This is Matt, your narrator. You should know that Matthew’s Recruitment is a completely farcical work of fiction and should be taken seriously nowhere, not at any turn. I began writing with no idea of story concept, or where it would lead. I wasn’t certain if the story concerned a boy, or girl; it only became apparent once I inserted a 20” long dildo up his/her behind, that a gender requirement clarified. Even then, I wasn’t entirely sure. I might write a female version, anyway.

Homophobes will hate this story. Those readers with a sense and taste for the absurd may enjoy it. No one scoffs at the premise of a 16-year-old losing a 24” long dildo up his behind more than I. (The longest actual dildo I could find online was 19”, by the same manufacturer. I took poetic license, making the shaft 24” for the story.) While I hope no organization actually exists, recruiting students like Matthew in this story, I kinda like the idea of it continuing, one generation to the next. You’ll understand that thought, once you read the story. No way should anything be considered truthful.

Another issue I should mention is that this story is non-linear. It shifts continually between the early morning hours of September 8, 2018, and the week of September 4-10, 2016, Matthew’s initial recruitment. The major portion in 2016 occurs the night of September 9. Yeah, I gave him my own name, something I’ve never done before.

No one says this is a good story. I don’t expect high scoring. Some readers won’t bother to read all the through, because of the skipping back and forth in time. I did make sure it was obvious when that happens, however. One sequence triggers, or is linked to the other by an object, or an action.

As always, I dedicate this story to my mentor, Angie E., our Tasty Little Pop Tart. Some will detect her influence here, especially in the balcony scene.

So, anyway, it was Saturday, September 8, 2018, at 1:46 am. Panicked, Matthew keened, “No!”, trying to get it out with his fingertips. For one long excruciating moment, he grasped the elusive end between his forefinger and middle finger, and then it was gone.

“Holy shit! Holy shit, no!” he gasped. He desperately plunged his fingers back inside, trying to relocate the end, but the dildo was gone. “Holy shit, no!” he repeated.

He was so lucky. We’re his parents home, he could no nothing but lie here in major panic. But he was alone this weekend, and that offered a chance at redemption.

“Please ... please, please, please!” he begged. Carefully pushing to his hands and knees—God, he felt the entire 24” length inside his rectum and colon!—he groaned, so grateful he’d chosen the thin model, over the thick. The 24” long Swirl Anal Snake was only 1” thick. His intestines could handle that, surely! Besides, the snake was amazingly flexible.

“Jesus, Matthew. You got a 2’ long cock up your ass.” Despite the potential horror, he laughed throatily.

It was 1:47 am. Matthew had fucked himself with the 6 other dildos, preparing and teasing himself for the Anal Snake. He correctly guessed that he was the only 11h grader at HCPS who had ever fucked himself with 6 assorted dildos, then put an Anal Snake up his ass. No boy in the state had ever done that, and only 9 others in the entire US.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he croaked.

Matthew was 16 years old. He’d first started, and then fallen in love with anal intercourse with dildos 6 days after his 14th birthday. He possessed a total of 12 now, but he typically used one at a time, 3 at the most. Tonight he’d promised the entire coterie time up his bottom, but he’d reneged. He had tomorrow night, and possibly Sunday ... they’d all get a chance with him.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” he croaked again.

This was uncomfortable, I mean really uncomfortable. He’d taken 3 huge enemas at midnight, getting himself thoroughly cleaned out. Then he’d gone to bed, letting Polo fuck him first. Polo was the smallest of the dildos he’d allowed up him tonight. He guessed correctly that Polo had enjoyed his rectum and anus the most: tight as possible, circumstances considered.

Matthew had no question or misgivings about his sexuality. He was queer without question. He’d never had a boy up his ass, or sucked a boy’s cock, but that would change soon enough. The older he got, the more opportunity to finally live his dream. He had sucked the cocks of numerous men, however; they provided the dildos, and other illegal rewards.

The first was Mr. Quinn, his math teacher in 9th grade. One afternoon after class, he’d kept Matthew after, ostensibly to discuss his grade. Matthew was terrible at Algebra.

“I understand you’re 14 now,” Mr. Quinn said. It was September 6, 2016.

Surprised, Matthew nodded eagerly and said, “2 days ago, Mr Quinn.” He liked Mr. Quinn. He never suspected his math teacher would be the first cock he ever sucked.

“I just wanted to confirm you really are 14. Your records say you are, but a wanted confirmation from you, first.”

Matthew wrinkled his brow. “I’m not in trouble, am I? Except for my grade,” he said sheepishly. “Because I really haven’t done anything, not that I know about.”

Mr. Quinn closed Matthew’s student folder and clasped his hands atop it. “You’re not in any trouble, Matthew. How would you like to see an A on your next test, and every one after that? I can’t do anything about your present grade; what’s done is done,” he apologized, shrugging. “But it will guarantee a huge grade increase by the end of the year.”

Matthew was anxious. He instinctively knew where the inquiry was headed. Shifting uncomfortably on the comfortable seat, he asked: “What do I do to get straight A’s like that?” He squirmed, when Mr. Quinn smiled enigmatically.

“Fuck,” he moaned, squirming now. He’d just felt a cramp, deep on his left side, just short of his belly button. Matthew knew his anatomy. Overall, his large intestine, including his rectum, ran approximately 44” long. His measured rectum length (via numerous dildos) was 5”. Based on published percentages, the length of his remaining segments were: sigmoid colon, 10” long, descending colon, 9” long, his transverse colon, the longest segment, 12” long, and the ascending colon, 7” long. If the dildo’s end remained just beyond fingertip depth at 3”-4” deep, then the head of the Anal Snake lay just where he felt the cramp.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You really hurt, motherfucker.”

He could thank Mr. Quinn for all this. Had the bastard not set this infernal enterprise in motion, with Matthew trading his adolescent mouth for dubious rewards, he’d be asleep right now, dreaming about cock. The real kind, not the kind currently up his ass. (Let’s clarify: boy-cock, what he long to suck.)

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He’d waited, certain what Mr. Quinn would say.

“I know you’re gay, Matthew.” Everyone knew he was gay. “I’m surprised, really, that you don’t get harassed more than you do.” He cocked his head questioningly. “You don’t get harassed, at all, do you Matthew?”

Matthew shook his head. He didn’t understand it either. Once it became common knowledge in school where his preference lay, he’d expected life to be unbearable. No one seemed to care, not even the jocks in gym class, where he should face the worst bullying. Everyone liked him, jocks included.

“You know why?”

He shook his head.

“It’s because you look like a girl. Not effeminate,” he corrected when Matthew stiffened. “But bona-fide, like a 14 year old girl. Without the boobs,” he clarified, waving his hand. “But just like a girl.”

“Like a naked girl,” he muttered on his hands and knees. “With a 2” cock up her ass.”

Matthew stood only 4”11” tall. His weight on the scale this morning read 90 lbs. He wondered what he weighed after 3 bag enemas, and an Anal Snake up his ass.

“I don’t look like a girl,” he’d lied petulantly. He was always taken for a girl with his long black hair, and slender profile. He looked embarrassingly like Millie Bobbie Brown. She didn’t have boobs, either. Not yet.

“You know who you look,” Mr. Quinn argued. “Take advantage of that, Matthew.”

“By what?” he blurted. “Sucking cock?”

Mr. Quinn shocked him by shrugging, Well, yes.

“I’d bite your cock off,” Matthew grumbled on his hands and knees. “If you put it in my mouth right now.”

Mr. Quinn had a big cock, the 2nd biggest of the 12 he’d sucked. One dildo, for each member of the steering committee members he’d sucked. His enrollment in the program was 2 years old, now, with 6 years to go.

“I have a group of associates,” Mr. Quinn advised that first afternoon. “All agreed that you are the perfect candidate for our program.”

“What program?” Matthew asked.

“A college tuition and employment assurance program. We recruit and groom certain qualified individuals over the age 14. We’d like to recruit you. The benefits are formidable.”

Matthew gulped. “To suck cock?”

Mr. Quinn chuckled. “We encourage our students to, well, not reciprocate, but to evince gratitude by established, time-tested methods. Oral gratitude became the accepted method years ago. We’d expect your willing observance.”

“To suck cock...” Matthew croaked in disbelief.

Mr. Quinn smiled. “We very much look forward to you joining the program, Matthew.”

“‘We very much look forward to you joining the program, Matthew,’ “ he mimicked on his hands and knees.

In all truth, he was delighted with his recruitment into the program, and proved his gratitude to Mr. Quinn, every chance he got. The committee had created and funded a college tuition trust fund in his name, depositing the agreed upon amount of $5,000 into the trust every month. The accrued amount through September 2018 was $120,000. He’d earned every penny with his wonderful mouth, and stood to earn $360,000 more through the end of his recruitment in 2024. He’d graduate with a degree that year, and begin graduate school. Sucking committee members post-2024 was a personal decision, and no longer expected. He’d remain in the program his entire life.

“Is it just boys?” he questioned.

“Not at all. We equally recruit boy and girl students into the program. We want you especially because—” He laughed depreciatively. “Let’s say your appearance intrigues certain of our members.”

“Does that include you?” he choked.

“Most certainly me! I advanced your name!”

“‘I advanced your name!’ “ he mimicked on his hands and knees. He couldn’t believe he had a 2’ long cock up his ass.

Recruitment occurred Friday night, September 9, 2016. His dad dropped Matthew off at Mr. Quinn’s for the weekend, believing he and other students would attend an advanced work-study group. He’d know nothing of his recruitment for years. Not so his mom, justifiably concerned that her son was selected. She knew of the program, having first-hand knowledge of the workings.

“Is it just me and you?” he asked.

“Me and you,” Quinn confirmed. “Scared?”

“Not at all,” Matthew lied. He dutifully handed over his useless backpack. He’d face no scholastic challenge that weekend.

“Can I ask a question?”

Quinn nodded, expecting a 1000 questions this weekend. He knew what the first question was from prior inductions.

“Do I do more than suck?”

“That’s strictly up to you,” Quinn said with a grin. “We only encourage our students to reciprocate orally in the program. Anal ... well, that presents issues. No one can tell when you perform oral, but any number of issues present when you take an erection up your rear end over an extended length of time.”

8 years, Matthew thought tensely.

“Do you like anal, Matthew?”

The recruit blushed furiously. “I don’t know. I’ve never done it before.”

Quinn said: “We don’t encourage our students to pursue anal sex privately, but we don’t actively discourage it, either. Odd as that sounds in light of my previous statement.” He nodded, pursing his lips. “Certain of our members, ah...” He looked a little embarrassed. “They enjoy watching our students engage in the practice, and offer additional incentives to those who do.”

Matthew blinked, confused. “They watch us have anal sex?”

“With other participants, of course, and yes, alone.”

“Alone,” Matthew repeated. “You mean with like... ?”

“Dildos. Though we prefer to use the term ‘phallus’. It’s understandably less objectionable.”

“Sure,” Matthew agreed. His face glowed 10 shades of red.

Shifting, he wiggled his bottom, and cocked his hips up and down. He was stupid to cut the end off the dildo and risk loosing it up his rear end. But the string felt so secure, and he wanted the arousal of a cock fully inside his effeminate backside. (He didn’t care how Mr. Quinn chose to regard him—he was a hopelessly effeminate little queer-boy.) And he was a queer with the longest ever tampon up his bottom. But the string broke, trying to pull it out.

Quinn guided him into the kitchen where he motioned Matthew to sit at the small round corner table. “I can offer you anything you want to drink tonight, and marijuana to steady your nerves. Despite what you say, I understand how frightened you are.”

“I’m terrified!” he choked, laughing. His entire body trembled and shook, sometimes violently. “You said...” He gulped loudly. “You said that we don’t offer anal sex, but you okay it with other members? And with ourselves, with—phallus’s?” He shivered. “That doesn’t make sense!”

Quinn handed him a Heineken. “Having it amongst yourselves is no different than anal sex between any two students; you risk exposure, and retribution by one or both sets of parents. If they ever find out. Anal sex is prevalent with high school students everywhere. It’s absurdly common.”

He popped the lid on his own beer and sat down.

“Sex with a phallus is less common, but not unheard of. And phallus’s can be secured by students ridiculously easily via the Internet. As unhappy parents world-wide can attest.” He laughed softly. “We guide you through any purchase, assuring responsibility and blame is affixed to the student.” He clinked the mouth of Matthew’s bottle with his own and said: “We’ve never encountered an accountability problem with any student to date.”

Matthew took a sip of his beer. “I get caught with one, it’s mine right?”

“Yours to explain, yes.”

Matthew squeezed his abdominal muscles. He could feel the entire length up his bottom, but not identify any particular part of his intestines the phallus occupied. That seemed a conflict in terms, but that’s how it felt. Arousingly uncomfortable and intimidating intimate. This was something no boy could do to him, ever, with his bare penis.

Matthew glanced between his legs. He possessed a surprisingly large erection for such a tiny boy: 6” long, the same thickness as the snake up his bottom. It also looked surprisingly effeminate for a cock: a delicate light pink, silky smooth and unnaturally unlined, not a suggestion of the ugly twisty veins typically seen on a boy’s penis. The delicately proportioned head lent the overall length a feminine vulnerability. It embarrassed Matthew greatly, as did his equally delicate testicles. His manhood seemed anything but. “You can’t embarrass me more,” he complained.

A boy shouldn’t suffer furious erections from a phallus up his behind, but Matthew always did. The bigger and more masculine the object, the more embarrassingly hard his erection grew. Nothing proved his effeminacy more than his reaction to being boned, he thought.

He also routinely humiliated himself sucking member’s cocks. The bigger and more masculine the member in his mouth, the harder he became. Every benefactor made note of his affliction, and all enjoyed his extreme discomfit. No matter that he sucked cock naked on his knees: he enjoyed do it.

He never expected to take off his clothes. Learning he’d suck Quinn naked and defenseless, exposing his bare penis, turned him pink as his effeminate cock. “Really?” he balked.

Quinn set down his empty Heineken. “It’s customary. All recruits suck members nude. It’s customary practice your entire active recruitment; of course, members have their own preference. Personally, I’m variable on the practice depending on how I feel, the particular circumstances, how much time we have, etc. I’m also amenable to my student’s wishes.”

“Do I have to swallow?” he blurted. Incredibly, the question had never come up.

Quinn went to the refrigerator for two more beers. Matthew had hardly touched his. He looked on the verge of throwing up.

“Are you a stranger to beer?” Quinn asked.

Matthew stared at his bottle, nodding. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Swallow your beer,” Quinn said.

Still gazing between his legs (still arousingly uncomfortable) Matthew wiggled his cock back and forth. He’d never sucked it, though he’d tried. Hard as he tried to get the head in his mouth, however, his body thwarted him every time. He simply lacked the lithe flexibility that most girls and some boys evinced.

Matthew obediently swallowed the Heineken and accepted the second bottle. He fidgeted, and squirmed. He had to go pee. The imaginary hemorrhoid he’d developed, itched maddeningly. He’d thought for certain that he’d have to do it anal with Mr. Quinn tonight. Another important detail he’d forgotten to ask beforehand.

“Will I get drunk?” he asked.

“You can drink as much as you like,” Quinn said. “You wouldn’t be the first boy to pass out on me, or spend half the night violently throwing up.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully. “You said I can smoke pot?”

Quinn chuckled. “You’re not a stranger to cannabis, as you are to alcohol.”

Matthew colored. “I’ve done it a few times.”

Quinn shook his head. “No more. A program student is above all else, studious and observant of the law. Students don’t drink, smoke pot, or do other illicit drugs outside the program.”

“Outside the program?” Matthew asked.

A joint magically appeared in Quinn’s hand, along with a Bic lighter. “Drink your beer, Matthew.”

Matthew waggled his penis again, then his bottom, and then his whole body. “How perverted can you get, wanting 2’ of cock up your ass?”

Experimenting, he sat back on his haunches. That triggered an answering wince, and a moan of discomfited arousal. It felt unlike anything he’d ever experienced before; like a queer version of constipation, more possibly, gas. What was he thinking, putting this thing up his ass?

Swatting his pesky effeminate hard-on, he gave it half a dozen strokes, and then effeminately dropped back onto his hands and knees. He needed a beer. The Heineken he’d brought into the bedroom before shishkabobbing himself was empty. He needed to get off this bed and see if movement coaxed the dildo into evacuation mode. He pushed experimentally with his poop-muscles, attempting to force it out the old-fashioned way, but that only made his discomfiture worse. God, how he’d embarrassed himself.

His first time on a dildo was in Mr. Quinn’s bedroom. The size of the phallus scared him—a 7-1/2” long shaft, 1-1/4” wide at the huge head and where the shaft met the thick base. Mr. Quinn had showed him photos of the phallus on his cell phone, earlier, in the kitchen.

“Super Ballsy Cock?” he croaked in embarrassment.

“Bought specially for you from Amazon-dot-com. Stupidly, I threw the packaging away; I should have let you open the package yourself. What do you think of it? Your very first phallus?”

“I think it’s big,” Matthew choked, frightened.

Laughing, Quinn lit the joint and passed it to Matthew to sample first. Matthew had smoked a number of times before, mostly with his friend Jason Michaels, but never weed so potent as this. He coughed out his lungful, drawing an amused chuckle from Mr. Quinn, who patted his back.

“Drink some more beer. It’ll help with the coughing.” Matthew continued to cough too badly to attempt drinking, or even speak. He rapped his knuckles on the kitchen table and waved in apology. Quinn laughed, and took a hit off the joint.

The dildo issue arose from Quinn’s earlier account of student responsibility concerning purchases and use. Matthew’d asked: “Is it mostly male students that request phallus’s, or do girl students get them too?”

Quinn downed a swig of beer. “Almost exclusively males. Boys who perform fellatio are normally gay, and boys are more typically inclined to engage in self-copulation. I took the liberty of purchasing your first phallus this week, by the way.”

“What?” Matthew blurted, instantly coloring.

“I look forward to your first experience with the shaft up your bottom tonight. Want to take a look?” Quinn picked up his cell phone.

“You bought me a dildo?”

Quinn snickered at his scandalized expression. “I foresaw—gleaned—that you were the type of young man that would enjoy a phallus up your bottom.”

You sure foresaw that right, Matthew thought sardonically. I got the grandaddy of all phallus’s up me tonight.

Skewing sideways to the edge of the mattress, Matthew stepped down with his right foot, careful against any sudden movement. The snake took his foot-extended position in stride, and he cautiously and painstakingly took his feet. He imagined an actual snake slithering deftly into his small intestines, and coiling up contentedly there. This made his treacherous erection even harder. “Effeminate traitorous bitch,” he muttered.

Standing felt okay. The discomfort grew no worse, at least. A boy with the equivalent of 4 classmates up his bottom at once. He imagined 4 cocks actually taking him at once, more rightly, 4 grouped dildos. His cock reacted accordingly, and he swatted at it irritability. “Will you stop that! You embarrass me enough, dammit.”

I should call Mr. Quinn, he thought. A bachelor, his former math teacher lived alone, and took calls anytime, day or night. Quinn had a burner for each of his personal students, of which Matthew remained the youngest. His fellow two students were both girls: Natalie, and Madison. Natalie was 17, and Madison a senior at school.

Members were allowed 3 personal students at one time. Members shared whomever they wanted, and normally did. A dozen had enjoyed Matthew’s adolescent mouth in the last two 2 years, and additional members would over the next 6. Matthew had no idea how many committee members there were, or how many he’d eventually suck. He only knew the members were exclusively male.