Nullo Brothers
GAY, NULLIFICATION
Hustler brothers victimize their older johns. Until the tables are turned.
` Mike and Mark were brothers and used to be hustlers. They advertised in the
classified ads of the local gay tabloid: `

"Handsome butch brothers. Both uncut tops. Expensive but worth it." The pager
number they listed was changed weekly.

They worked together to prey on older, wealthy guys who could afford two
hustlers at time and were turned on by being fucked by brothers simultaneously
in the mouth and ass. They tied up their johns, double-fucked them senseless,
then gagged them and shot Polaroids of their victim with various objects
shoved up his ass...a banana, a broomstick, whatever was handy. Sometimes one
brother would piss on the victim, the yellow stream glinting in the light of
the camera's flash. They took their time filling their car with anything of
value they could find in the house and left with a warning that they'd send
photos to the victim's relatives, neighbors and place of business if the
police were summoned.

It was a lucrative gig, until one of their victims confided to a friend. The
friend booked the brothers for an evening appointment. The brothers were
practically drooling as a effeminate old queen dressed in a silk caftan and
dripping with gold jewelry met them at the massive front door of his Georgian
mansion. This would be their best score yet, they thought, eyeing each other
knowingly. "Hi boys! Please do come in and we'll all get acquainted over a
cosmopolitan," the older man lisped as he waved them inside with limply
fluttering hands. He sashayed across the foyer, leading the brothers into a
walnut paneled library. "Please, sit wherever you like." The brothers settled
into a deep, down-filled damask sofa as their mark moved a tray with three
glasses and cocktail shaker from a credenza to the cocktail table. One glass
was half full. "I know it's rude, boys, but I started without you." He poured
two more drinks for the brothers and raised his own glass in a toast. "Here's
to new beginnings. Bottoms up!" The brothers smirked at each other and all
three men downed their drinks in single gulps. "Woo! I've had my limit," the
older man said as he fanned his face with both hands, "but we shouldn't let
this go to waste." More drinks were poured for the boys. As the brothers
sipped their drinks, the older man ranted on about how the room was decorated.
As he babbled on, the boys began to feel drowsy. Eyelids became heavy. Picture
lights over the oil paintings seemed to glow strangely in diffused patterns.
The chattering of the older man segued into a muffled hum. Then, darkness.

Mark came to first. He was on his back, his knees elevated. The light in his
face was blinding and he tried to turn away. He couldn't move his arms or
legs. As he struggled to get free, he saw Mike beside him, strapped to another
table, still unconscious, his feet in stirrups. A deep, gruff voice shattered
the silence. "Remember me, boy?" Mark rolled his head to see his host step
into the light, now dressed in full leather gear. "I'm your next intended
victim. The rich old queen. Remember? Well, now I'm your new daddy. The tables
have turned, boy. And you boys are strapped to 'em. You may remember my best
friend Raymond, too." Another figure in leather stepped out of the shadows.
"You boys fucked him, humiliated him and robbed him blind. And I bet he wasn't
the only one. So, like I said before, 'Here's to new beginnings.' Things are
gonna change. I mean, REALLY change!" Both older men roared with laughter.

"There's just one more friend I want you to meet. C'mon over here, doc." A
tall man in full surgical scrubs, cap, mask and rubber gloves stepped in from
the shadows, holding a large hypodermic needle. He grabbed Mark's genitals
roughly and began jabbing the needle repeatedly around Mark's groin. Mark
shrieked, begging him to stop. "Sorry, boy. There's no stopping doc once he's
got his mind made up. In a couple of minutes, the anesthetic will kick in. But
doc hates to waste any time, dontcha, doc?." The doctor laughed under his mask
as he brandished a gleaming scalpel. The doctor grabbed Mark's scrotum and
began to brutally slice it free. Mark went wild, yelping like a coyote caught
in the jaws of a steel trap. The doctor tossed the bloody sack onto Mark's
chest. "You bagged a big one, doc," the leather daddy said as Raymond hunched
over in a guffaw. Mark felt his balls being pulled hard from his body,
followed by two sharp bolts of pain and sizzling sounds. The stench of burning
flesh flooded the room. "Laser. Fast and no bleeding," the master explained to
his friend. The doctor tossed the bloody balls onto Mark's chest. "Two
points!" the master yelled, as his friend doubled over in laughter again. "And
now for the main event." The doctor grabbed Mark's penis in one hand,
stretched it away from Mark's groin and thrust a catheter roughly into his
urethra. Strangely, it didn't hurt much. The anesthetic was taking effect.
With all his strength, the doctor pulled his catheterized penis up and away
from Mark's body again, then began to slice around the base. Mark watched with
wide eyes, frozen in horror, as the doctor slowly slid his big uncut dick up
and off the catheter. The doctor peeled the foreskin back off the glans and
tossed Mark's dick onto his severed balls. "That's a first," the master
chortled. "Uncut and cut at the same time!" The master, Raymond and the doctor
all roared. As Mark's eyes stared into the eye of his dick just inches away,
he passed out.

Mark and Mike spent the next three weeks strapped into twin hospital beds,
blindfolded and fed intravenously. Morphine drips kept them heavily sedated.
They could feel their sponge baths and the changing of their bandages, but
little else. The brothers could talk to each other, but they were so heavily
drugged that the conversations were slurred and seemingly pointless.

As they came out of their haze, the brothers' blindfolds were removed. They
were each handcuffed, but otherwise free to move. Mark rolled over to talk to
his brother. "You all right, man?" Mike turned and smiled. He had no teeth.
Mark watched as Mike's eyes moved down Mark's body, fixing on Mark's groin.
Mike's jaw dropped and his eyes went wild. Mike lurched up in bed and grabbed
at his own crotch with handcuffs jangling. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "OH, GOD!"
Mark grabbed at his own crotch. There was nothing.

Mike and Mark are kept very busy these days by their master and his friends.
They are repeatedly fucked raw. From both ends, of course. Mark still resists
sometimes. He often wears the red stripes of a fresh caning on his ass to
prove it.

The master's favorite sport is simultaneously and violently "pinky fucking"
them in their relocated urethras. Unfortunately, this has made both brothers
permanently incontinent and means the boys and the basement floor need to be
hosed down frequently. The houseboy hates it and takes it out on the boys by
shoving the threaded brass end of the hose up their asses to give them icy
cold enemas.

Another unfortunate consequence of the "pinky fucking" is frequent infections
of the brothers' urethras and bladders. It's costing the master a fortune in
antibiotics.

But what the hell. It's still cheaper than getting ripped off by a couple of
pricey hustlers.  

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