also chipped one of Tyson's teeth, a molar
fortunately. He began drifting off toward a moment of
blissful unconsciousness until he heard somebody say "Briefs
too?" as if in a dream, and the director said, "What do you
think?" answering the question with a question. Still dazed,
he felt somebody's fingers tugging at the waistband of his
Hanes, pulling them down and off his legs too, now he
started squirming a bit again, but stark naked, he was
clearly being photographed.
"Spread-eagle him with the cuffs," the director ordered. He
first felt his arms being extended above his head, and each
wrist spread apart, cuffed to the bedposts there, and then
his legs were spread way apart, and his feet roughly
handled, and each ankle was secured with the handcuffs to
the bedposts down by his feet. The camera guy was told to
pan over Tyson's nude, spread-eagled, and shackled form.
Tyson was now once again fully awake, but terribly
frightened, and at the mercy of his captors. A bit the worse
for wear, he showed only a few bruises on his body at that
point.
"What are you guys going to do?" Tyson asked quietly, more
subdued.
"We're just going to shoot a video," the director said. The
cuffs had a few inches of slack chain so at least Tyson's
feet were still placed comfortably on the wide hotel bed.
"No, I'll be good," Tyson whimpered. He was almost begging.
"We'll see," the director said, while fondling the boy's
bare feet and toes. "Nice toenails too," he remarked. "The
wire please," he said, almost like an afterthought. Someone
handed him two ten inch lengths of barbed wire, the kind
used to keep cattle from roaming the open range. The mini-
cam zoomed in for an extreme close-up. "This has to be done
just right," the director added. He promptly donned thick
work-gloves and without further adieu began winding and
tying the strand of sharp multi-pointed barbed wire around
Tyson's left bare foot, the barbs piercing the skin of the
boy's sole and instep, making it bleed in several places,
and then twisted the cruel wire in between each of his toes,
as Tyson gritted his teeth as hard as he could. Moments
later, the procedure was repeated, "Now for his right one."
The horrid barbed wire was twisted several times around the
bare foot, as the director made sure he'd cut the sensitive
skin in-between each of the boy's toes.
"There," and the camera now revealed a boy in extreme pain,
tears flowing freely but gritting his teeth with his feet
wrapped in the barbed wire, the camera's extreme close-up
clearly showing Tyson's lacerated feet.
"That should hold him a little steadier," someone said.
But now the camera snaked in for a close-up of the boy's
snake, his 13-year-old penis, a sparse growth of pubic hairs
just starting near its base, and his soft, tender testicles.
Below that, because of the boy being spread-eagled, even
Tyson's perineum was exposed in all its glory to the busy
camera.
"Oh, what a pretty little cock this kid has. Let's see if it
has any spunk in it," the director said.
"Do you jerk off?" he asked casually.
The boy's face turned crimson with embarrassment. A trace of
defiance still remained too. "None of your business!" Tyson
hissed.
"Better cooperate," one of the guys said, twisting the
barbed wire around Tyson's already cut and bare left foot,
digging it in deeper into the naked sole and between the
boy's toes. Tyson let out a gasp, almost a scream, but he
didn't want to be gagged so he restrained himself again.
"I'll be good," he managed, sobbing softly.
"Alright then," I want you to think of a pretty girl, or
whatever else you think of to make you lose your spunk, and
try to block out the pain in your feet," the director
purred.
Picking up Tyson's penis by the base, the director began
stroking it gently, also tickling the boy's balls and near
his asshole with a spider's touch. It felt very good and
Tyson began getting hard, despite his best efforts to stay
flaccid.
"He's going to be a macho man," the director said, "but not
quite yet." Tickling Tyson's penis, the director grasped it
firmly, and then his tongue snaked out, and the director
began licking around the circumcised head of the boy's
glans, and then Tyson felt his four-inch hard-on engulfed
deep into the director's mouth – all for the camera's
benefit. Despite his tortured feet and perhaps because of
them, Tyson moaned in ecstasy from the myriad of sensations,
and began moving his hips with his penis in the man's mouth.
Suddenly the director spat out the wet and glistening organ,
but continued tickling the boy everywhere within reach –
chest, belly, tweaking Tyson's sensitive nipples, "Owwh!"
the boy yelled, left than a hard painful tweak to the boy's
right nipple, in-between a few more licks and gentle love-
bites, nibbles on the tender skin of Tyson's glans, and then
the director moved his head away, continuing only with his
fingers on the boy, and suddenly during all this attention,
the boy ejaculated, his excited cock performing for the
camera. Several spurts of thirteen-year-old's near virgin
cum landing on his belly and chest.
"How did that feel?" the director asked.
"I feel like I've just been raped!" Tyson murmured angrily
in another spasm of boyish rage.
"Oh, so you didn't like it? Then you'll have to be punished
again," the director said, a sentiment echoed by the four
other men also populating the suite.
"I didn't mean it," said Tyson, realizing that he should
have said something nicer.
"Too late," the director said. The boy's spattered cum was
cleaned up and removed from his bare belly and chest. His
genitals were washed with a soapy wash cloth and then
immediately dried in preparation for what would happen next.
The mini-cam focused on several instruments brought into
view and displayed on a hotel breakfast-in-bed platter. All
were tiny; a 2 inch long sewing needle, a sharp-pointed
vulture's feather, a burr of pine needles. As one of the
assistants held up Tyson's cute four-inch long penis, the
director used thumb and index fingers to open up the boy's
peehole a bit. The orifice still glistened with a leftover
drop of semen which reflected off the camera's lens. With
the digital video mini-cam again in ECU mode, the director
patiently massaged the boy to erection as he'd done a few
moments before, then he began deftly threading the burr of
pine needles into the kid's hard-on, insert a little at a
time, until the foreign object was embedded about two inches
deep. The boy was still gritting his teeth, almost grinding
them together, as the boy's terror and an unpleasant
sensation began to increase, and then it became painful as
the director slowly twisted the pine burrs around and moved
them in and out, massaging the impaled penis with the burrs
in it, and when the burrs were pulled out against their
grain, the pain suddenly became excruciating, and Tyson
began screaming for the camera's built in audio mike,
especially as the burr came out and went back in and was
slowly dragged out again a millimeter at a time. "Yeowwh!"
became the boy's refrain, and the camera panned up to
Tyson's sobbing face and back down his naked body to his
glans penis, viewed most advantageously in an ECU shot.
The thirteen-year-old was allowed to rest for a few moments,
and then despite his protests, screams, and tears, the long
feather was inserted as the pine burrs had been – straight
into the boy's now very tender urethral opening, with
similar results. Other long needles were jabbed into
different exposed areas of the boy's body – his nipples were
soon bleeding, as were his two areas on the boy's sensitive
scrotum. The original needle was re-used after being dipped
into a powerful disinfectant. It was jabbed under each of
Tyson's toenails, one at a time, but the needle went probing
again and again. His left foot and next his right was held
at the ankle so this punishment could be accomplished more
easily, as Tyson squirmed and thrashed and bawled like a
baby.
Tyson was bleeding in many spots now, blood trickling. The
cruel barbed wire was re-twisted around each foot as the
needles worked his toenails for the camera, and his penis
was also bleeding slightly, and in a grand finale, the long
needle was carefully inched all the way into his hard-on, as
the director twisted and pinched and worked the sharp point
around and around deep inside the boy's erection – and the
camera clicked on and on for what seemed to the boy like
forever and a day – but was probably not more than an hour.
Tyson was allowed to dress again, and handed a one-hundred
dollar bill before he left. He was told that the video would
appear on the Internet and be seen throughout the world. He
found his own way out and scurried to the elevator. Once
back in the hotel's lobby, the boy didn't linger. He didn't
know what to think, except that his body was very sore in
its most sensitive places. "I'll never do anything like
that again," he said to himself out loud when he was back
walking to the bus stop on the busy downtown street.
"Did you get your work done at the library?" Tyson's mother
asked sweetly when he came back into their house.
"Yes, I went downtown" he fibbed again. He was back
upstairs into his bedroom in a flash and closed his door,
which was a bit unusual for this typically gregarious young
teenager.
About a week later, when all the soreness was gone and Tyson
was again able to masturbate, something odd happened. He
imagined being handcuffed and spread-eagled on his own bed
and...


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