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Rob Taylor knew that he was in deep shit. He thought his arm was broken, and knew he had other injuries as well. He was in a one-man rubber life raft, well away from anyone who could rescue him. He was sure that he would die, but he didn't know if the cause of death would be from drowning, exposure, or the now intense pain that would soon be unbearable. He could twist his neck enough to see a small stream of bubbles rise to the water's surface from a leak in the raft. All that was needed to make things perfect would be a couple of circling sharks. He had plenty of time to ponder the circumstances that led to this situation as he waited for the relief that unconsciousness would bring.
Rob had experienced a relativly normal childhood untill adolescence assaulted his body. His first ejaculation had occurred on the day of his thirteenth birthday, when a visiting younger cousin showed him how to masturbate. He was filled with awe at the sight of the other boy's smooth body, with a penis jutting out of a patch of fine hair, and experienced an immediate erection himself. Later that evening, on a dare and with a promise that ejaculation would not occurr, he took his cousin's dick into his mouth. The salty, musky taste of the penis was not unpleasent, and the hot pungent gush of the unexpected semen was like honey to him. He eventually went down on most of his friends and classmates, even though few chose to reciprocate. He loved the loose dangle of their testicles, and marveled at the was they tucked up high when climax was near and dropped back down as he swallowed their product. He would usually shoot his own load at the same time. Later when they acquired the coarse body hair and thick cocks of adulthood he found his companions repulsive and regressed to the smooth bodies and vigin dicks of younger boys, never forcing, imtimidating, or even allowing them to have any contact with his own prick. He dated throughout his high school years, and married at nineteen when his fiance became pregnent. She miscarried, and divorced him when she learned of his true preferences. His career as a junior high school maintenance technician fitted him perfectly, and his specialty was the obsolete water heating system for the showers. It always seemed to fail when in use, and his immediate presence in the locker room was frequently required, although the girls' system remained troule free. His position enabled him to select his sperm donors, and his position in the system, as well as his victim's doubts about their own sex preferences prevented the kids' fromm ratting him out. Most of them enjoyed what he provided, and he encouraged them to invite their friends to share the bounty. He tried doing groups of three or four, but their lusty libido and lack of control resulted in too much of the teenagers seed being accidently spilled while they watched their companions' performances. Frequent dates with women gave him an appearance of respectibility, but no serious relationships blossomed. Rob's problems started when a boy's father, Joe Clark, discovered Rob cleaning the boy's plumbing system. Joe had suspected that Rob was a fruit by the way he watched boys, and had been keeping an eye on him. He didn't want to traumatize his son with an immediate confrontation; the boy appeared to be enjoying the tratment, and there would be time to staighten that mess out later. Joe Clark and his brother Jay, totaling about four hundred and eighty pounds, arrived at Rob's apartment later that evening and took him for a boat ride. The way they acted when they put him in the cabin cruiser and headed up the bay made Rob think he would be recieving a pair of mafia style concrete overshoes, but the brothers, sharing a bottle of Jim Beam, had something else in mind. Rob was quickly and roughly stripped naked and was hogtied, with his hands and feet bound together behind his back. His nuts, which were swollen to the size of lemons from a kick that had been administered to improve his cooperation, were tightly bound to a chain with several wraps of strong wire. He was then placed on his back in the dinghy and set afloat. At high tide the chain was hooked to the underside of a railway bridge that crossed the bay. There was a full moon out, and the ebb of the tide would result in the water level being ten feet lower in about six hours. "Have a good evening, cocksucker!" were the brothers' parting words as they headed the boat back to town.
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