The Telemachus Story Archive

The Balboa Triangle
By Jotto
Email: Jotto

The Balboa Triangle

Modesty is an unknown concept to Brazilians who take innocent pride in displaying the beauty of their sun-hued bodies.  And it was this attitude that Tiago Vidal took with him to United States, an attitude that was quickly molested by a man with too much power. 

Tiago, an over developed eighteen-year-old, was discovered jogging in the buff on a nude beach just south of Sao Paulo, Brazil.  He loved to live and run in the nude as his unusually large penis and testicles made it difficult form him to wear clothing.  The divinely sculpted copper of the young man’s flesh (As well as the sway and bounce of his junk.) captured the fancy of a fashion designer who was scouting for new talent and quickly recruited the naked Brazilian runner.  After a month of lecherous tutoring, the designer had the young Brazilian stud sponsored by a prestigious modeling agency and whisked away to his estate in San Diego, California, where his young form would be preserved on film for all posterity, proving to the doubtful that such beauty exists.

Tiago’s move to San Diego was christened by his fashionable sugar daddy with the gift of a new running outfit.  A skimpy pair of luminescent neon-lime spandex running shorts with matching cap and shoes.  Tiago would have been comfortable in the nude except he realized his North American neighbors frowned on such behavior.  At the behest of his mentor, Tiago stripped down and slipped himself into the least bit of clothing that would permit him out in public.  The waistband of the undersized short-shorts swiftly hugged one leg at a time as it slid up his body until it was stopped by the obstructions of his bulbous buttocks and voluminous genitalia.  The young Brazilian stretched the fabric to its limits as he tugged at the shorts, forcing it over the rock-hard mounds of his ass.  Tiago winced as the waistband caught the back of his scrotum.  As he pulled the rim of his shorts forward, he gave a little jump, which sent his massive manhood flinging into the tight constraints behind the neon-lime layer of skin.  The nylon-lycra cradled his manhood with little left to the imagination, revealing the vast sweeping contours and folds of skin that formed his phallic legacy.  And now all of his manly glory was highlighted a very bright neon-lime.  As he gazed at his reflection, his thoughts were pure as he pondered how beautiful he looked.

Tiago’s fashionable provider lived in a palatial estate that overlooked Balboa Park, a favorite amongst gay men on the prowl.  And from his balcony the stately designer watched as his protégé scampered off through the park, a vision of copper-toned skin with a few dashes of neon-lime.  Little did Tiago know that he was headed straight into…The Balboa Triangle, an area where the virtue of many men has gone missing, and in some cases, the men as well.

Tiago’s course through the park left in his wake quickly turned heads and transformed the adjoining street into a river of brake lights.  The skimpy pair of shorts was put to the test of holding back his manhood.  The mound of sexual flesh seemed as if it were trying to breakout of its neon colored prison as it bounced too and froe with each oscillation of his muscular thighs.  Tiago liked the feel of the nylon-lycra material as it stretched and rubbed across his ample goods, the silk-like texture caressing his package as it heaved with the motion of his body.  But the sensation touched his libido as well, causing the slow transformation of his docile penis into a raging cock, and much to the chagrin of what little modesty he possessed.  Tiago quickened his pace in the hope that no one would notice the surge of blood to his groin, but the faster he ran, the more he stiffened up and the tighter his shorts became.  Trapped in his shorts and with nowhere to go, all twelve inches of his cock started to slither over to his right hip.  The ever-tightening fabric aided the plump throbbing head of his cock in emerging from its shroud of foreskin.  Precum oozed from the maw of the mighty phallus and through the expand weave of the shorts as if there were no fabric there at all, creating a miniature cascade of man-syrup down Tiago’s shorts and onto his leg.  The hot sun of this August morning also sent rivers of perspiration trickling down the rugged shores of his body, only to be sopped up by the overworked shorts.  The already sheer fabric became obscenely transparent.

Tiago placed his hands forward in a futile attempt to hide his massive arousal, but once he looked down he knew he was in trouble.  His shorts were so soaked with his fluids it looked as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all.  And to make maters worse, his monster cock had one defect some of us would find beneficial.  Priapism, a medical term given to prolonged erections, usually cased by some sort of trauma to the penis, and in Tiago’s case, it was a number of soccer balls aimed at his groin from jealous teammates.  Tiago’s ailment usually lasted four to five hours or three orgasms; whichever came first.  Tiago looked for a deep bush where he could have some private time and rub out a few loads, but the well-manicured park offered nothing in the way of adequate privacy.  He desperately scanned for an inconspicuous course, but the park was busy that day with a kite flying competition.  Avoiding families put him on a sidewalk between park benches and parked cars.  Tiago earned both cheers and jeers from those he tried to avoid.  He looked away as a patrol car passed him going the other way, but could still see it through the corner of his eye as its red and blue lights flashed to life.  Just as he swore to himself he would never wear this useless suit again, (In the daytime.) the shocking chirp of a police siren interrupted his thoughts.  It was the dreaded, Officer Lube.  His name was actually, Lobachevsky, but his less than ethical patrol activities earned him the pseudonym of “Lube”. 

Tiago sought the minimal shelter of a bus stop, hoping that the cop wasn’t focused on him, but to no avail, the patrol car pulled up right beside him.  The apprehensive Brazilian kept his back to the street trying to keep a low profile only to realize his shorts were in the face of an elderly woman sitting on the bus bench.  Tiago gives her a sheepish wave of hello.  Faced with his very visible pulsating manhood, the woman walks off in a cloud of disgust.  Tiago’s dread grows as he stares at the ground, trying to block out the sound of hard shoes grinding against the pavement, and getting closer.  Then, there’s a long moment of silence that seems to last forever, until he feels the tap of an unyielding nightstick on his shoulder.  The officer’s deep strict voice washes over him.

“What’s is your malfunction, boy?”

Tiago freezes up and remains silent as he wishes for the Officer to go away. Officer Lube’s voice resonates this time with deeper resound.

“Hey, boy!  I expect an answer, what is your problem?”

Tiago’s thick Portuguese accent trembles, “Problem?  I no have problem, sir.”

“Turn around and face me.”

Tiago remains still.  Officer Lube swings his nightstick at the boy’s ass and is impressed when his bludgeon is deflected off the young Brazilian’s rock hard buttocks.  Tiago quickly looks over his shoulder and sees the cop for the first time.  Lube is an intimidating figure of a man.  The cop is only a few inches taller but a whole lot bigger around, he had muscular arms almost as big as Tiago’s legs that forced the sleeves to roll up.  He had a chest that firmly pressed out his regulation shirt to skin-tight tolerances, and legs so massive that his pants fit him more like bicycle-shorts.  Tiago shuddered in awe of his presence.  The officer guided the firm immigrants body around with a few prods from his long thick black club.

“Let’s have a look at you.”

Lube’s barely visible eyes nearly pop as he gets an eyeful of the bulge that dominates the front of the young Brazilian’s shorts.

“You freak, you god dammed freak.  Do you think those shorts are really up to the job of concealing that?

When Lube pokes at Tiago’s pulsing and drooling meat with his club, the boy tries to brush the club away.

Tiago protests, “Hey!  What you do?  Stop that.”

Officer Lube handles his club with the skill that comes with many years of martial arts training.  In the blink of an eye, the nightstick becomes a blur as it swings up and around and lands across the boy’s cheek.  Surprised and stunned, Tiago staggers as he cradles his face in his hands.  The boy tastes his blood as it wells up in his mouth and then trickles out over his lips.  He is slow to learn when his Brazilian blood begins to boil and he unwisely tries for a second grab at Lube’s club.  But the club again becomes a blur as it dispenses swift discipline with a hard jab to his gut, a light-speed swing around to his kidney, followed by an unforgiving thrust up into his balls.  His mere eighteen years on this planet and his time spent frolicking nude on South American beaches did nothing to prepare him from the cop’s expertly performed assault.  Tiago fell to the ground already in a fetal position, clutching his vandalized nuts.  Lube’s skill with his stick is so advanced; it leaves behind not a single mark.  A crowd of men start to gather but do nothing, cause they know all to well the officer who’s dispensing his own brand of justice.  And unless they want the same, they know the best they can do is watch and wait to pick up the pieces when it’s all over.  And yes, some of them just found it hot to watch a muscle bound cop go to work on a young scantly clad copper-skinned buck.

Officer Lubes commands Tiago, “Stand up, boy!  Get on your feet now!”

Tiago begins to unfold himself, but too slowly for the officer’s liking.  Lube reaches down and grabs the boy by the neck, forcing him up and against the sun-heated metal support of the bus stop shelter.  Tiago struggles franticly as his lungs are denied their flow of air, grasping helplessly at the officers steely grip.  The boy’s body flails helplessly against the officer’s greater bulk and starts to weaken under his suffocating force.

Lube leans in on the Tiago’s neck, “What’s the matter, boy?  Don’t you like people noticing your junk?  Well, you shouldn’t advertise what you’re not going to sell.  Now let’s see if you can deliver what your shorts are selling.”

And with that, Lube starts to brutishly frisk Tiago’s bulge with his club as the muscular eighteen-year-old claws at the officer’s vice-like grip on his neck.  Then after a thorough probing, the officer inserts his nightstick through the top of Tiago’s shorts and forces it down harshly through his cock and balls.  Using his club like a crowbar, Lube wedges the blunt end into the stud’s crotch and pries the rim of his shorts down past his still engorged manhood.  With a whip of precum, Tiago’s cock and balls fling out and against the officer’s waist.

Lube, admiringly, “Well, even better than advertised.  There, isn’t that better, out where everyone can see it.”

As Lube bounces the mighty phallus on the end of his nightstick, he is too transfixed on Tiago’s large cock to notice that the boy’s arms have fallen to his side.  Tiago’s struggles have nearly subsided along with his consciousness. 

A voice in the crowd shouts out, “You choking him to death you pig!”

Lube shouts back, “Mind your own fucking business or your next!”

The perverted cop loosens his grip as he uses his stick to slap the boy back into this world.

Lube coaxes the boy, “Don’t you go out on me, boy!  Wake up, that’s it, come on, you can take it.  Now, breath deeply.  There you go, all better now.”

After a few coughs, Tiago is able to stand on his own again as he rubs his throat.  He is surprised to see his favorite toy swaying around out of his shorts.  Embarrassed, the boy tries to holster his fleshy gun but is stopped by the persistent Officer Lube with a quick hit to the boy’s knuckles from his club.

“What’s the matter with you boy, you like the rough stuff?”

“What?  Fuck you.”

As Lube rubs his stick against Tiago’s meat, “Well you cock is still as hard as my club.”

“I have…condition that, um…”

“You’re gay.”

“Beside that.  It stay hard until I cum few times.”

“Well then, I guess you better get to work.”


“Put your hands on your dick and start jacking-off.”

“Here, in park, with everybody seeing?  No, I think no.  I get in trouble?”

Lube plants his nightstick firmly between the folds of the Brazilians scrotum, pressing hard against his nuts.  Tiago grimaces as he remains at attention, he now realizes fending off the officer’s advances will just cause even more pain.

Lube explains, “You see, boy, I’m the law in this park.  And if I tell you to do something, you better do it.  Now start stroking your cock or I’ll see just how far I can shove the stick up your tight ass.”

Tiago started to whimper about the only two choices he had, public humiliation or anal-rape.  As a tear rolled down his face, he scanned the crowd for someone who would help him, but the crowd was too intimidated or just indifferent to his plight.  Lube presses his stick in even harder.

“Well, boy?”

Tiago makes his choice and reaches for his magnificent specimen of a cock.  His right hand timidly dances down the length of his cock and then gingerly rolls back the foreskin, revealing the ripened apple of his manhood.  A surge of precum drools out and repels down towards the ground.  Tiago’s hand cups the glistening strand of man-tea and spreads it over all twelve inches of his cock.  Cars honk as they pass by; parents shield the eyes of their children and the fascinated few circle in for a closer look.  The boy sniffs away at his tears as his hand begins to stroke his cock.  Lube’s eases off his club from Tiago’s groin, using it to trace out the contours of his sculpted body.

“You got two hands, boy.  Use them.”

Tiago’s left hand slides across his hip to his balls, and after fondling them for a while, his hand slowly climbs up his body, avoiding the officer’s club and then starts to play with his nipple.  Tiago cannot believe the humiliation he has to endure and shoots the cop a hateful glare.

Lube notices, “I don’t like the way you’re looking at me.  You better loose that attitude, boy.  Look to the sky and pray to God I don’t make it worse for you.”

Lube thrust his nightstick into the bottom of the boy’s jaw and forces his head back.  Tiago begins to huff and puff in anger, humbled and put on display like some sort of dumb slovenly beast.  The perverted cop gropes himself with his free hand as gobs of precum pour from Tiago’s meat.  The boy’s nimble fingers capture then slather the ample flow of clear fluid over the impressive length and girth of his cock.  Tiago more and more vigorously works his cock, rubbing and pounding, desperately trying to coax his manhood into surrendering its youthful elixir.  The eighteen-year-old assemblage of muscles tightens up as his eight-pack of abs heaves violently in and out.  His breathing becomes quick and challenged as his hand becomes a blur around his cock.  In spite of the pain and humiliation, Tiago’s loins purge the precious genetic material contained deep within the voluminous orbs between his legs.  Staring at the sky, Tiago can only feel the rush of semen through his strained shaft of meat and the beautiful pain of a constricting prostate gland and sphincter.  A fountain of hot white liquid seed gushes out with the force of a fire hose and sprays across the trunk of the police car.

Tiago screams out in his native tongue, “FODA!  FODA!  FODA TU DIABO PORCO!  TU DIABO PORCO!  FODA TU!  FODA TU!”  He catches his breath, “Foda tu.  Ah, foda, foda.”

As the spray of his seed subsides, Tiago looks at the officer through the corner of his eye.

“Tu diabo porco.”

Lube releases Tiago’s head from the end of his club.  The boy scrapes his cum drenched cock clean and flicks the manly residue into the gutter.

The officers glare is deadly cold, “You must think I’m some big stupid idiot.  Is that what you think of me?  This is southern California.”


“So I know porco means pig.  I’m not sure about the rest, but I bet it wasn’t very nice either.  So before I bust your ass for disrespecting an officer of the law, I think you better clean off your juices from the trunk of this city own vehicle.”

“Clean?  With what?”

“How about using that filthy tongue of yours?”


With ninja-like swiftness, Lube has his club wrapped around the back of Tiago’s neck and slams him facedown onto the hot black metal of the trunk.  Lube slides the boy’s face into the pools of cum that have already started to bake into the finish of the cop car under the August sun.  Tiago screams from being pressed against the burning hot surface of the car.  His flood of tears does little to insolate his skin from the heat.

“Come on, boy, like it up.  The sooner you get started, the sooner it’s over!”

“Diabo porco!”

“Shut-up with that shit and start licking!”

Unable to break free of the superior force holding him down, Tiago complies and starts lapping up his pools of cum.  Some of his seed has already dried up and is baked into the car’s finish.

Lube, impatiently, “Come on boy, what’s taking so long?”

Between sobs of dismay,” I can’t!  It to hard, to dry!”

“Do I have to think of everything?”

Lube releases the sobbing Tiago who caresses his tear and cum soaked face.  With hands of lightning speed, Lube grabs a hold of Tiago’s shorts and yanks at them violently.  Tiago screams and tries to prevent any further humiliation by trying to hold onto the rest of his shorts.  But on Officer Lube’s second try, the shorts shred apart at the seams leaving behind a naked Brazilian.  Lube throws the ruined apparel back at Tiago.

“Here, use this!”

Tiago, stripped of his humanity and what little clothing he wore, examines what’s left of his shorts, but there’s no hope of salvaging them.  Lube prods him forcefully with his nightstick.

“Come on, get to work.”

Tiago mutters in Portuguese as he leans over the trunk of the car and starts to wipe away the evidence of the crime that just took place.  The boy stops wiping when he feels the hard length of the club slide down the crack of his ass.  He tries to stand as Officer Lube attempts to pry open his virgin glory hole with the end of the nightstick, but Tiago is held down and bent over by the officers powerful grasp on his neck.

Tiago pleads, “Please Mr. Policeman, stop.  You hurt me.”

“Oh yeah, that’s real beautiful, and tight too.  I can’t even get my club all the way in there, no mater how hard I try.  Yeah, you like that don’t you, boy?  With your dick still all hard and throbbing, oh look, your cock is drooling on the spot you just cleaned.  Yeah, you like this, don’t you?”

“No I don’t. I told you I have condition…”

“Oh yeah, that’s right, you got two more loads to get rid of.  Well I think I can help you with that.”

With one hand firmly on the boy’s neck, Lube holsters his club and whips out his taser.  And before Tiago can see what’s going to happen, the taser is shoved up against his anus and Lube wastes no time in pressing the trigger.  The cruel device clicks and buzzes loudly as it delivers its disabling charge of electricity.  The young buck recoils backwards violently as he lets out a blood-curdling scream that draws the attention of almost everyone in the park.  Lube holds the weapon in place and fully active as Tiago’s mind is scrambled with electricity and pain.  The boy’s thighs are held against the car as the rest of his body thrashes about, his monster cock bouncing off the trunk of the cop car.  Convulsion after convulsion of the boy’s body quickly gives way to gigantic orgasm.  A copious geyser of sperm erupts from his cock and shoots out over the trunk of the officer’s car and splashes across the windshield of a passing motorist.  The surprised driver slams on his brakes causing the following driver to rear-end him.

Surprised by the sperm related accident, Lube stops his assault on the Brazilian buck and lets the unconscious youth fall into the gutter.  But the taser had damaged Tiago in a way that forces his ejaculation to continue unabated.  Globs of sperm keep on pouring out of the cataleptic lad’s cock.  Rivers of white meander across Tiago’s body and down into the gutter below.  The cop was awe-struck by the masculine beauty of the comatose semen-coated man-boy that lay at his feet.

“Oh, you’re a keeper.  I’m not done having fun with you yet, boy.  You and me are going to get to know each other real well, real well indeed”

Lube rolls him over, avoiding the whipping fountain of Tiago’s sperm and cuffs his limp hands behind his back.  Ignoring the protest of what few concerned onlookers there were, Lube tosses the sperm gushing eighteen-year-old into the backseat of his car, throws what’s left of the boy’s shorts into a nearby trashcan and hops into his car before the colliding motorists knew what was happening.  A screech of rubber and blaring sirens made for the quick getaway of Officer Lube and his virile prize. 

Except for some missing person posters, that was the last that San Diego ever saw of Tiago Vidal.  What happened to him from this point on is the subject of another story.  A story that will take the unfortunate Brazilian stud to the seediest, darkest and cruelest regions of the human heart, and teach him just how depraved the soul of man can be.